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forestwater87 · 3 years

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Chapter 15: Grand Gesture

Summary: GRAND GESTURE: He or she must be willing to put it all on the line now or risk losing the one thing they need to become whole-hearted. It’s life or death now.

CW: Smut in the last third of the chapter. Questionable quality.

Summer 2017

“Fuck!” Gwen felt her center of gravity shift as she leaned forward, overbalancing on the rickety chair she’d been using to reach the ceiling. It tipped perilously on two legs, then lost the fight with physics and sent her sprawling with a crash that shook the dozens of tiny papers taped around the room. She hit the ground with her hip and the side of her face, one of them making a disturbing crunch sound and both shooting bright white pain down her entire right side. “Shit!”

She was halfway to her feet, wondering if the crossed-eyes dizzy feeling was from lack of sleep, hitting her head, or marker fumes, when fingers closed around her upper arm and she was hauled upright. “Gwen! Goodness, are you okay?” David let go of her, his gaze roving around the room as he took a step back. “What happened in here?”

She looked around, taking a deep breath and noticing for the first time in hours the thick perfume of tacky glue and paint, as though David walking in had turned her senses back on. It was done, mostly. Well, no — it’d never really be done, but it was enough to prove her point.

She hoped.

While she was panicking, David had wandered over to the center of the room, ducking to avoid a string of origami animals dangling from the ceiling. “Is this for camp?”

“Yes — I mean, no, it’s from camp, and maybe we can reuse some of it but no, it’s . . . not really . . .” She’d planned this, during her mad crafting frenzy: how David would come home, wonder what she was doing, and she’d carefully tour him through everything — or maybe she’d let him get on with his morning routine while she added a few more things, made it just a bit closer to perfect.

But his presence had pulled her to a halt. She’d been like a shark all night, afraid to stop moving or she’d die, but now that he was here she felt drained, the giddy, terrified adrenaline that’d been keeping her going evaporating in an instant.

Though hey. At least she had a good reason to be tired, for once.

He frowned at her discarded supplies strewn carelessly around the room. “Are these from Art Camp?”

The question jolted her into action, and she stumbled forward jerkily, like the Tin Man without oil. “Yeah, but I already took it out of my paycheck, it’s fine. I’ll go shopping tomorrow for new stuff.” She wanted him to hear what she really meant, what she was trying to put together through exhausted babbling: that this was important, that it was worth sacrificing sleep and money for, that she loved him and she respected him and she wanted him to know that.

Finally, finally, he turned his attention to the walls. “Gwen, what is all this?”

“It’s you,” she blurted out, then winced and rested her forehead in her palm. “No, that’s not — it’s — some of the stuff you’ve taught me, look . . .” She took his hand, her nerves trembling at the brush of his fingers against her own, and pulled him toward the doorway. She’d made a messy semicircle around the room, right to left like a supermarket. Dropping his hand, she took a step back, steepling her fingers like she was praying and pressing them to her lips with another steadying breath.

She had one chance.

“Okay,” she began. “So . . .”

---

Gwen looked like she was on the verge of falling over, listing dangerously to the side as she led him across the room. There were feathers in her hair, and scraps of paper; she was speckled with color, marker and paint and even a smear of glitter glue on the tip of her nose, the pads of her fingers nearly black with a rainbow of ink that stained his hand as she held it. It was obvious she hadn’t slept, even more obvious that she desperately needed to.

But her eyes were bright even if the circles under them were dark, and she thrummed with an energy and animation David hadn’t seen all summer.

And he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt her, not when it finally felt like she’d returned to him.

“— song you taught me last year,” she said, and he felt a flash of guilt that he hadn’t been listening. She tapped the paper she’d stuck to the wall, the lyrics of his Camp Campbell song scrawled across it in uneven lines. “All the camp activities, remember? At least the most important ones.”

(It was really just the ones that fit best into the rhyme scheme, but he didn’t correct her as she moved on to a second piece of paper.)

“This is a list of all the facts about nature I’ve learned since I started here,” she continued, gesturing. This one was crammed so tightly with writing that he could barely read it, bullet points snaking in all directions and increasingly smaller handwriting as it moved down the page, until finally Gwen had started attaching sticky notes to the wall below and around the list. “I had to keep going back and adding things as I thought of them. I know I’m forgetting something, but I can’t —” She gestured around her head in a classic “scatterbrained” motion, chuckling weakly. “I’m kind of all over the place right now.”

Next: a bullseye, a pencil stuck point-first into the wall. “I couldn’t really shoot an arrow,” Gwen explained, “but remember that summer you taught me archery? I’m still pretty good at it — we went to a shooting range for Claire’s birthday last year and I was the only one who hit the target every time.”

Next: a messy drawing of a forest, a little stick figure kneeling next to a moss-covered rock. “That one time we got lost in the woods trying to find a good place for bug-catching, you got us out because you knew how to find north. You’d be pretty great in a zombie apocalypse.”

Next: a sheet of black construction paper poked through with holes, hastily taped to the back window so light from the lamp outside shone through in little pinpricks. He leaned closer and realized that they were in the rough shape of the constellations visible above Lake Lilac. “I didn't know much about stars and shit outside of, like, horoscope stuff — I mean, in the city you can’t even see them — but you always pointed out which constellations and planets were out during the summer and now I know them all too.”

And on, and on. Scale models of the crafts and activities they’d done at Camp Campbell, nature facts, and on one wall she’d tacked up a typewritten letter to the Director of Admissions at Queen’s University Belfast. Skimming it quickly, it looked to David like an application.

“I was trying to get into their Environmental Science program. I wrote about Sleepy Peak Peak and Lake Lilac,” she admitted, looking almost embarrassed. “I got in. And I mean, they’re not the best program out there, but they’re still in the top 300 worldwide so that’s pretty cool, I guess —”

“Belfast?” He leaned in closer, confirming that he’d read correctly. “Isn’t that in England?”

“Yeah.” She looked impressed, and he suppressed a weary smirk; yes, he did know a bit about the world outside of Camp Campbell. But she surprised him by adding, “I had to look that up, actually.” She shrugged. “Guess I should’ve just asked you, huh?

“Anyway, that was a couple years ago. I didn’t go, obviously,” she added, responding to his unspoken question. “International travel’s a bitch. I needed a scholarship, and my grades weren’t good enough. I think I only got in at all because of my letter.” She gestured at it, not quite meeting his eyes. “Which I never thanked you for. Or most of the stuff I’ve learned from you. I’ve been . . . kinda taking all that for granted. So, uh . . . thanks, David.”

He wanted to tell her she was welcome, that she didn’t need to thank him at all. That sharing these things with her had been the highlight of his life since they’d met, even if it hadn’t seemed like she cared about any of it. But there was a lump quivering dangerously in his throat and he didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded.

After a second she cleared her throat awkwardly and led him over to a row of stick figures hanging from the ceiling. “Some of these are from Yoga Camp,” she said, pointing at a few of the ones contorted into uncomfortable shapes, “but also all that other stuff you do. Like smile exercises —” and yes, one of the stick figures had a big pink smiley face, “— and breathing techniques and stuff. I use those sometimes when I’m having a panic attack. They really help, even if smile exercises still make me feel like a dumbass most of the time.”

The decorations started to get more abstract as they made their way around the room, simple crafts and trivia giving way to colorful scribbles and symbols, representing things he’d said to her about her relationship with her parents, her love life. “You have really good advice, you know that? You could be the next Dear Abby or something, seriously. I think that’s still running.”

(It was; he read it every morning with his pre-breakfast tea.)

“These get worse, sorry . . . I was getting tired.” Gwen jerked her chin up at a wobbly butterfly — or was it a bird? — dangling over their heads. “I use your advice about hummingbird-ing all the time. With writing, mostly, but sometimes at work or something, too.”

He gently reached up and touched the bird’s feet, watching it spin in a lazy circle. Technically the idea had been his mother’s, a way to avoid burnout by flitting from one project to another and adding just a little bit to each, instead of devoting all energy and resources to one thing and slogging through until it was done. The whole idea was part of his ethos of being a counselor — wasn’t Camp Campbell a place to get a little taste of everything, after all? He remembered explaining it to Gwen during her first week at camp, just over five years ago.

He wouldn’t have ever imagined that she’d actually remembered.

He didn’t think she remembered any of this.

But the evidence was all around him — on the walls, hanging from the ceiling, dozens of examples, mementos of the tiny moments that meant everything to him. Immortalized, remembered, in increasingly sloppy handwriting and doodles.

In the corner was a bright red card that looked familiar. David moved over to it and laughed in recognition: it was one he’d sent her after her first or second summer at Camp Campbell, when he’d seen on Facebook that she was looking for work. He tugged it off the wall, careful not to damage the cheap cardstock, and smiled down at the deer wearing a plaid hunting cap, which he’d made out of tissue paper and markers (he’d gotten much better since then, thanks to a few years of Decoupage Camps).

‘Good luck on your job HUNT! I know you’ll slay the interview!’

“I’ve kept that for years to show my friends,” Gwen said, making him jump; he hadn’t realized she’d come up behind him, but she was close enough to nearly rest her head against his. “I felt like it really captured the kind of guy you were.”

Her breath prickled the side of his neck, and he distracted himself by opening the card — ‘oh deer, is this joke going on too long? I feel like it’s overkill!’ — noticing how worn the crease was, like she’d opened and closed it hundreds of times. “Does it?”

He felt her shake her head without having to face her, stray wisps of hair that’d escaped her ponytail tickling his cheek. “Not even close.”

Unable to resist, he looked back at her over his shoulder, and she took his arm, turning him around the rest of the way. He thought she was going to kiss him — she was close enough that he could see a smeary glue thumbprint on her cheek and what looked like half a smiley-face sticker in her hair — but she just took the card from him, setting it carefully on the couch before taking hold of both his hands. Her expression was grave, shining faint with hope, and between the craft debris and her naked earnestness, she looked incredibly young and vulnerable.

“There’s more,” she said, gesturing with her chin toward the far wall, “and I’ll let — I want you to look at it, but . . . I just had to tell you, I’ve been taking you for granted and it’s not right. I’ve been pretending I still think of you as this —” Pulling one of her hands away, she picked up the card again, her fingers shaking so the deer’s toothpick antlers clacked together, “— sweet, silly, kinda childish David, who belongs with someone sweet, and silly, and kinda childish. And I tried to be that and . . . I mean I sucked at it,” she said, breaking off with a weak laugh, dropping her eyes to their joined hands. “And it . . . kind of broke me. But I didn’t even think to ask if that was what you wanted, because I thought I knew what you needed, and that was — so, really fucked.” She looked back up at him, her eyes dancing with purple fire, her grip on his hand tightening. “And I — I don’t, you know so much that I don’t — I could fill the entire cabin with stuff I’ve learned from you, this doesn’t even scratch the surface.”

She paused, like she was waiting for him to interject, but David felt like he’d been turned to stone, paralyzed and unblinking while his brain whirled.

“But none of it matters if it doesn’t show . . . if you don’t know —” Her voice cracked, and she dropped his other hand, pressing a fist to her mouth. “— h-how amazing you are, how much you matter to this camp and to me and . . . and I didn’t know people could actually be happy 'til I met you. I mean, I guess I knew technically, but not that it was a real thing people actually were. But you figured it out. You’ve known what you wanted since you were a kid and then you got it and I’ve never done anything without second-guessing myself a million times but you just did it, and it meant making so many decisions about your life that could’ve turned out wrong but they didn’t because they were the right ones for you. And you knew it. You always have.” She swiped at her eyes with the heels of her hands, crying in earnest now. “You’re a marvel, David. I should’ve said that every fucking day. And I know it’s probably too little, too late, but I’m sorry. For not telling you and — and for everything.

“And I . . .” She swallowed hard, taking a few heaving breaths before continuing, and he knew she was trying to hold onto her composure even as tears poured down her cheeks, “I don’t know what you wanna do. With — with us, I mean. But you’re right, I haven’t been a good girlfriend to you, and if you don’t want to . . . if you want me to leave right now or after the summer ends or if you just wanna be friends or whatever , that’s fine. A-and — if you do . . . y’know . . .” Her face crumpled, her shoulders curling in on themselves. “I love you so much,” she managed, her words harder to make out through damp, hiccuping breaths. “Whatever — whatever you want — I — I — I trust you.”

Understanding pierced his chest, a small pinhole that allowed light to pour, warm and white, into his heart.

“I trust you.”

David hadn’t realized how desperately he’d needed to hear those words until that moment.

He stepped forward, plucking the card from her hand and tossing it onto the floor (he could make her another one, dozens if she wanted, hundreds) and tilting her chin up so he could kiss her. Her cheeks were wet under his palms, her mouth salty and acidic with the taste of not-quite-morning breath, and each brush of his lips against hers was broken by her pulling back to drag in a sobbing gasp, her mouth moving clumsily like she was as close to fainting from exhaustion and emotion as she looked.

It was, without question, the best kiss of his life.

He broke away to press his forehead against hers, sliding his hands from her face to cup the back of her neck and closing his eyes. “I love you too, Gwen,” he murmured, his heart fluttering at the giddily-incredulous, teary laugh she gave in response. “And I think you need to go to bed.”

She leaned back, and the bleary confusion on her face was so precious he rose up on his toes to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Huh? But what about . . .”

“I’ve got some stuff to think about,” he said, then gestured at the crafts she hadn’t shown him yet, “and look at. And after that . . . we should talk. But it won’t be a very good talk if you fall asleep,” he added with a laugh as her eyes drifted closed.

She opened them halfway, just enough to glare at him, but the effect would’ve been more intimidating if she hadn’t been swaying slightly. “’m fine.” The adrenaline that’d been keeping her going was clearly wearing off fast, and David was a little worried she wouldn’t make it to bed, that he’d just find her unconscious on the floor of the hallway. “You didn’t sleep either,” she accused, pointing at him with a finger stained silvery with graphite.

Goodness, he loved her so much he couldn’t stand it. “I had a nap.” Not a long one, but he was used to not sleeping much. “Get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“It’s already the morning,” she complained, but like a sleepy robot she turned and shuffled back toward the front of the cabin. “I’m gonna brush my teeth and shower and stuff. So I look less like a sludge goblin.”

“You do that, Gwen.” He waited until the bathroom door had clicked shut before turning back to the mess she’d made of their living room. It was almost hard to tell the difference between what was art and what was trash left over, there was so much of both; it looked like an explosion had hit a crafts store.

Gwen wasn’t someone who put a lot of effort into things she didn’t care about. It was one of the most frustrating things about having her as a coworker, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love how unabashedly honest she was, how he could read her feelings just by looking at her work.

There was the soft sound of tape unsticking and one of the decorations sagged, a corner curling away from the wall and drooping down. He pushed it carefully back into place and fumbled for his phone, setting it to camera mode.

This was worth remembering.

---

Gwen was positive she’d never be able to fall asleep; how could she, when things were still so up in the air? But she wasn’t twenty anymore, and after the exhaustion and emotional turmoil of the last few hours — days, weeks; hell, if she was being honest it’d been years since she’d truly felt well-rested — and despite the anxiety buzzing inside her skull she was out in moments.

Soft fingers in her hair drew her back to earth, and when she opened her eyes David came into focus, crouching next to her bed so they were at eye level. He smiled as she blinked at him, warmth and sunshine he probably didn’t even know he was emitting. “Goooood morning, Gwen!” he chirped, his voice way too loud for how close they were, and she winced. “Sorry,” he added, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Habit.”

“It’s fine,” she said, because she’d missed his morning bellow so much more than she could ever miss having non-punctured eardrums. She sat up, clumsily swiping at her face to double-check for drool or errant eye gunk. “Morning.”

“How are you feeling?” He hopped onto the bed, making her and everything else on the mattress bounce. He was being so . . . normal, like all the drama last night had been a dream.

Fuck it. They had some hard, painful conversations coming; she could enjoy a little bit of normalcy while her brain booted back up. “Good,” she replied, yawning. “I mean, tired, but I’m always tired so —” Her blood chilled, and suddenly she was wide awake.

There went normal. All because she had to remind him of what an unloveable disaster she was.

But when she looked back up he didn’t seem annoyed. He leaned against the wall, stretching his legs out so they dangled off the edge of the bed. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” She scoffed before she could stop herself, and his gaze flicked up to hers, taking her breath away. (God, how she’d functioned for almost four years without feeling more than a flicker of attraction to this man was unfathomable.) “Really. I want to know what’s going on with you.” His hand landed on her knee, light as a bird but blazingly warm even through her blankets. “All I want is for you to let me in.”

A swell of emotion swept up from somewhere in her chest, causing her eyes to prick with tears for the thousandth time. She looked away and sniffed as discreetly as possible — which wasn’t very, she assumed, since he immediately reached over and handed her a tissue from the pack he kept stashed in his pockets. “I mean, if you want me to complain, I can do that,” she muttered, tamping down another flow of tears through willpower. “I can complain about fucking anything.”

David’s laugh made her turn back toward him, because it didn’t have a trace of sadness or pity or anything she’d expected. It was so purely, entirely delighted , more than even he could fake, and he was looking at her like she’d said something surprising and wonderful.

“You really like it,” she blurted out, unable to hide the awe in her voice. “That I’m like this. Whiny and —” she waved vaguely “— bitchy, and whatever.”

“I don’t.” He shook his head and her stomach plummeted. But as she took a breath to respond he shifted closer, gently cupping the back of her neck so he could tap his forehead against hers. “I love it, Gwen. I love everything about you.”

A laugh burbled out of her before she could stop it, and she pulled away to hide her face. “Oh my god. You bastard. You’re so cheesy.”

His fingers closed around her wrists, tugging her palms away from her face. “I love you,” he said, kissing the skin she’d covered with her hands — the tip of her nose, each cheek, her top and bottom lip, her eyebrows.

“I love you, too.” She could already tell that if he was going to keep saying that to her she’d spontaneously combust, because this was all too cute and romantic and lovely and she still didn’t fully understand how this was happening, why he didn’t hate her.

But she’d promised she wouldn’t question his decision, whatever it was. She owed him that much.

His smile faded slightly, a faint line appearing between his eyebrows. “What’re you thinking?”

“Nothing,” she lied automatically, and when that only made him sigh she added, “I said I was going to trust you,” hating the note of defensiveness in her voice, because of the two of them she didn’t have much grounds for righteous indignation.

“Then trust me with how you feel.” It should’ve sounded too much like a cliche, something she’d tease him for, but he was right and they both knew it.

She’d put him through hell by not telling him the truth, and they both knew that, too.

Gwen closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to relax. Things were — they seemed okay, didn’t they? Almost normal, but better, because all her ugliness was out there for him to see and he knew about it and he didn’t seem to mind. And wasn’t that something she’d never thought she’d ever actually find? “I don’t get it,” she admitted, her voice sounding small and stupid. “I keep feeling like . . . like I tricked you somehow. Like I didn’t explain well enough why you shouldn’t want me, because if you really got it you wouldn’t be here. Not because I think you’re stupid,” she added quickly, desperately, “because I don’t, really! But — but even smart people can be . . . I don’t know, manipulated?”

The confusion in her voice made her pause, sit back. Manipulated? That couldn’t be right, could it? She wasn’t trying to manipulate anyone, and she was pretty sure you couldn’t manipulate someone by accident.

Or maybe you could; she hadn’t always paid a ton of attention to her psych classes in college.

“I’m sorry,” she managed after a few deeply uncomfortable moments of silence. “I’m trying, I promise, but I understand if . . . you know. Whatever.” (She still hated saying it, especially now that it seemed like it might not happen. Breaking up with David was hard enough without having to say it.)

He put his arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his side and kissing her temple. “Thank you for telling me, Gwen.”

“You’re not mad?”

She felt him shake his head as she rested hers on his shoulder, scooting down to make up for their (lack of) height difference. “I wasn’t really mad when I came back this morning,” he said, “even before I saw everything you’d made. I had some time to cool down, and I . . . started thinking, I guess.”

Gwen wanted to look up at him, but she wanted to soak in his warmth more so she nuzzled into the curve of his neck, inhaling the smells of floral detergent and piney-woodsy cologne left over from the day before. “About what?” she asked, like there could possibly be more than one answer. Like maybe he’d been pondering the sociopolitics of Malaysia or something.

He let out a little huff of laughter, and she knew without looking that he’d glanced up at the ceiling in a slow blink (that he insisted was less rude than rolling his eyes outright, even though it was just as obvious). “You. Everything that’s happened this summer — and before it.” His shoulder shifted slightly under her cheek, a shrug aborted halfway through so she’d be comfortable. “Things started making more sense after everything we talked about tonight. Like the day we . . . well, when you told me about that gentleman you . . . almost took home.”

“He wasn’t a gentleman, he was a douchebag,” she interrupted, immediately feeling like an asshole. But David chuckled and squeezed her closer, like he enjoyed her company even when she was being annoying (which he did; somehow he actually did) and she let herself relax against his side, believe that maybe things were going to be okay after all.

“I’ve thought about the stuff you said a lot since that day. Mostly the parts that made me feel the worst.”

She flinched. “I’m so sorry —” she began, but he cut her off with a kiss to her forehead.

“I have trouble with . . . rejection,” he continued, sounding embarrassed. Like that minor character flaw even came close to the millions of ways she was fucked up. “I — I guess you could call it ‘abandonment issues’? But at first, and for a while, all I could hear were the ways you didn’t . . . seem to want me around anymore.”

“But I did —”

“I know.” Another soft kiss, and she wasn’t sure if it was to reassure her or himself. “I know that now. And I think, knowing that . . . it made what you said sound different.

“You were drunk — I know, you downplayed it, and it wouldn’t have excused . . . but your judgment was still impaired. And you didn’t kiss him. Thinking back, it didn’t even sound like you really wanted to. Did you?” She shook her head, not willing to look up at him because no matter how gently he tried to frame this she still felt like it was her fault. “And I just couldn’t stop thinking, how if this had happened a few years ago you would’ve told that story so much differently. If we were still just friends, maybe. You would’ve stormed into the cabin raging about how some jerk had ‘put his mitts all over you’ —”

Gwen couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing, pushing away from him and resting her head in her hands. “That can’t be how you think I talk!”

“It was an edited version,” he admitted, flushing. His smile was wide enough to illuminate the room, catching and refracting the dreary dawn light. “Please come back?”

She snuggled into his outstretched arms, her heart panging at the plaintive note in his voice. She wrapped herself around him, legs entangled with his and arms squeezing his waist; she’d missed him just as much. “Your impression of me is really bad,” she said with an uncontrollable giggle that made her feel like she was fourteen.

“I’ll work on it.” For a moment he just held her, soaking in the relief of being together and being okay. (At least, that's what she was doing.) “Why did it bother you so much?” he asked after a minute or so. “It doesn’t . . . well, it just doesn’t sound like you did anything wrong.”

“I guess — yeah, maybe not, technically anyway. But you’d just visited and saw how terrible my life is, and I was having an even harder time being a less-shitty version of myself . . .” He made a soft noise, almost pained, and pulled her closer. “So when this asshole showed up and was, like, exactly the type of guy I usually go for, it felt like . . . I don’t know. Like the universe was telling me we didn’t belong together. That sounds stupid. Never mind.” She pressed her face against his chest with an embarrassed groan. “Pretend I said something that doesn’t make me sound like I write horoscopes for a living.”

“I like horoscopes!” he replied, because of course he did. After a moment he added, “Thank you for telling me. It . . . helps confirm some things I was thinking earlier, when I left. Because what you said, and what you’ve been saying for a long time . . . I’ve been hearing it the way that’d hurt me the most, but I think you meant it to make me hate you.” He paused for a second, then added, “Do you think I’m right?”

Gwen shrugged, feeling more than a little like one of his campers receiving an aggressively pacifist talking-to. “Yeah. I don’t . . . like myself all that much.”

“I’ve noticed.” And David pressed another kiss to the top of her head, like he was rewarding her for being honest. Or like he just couldn’t help himself. “You haven’t treated me very well lately, Gwen. And I was — am very unhappy about that. But I don’t think it holds a candle to how you treat yourself.”

She wriggled away enough to sit up and look at him, frowning. “So you’re, what? Willing to come back to a shitty relationship because you feel sorrier for me than for you?” she demanded, even though it would’ve been smarter to just not say anything and enjoy his pity while she still had it.

But again, she said she’d be honest. And the true Gwen was kind of a bitch.

His smile turned sad, and he carefully tucked a flyaway hair behind her ear. “See, that’s what I mean. You never give yourself the benefit of the doubt.” When she frowned, not understanding, he took her hand and began playing with it, wiggling her fingers and twining them with his. “I understand better, now. How you’re feeling and what you’re thinking. And I’m not going to let you treat me like I’m a kid, or — or stupid, or whatever. I know you don’t really think that,” he added as she opened her mouth to argue. “There’s a whole cabin’s worth of proof in the living room that you don’t really think that. That’s why I wanna try again. Miscommunications, misunderstandings . . . those are fixable. And now that I know what’s been going through your head, I don’t think you’ve done anything I can’t forgive.”

Her eyes filled with tears — again, and she was going to die of dehydration if she didn’t get ahold of herself — but this time she couldn’t resent them too much, not when it felt like she was brimming over with hope that was eager to burst free. “What’re you saying, David?”

He shifted back, turning so he was sitting cross-legged facing her, and took both her hands in his. “I keep . . . trying to find a way to say it,” he admitted, looking down at their twined fingers and flushing pink, “because ‘do you want to be my girlfriend again?’ is maybe too middle-school, but ‘dating’ sounds too casual, and —”

Gwen pulled out of his grasp and closed the distance between them, straddling his lap and taking his chin in one hand. His face lifted toward her before his eyes did, darting from her chest to over her shoulder before finally meeting her gaze. She wound her free arm around his shoulders, sliding her fingers into the short, soft hair at the nape of his neck. With the hand cupping his jaw she gently swiped her thumb across his lower lip, slightly chapped but still warm and softer than it looked, each breath skating across her skin feather-light and making her skin prickle. “Yeah,” she said, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead to his, holding back a laugh — or maybe a sob, she wasn’t quite sure; the emotions roiling inside her were too much to separate between happy and sad. “Whatever you’re asking, yes, I want it.”

She felt his smile spread under her thumb before he brushed her hand away, tilting his head so he could kiss her. “Good,” he murmured with a breathless chuckle, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. “I mean, I was pretty sure you’d say that, but still — that’s a relief.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You idiot.” Her blood turned to ice, and she pulled away from him, stricken. For fuck’s sake, couldn’t she be anything but herself for five minutes? “I didn’t mean — !”

David smiled, far more fondly than she deserved. “I know, Gwen.”

Groaning, she buried her face in his shoulder. “I’m trying, really I am.”

“Don’t.” He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back until she was upright, looking down at him again. “Please don’t try so hard to be what you think I want. Just be you.”

“Right.” She forced her shoulders to relax, tilting her head back and rolling her neck until it cracked. “I’m . . . gonna have a hard time with that. ‘Just me’ is kind of the worst.”

“I know you think that,” he said, pressing his half-open mouth to the hollow of her collarbone and making her shiver. “And I’ll keep reminding you until you don’t think it anymore.”

She managed a weak chuckle, leaning into his lips as he moved up her neck. “Good luck with that.”

His answering laugh rolled over her skin, warm and teasing. “Haven’t you heard, Gwen? I like projects.”

Jesus. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she tugged him upright, taking a moment to appreciate his gasp that wasn’t just surprise. “I love you,” she said, loosening her grip and kissing his forehead, petting away the furrows her fingers left in his fluffy red hair.

His expression softened. “I love —” he began, and Gwen tightened her hold on his hair and pulled back, just so she could watch his eyes flutter shut and his breath catch, “— y-you too.”

Dragging her palm down the side of his neck, she settled her thumb on his throat, feeling his pulse flutter rapidly, and bent to kiss him again. She hadn’t necessarily meant to turn it into anything, just wanted to feel his lips against hers, but her fingers tightened involuntarily in his hair and he moaned, and it was a lit match dropped down her throat to a stomach full of gasoline, a whoosh of heat blazing to life in the pit of her belly. “David,” she breathed, not so much because she had anything to say but because she needed to say it, to roll the sound of his name around in her mouth, let it melt like chocolate on her tongue and infuse her whole body with sweetness.

“Gwen,” he said, and she thought he was doing the same thing, saying her name just because he could, but then his hands were on her shoulders and he was pushing her away, gentle but firm. “Gwen, wait, we should — talk about this —”

“Oh, shit, yeah. Okay. Sorry.” She sat back, her face warming. But as she settled her weight more firmly in his lap he jolted; and if she’d thought she was embarrassed it was nothing to the way his already-flushed cheeks flamed pink, spreading in blotches up to his hairline and the tips of his ears, down to disappear underneath his bandana. He stammered out an apology, avoiding her eyes even as his cock twitched, like bashfulness could disguise how hard he was against her. She quickly rose back up — the last thing she wanted was to make him feel ashamed, or pressured; everything between them was as tremulous and new as the first time — but realized almost instantly when David squeaked that this just shoved her chest in his face.

She hovered there for an awkward second, the two of them staring at each other in mortified horror. Then his whole expression wavered, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before quickly flattening into a thin line, and the break in his composure took hers out too. She snorted, and they both burst out laughing. “I’ll just sit over here,” she said through giggles, rolling off his lap and settling on the other side of the bed with her feet curled under her so they were no longer touching. He made a small sad sound like a squeeze toy deflating, and Gwen rolled her eyes and stretched out one leg until her foot brushed his knee. “Here, hold my foot if you’re that lonely. It’s practically holding hands.”

His eyes widened, hands closing around her ankle and setting it on his thigh with something like reverence. “Thank you,” he murmured, gently tracing the outline of her foot with his fingertips. “That was very sweet, you know.”

God, she was blushing, wasn’t she? She had to be. “Yeah,” she agreed, trying to ignore the ticklish feeling as he kept playing with her foot like it was a toy doll. “Felt weird, too. I kinda wanted to insult you or something, just to balance it out.”

He smiled, wiggling her big toe like he was playing that little piggies game she used to do with her nieces when they were babies. “That’s my Gwen.” And he sounded pleased, almost proud, like she’d done something wonderful.

But that was David; even though sometimes he was completely oblivious, sometimes he noticed and appreciated the tiniest, most inconsequential things. That’s my David, she thought, her heart swelling like it was going to burst. “You wanted to talk about something?” she reminded him, waggling her toes to get his attention.

“Oh! Right.” He gently took her foot and set it on the bed next to him, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to his chest. “Sorry, I was getting distracted, and that was the whole point of you moving over there.” (He said it with a pout, like she’d gone to Spain instead of just out of arms’ reach.)

“I thought the whole point of me moving over here was so you could cool down, tiger,” she teased. But when he didn’t respond except to flush darker, his gaze firmly on a fraying edge of the pillowcase in his arms, something weird and hilarious clicked in her head. “Oh my god, are you into feet?”

“No!” He lifted his head to give her a tragically betrayed expression. “Not a weird amount!”

She grinned, poking his thigh with her outstretched foot. “What’s a weird amount?” she asked.

He shrugged, not quite able to maintain the kicked-puppy look when a smile kept trying to break through. “I don’t know. Watching people in heels step on fruit. I don’t like that sort of thing, I’ll have you know,” he added defensively, and for a second Gwen was sure he’d stick his tongue out at her.

“Sure, but you’re into them enough to know those videos exist.”

“I think I’d like to go back to you being nice to me,” he muttered, and she felt a stab of panic before he gently patted her ankle and met her gaze with a slight smile. Like he knew what she was thinking.

So she shoved past her nervousness and said, “But I thought you wanted me to be myself. And as myself, I can’t believe you never told me you were a foot guy!”

“I’m a you guy. And . . . you know. All of you. You’re perfect.”

“Yeah, but the feet are a thing, huh? At least a little bit.” When he didn’t answer she laughed, shaking her head. “So do you, like, want a footjob or something?”

“I really don’t.”

“How have we been dating this long and I didn’t know about this? What other freaky sex things are you hiding?”

“Nothing!” he said, hugging the pillow tighter. After a moment he looked away and added, “I didn’t want you to think I was weird.”

“David.” She leaned forward, waiting for him to look at her and see in her expression just how ridiculous that was. “You can’t get weirder than I am. You know that.” When the color in his face receded just a little bit, and his eyes flicked back toward her hopefully, she sighed and attempted to dredge up one of the strangest kinks in her vast library. “I’d totally fuck Drogon.”

He frowned thoughtfully. “From Game of Thrones? So would I- Iiiiiii mean, s-so would most people.”

“No, not Khal Drogo, Drogon. The dragon. Not like a humanized version, either — just full lizard.”

“Oh.” He smiled a little, almost a smirk, and Gwen felt distinctly, lovingly judged. “That does make me feel better. Thank you.”

“No problem. And tomorrow I’m gonna go into town and get a pedicure, just for you.” She wiggled her toes at him, grinning. “I’m thinking something slutty, like hot pink.”

“Gwen!” He shoved her foot away, laughing. “I was trying to have a serious conversation before you started talking about — about slutty toes and dragons!”

She cracked up too, falling over onto her side and nearly toppling off the bed. “Slutty toes,” she repeated breathlessly, and it took a few minutes to recover; every time they tried to make eye contact they burst out laughing again.

“Okay, okay.” Gwen finally sat back up, trying in vain to smooth her hair out of its mass of tangled bedhead. “I’m sorry, you were trying to say something serious. What’s up?”

“Right.” He took a deep breath, fingers knotting in her blankets until his knuckles were white. “It’s just . . . it was starting to seem like we were going to — um, you know. Be intimate.”

She resisted the urge to tease him for his word choice. “I was open to it, yeah.”

“M-me too! That’s why . . . well. Okay.” He took a deep breath, dragging his hands down his face, and Gwen noticed for the first time how tired he looked.

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything,” she said, shifting closer so she could put her hand on his shoulder. “You know that, right?”

He nodded, patting her hand before brushing it away so she didn’t feel rejected, and once again she felt a rush of love so intense it almost brought tears to her eyes. He could be so simply, effortlessly kind, without even thinking about it. “I do. At least, I think I do. I- I mean, I know I do, but it’s hard to . . .” He waved his hand around his head like his thoughts were scattering birds.

“The night before we . . . well. Ended things.” He flinched at his own words, and she felt the same pain flicker over the surface of her heart.

It’s okay, she reminded herself, wishing she could sweep him up in her arms and block out all the bad memories she’d put there. It still hurts, but we’re going to be okay.

Like he’d been thinking the same thing, David stretched out his hand to find hers, squeezing her fingers. “I said I didn’t want to,” he continued in a rush, “you know. Be together like that. And you . . . seemed to get mad — at me. And then the next day you broke up with me.” He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath that had tears behind it, and she tightened her grip on his hand. “It’s okay,” he said, opening his eyes and giving her a slightly-watery smile. “I’m okay. But I just need to know . . .”

“God, no,” she jumped in, taking up the thread of his question as it trailed off into nothingness. “David, no, it had nothing to do with — I freaked out, but I was already — I mean, I was gonna fall apart over anything, it didn’t have to be that. You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.” She couldn’t stand it anymore, so she pulled his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles because she wanted to respect his need for space but she had to touch him or she was going to die.

He swallowed, watching their joined hands for a moment before looking away. “You — that really hurt me, Gwen. I just needed to tell you that.”

All the anger he’d thrown at her in the past several hours, all the pain and frustration, and it was those small, matter-of-fact words that slashed her heart in two. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

She hated apologizing — it always felt weak, or dangerous, or something. Like it was an opening for someone to hate her even more, like she was handing them a weapon to hold over her head for the rest of her life. (It was why she hated receiving them, too; she could be spiteful and vindictive as anyone, but it was uncomfortable watching someone flay themselves in front of her.)

But with David . . . it didn’t feel like she was giving him leverage when she told him she was sorry. She wasn’t scared he’d hold onto it and throw it back in her face someday. She wasn’t resentful of him, and she wasn’t worried about how he’d react.

She wasn’t anything but truly, genuinely sorry.

And he didn’t brush it aside, act like she had no reason to apologize the way she’d half-expected. Either she hadn’t been giving him enough credit, or he’d grown up while she wasn’t paying attention. Maybe a little of both. But whatever the cause, he just stroked her cheek with the backs of his knuckles and nodded, a ghost of his smile returning for a second. “It’s okay,” he said, looking at her like she was — god, like he loved her. “Hearing it helps.”

She wasn’t sure if he needed more than that, but she wasn’t going to let a single doubt linger in his mind. “Seriously, David, you can — I won’t ever be mad at you for saying no, ever. For any reason, or no reason or . . . whatever. It’s okay. It’ll always be okay.”

“I — um, I had a reason.” He spoke fast, his eyes wide like he’d surprised himself. Still, he pressed his lips together into a flat line and met her gaze, clearly nervous but just as clearly not intending to end the conversation until they’d said everything they needed to. He was so brave. “I should’ve mentioned it at the time, but I guess I was scared.”

Gwen snorted, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, I can relate to that.”

He rewarded her with a small, soft smile before continuing, “The thing is, everything had just been so gosh-darned strange between us, and it felt like you were avoiding me all the time — except when we were together like that.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. “It sounds silly, but I couldn’t help but worry that maybe that was . . . all you were interested in me for.”

Her stomach sank. “And then when you said no, and I freaked . . .”

David nodded, his throat moving as he swallowed again. “Yeah,” he murmured, looking away. “It — it sure felt like you only wanted me for that one thing, all of a sudden, and when you couldn’t get it . . .”

“I dumped you,” she finished, covering her mouth in horror. “Oh, David.”

“I was a little nervous to tell you to stop.” He pulled his hands from hers so he could fidget, twisting his long fingers together. “Earlier — just now. A minute ago. So we could talk. I — I know it wasn’t fair, but I couldn’t stop thinking you might get mad at me again.”

“I wasn’t mad,” she replied, her hands shaking with how badly she wanted to hug him. (And god, what a change from their normal paradigm, that she was the one who had to hold herself back from a hug.) “I mean, I was, but never at you. I was mad at me, for screwing things up. I — you’re right, I was avoiding you, or avoiding talking to you, I guess. Because I didn’t know how to talk to you, how to act so you wouldn’t find out that I’m . . .” Her throat closed, thick and gummy with tears, and she took a deep breath and swallowed them back. “Rotten,” she finished, which was a stupid, melodramatic word but it felt right; it described the way she still felt despite everything, squishy and overripe and putrid. “It was getting harder to hide, once we were together all the time. And when we were fucking —” She couldn’t tiptoe around the words like David, not when she could just say it and watch him flush red. Even her rotted heart skipped a beat whenever he smiled. “It felt like I didn’t have to try so hard. I couldn’t be amazing, but I could make you feel amazing. And if I could do that . . .” She sniffed, looking away and wiping her face clean. “I thought I was letting you know how much you mean to me,” she admitted, the realization coming right on the heels of the words. “I mean, obviously I wasn’t — add that to the list of things I suck at — but when you didn’t want to have sex, it . . . I took it really hard.”

Her face was turned away, so his hand on her shoulder made her jump. “It felt like I was rejecting the only thing you had to offer,” he guessed, his voice soft and sad but no longer on the verge of tears. “Gwen . . .”

“It’s fine,” she said, shaking her head like she could rattle her self-pity out of her head. “That was just me being stupid, I know that. More importantly — seriously.” She looked back at him, at his beautiful open face, at the way he was watching her like she could possibly have something to say that mattered. “It’s never been about sex with you, David,” she said. Felt the encroaching tears yet again and decided to ignore them. If they came, they came; they weren’t going to stop her, because it was the most essential thing in the world that he knew, that he believed her. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the sex is really good —” He chuckled, blushing exactly the way she’d hoped he would, and it gave her a little glowing spark of strength, “— but it doesn’t even come close to being what I love most about you. None of that stuff —” She gestured toward her bedroom door, and the mess of crafts cluttering their common room. “— comes close. It’s — everything, a billion other things I don’t know how to explain or describe or show you but I love you, so much, more than I’ve ever loved anyone and it scares me, and — I’m rambling. Sorry.” She shrank back, feeling like an idiot again. “I just wanted you to know that. It . . . we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, ever, and I’ll never be mad at you, or disappointed, or anything like that.”

“Thank you, Gwen.” He was quiet for a minute, and she felt the tension ratcheting up in her shoulders with each long, spiraling second. Part of her wanted to snap at him to just say something, finish the damn thought before he gave her a heart attack, but that was her anxiety and regret talking, and she never wanted to take her own issues out on him ever again.

(She probably would, considering what a mess she was. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to do it on purpose.)

“You’re right, though.” David’s voice was a surprise, as was the soft laugh accompanying his words. He was sitting with his head tilted back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling like he could see through it to the fading stars and brightening sky. His gaze dropped to meet hers, and he immediately looked down and away, biting his lip to try and hide a smile. “We are pretty darn great together.”

A massive weight dropped from Gwen’s chest, rolling away like a stone. “Yeah,” she agreed. Then, to test the waters: “I taught you well.”

It worked; he turned back toward her, his shyness replaced with half-serious indignation. “I like to think some of it was natural talent!”

“Ehh,” she teased, holding her hand out flat and seesawing it back and forth in a “so-so” motion. “Pretty sure enthusiasm was doing most of the heavy lifting in the beginning there.”

He crossed his arms over his chest with a disbelieving scoff. “Well, I never!”

She pressed her lips together to keep from giggling. What a dork. “Y’know, I should say we were insanely good. But I dunno, for all I know you’ve totally lost it.” Shaking her head mournfully, she quickly glanced over to make sure he wasn’t actually offended.

His mouth dropped open, his eyes growing wide before narrowing. “I haven’t lost anything!” he snapped, and — oh, the playful irritation in his voice made her stomach twist. Not in the awful sick way she’d been tied up in knots earlier, but with a flush of heat that took her breath away.

Managing a smirk, she laid back on her elbows, a warm glow of satisfaction blooming in her chest as his gaze dropped to her stomach, to the narrow strip of skin where her camisole had ridden up. She waited until he dragged his eyes back up to her, dark and intense like the ocean in a storm, then grinned at him.

“Wanna bet?”

His face lit up — or, not quite. Because his smile was bright and warm as sunshine, but underneath the tenderness was a sharp competitive edge that he almost never turned on her. It was almost intimidating, but the shiver it sent down her spine had nothing to do with fear. “Always,” he replied.

Before she could respond he’d pushed himself to his knees and grabbed her just above her calves; a quick tug forward and Gwen was pulled flat on her back, dragged down the bed until her body was sprawled out beneath him. He let go of her, bracing his hands on either side of her head and bending down to capture her mouth in a kiss.

She curled one hand around the back of his neck and pulled him closer, bending her knees so he was caged between her legs and arching her back to bring as much of her skin against his as possible. He was warm, almost uncomfortably so — her furnace, her own personal sun, and she wanted nothing more than to melt into him. When he abandoned her mouth in favor of trailing long, suckling kisses down her neck she pressed her lips together, biting hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from making a sound.

“You could’ve —” A gasp, too sudden for her to swallow it back, and she felt David’s satisfied smirk against the base of her throat as he bit down again. “— given me a concussion, you asshole.”

He hummed in assent, his lips skating up to her ear and his tongue lapping at the sensitive spot just behind it. “I know,” he said mildly, “but I didn’t.”

He gently took her earlobe between his teeth, and she couldn’t help the strangled noise that was somewhere between a moan and a sigh. Grabbing his hair again, she dragged his mouth back for another kiss, enjoying the shudder that rolled down his spine and made him tremble everywhere his body was touching hers. For a few dizzying minutes she held him there, barely allowing either of them to draw breath. His mouth was blood-hot, warmer than even her fevered skin, and she didn’t know exactly where she wanted it because she wanted it everywhere — against hers, his tongue lapping at the roof of her mouth and making her shiver; around one of her nipples, his teeth catching on the pebbled skin; sucking bruises into her inner thighs, closing around her clit, dipping inside her cunt, her asshole, along the sensitive strip of skin between the two. She wanted him to kiss her places that weren’t even close to erotic but she knew would burst into flame if he so much as brushed his lips over them: the bone jutting out from her ankle, the ticklish spot inside her elbow, wherever the fuck he wanted to press the gorgeous wet heat of his mouth she wanted to let him, because from the very first kiss he’d been good, better than he’d had any right to be but time and experience had worked their magic and now his mouth could ruin her; without even trying he could reduce her to twitching, shuddering goo.

“Take this off,” she gasped, not sure if she meant her clothes or his because she was wriggling out from under him and trying to remove both at the same time, her fingers clumsy and shaking with how badly she needed to touch him without any fabric in the way. She struggled to her knees, practically yanking her camisole off and throwing it across the room before hooking her fingers in his belt loops and dragging him close enough for her to undo the buckle. “Come on —”

“So I won?” He laughed breathlessly, untucking his shirt and pulling it over his head in one fluid motion, smugness making him unfairly graceful like he was trying to show off.

“Sure, whatever,” she muttered, because who cared about some bet when he was kneeling half-naked in front of her? They’d had silly, jokey sex but that was not this, not when he was so beautiful she was having trouble looking directly at him, hair mussed and lips damp and swollen and pink blooming in blotches under the light constellations of freckles across his skin. He looked debauched, flushed and obscene even with half his clothes still on, and there wasn’t room in her brain for humor when all she could feel was clawing shaking need. She dropped onto all fours, leaning down to trace the hard outline of his cock with her tongue, and even through his shorts he was burning warm. He sucked in a sharp breath, his pulse spiking under her mouth, and Gwen couldn’t resist closing her lips around the shape of his erection, breathing in the salty-ammonia smell of precome and feeling her mouth water. “David,” she began, but there was no end to that sentence so she lifted her head slightly, bit the delicate ridge of his hipbone where it peeked out from the waist of his shorts, caught him as his hips stuttered forward. She kept him steady, one hand splayed across his lower back, as she rose to her knees without lifting her mouth from his skin: over the barely-there softness of his stomach (no werewolf six-pack here, despite his lean strength), tongue swirling among the faint red hair below his belly button, following the curve of his ribs, just barely brushing one nipple — he made a small, strung-out noise in the back of his throat, almost despairing as she moved on up to his neck — until she found his lips again, dragging him into a bruising, breathless kiss.

When she pulled away David’s smile was gone, drawn out of his mouth and leaving him panting. “Okay,” he murmured, soft and almost reverent, but before she could figure out what specifically was okay he hauled her forward like she weighed nothing, capturing her lips for a second before trailing down her throat, pausing at a sensitive place above her pulse point and biting down hard, sucking the skin between his teeth.

Pain bloomed under his mouth, rippling out into shockwaves of cold-hot pleasure, and when he bit her again she couldn’t hold back a moan. “You’re gonna — leave a mark,” she gasped, gently shoving his head away and running her fingers over the damp skin. It was already tender, and judging by David’s expression, contrite and amused and darkly heated, it was going to be a hell of a hickey. “I can’t hide this!”

“I’m sorry!” he tried, but it wasn’t close to convincing when he couldn’t hide his grin. His eyes drifted down to the mark again and he licked his lips, expression growing dazed for a moment before he snapped back up to look at her face. “I can make you a bandana, if you want. Just until it fades.”

“Fucker.” Gwen laughed, not so much because it was funny but because it was him, and she loved him more than she could possibly stand. Tired of the overheated, confining clothes she was still wearing, she shimmied out of them, tossing her pajama shorts and half-soaked underwear without bothering to see where they landed. “Come here,” she said, pressing her legs together and shivering at the wet slide of her inner thighs and labia, a thousand nerve endings sparking to glistening life. “You can make it up to me.”

She swore she could almost see his mouth water, his gaze dropping between her legs as he took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am,” he said — and they’d never tried that before, but judging by the way his cock twitched and his eyes jumped sheepishly to hers, it was something he’d thought about a lot. Filing the information away for later, she held out her hand and pulled him closer when he took it, resting her forehead against his. It took just the slightest shift in the angle of her head to kiss him again so she did it without thinking, her hand sliding between their bodies to curl loosely around the outline of his erection.

He gasped shakily against her mouth, his hands fluttering up and down her waist like he couldn’t decide where to touch her. One of them dropped to her ass, a light, almost hesitant touch, and she rewarded it with a soft groan; he made a weak noise in the back of his throat and pulled her closer, kneading her ass before slipping lower, between her legs. The heel of his hand brushed teasingly against her clit as he pressed two fingers into her, and she mimicked his pace, gliding her palm down the length of his clothed cock and relishing the way his fingers twitched against her inner walls.

He fingered her like that, slow and steady, for — she didn’t know how long. Lost track of the strokes that sent warmly buzzing tendrils up her spine, lost count of the breaths gasped raggedly between their lips, of the kisses that melted into one another until she wasn’t entirely sure where she was, she was hyper aware of the heartbeat pounding in her clit and every too-gentle drag of his hand but numb to literally everything else that wasn’t right here, wasn’t David —

“Fuck,” she breathed, pressing her forehead against his shoulder with a shuddering sigh. She turned her head and lapped at his throat, sucking his skin into her mouth and biting down hard enough to make his fingers jolt inside her, pressing against her g-spot for one delicious moment. “God, I -- please, David, just make me come, please --”

Another shiver, another twitch of his fingers that took her breath away. “Okay,” he said, his voice strangled and hoarse. He pulled out of her and sat back on his heels. “Lay down, all right?”

Yes, yes, whatever he was thinking was 100% all right with her. She almost kneed him as she scrambled into position, but her embarrassed giggle evaporated as he lowered himself onto his elbows, scooching her up the bed like she weighed nothing and settling between her legs. Alarm cut through her arousal, her mind immediately trying to calculate the last time she’d showered, let alone shaved --

His eyes flicked up to hers, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I know,” he replied before she’d even opened her mouth. “I promise, I really want to.”

Oh, god. She covered her face to muffle a squeak, flopping onto her back and looking up at the ceiling. “I’m that predictable, huh?”

David hummed thoughtfully, the sound vibrating up the inside of her thigh. “Only with some things. Other times you surprise me quite a bit.”

“Yeah?” He kissed the top of her mound, his tongue dipping into the V formed by her lips and just brushing her clit — a teasing touch, his mouth moving away even as she lifted her hips instinctively. “I’m surprising?”

“You are,” he said, the camp-counselor cheer in his voice making what he was doing feel even more obscene. He traced the line of her cunt with his mouth before gently fingering her open. “The first time you did this, for example. That surprised me quite a bit!”

“This?” She knew exactly what he meant — her stomach still dipped and swooped at the memory of kneeling on the floor of his shower, the heady rush of confidence and vulnerability she’d felt looking up at him with his cock at her lips — but she tilted her head back with a sigh and breathed, “Pretty sure I’ve never eaten you out before. Not that I wouldn’t be into that, just saying.”

He gasped and spluttered, pulling back to wipe his mouth and staring at her with wide, shocked eyes, then coughed, tapping his chest with his other hand. “Excuse —?!”

When he lowered his head to cough again and take an unsteady breath, Gwen sat up on her elbows, not sure if she should be amused, worried, or mortified. “Oh my god, please tell me you did not just choke on cunt juice!”

David gave her a disgusted look, shaking his head and clearing his throat. “There had to be another way to word that,” he said, as primly as he could while still struggling to catch his breath. “But — um, you didn’t…w-was a joke, or…?”

“I meant it,” she admitted, “but I get it if you don’t want to, don’t feel pressured either way —”

“No — I want to.” He looked startled by his own words, and immediately dropped his gaze, smoothing his palms down her thighs like he could disguise how his fingers trembled. “Sometime. If — if you do.”

Gwen let the awkward silence linger for another moment, not quite sure how to move forward. “Good. That’s…something to put on the to-do list.”

“Y-yes. Okay.” He did meet her eyes then, brightening. “See, you did it again!”

She frowned. “Did what?”

“Surprised me.” He leaned over her body to tug her into a slow, sweet kiss. When she pulled back to breathe he cupped the back of her neck, holding her close and brushing his nose against hers. “You’re an adventure every day, Gwen,” he murmured.

“Yeah, I’m a real goddamn roller coaster,” she grumbled, shifting her hips upward in a blind search for his touch. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d fucking ride me already.”

David laughed softly against her mouth before turning his attention to her jaw, throat, collarbone — a damp, shivery brush of his tongue against her skin moving down her body. “Well goodness, Gwen, now I’m confused.” She both hated and loved the smug, teasing tone he got whenever her composure cracked. “I could make love to you,” he continued, nipping the skin just below her bellybutton and making her jump, “but I thought you wanted me to do this first.”

He closed his lips around her clit and sucked gently, catching her with an arm behind her back as she arched toward the maddening wet heat of his mouth. Lowering her hips back to the bed with infuriating tenderness, he paused, resting his cheek on her inner thigh and looking up the length of her body. When she met his eyes he smiled, pausing to press a chaste kiss to her leg before returning her gaze.

“What do you want, Gwen?” And he asked it untauntingly. Seriously. Like he wanted nothing more than for her to tell him what to do, and like he’d do it without question.

His sincerity was going to be the death of her, she decided with a groan, burying her hands in her hair and shielding her face from his view with her arms. “Fuck. I don’t know. Everything.”

When it came to David, she always wanted everything.

“That’s a real swell coincidence, then!” He traced the seam where her hip and leg met, then dipped down, dragging his fingertips through the wetness smearing her thighs before swiping them up to circle her clitoris. “Because ‘everything’ is exactly what I’d like to give you.”

She barely had time to absorb the statement before his mouth was on her again, sliding the hood back with his lips before swirling his tongue beneath it and around the exposed clit. It was almost too much, too sensitive, bordering on painful and if he stopped she might actually die; she knotted her fingers in the flimsy sheets to keep from pushing his face harder against her, vaguely aware that she was mumbling nonsensical pleas, an incoherent litany of “oh god yes please fuck don’t stop” —

He didn’t. Without lifting his mouth he braced one hand under her knee and pushed it toward her chest, bending her leg and using two fingers of his other hand to enter her. It took him a second but when he found her g-spot he pressed up hard, stroking with the same rapid pace of his flicking tongue. It was more pressure than she was used to, strangely achy but pleasurably so, and it was impossible not to writhe under his touch as the need to come coiled tighter, dragged her higher, kept her suspended on the brink for a frustrating, dizzying, electrifying moment that stretched like a rubber band…

Then it snapped — a dam breaking, a wave cresting and finally letting gravity take over — and she curled forward with a sob of relief, pleasure rippling through her limbs and turning her bones to liquid, trembling through the aftershocks.

The shift from overwhelmingly perfect to just plain overwhelming was a split second. “Nngh, stop, stop —” She pawed weakly at his head, just barely smacking the edge of his fringe with her fingertips, but he lifted his mouth from her with a look of concern. “You’re fine,” she added quickly, struggling to catch her breath and shivering from the buzz of overstimulation, “s’just too much.”

David nodded, relieved, and sat back, wiping his face with the back of his arm. “Wow,” he murmured, eyes wide and awed. “Wowzers. Gwen, have you ever done that before?”

She sat up, frowning. “Come like a train? Like every time we — whoa.”

The sheets between her legs were wet. Not damp, wet like she’d spilled a glass of water (and cooling rapidly, she realized with a grimace, shifting to avoid the blotchy patch). Presumably the same wetness dripping down David’s chin.

“Oh my god.” She groaned, hiding her face in her hands like if she couldn’t see it, it would disappear. Or feel it slicking her inner thighs. “And uh, not really,” she finally muttered, a belated answer to his question. “Once or twice, but you’ve really gotta work over the g-spot to make it happ --” She glanced up just in time to catch his expression, a flash of recognition mixed with pleased sheepishness. “Which you were.” David quickly looked away, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and flushing pink. “On purpose?”

“I -- I’d read about it, that’s all!” he said, meeting her gaze defensively. “I knew it was, well . . . a thing. That some wom- people can do. And I was -- I’ve seen -- I was curious!” Gwen tried to stifle a laugh and failed, turning it into a choking snort, and he blushed even darker. “I know I should’ve just asked, but I couldn’t figure out how to say . . .”

She waited for him to finish the sentence, but when it became clear he had no intention of doing so, she injected as much demented cheer into her voice as possible and chirped, “‘Golly gee, Gwen, could I try making you squirt sometime?’”

Her imitation of his voice was passable -- she’d spent enough years making fun of him to get good at it -- and though he turned his head away she was positive he rolled his eyes at her. “I don’t know if that counts as bad language or not.”

“Oh no. It’d be so shocking if I said one of the no-no words.”

He chuckled, trying and failing to disguise it as a sigh, and climbed out of bed, tugging the rest of his clothes off. (As he picked up his shirt and wiped his face clean, Gwen quickly bent forward and sniffed the damp spot on the mattress. A little like saline, mostly like nothing. Good to know.)

“So how often do you trawl the internet for sex tips?” she asked, grinning. “Or -- god, tell me you’re not checking out books from the library.”

“Of course not!” He looked horrified at the thought. “And . . . sometimes. More often, after we started dating. I . . .” He paused, looking like he was reconsidering the rest of that sentence, and joined her on the bed to lean back against the headboard. “The time you visited, when I -- used my mouth on you for the first time.” (And what was it about his delicate tiptoeing that made it sound so much more filthy than if he’d said it outright?) “I thought -- or, well, I hoped . . . anyway, I did a little reading. Online, obviously. Just in case.”

So that was how he’d been so goddamn good right off the fucking bat. Always prepared, her boy scout. “Well, I appreciate it,” she said, and sat up, throwing one leg over his lap and draping her arms around his shoulders. “Can I please fuck you now, Mr. Greenwood?”

He sucked in an unsteady breath, his cock twitching up against her; the tip of his head slipped between her outer folds, making them both gasp. “C-condom,” he breathed, his voice raspy and uneven, and she scrambled off his lap before she could give in to the voice in the back of her head insisting they didn’t need to stop and get anything, he was right there , if she’d angled her hips right he could’ve been inside her already --

Her fingers were shaking as she retrieved the foil packet and brought it over, letting him take it with relief. (There was no way she wouldn’t have ripped it, with the way her whole body was trembling like the room had dropped ten degrees.) She watched him roll the latex down his cock, unable to tear her eyes away from how beautifully flushed it was, precome beading at the tip and slicking the inside of the condom.

God, she needed him inside her. Immediately.

David caught her with a breathless laugh as she vaulted back up onto the bed, curling his fingers around her hips and holding her steady. “Careful,” he murmured, and she rolled her eyes, fumbling blindly between her legs to line him up. “Have I- hhha --” He cut off, squeezing his eyes shut with a sigh as the head of his cock pressed into her, “t- told you how beautiful you are?”

Gwen frowned. It was kind of hard to focus on the question when her body was fluttering and pulsing as it adjusted to the welcome intrusion. “A lot?” she guessed, sinking down the last few inches too fast and bottoming out with an electric shock of pain and pleasure. “Fuck.”

“No. Not like that.” He slid one arm between their bodies, parting her folds to see the way she stretched around him. “I -- think you’re so pretty,” he managed, gently tracing her inner labia with his fingertips. “I like your colors. And how we -- um, contrast.”

No one had ever told her that her cunt was pretty before. It was just the kind of stupid, romantic thing David would do. And he was right; his cock looked so pale against her, where she faded from shocking pink into a dark purplish-brown that lightened as it blended into her normal skin tone. There was something about it that reminded her of a sunset -- which was just the kind of stupid, romantic thing David made her think.

“You’re an idiot,” she said, pressing her forehead against his and raising up a few inches, “and I love you so much.”

“I — love you too.” Suddenly he froze, his eyes widening and his grip tightening around her waist, keeping her from moving.

“David? Everything okay?” God, he wasn’t having some kind of terrible flashback, was he? Maybe they shouldn’t be doing this.

His eyes flicked up to hers, and a wide, sunny smile spread across his face like spilled honey. “This is just like the first time.”

It took her a moment to understand what he was talking about, but then it hit her: this was like the night they’d first had sex, from the position to the location to the dizzying, giddy strangeness of it.

God, he was perfect.

“Sort of.” She pressed a hard, quick kiss to his lips before grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging his head to the side so she could reach his neck; he whimpered and twitched twice, each pulse against her inner walls taking her breath away. “Except I know you way better now.” She punctuated the statement by licking a wide stripe up the side of his throat, then sucked a mark right beside his Adam’s apple, where it’d be safely hidden by his bandana. “All your weak points.”

“I—” He swallowed, tilting his head obediently as she trailed a line of open-mouthed kisses up to his ear, “d-don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She just hummed; that wasn’t worth dignifying with a real response, and the vibrations against his damp skin made him shiver. Instead she toyed with him: tracing the shell of his ear with her tongue, nipping at his earlobe with just a hint of teeth, exploring the delicate area around his ear and neck she knew so well, had staked her claim to a hundred times before.

David’s breathing quickened, roughened, and she had to tighten her grip on his hair to keep him from squirming. Her hips weren’t moving but his were, minute jolts she was positive he couldn’t control. “Gwen,” he gasped, “please, I -- hhit's too much, I can’t --”

“Could you come like this?” she asked, fighting to keep her own voice level. She could feel his pulse pounding in his cock and in his throat, under her lips; her clit throbbed in response, a metronome perfectly attuned to him. “Without me even moving? Or just . . .” She squeezed her internal muscles, clenching around him in a quick staccato pattern, and lapped her tongue against his neck in time.

“Nnno. Or -- yes?” His fingers tightened around her hips, a helpless spasm. “I don’t know. It’d . . . be torture.”

His voice was so low, wrecked, and Gwen’s stomach went into a dizzying, delicious free-fall. “Good,” she said before she could stop herself, think it through and reject it as sounding weird and freaky. David successfully pulled back from her, his eyes wide and blown out with arousal, and he looked so beautiful she couldn’t stop herself from blurting out, “I want to torture you sometime. Nothing you’re not okay with -- and not now, but . . .”

“Yes,” he breathed, and the word was barely out of his mouth before his hand curled around the back of her neck and he was dragging her mouth to his, a kiss made of teeth and desperation with words gasped out against her lips: “yes, god, whatever you want Gwen please I love you --” His other hand slid to cup the curve of her thigh, urge her up onto her knees so he could fuck her properly, pull her back down to set a rhythm that bordered on frantic.

She couldn’t help but laugh, even as she braced her palms against the headboard for better leverage to ride him faster, harder. “Told you,” she teased, biting his lower lip hard enough to drag a breathy whine from him. “Weak.”

That made him moan, drawn-out and broken, and he slipped one hand between their bodies; curling it into a loose fist, he splayed his index and middle fingers just enough for her clit to glide between them, adding an extra jolt of friction every time she moved her hips. Gwen gasped, clutching at his back with one hand as her second orgasm coiled tighter at the base of her spine.

She bit his shoulder because she could, because she had to, because he’d like it and because it was that or scream loud enough to wake the entire camp. “Fuck, god, David --”

He shuddered and buried his face in her hair, his breath hot with a stream of pleasured mumbles beginning and ending in her name --

Gwen didn’t know which of them came first. It didn’t matter, really, because they dragged each other over the edge. His cock was almost painfully hard, unyielding as iron as her muscles tightened and fluttered around it, and the sudden snap upward of his hips as he came nearly knocked her breathless.

She was going to be sore tomorrow. Or . . . later today. She turned her head and mouthed at David’s neck, relishing the sweet-salt taste of his sweat, and let him hold her up as they caught their breath.

“I love you too,” she whispered belatedly. David huffed a weak laugh into her hair, stroking her back with a touch that was light and ticklish. “But we’re sleeping in your room tonight. I don’t wanna deal with the wet spot.”

Yeah, she was going to be sore, and exhausted, and facing a hell of a cleanup both in her bedroom and outside of it.

David groaned and gently pushed her upright, sliding out from under her and taking her hand, like she was a camper who needed to be ushered back to bed. “Phone,” she bleated, weakly reaching for it as they walked past, and he paused to pick it up for her, and in that second she loved him even more, more than she’d ever thought possible.

Worth it.

#campcamp #camp camp roosterteeth #gwenvid #cc gwen #cc david #this ending is too awkward to put in the main tags but fuck it #i spent weeks working on this okay #maybe even months #i am exhausted and cannot look at this anymore #hope y'all like your smut interspersed with pages upon pages of talking #because that's what you're getting #the only reason this isn't a total disaster is raenbows and don't anyone forget it #forestwriting

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whatareyousearchingfordean · 3 years

Text

Happiness Continues

Part 11: The Delivery

Summary: Jensen and Y/n welcome their newest addition to this world.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 7.2K+

Warnings: Language, angst, descriptions of labor and birth

Author’s Note: Baby Ackles is finally ready to make their first appearance. If you have been following this story since the beginning, you may want to grab a tissue, there just might be some tears (happy tears tho). Also, I will preface this chapter by saying I have never been pregnant nor given birth so please don’t @ me with any inaccuracies, I tried my dudes. Special thanks to my loves for the constant undeserved support and my devoted beta @emoryhemsworth xoxo Alex

Catch up with the series masterlist and then check out Alexandra’s Library for more by yours truly!

The winter sun had long ago dipped underneath the horizon, the night bringing a new level of quiet to the residential corner where the birthing center was located. Inside birthing suite two, the only soft light came from the LED strips that followed the length of the walls at the base and ceiling. Currently, they were tuned low and blue, the light mixing with the neutral decor in a way that made her feel like she was underwater.

Curled on her side in the queen-sized bed, Y/n watched out the window on the opposite wall. Through the sheer curtain, the center’s garden could be visualized. It expanded a few hundred yards until the treeline of the nearby forest began. In silence, she watched the water trickle from the stone fountain in the center. It had been turned off for the season, but the rain that had fallen earlier in the evening still clung to the piece, each drop falling in a slow rhythmic pattern.

Y/n found it more soothing than what the fountain had looked like last summer when they had first toured the place. She assumed if she was laboring in spring or summer, walking the trails in the garden would be something she found herself doing, even late in the evening as it was currently. But that was a dream she had let go of as the temperature dropped. All she had now was the counting of each drop in between contractions.

The instinct to hold her breath took over as the next contraction washed over her, the sharp inhale of breath alerting the dozing man next to her. Y/n closed her eyes and focused on taking deep breaths, trying to ground herself to the moment. Fingers pressed into her lower back, one on either side of her spine, applying counter-pressure to the contraction.

“Harder,” her word was weak, even in the quiet room. The pressure increased instantly, helping her to focus back on breathing through the contraction. It felt like a lifetime later when the pain began to subside before eventually tapering off. The sheets shuffled in the dark behind her before she felt an arm wrap around her abdomen.

“Where are you at?” Jensen’s voice broke into the room as he pulled her tight against his chest.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, her gaze back on the fountain outside. “Trying to be anywhere but here.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Birth our child?” she tried, unable to stop the smile from creeping up on her face. If there was one thing Y/n didn’t handle well, it was being in pain. She would put back up every wall that anyone had become successful in tearing down, choosing to stew in silence. It was a defense mechanism she had perfected long ago. Never let them see you sweat. Unfortunately, that also meant that she tended to get mean, keeping it all bottled up until she exploded like a shaken can of soda. She truly wished right then that she had a catheter in her back delivering the good meds to her lower body, but she had committed long ago to do this as naturally as possible, her comfort be damned.

“As soon as they figure out how to do that, I’ve got you, babe,” Jensen chuckled behind her, close enough for her to feel his breath on her neck. She nodded in unfortunate understanding, her hand coming to rest atop her husband’s where it lay on her belly.

“Actually, could you top off my water bottle?” Y/n spoke back up after a moment of content silence.

“Of course. Ice?” He questioned, already climbing from the bed to grab her bottle on the nightstand near her.

“Please,” she confirmed.

“Be back in a flash,” Jensen pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before leaving the room to get ice from the main kitchen in the birthing center. A sigh left her mouth as she pulled herself into a semi-sitting position on the bed and grabbed her phone from where it lay charging. There was a mix of messages in her notifications, all from friends and family with varying messages of encouragement. She appreciated the gesture but to be honest, what Y/n wanted more than anything was to not have all the attention on her. It was yet another symptom of being uncomfortable. Her solace lay in the simple fact that she was not expected to answer any of the messages she received, considering she was in labor and all. Forgetting why she even grabbed the device in the first place, Y/n noted the time and tossed it back on the nightstand.

It was officially after midnight. Well, technically it was almost twelve-thirty which meant it was Jensen’s birthday. Y/n had found it funny when he had called his mother earlier to let her know that the baby was coming, Jensen had made his stupid joke only to have his face fall when Donna had laughed a little too hard. Her husband was caught up thinking about his mother and teasing the older woman that it didn’t even cross his brain what Y/n going to labor meant for him. Now, as she found herself nearly seven centimeters dilated as the clock turned into the new day, it seemed their baby would share its birthday with their father.

Jensen came back then, breaking her out of her thoughts but unable to knock the warm smile from her face. He walked around to her side and perched on the edge of the bed, one leg tucked under him as he faced her. Y/n took a drink of the cool liquid, relishing in the calm it brought her.

“What is that smile about?” He had an equally bright smile of his own, unable to contain it as he watched his wife.

“Nothing just… happy birthday,” the pregnant woman shrugged in her seat, her eyes casting down to wear her hands now cradled her bump.

“Yeah, it is,” he agreed, his heart feeling so whole when he thought about it that it felt as though it might burst from his ribcage. There was so much love for the woman in front of him, he didn’t know what to do with it. It scared him sometimes. It didn’t matter what was happening at the moment, but he could look at her and he would forget for a second that the world existed outside them and all he knew was that she made everything okay. His heart would skip a beat so fast he barely noticed and the urge to cry became overwhelming. Only this time, he refused to fight it, allowing a few tears to well up in his eyes.

“What’s this about?” Y/n sat up, concern now etched into her features as she brought herself close enough to her husband that she could wipe away the single tear that had escaped down his cheek with her thumb. She had caught sight of it, of course, even in the low light of the room. In the few silent seconds that he sat there smiling, she felt warm under his stoic gaze, unsure of what was going on in that head of his. Jensen shook his head, his smile still not faltering.

“I love you,” he said simply.

“I love you, too,” Y/n agreed, her concern melting away and taking with it the crease in her brow. Her husband cradled her face in his hands, pulling her face up to press his lips to hers. He poured every emotion that was currently making him dizzy into that kiss, afraid that if he didn’t, she would never know. But she did know, and though Y/n didn’t need more than those three words, she couldn’t deny him the release he so evidently needed. The desperation seeped from his every pore as his lips brushed against hers, unwilling to part until the need for air overtook everything else.

A gentle knock on the door snapped his brain back down to Earth. Jensen released his hold on her face, watching as it took her a second longer to open her eyes once they parted. He cleared his throat before calling out.

“Come in.”

Their midwife, Melek, snuck into the room, not making a sound as she closed the door behind her. She turned the lights up just a touch, giving the couple a warning beforehand.

“Hey, I’m just back to check your progress,” she snatched a pair of gloves from their place in one of the drawers and came to the side of the bed Jensen was still perched on. He moved out of her way as Y/n scooted down the bed slightly. Melek asked Y/n how she was feeling as she went about her work. The midwife listened and nodded along to everything she explained.

“Well, we are getting very close. Based on how you’ve progressed so far, this baby could be here in the next couple of hours. You are going to start feeling the urge to push soon, might feel like you have to poop, don’t ignore that or any other changes you notice.” Melek stood from the bed and tossed her gloves before washing her hands. She made a note on the whiteboard in the room before coming back over to the couple.

“You are welcome to continue relaxing, whatever feels best. However, if you feel up to it, I would suggest taking a walk in the garden. I know it’s cold and late, but it will help to energize you before the big work starts.”

“Thank you. Is that safe?” Y/n was adjusting her nightgown back into place as she talked.

“Yes, if you choose to take a walk, I would go now. No longer than twenty minutes outside and I will be back in another hour,” Their midwife confirmed. The couple nodded in acknowledgment of her words, offering her more words of ‘thanks’ as she exited the suite.

“Well, what do you think, momma?” Jensen put his hands on his hips as he looked down at her.

“Couldn’t hurt,” Y/n shrugged. She offered him an innocent smile. “Help me put on my shoes?”

“Deal.”

****

A low groan emanated from her chest as she battled through her current contraction. Her hands were locked around Jensen’s neck as she rested her head on his shoulder. The actor was rocking her back and forth, once again applying counterpressure to her lower back.

“Oh god, I feel nauseous,” Y/n breathed out as the contraction subsided. She let up on the weight she had been putting on her husband.

“That’s normal though, right?”

“Yeah, I was just venting,” she let the air out of her lungs rush past her lips. “I don’t expect you to do anything about it.” Her words were clipped as they tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them. The laboring woman cringed as she felt her husband stiffen underneath her. The soda had popped. Her movements were hesitant as she raised her head to look at him, regret written across her face.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, you are allowed to do whatever you want to me today.” The smile that graced his lips was tight, but she suspected it was more from the exhaustion than anything. She could see the heaviness in his eyes.

“No, it’s not. Come on, yell at me. Tell me you don’t need that shit because you were just trying to be helpful,” she pleaded with him, the guilt heavy in her chest.

“You want me to pick a fight with you while you are in labor?” Amusement was heavy in his words.

“Yeah, please? I deserve it. You are being far too nice to me.”

“It’s not happening. Sorry, babe.” Y/n growled in frustration, causing her husband to throw his head back and laugh.

The sound of yet another knock had her releasing her grip on her husband as she called the midwife in. It was time for the hourly check of her labor progression, a task that Y/n had grown a distinct distaste for. As the hours came and went and it felt like nothing was happening, it all just felt pointless. At this point, she was begging this kid to come out.

Melek made quick work of the check, a smile on her face after when she pulled off her gloves. “Seems as though it’s time, momma. You are fully dilated. How are you feeling?”

“Uh,” Y/n shared a look with her husband as their midwife headed over to the tub on the opposite side of the room and started the water. She gave a quick synopsis of what had happened in the last hour before asking, “Are we pushing now?”

“We can start. Sounds like you’ve already had some urges to. Right now it’s about listening to your body and what it’s telling you. I’m going to grab the nurse while you get in the water.” Melek left the water running and the couple dumbstruck.

“Okay, I guess this is happening,” Y/n scoffed, allowing her husband to help her from the bed. He stripped down to his boxer briefs while she slipped off the gown she was wearing, leaving her as naked as the day she was born. Jensen helped her into the tub and down to sit between his legs. As the water reached its max level, he stopped the tap and urged her to sit back against his chest.

True to her word, Melek was back in no time with a nurse and everything else they would need. They flourished around the room, getting ready as yet another contraction hit. Y/n’s grip on her husband tightened, her mind focused on one thing now. Jensen was whispering in her ear, helping to guide her breaths. Y/n gave in to the urge to push, more than ready now to have this over with. The pattern was quick and repeated itself again, and then again, and again.

The time clicked away on the clock on the far wall, each passing minute mocking the laboring woman as it turned over the hour. If she had thought she was exhausted before, it was nothing compared to how she felt now. Sweat dripped from her forehead, small tendrils of hair that had fallen from the bun on top of her head stuck to her flushed skin. She dropped her head onto her husband’s shoulder, soft pants passing her lips as she tried to relax before the next contraction hit.

Only it didn’t take long, the pain returning before she even had time to think. The contraction had her doubling in on herself, concentrating on bearing down. Her scream originated low in her chest, the sound of it low as it echoed out in the room. Y/n knew that Melek was coaching her, but she couldn’t hear the words anymore, her body too far spent.

“I can’t,” As the contraction dissipated, she threw her head back and hid her face in the crook of Jensen’s neck.

“You can, Y/n. Your body was made to do this,” Melek encouraged, a hand on the poor woman’s shoulder. Y/n swatted it away as she let out another sob.

“No, I can’t. I’m too tired,” her shoulders shook as she let it all out. Jensen turned and placed a kiss on her temple.

“Honey, if anyone can do this it’s you,” he whispered in her ear. “I know you’re tired and that means you are ready to quit, but you can’t, not yet. Just think about holding our baby in your arms, you are so close.”

Another sob shook through her as she indicated her disagreement with his words. She wanted to believe him, she wanted to believe him so badly it hurt but Y/n had never felt so defeated in her life. This was finally it and she couldn’t do it.

“Look at me, Y/n.” He waited for her eyes to open and focus on him. “You can and you will. I’m right here, I’ve got you. You are gonna push this baby out and we are gonna love it so much all this will be a distant memory. Nothing else will matter but the life we created.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” she hiccuped out with a laugh. Jensen chuckled along with her, offering another kiss to her temple. They nodded at each other, silent words being passed between them just before the next contraction hit. This time she put all her energy behind it, refusing now to be defeated. It was far from easy, but only she could do it now.

She couldn’t be sure how many contractions later it happened, the only thing she was sure of was the instant relief that washed over her body. Her eyes snapped open as Melek pulled her gook covered baby from the warm water of the tub, holding up its long body so both her and Jensen could see.

“It’s a boy!” Melek announced, placing the infant against Y/n’s bare chest. It all happened in a second and Y/n was holding her son in her arms. Jensen was peppering her face with kisses and muttering soft praises, his arms wrapped around her and helping the nurse wipe the baby clean. More sobs racked her body as soft cries came from the tiny body in her arms. Everything felt like too much like her whole being was vibrating on some new frequency she didn’t yet understand. It was invigorating and terrifying at the same time.

“I told you!” Y/n turned to look at her husband, the sobs that had been shaking through her now intermixed with soft laughter.

“Yeah, you did, babe. I’ll promise to never question you again,” the smile on his face grew as soon as he realized what she was talking about. The giggles coming from his wife seemed to seep into him and soon he was laughing along with her.

Y/n feigned a scoff, chuckles still seeping past her lips and a beautiful smile on her lips. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Ackles.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

****

It took a while before anyone was able to pry her son from her arms and even then, she refused to give up to anyone besides Jensen. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust the nurse or midwife, she just felt that if she gave him up, the feeling in her chest would go with him. Only the soft voice of her husband was able to coax her out of the bubble she had wrapped herself into. Reluctantly, she handed the infant off to her husband who passed him on to be weighed and measured.

The nurse was then able to help her out of the tub and into the shower, washing away the remnants of her son’s birth from her body. In that short amount of time, she ached to hold her son again. Her mind couldn’t focus on anything besides him, and it pissed her off. She didn’t feel in control of herself, consumed by the maternal instincts now flooding her neurons.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Jensen was propped up against the headboard, his legs casually crossed at the ankle in front of him. Discarded still at the foot of the bed was his shirt he had peeled away before they had gotten into the tub, but he had slipped his Nike joggers back on his tall frame. His large hands dwarfed their son, who was only in a diaper, where Jensen held him against his chest. The couple shared a smile before she made her way over to him, climbing gingerly into the bed next to her husband and son. Y/n curled herself into his side as the nurse left them to be alone.

“Nine pounds and seven ounces, twenty-one inches long,” Jensen smirked down at the sleeping infant. Y/n choked out a breath, her jaw dropping open in the process.

“Jesus, I’m never gonna be the same,” she blew out a breath. The tired woman laid her head against her husband’s shoulder, her eyes never leaving her sleeping child. She could feel her husband shaking softly with laughter. Mostly, she was just as amused as him, but on the other hand, she wasn’t kidding.

As she settled into her spot, their son began to stir, his face scrunching into a frown. Jensen moved quickly, pulling the kid away and offering him to his mother.

“What, the first time he even indicates he might cry and you immediately hand him over to me?” Y/n leans away from her husband, a confused frown etched into her features.

“Uh, yeah, I don’t have the goods,” the Texan flicked his eyes down at her chest before looking back at her face. He had one eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face.

“Okay, how do you even know he’s hungry? Maybe he needs to be changed?”

“He’s fresh out of the womb and hasn’t eaten anything, you do the math,” Jensen held him out again. Y/n rolled her eyes for effect when the truth was she couldn’t wait to get her hands on that baby again.

“Well go get the midwife, I don’t know what I’m doing here,” Y/n tilted her head towards the door. She had one hand cradling the infant and her other was working to pull her gown away from her chest.

“Right,” he bounded from the bed, grabbing his shirt as he went and pulling it over his head. The door barely had time to shut behind him before he was returning, Melek in tow. The midwife was more than helpful, guiding Y/n and her baby through their first feeding. It took them a few tries before it seemed like they finally got the hang of it. Melek left them again to the peace of the early morning.

The sun had yet to breach the horizon but that didn’t stop the birds from putting on a show outside. Jensen had climbed back into bed with his family, situating himself as close as possible to his wife. It gave him the best vantage to watch the miracle they had created. He rested his hand on the baby’s head, rubbing his thumb across the infant’s hair.

Y/n didn’t even bother averting her gaze as her husband nestled into her side. She was far too transfixed on her son. Every emotion felt magnified a thousand times since she gave birth, to the point where she felt like she might burst. It was hard to sort through them, the exhaustion of her body not helping at all. Now, as she stared down at the precious life she and Jensen had created, the only thing she felt was calm. His eyes were closed as he fed, the soft gurgles and breaths he let out the only noise in the suite.

“He’s perfect,” she mumbled to no one in particular, she just felt it needed to be said.

“He really is,” Jensen agreed. “I had no doubt, which is why I got you this.” Y/n tore her eyes away then as Jensen procured a long velvet case from behind him. He offered the object to Y/n who took it with her free hand.

“What is this? It’s your birthday today, not mine,” she tried arguing.

“Just open it, you dork. Besides, you’ve already given me the best gift I could ever have,” Jensen urged her to open it. His eagerness washed off him as he smiled at her, his hand back on his son’s head.

Being careful to not jostle the child eating in her arms, Y/n used both hands to flip open the case. Laying against a dark cushion inside was a gold bracelet with a row of seven round stones in the center. She caught the card that was placed inside when it tried to fall away, reading the small paragraph.

‘Customised with seven beautifully crafted semi-precious stones amidst a string of shimmering beads. Each stone is traditionally associated with various characteristics that also typify those born in that particular month – The March birthstone is Aquamarine, which has a pale blue appearance and symbolizes honesty, loyalty, and happiness.’

The tears fell from her eyes as she read, threatening to turn into full-blown sobs. Y/n sniffed as her emotions continued to get the better of her, using the end of the blanket to wipe the wetness from her cheeks. Happiness. There wasn’t anything she could think of better to describe how she was feeling. It was indescribable happiness that had begun on that New Year’s Eve two years ago and continues through the life she now held in her arms. It was happiness she feared she would never get to experience, and yet, here she was.

“Jay, this is beautiful. But how-”

“I ordered one for February too, can’t be too careful,” he answered before she could ask, earning a giggle from his wife. “You really like it?”

“Honey, I love it. I can’t imagine a more perfect gift.”

“Here,” Jensen pushed away from the headboard and offered his hand to take the case from her. She handed it back to him, allowing him to take the delicate bracelet from its setting. He urged her to raise her arm, making quick work of clasping the piece of jewelry around her right wrist. “There, perfect.”

“Perfect,” she agreed.

****

The midwife cleared Y/n and the baby to go home just before noon that day. They had spent less than twenty-four hours in the birthing center, but as she dressed her son to go home she couldn’t help but feel like she was going to miss it. That stupid little room now held so much meaning to her, and she hated it. The exhaustion and hormones were making her stupidly sentimental.

As they turned into their driveway, Jensen was forced to pull their SUV into the yard since the entirety of their driveway was filled with cars. He hopped out of the driver’s seat to help Y/n from the car before grabbing the car seat with their son inside. Her husband allowed her to waddle along in front of him, a smirk on his lips when she looked over her shoulder before opening the gate to their home.

Across the stone courtyard, she could see their family all huddled in front of the expansive window that saw into their living room. Everyone waved excitedly as the new family made their way towards the house. Y/n took in the faces of her and Jensen’s parents, along with her brothers and their families. Jensen’s siblings were too far out to make it right now, but even still Y/n was surprised to see her brothers. Donna and Alan had come down as soon as they called to let them know Y/n was in labor, staying in their guestroom for the coming week to help the new parents adjust. She expected her parents too, even though they couldn’t stay longer than the night, rooming in Jared’s guesthouse and leaving in the morning. But yeah, her brothers were a surprise.

The family was greeted and the door, an array of excited faces welcoming them home. Someone had hung a ‘congratulations’ banner, with a matching ‘happy birthday’ one just below it. Everyone wrapped the new mother up in a tight embrace before passing her along to the next family member while the kids swarmed Jensen and the baby. It took quite some convincing from the parents to quiet down the little ones, all excited to meet their new cousin and forgetting that they needed to chill out as he was sleeping currently.

“Alright,” Jared’s voice broke above the commotion of multiple conversations. “As the godfather and the whole reason this child even exists, I call dibs on holding him first!” He looked to his sister, his brows high on his forehead as he waited for her answer.

“You all are going to get a turn, I don’t care who goes first. But stop saying you are the reason he exists, it’s weird… ” She waved him on before adding, “and don’t forget the sanitizer.”

Jensen lifted the car seat to the island as Jared bounced over to him. He literally was bouncing on the balls of his feet, his sister rolling her eyes as she followed behind him. The giant of a man moved delicately as he pulled the sleeping infant from the car seat. If she had thought her son looked small in her husband’s arms, it had nothing on how he looked compared to Jared. He took the newborn over to sit on the couch, all the cousin’s swarming him in no time.

“You need anything?” Jensen put his hand on her lower back to bring her attention from their family to him.

“A water?” She suggested as she looked over to him, knowing she would need it sooner rather than later. He nodded and turned to grab a water bottle for her. A soft ‘oh’ had her turning her head back towards her husband. Jensen stepped out of the way to show her their freezer full of Tupperware of different foods.

“We all made a few things for the freezer. I know Donna is staying with you for a little while, but once she is gone, you’ll thank me,” Y/n’s mother appeared next to her.

“Thanks, mom,” Once again she found herself fighting back the tears as she pulled her mother into a tight embrace. Sharon ran her hands up and down her daughter’s back as the younger woman refused to let go. Half of it was not wanting to let go, the other half was hiding her tears in the black sweater her mother wore. When she finally relented, Jensen was standing there with a tissue. He offered it to his wife who took it with a sheepish smile before he also hugged his mother-in-law.

The group in the kitchen returned to the living room where the rest of the family was, fussing over the baby. Jensen sat down in his chair near the fireplace that was angled to where the rest of the family was on or near the couch. He grabbed his wife’s wrist and pulled down along with him, situating her into his lap. The new mother fidgeted in her seat, struggling to get comfortable.

“Would you stop that?” Jensen’s voice was low in her ear as he squeezed her legs in a vain attempt to hold her still.

“I-,” She shifted again with a soft sigh before turning to whisper in his ear. “I’m very sore down there, and your legs are not the most comfortable right now.” His lips formed a thin line as he nodded. Before she could say anything else, he lifted and moved them both so she was situated in between him and the side of the chair, effectively taking the pressure off of her sensitive area.

“Better?”

“God yes,” she huffed before snuggling into his side. The couple watched content as their family traded their son around. The looks of amazement from the kids and the near tears from the adults filled her heart more than she imagined it could have ever been before. Just when she thought it was full, it somehow found room for more love and happiness.

“So, have you two decided on a name yet?” Sharon spoke up as he was passed to her. The older woman was gently bouncing on her feet, her husband peering over her shoulder.

The new parents shared a look, unsure which of them should answer the question to the information they had filled out in his birth certificate just before leaving for home. Everyone had been asking since they got the news he was officially here, though the couple didn’t have an answer as they struggled to come up with something. Jensen tilted his head to her, signaling that she should answer.

“Yes, after an agonizing two hours of staring at him and willing him to tell us what his name should be, we finally picked one,” Y/n explained, her husband chuckling next to her at the memory of her talking to him as he slept. “His name is Ezra Jay Ackles.”

There were murmured compliments and agreements that the name more than fit the little bundle of joy they had just welcomed into their family. Sharon passed Ezra on to his other grandmother, the woman giddy as she took over baby holding duty. Ezra had woken up by now, his dark eyes searching and unsure of the commotion around him, but he had yet to fuss.

“Did you go with Jay because he looks just like Jensen?” she questioned, not taking her eyes off the infant in her arms.

“Ugh don’t remind me,” Y/n huffed, her face scrunched up at her mother-in-law’s words.

“Hey, I thought you liked the way I looked,” Jensen pouted next to her, but she could see the twinkle in his eye.

“That’s not the point. It would be just my luck that I carried him for nine months, was in labor for over eighteen hours while also needing to feed him every two hours, for him to look just like his dad. Where’s the justice in that?” Y/n frowned as her family laughed at her confession.

“Welcome to my world,” Gen piped up. “All of them, little clones of their dad.” The Padalecki women all nodded in agreement to that sentiment, much to the annoyance of their husbands.

“Hey, the Padalecki genes are strong, we can’t help it,” Jared protested, making Jensen throw his head back in laughter.

“If that’s true then I guess the Ackles genes are even stronger,” the new father countered, earning a shove from his wife.

“Alright you two, put the rulers away,” her joke got the rest of the room cackling at the boys’ expense. That satisfied the woman more than she would ever admit.

Not long after the reveal of their baby’s name, the family began to pack things up and head out. It had been a busy and tiring twenty-four hours for the new little family, and their loved ones headed out to give them some peace. Once everyone was gone, Alan offered to go to the store and grab something to whip up for dinner, leaving just Donna with the new parents.

“Y/n, honey, why don’t you go lay down. I know you haven’t really slept since yesterday,” Donna piped up, noting how the woman’s eyes were getting heavy. She was curled up on the couch next to her husband who was holding their son once again. Donna was picking up the mess left by the family.

“Mmm that sounds good but he will have to feed soon, I should just stay here,” Y/n answered with a hum. She couldn’t deny, a nap sounded wonderful but everything was about Ezra and his needs now.

“Couldn’t we just give him a bottle?” Jensen asked, earning a shake of the head from both of the women in the room.

“No, if you guys are committed to breastfeeding, she’s got to get her milk supply in and the best way to do that is for him to feed. Also, there is nipple confusion,” Donna stated matter of fact with Y/n nodding along the whole time.

“Nipple confusion?” Jensen looked to his wife, confusion written all over his face. The term sounded familiar to the actor, but he couldn’t for the life of him come up with a definition.

“It means that Ezra could get confused between the bottle and the breast, and the concern is that he would prefer the bottle,” Y/n explained, her hand absentmindedly running along her son’s cheek.

Jensen nodded in understanding and shrugged, “Not if he’s my son.”

The new mother reared back in confusion. “Why?” was the only thing Y/n could say after she and Donna looked at him with equal disgust and disappointment. Jensen grimaced under their looks before she continued. “Your mother is in the room.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Mom, I don’t know why I said it,” the look of shame on his face morphed into fear as he prepared for a scolding, but that moment never came. Instead, Donna stood and walked over to where they were seated.

“Alright, give me the kid,” the older Mrs. Ackles reached out for her grandson. Jensen gave him up without question. “Both of you need to sleep. Don’t worry, I will come and get you if he gets hungry.”

“It’s best not to argue with her when she makes that face,” Jensen muttered under his breath, but not so quiet that his mother didn’t hear him. She raised her brow at him, an action that was remarkably similar to the one Jensen often emulated.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Y/n agreed, allowing her husband to help her to her feet. Jensen gave his mom a quick peck on the cheek in passing as he pulled his wife along with him to their bedroom.

Inside the curtains were still drawn from when they had left yesterday, only a small sliver of light peeking into the room from its edges. Neither of them bothered with changing, knowing it was too much work for now. Instead, Jensen just turned down the bed, allowing them to slip under the cool covers. He settled into the pillows, lifting his arm to invite her back to his side. Of course, she obliged, snuggling into his chest with one hand placed where she could feel the steady beat of his heart under her fingertips.

Jensen wrapped his arm around her, his hand resting against her arm, rubbing soft circles against her skin. He stared up at the ceiling in the semi-dark room, watching the spinning blades of their ceiling fan make countless revolutions. His mind was racing, all the emotions of the last day starting to get to him now that he had nothing else to focus on.

Y/n was silent as well, but he knew she hadn’t fallen asleep yet, her body still too tense to have fully succumbed to the exhaustion. If he wanted to ever get some shut-eye, he knew he had to get some things off his chest. He needed to let go.

“You know what this reminds me of?” There was a gruff undertone to his voice, yet it still managed to be soft as he sought to not startle his wife. She hummed in response, letting him know she was listening. “Our first night together. Well, after… everything.”

“How so?” Y/n shifted so she could have a better view of her husband who now had her full attention.

“I couldn’t sleep then either. Too much going on in my head,” Jensen took a deep breath, his eyes still on the ceiling as he continued. “I kind of have this tendency to push all my emotions to the side to deal with them another time, even if that other time never comes, but that night, I just… I couldn’t get myself to do it. As I stared down at you, sleeping against my chest with that stupid little content smile on your face, I realized that you were worth all of it, every emotion: the fear, the anxiety, and even the guilt; they were all worth feeling for you.”

The crease in her brow deepened as her husband confessed to her what he went through that night. Jensen looked down at her then, a smile on his face and tears once again pooling in his eyes. He brought up his hand to caress her cheek before continuing.

“I never believed in love at first sight, hell, I still don’t, because even through all of that fear and anxiety what I felt most of all was love, and that didn’t happen overnight. It happened in the weeks we had spent in the makeup trailer, in the way you trusted me with the things you wouldn’t even tell your brother, and in your sarcastic comebacks that never failed to surprise me. I spent weeks falling in love with you and didn’t even realize it.”

“The only thing I could do was watch you sleep, so irrevocably in love with you that I was scared if I pushed away those bad feelings… if I didn’t consider every possible thing that could wrong from that moment on, that I would lose the best thing in my life now, so that’s what I did, just watched you sleep and go over every possible scenario my mind could come up with of how us being together could go wrong. I know...” He had to stop again, needing a moment to take a shuddering breath. “I know that day when I told you we needed a break hurt you and made you question everything I ever said to you and sure we’re past it now, but I really need you to know that when I came to you that next morning and asked you to go on one date with me, I didn’t make that decision lightly. I had decided before you even tried to sneak out of the guesthouse that you were worth everything.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” After he was silent for a moment, she couldn’t bear it any longer.

“Because I… I feel so much right now that I can’t shut it out. The love I feel for you and our son right now, I want to stay in that feeling forever. Even if it means facing every fear or anxiety over making sure you both are safe and happy and thriving. I just had to let you know that you two are my whole world now and I will spend the rest of my life never letting you forget it,” Jensen confessed, allowing the tears that he had been biting back now flow freely. Deep down he knew it was what he needed, that release of every emotion before he could truly relax. Just like she also knew that the time for words was over.

“Thank you for telling me that,” she nuzzled back into his side, pressing her cheek against his chest to listen to his heart again. Y/n knew it wasn’t easy for her husband to admit all of that to her. Those true moments where he exposed himself fully to her were rare. Not that she minded, Y/n didn’t need him to cut out his heart and serve it on a silver platter. Her husband was a man of action. He showed her all she needed to know in every first cup of coffee he brings her in the mornings or running her a bath when she needs time alone. Marriage is as much about the little things as it is about any grand declaration. If you asked Y/n, she would take the soft smiles and lingering touches over a grand speech any day, but this was nice too.

Part 12: Home

Forevers: @22sarah08 @akshi8278 @anathewierdo @atc74 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @briagallen @callmekda @dawnie1988 @deandreamernp @deanwanddamons @ellewritesfix05 @emoryhemsworth @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @janicho88 @jensengirl83 @katehuntington @lyarr24 @malfoysqueen14 @miss-nerd95 @mrsjenniferwinchester @msmarvelouswinchester @polina-93 @sleepylunarwolf @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @smol-and-grumpy @suckmyapplejacks @superfanficnatural @supraveng @talesmaniac89 @thoughts-and-funnies @tranquility-or-chaos @waywardbeanie @winchest09

Happiness Continues: @afangirlreacts @anaelsbrunette @ashleyrose0117 @austin-winchester67 @cno92 @deanbowlegsackles @deangirl93 @deans-baby-momma @death-unbecomes-you @dvnmbabe @fangirl199813 @spndestiellover @hoboal87 @itsdesiree86 @jbsgirl4eber11 @let-me-luve-you @linki-locks11 @lunarmoon8 @neverland14353 @onethirstyunicorn @parinarain @rebeccathefangirl @rebelemilu @smoothdogsgirl @spnfamily-j2 @squirrelnotsam @stoneyggirl @supernatural3002 @traceyaudette @winchestergirl82 @winqhster @zpandaqueen

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zebrabaker · 4 years

Text

Choosing Destiny; Part 3

Here we go!

Raven followed Vil down the halls of the dorms, trying to ignore the stares of those around her. There were dozens of boys lining the halls, peaking out of various rooms, staring at her and whispering to each other. There must have been at least a hundred of them, all staring at her like she was…interesting. This was so weird. Less than four hours ago, she had been the most hated person at school, now she was the interesting new girl.

“Raven, dear, are you okay? You look rather stunned.” Vil asked, setting a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m fine! Just a little overwhelmed.” She answered, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m only ever the center of attention when it’s bad.”

“That’s nonsense, mademoiselle. Here, you’ll be treated far better than that.” Rook smiled, ruffling her hair a little, making her giggle.

“Rook! Her hair was perfect!” Vil snapped, hands flying to fix Raven’s hair. Raven suddenly froze, grabbing a random lock of hair and pulling it in front of her face, before groaning.

“My magic wore off!” She huffed, letting the hair fall.

“What do you mean?” Epel asked.

“I usually use magic to keep a small glamour over my hair, adding in purple streaks. It makes me look more like my mom. Without it, I get confused for a Royal.”

“But…you are royalty.” Epel pointed out.

“Not Royalty, a Royal. Ever After was divided by civil war for a few years when I was young. The first faction was the Royals, typically Princesses and Prince Charmings, or those who got happy endings. They were led by Snow White and her husband, James Charming. Then, there were the Rebels, monsters, beasts, witches, and other villainous beings. They, well, they were led by my Mom. As is, I don’t look much like previous Evil Queens, I look more like a Royal, even a Princess Charming if you push. Hence the heels, and the glamour and makeup.” Vil hummed to confirm he was listening around a mouthful of bobby pins as he quickly braided her hair back.

“So, wait, your mom led a civil war?” Rook asked. “What was she fighting for?”

“Huh? I…I don’t know. After the Rebels lost, my Mom was locked away for good, and everyone was forbidden from even mentioning the war. We don’t even learn about it in school much. It’s seriously taboo to talk about it. My visits with Mom were all heavily monitored so that I wouldn’t accidentally let her out of the mirror dimension, so I never got to ask about it. She just said that she hoped I would follow in her footsteps.” Fiddling with the end of her braid once Vil was done, Raven frowned a bit. It had always bothered her, never knowing why her mother was serving a life sentence.

“Well, now is not the time for such heavy matters. We have an audience waiting on you, and Headmaster Crowley has called a meeting for all Dorm Leaders tomorrow morning, and has requested your attendance.”

“Okay. Um, before we begin, how many people are going to be asking me questions?” She asked, biting her lip.

“Oh, only about one hundred eighty!” Vil cheered, steering her by the shoulder into the main room from earlier. Raven gulped. This was so not what she had planned for today!

X0X0X

Raven had been seated in a plush plum-colored armchair in the center of the room, opposite the fireplace. Everyone was gathered around her, making her feel painfully claustrophobic.

“So, where are you from, Princess?” One voice asked from the back of the crowd.

“Well, my Dad rules the Good Kingdom, so I grew up in the palace. It’s technically split in half between Mom and Dad. I was raised mainly by servants, since Dad wasn’t too happy with his destiny, and Mom was locked away. I learned a lot of valuable skills though. I can cook, clean up after myself, I can balance a budget, and my Nanny taught me to play guitar and a few other instruments.”

“Could you play for us, Princess?” One of the boys near the front asked.

“An excellent idea!” Rook cheered.

“I…I guess? I should be able to summon my guitar if you’ll all give me a minute.” Raven stammered, cheeks and ears stained red with blush.

“Only if you don’t mind, mademoiselle,” Rook assured her, setting a hand on her shoulder.

“Not at all, I don’t get to play much, so this will be nice!” Raven patted his hand, before closing her eyes. What Raven did not see, however, was the vivid purple aura surrounding her as she murmured in the ancient tongue her mother had taught her. The purple aura around her began to condense into a tight mist, before taking the shape of a guitar. With a loud popping of displaced air, a plain purple guitar appeared in her lap. There was a floral pattern painted around the hole, which looked to be done in shades of silver and grey.

“It worked!” Raven cheered, running her hands down the strings. “What do you guys want to hear?” She asked, looking at the crowd. Sadly, she got no answer, as the entire crowd was captivated by the way her lavender eyes sparkled with happiness in the light.

“Why not play your favorite song, Princess?” One of the boys who helped her earlier asked.

“Okay!” Raven chirped and began to tune the instrument. “This is one my Mom used to sing to me each night, before she was sent away. Sorry if I’m not very good.”

“I’m sure you sound lovely, Raven,” Vil assured. Raven shrugged, before beginning to play.

“Where the Northwind…meets the sea~.” Raven’s voice was…enchanting, high and sweet and pure. “There’s a river, full of memory. Sleep my darling, safe and sound. For in this river, all is found. When all is lost, all is found~.” The whole dorm was silent, staring at the tiny angel whose voice seemed to come from heaven itself. As her song wound down, she seemed to come out of a trance. “Where the north wind meets the sea, there’s a mother, full of memory. Come, my darling, homeward bound. Where all is lost, then all is found. All is found, all is found…” Raven, who had kept her eyes closed as she sang, slowly opened her eyes.

“Raven, that was most wondrous!” Rook cheered, clapping wildly.

“Rook is quite right, dear. I simply must record you playing for my MagiCam sometime.”

“I will not lie to you; I have no idea what that is.” Raven giggled. “So, Vil said you guys had questions for me?” She set the guitar aside, folding her hands in her lap and smiling at the crowd.

“How did you get here?” A redhead asked.

“Ah, I was practicing my magic and got scared…something went wrong, and I wound up in the woods here. I was wandering for hours when I found the school, and Rook helped me to the nurse. After that, headmaster Crowley said…something about enrolling me? He had me sorted, and then called Epel here to escort me to the dorms. Honestly, it’s been an intense few hours!”

X0X0X

As Raven fielded questions, Epel kept a close eye on her. She was being nothing less than the epitome of polite, answering all the questions she was asked, but her shoulders were starting to slump.

“So, Princess, do you have a boyfriend?” One of the boys further back called. Raven suddenly went a deep red.

“Or a girlfriend?” One closer to the front added.

“No! The one guy I kinda like is…not interested in me. He would never be.” Raven smiled in a melancholy way.

“What? Dear, you’re royalty!” Vil gasped, clutching his throat like a lady of old England.

“I’m also the daughter of the Rebel leader, Vil, and he’s expected to be the next Prince Charming, as in the guy who marries Snow White. Not exactly an ideal relationship.” Raven sighed a bit. “Anyway, anyone else have questions?” Several hands shot into the air, making Raven giggle.

“Vil, hey!” Epel whispered, tugging on the taller boy’s sleeve a little. Vil raised an eyebrow at him, keeping his attention on their resident royal. “Raven looks pretty tired, and she’s had a long day. We need to make sure she gets her beauty sleep, right?” Vil tensed at the magic words.

“Alright, that’s plenty of questions for now! You can all get to know Raven later; she needs her sleep.” There was a collection of disappointed groans, but everyone slowly bid Raven goodnight, trickling out of the common room in clumps and batches.

“Thanks, Vil. I was starting to get pretty tired.”

“Of course, dear. You will, of course, be joining me for my evening skincare routine. I create my cosmetics and skincare products, so they’re top of the line. Epel, Rook, go make sure that Raven’s room is completely ready.” Both boys nodded and walked off, leaving Vil to lead Raven to his bathroom.

X0X0X

Vil eyed Raven as he gently scrubbed off his makeup. She was eyeing his array of skincare products with great interest, and yet there was a wary air about her. Going through the steps, he explained the ingredients of each product, along with their general purpose.

“-and this one contains apple extract; its purpose is to serve as a sunblock of kinds.”

“I…can’t use that one,” Raven muttered, burying her face behind a curtain of her hair.

“But Raven, you’re so pale! It cannot be safe for your skin to be out in the sun, exposed to the light.” Vil tutted, crossing his arms.

“It…it’s stupid, but I’m allergic to apples. Just the skin makes me go into anaphylactic shock, I can’t be anywhere near them. Like I said, stupid. Who’s ever heard of the evil queen not being able to handle apples?” Raven chuckled a bit, but Vil could see in her eyes that this deeply bothered her.

“Well, in the traditional tale, the one I was taught, the queen tried a myriad of ways to dispose of Snow White, like a cursed comb or an enchanted corset. Besides, you said you didn’t sign the book, so there’s no point in fretting.” Vil shrugged, handing Raven a face cloth. “If you can’t use that one,” Vil made a mental note to dispose of the bottle later. He was responsible for this sweet girl, accidentally sending her into shock would be terrible. “then try this. Cucumbers and pomegranate juice. Works wonders.” Yes, Vil was determined to protect this girl.

Once they had both cleaned their faces and applied a variety of things that Raven was very confused by (Vil had looked like a ghost when she said she usually just used soap and water to wash her face) Vil had asked her to wait in the hall while he checked his room for something. He stepped back out a moment later, holding a bundle of shimmery cloth in both hands. “I want you to have this, dear. It’s my back-up robe. We typically eat breakfast as a dorm in our pajamas, but it isn’t appropriate for a young lady, especially a princess, to be seen in her pajamas. Speaking of, do you have appropriate sleep clothes?”

“I can just change this into something, don’t worry!” Vil paused, before sighing.

“If you insist. Good night, Raven dear.”

“Good night, Vil!” Raven chirped, making an about-face and walking to her room, closing the door and leaning back against it with a sigh. Summoning her guitar had taken a lot out of her. It was a complicated spell normally, but with the odd barrier between here and Ever After, it had nearly knocked the wind out of her. Not to mention the endless questions, she honestly didn’t understand! She wasn’t special, she was a villain! Even Dad had been wary of her most of her life! Summoning the dregs of her magic with a sigh, Raven switched her transfigured dress into a comfortable set of sleep pants and a tank top in a shade of teal that made her desperately miss Maddie. Throwing the robe Vil had given her (it was lovely, a rich purple with gold patterning and a large gold sash) over the back of a chair, she slumped over to the bed and collapsed onto it, groaning at how soft it was. This had certainly been one hell of a day.

X0X0X

The knock at the door came far too early. Groaning, Raven dragged a pillow over her head and rolled over, effectively tangling herself in the comforter.

“Mademoiselle Raven, breakfast is ready!” Rook (he was the only one with a habit of speaking French, oddly enough) called through the door. “Vil also needs to escort you to the dorm leader meeting today, so you won’t have much time for breakfast.”

“Just two minutes and I’ll be out!” She called back, sitting up with a silent huff.

“Alright! Vil had me bring you a basket of shower things, I’ll leave it out here for you.”

“Thanks a million, Rook.” Raven slowly swung her legs over the edge of the bed, shivering when the cool floor came in contact with her feet. Thinking fast, she transfigured a random dust bunny she spotted from the corner of her eye into a pair of slippers that matched her pajamas. Grabbing the robe from the chair at the last second, Raven swung it over her shoulders, tying the sash as she made her way to the door. Upon opening the door, the first thing to catch her attention was the basket of bottles set on the floor. There were three bottles and a few washcloths, along with two large fluffy looking towels, a toothbrush in a sealed bag, and a container of toothpaste. On closer inspection, the bottles, which contained a pearlescent powder blue substance, were shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Heaving a sigh of relief, Raven set the basket on the vanity and stepped into the hall, absent-mindedly wrangling her voluminous hair into a set of pigtails. Looking around the halls, she cautiously followed the source of the noises she could hear, voices and the clinking of dishware. After a few minutes of wandering, she found a large dining room filled with several circular tables, each filled with boys in pajamas. Along the furthest wall was a long table, loaded with foods of all kinds. Raven had barely set foot into the room when she heard Vil call for her.

“There you are, dear! Come sit down, we need to eat.” He was seated at a larger table in the middle of the room, with Epel on one side and an empty chair on the other. Raven slowly made her way over, conscious of all the eyes on her.

“Good morning, Raven.”

“Good morning, Epel!” Raven responded with a smile. Without Epel, she probably wouldn’t have gotten to go to bed till much later last night.

“I already got you a plate, so dig in,” Vil commanded. Raven complied, beaming at the selection in front of her. There was a strip of bacon, an omelet, and a small bowl of what was likely yogurt, topped with nuts. Honestly, it looked like a breakfast she would have at home, with Cook. Picking up her fork, Raven took a moment to observe those around her. Vil’s manners were impeccable, while Rook’s were decent, and Epel’s made her want to cringe a little. Despite being the next Evil Queen, she was still a princess, and had been given almost four years of etiquette lessons as a kid. From what she could see of other tables, it was a mixed bag.

“I can’t lie, I’m pretty happy to see a healthy breakfast. At Ever After High, it’s all sweet foods and pastries every morning. Most of us Rebel kids can’t stomach it, but the Royals love it, so we don’t ever get anything good.” Raven commented, cutting up her omelet into small pieces.

“Really? How odd, here every dorm takes a weekly poll on what to have for breakfast each week. Headmaster Crowley would never exclude an entire group of students like that.” Epel scoffed, wrinkling his nose.

“Indeed.” Vil sniffed. “I can’t imagine that’s very good for their skin, either. Ah well, you’re here now, Raven, and that’s all that matters.” Raven smiled a little. Yeah, this wasn’t so bad, not at all.

X0X0X

As soon as Raven finished eating, Vil shooed her off to get ready for the day, making Raven giggle. He may act vain, but the boy was rather maternal. Once she was back in her room, Raven quickly hopped in the shower, pleased to find that the shampoo and conditioner Vil gave her were not heavily scented, but instead smelled faintly of jasmine. After she had rinsed the last of the conditioner, Raven hopped out and spelled one of the towels to dry her hair as she brushed her teeth. For some reason, her magic was working far better here than it ever had back home. Not once had something gone wrong. It was odd, being able to rely on her magic. Shrugging it off as a problem for later, Raven spelled her clothes clean and transfigured them into the same clothes as yesterday, this time pulling her hair into a four-strand braid. Sliding her feet into her heels, Raven made her way back into her room proper right as someone knocked on the door.

“Just a second!” She called, trying not to glance at the mirror on the vanity out of the corner of her eye. She’d need to get something to cover that with. Raven opened the door to see Vil, wearing an odd layered outfit, waiting on her.

“You look lovely dear. Now, we barely have time to do your makeup, but I’m nothing if not capable under pressure.” Vil grabbed her shoulders and spun her about, guiding her over to the vanity. Raven sucked in a deep breath at seeing herself in the reflection. She neverlooked in mirrors if she could help it, especially for long periods. With the glamour out of her hair and no lipstick, she almost looked like her half-sister….

“Now, I’m thinking a natural look, we’ll leave your lips bare, but a touch of highlighter and blush will look lovely. Hold still, this won’t take five minutes.” Vil’s words snapped her from her thoughts, making her shake her head a little. With expert precision, Vil swiped a brush across the top of her cheekbones and along the bridge of her nose. After a few more swipes, he clicked the compact in his hand closed, smiling.

“I am too good. Alright, take a look and then let’s be off, it would be rude to be late.” Vil was so busy packing his things back into his purse that he didn’t notice the slight panic in Raven’s eyes when she realized that she needed to look in the mirror. Taking as quick a glance as possible, Raven stood and pushed the chair in.

“Ready when you are!” She chirped, folding her hands in front of herself.

“Alright then, let’s be off! I can say with certainty that the other dorm leaders will adore you.” Vil said, smoothing a few flyaway hairs out of Raven’s face.

I hope so… Raven thought.

@keiwahikari

@sayuricorner

#my writing #ever after high salt

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lovelyirony · 4 years

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Hello. I'm having kind of a shit day ( just found out my sister's hair was full of lice) so if you wouldn't mind could you write some thorbruce? Sorry if this bothers you, I hope you and your family are doing ok

this could never bother me. I hope that this little story helps! i really wanted something comedic, or at least my attempt at it. so without further ado...a fusion of a thief AU and royalty AU!

Bruce Banner technically has a career as a scientist. He writes research papers occasionally, helps out with other science projects, and wears smart, science-y glasses.

And so what if he just happens to make most of his money stealing rich people things like paintings, wine, and other assorted items off of boats and out of houses? Well, that’s extra. Doesn’t even go on any tax forms.

“You’re gonna get something done to you one of these days,” Tony tells him over margaritas. Tony is one of the rare people who caught him, let him still take the Warhol because “I sure as hell didn’t pick it out, I have taste,” and invited Bruce for cocktails.

“Of course I am. Maybe jail.”

“No, not that,” Tony says. “You forget I will be offering my lawyers. They could get the devil himself scot-free. And you’re way better than that guy.”

“Then what?”

“You’re going to have to balance yourself,” Tony says, smiling. “And I can’t wait to see you pull it off.”

Bruce wishes he had more friends like Tony, because unfortunately both Jane and Helen have texted him that he’s screwed for his next goal: Odin.

Odin is a king who made his whole goal to cover up the shady dealings of his reign, and while his sons are doing better to call it out and bring about new policy ideas now that it is said that Odin will be retiring from the throne, so to speak, nothing has changed yet.

Bruce knows that people say the next king in line, Thor, is very similar to his father.

So he’s planning on infiltrating a party. This involves getting a planet ticket to Asgard, sneaking in, and maybe also leaving by boat. He’s not sure yet, depends on how quickly Tony can engineer a self-steering boat.

(The boat’s gonna be there.)

“You’re gonna get your ass kicked,” Helen snickers over drinks. “Have you seen his arms?”

“I’ve heard your ramblings about ten or twenty times, yes,” Bruce says. “For someone who loves their wife as much as you do, you also have an interesting love for Thor’s arms.”

“They’re buff!” Helen protests. “Jane also nice arms, but they are not buff.”

“Guilty as charged,” Jane says from the kitchen, rolling her eyes. “Bruce, be careful. And for the love of god, don’t talk to any of them if you can.”

“Like I would.”

Thor is very bored with present society. His father has banned all of his friends from attending, Loki has decided to go on their own way in as outrageous of a dress as they could find, in any case guaranteeing that their mother’s attention would be focused on making sure that they had the right accessories.

There is not one interesting person to talk to.

Thor is bored.

This means Thor isn’t so much as paying attention to any sort of conversation and has found one new guest that he has never met before.

“Hello,” he says.

The man whirls around. He has curly, nearly-messy hair. Nice nose.

“I don’t think we’ve met before,” Thor says. “I’m Thor.”

“I’m Bruce,” Bruce blurts out, because he is a Class-A Idiot.

Of course he gets caught at a royal function.

“And you haven’t met me before. I’m a...scientist.”

Thor smiles.

“Well, what study of interest are you in?”

“DNA sequencing,” Bruce says weakly. “And you are...Thor, right?”

“Yes,” Thor says, smiling. “Did my father invite you?”

“Your mother,” Bruce says, knowing that Queen Frigga is occupied at the moment trying to ensure that Loki is not stealing all of the strawberries. She cannot possibly come over and confirm his story or realize that she has no idea who he is.

“How is your night faring, Your Highness?” Bruce asks nervously. He cannot make eye contact.

“None of that,” Thor says with a chuckle. “That title is...stuffy. Overused. I’m just a regular person who is assuming a throne.”

“Any plans then, regular person?” Bruce asks in a snarky tone, grinning.

“None that I’m comfortable sharing within earshot,” Thor mutters under his breath, into his drink. Bruce smiles.

His eyes crinkle up. That’s cute.

“Good idea. Never know what your father listens to.”

“Not a fan?” Thor asks.

“Can’t say I’m dedicated,” Bruce answers with a shrug. Thor smiles, leaning in closer.

Thor’s about to answer more, willing to speak with this man. The night was turning around, and--

Odin claps him on the back.

“Thor, I have some people you must talk to for the future,” he says, not even sparing Bruce a glance as he turns his son towards a group of the most ancient looking old men Bruce has seen.

Thor swivels his head back.

“I hope to see you again!” Thor calls.

Bruce waves.

“Probably not,” Bruce sighs to himself. “But I’m sure you also won’t see some of your vases again.”

In the news, they reported that it had to be at least a three-man job. The surveillance didn’t help, heirlooms had been nicked out of at least six different rooms, and top secret documents had been spilled out into the back lawn, some artfully arranged as if they were reading material for the next garden party.

Thor has an idea of who did it. Has since his mother confusedly asked “who’s Bruce?”

He’s clever, that’s for sure. Going directly to the house? Using Odin’s disregard of people he doesn’t think are worth his time? Oh, it’s perfect.

It would also make a good quality in a husband, if he says so himself.

Bruce is currently lying on his back at Jane’s house, the sunshine warming him.

“You’re gonna die!” Helen yells. “You told him your name and you are storing, just casually, a priceless artifact!”

"I’m not storing it. I just put it back in a museum,” Bruce says.

“You think that Odin’s honestly not going to get it back?”

“Nope,” Bruce says. “Because he didn’t change the paperwork on it and it has a loan repayment clause thingy. I don’t know how it works but he needs to pay the museum for it and it’ll be bad press for a while. That and his shady dealings with repressing country public opinion. I think Thor’s up to the plate.”

He is. Bruce is right. Odin has rescinded his claim on the throne, allowing a coronation to be held for Thor.

“Are you gonna go?” Jane asks.

Bruce snorts.

“And what, risk being detained in Asgardian jail or being murdered? Nah,” Bruce says. “Besides, I probably won’t ever really interact with them ever again. And I have no purpose for being there.”

Bruce isn’t sure how. But he gets an invitation to go. Well, he’s sure how he got it. Thor remembered him, probably found out that he wasn’t supposed to be there.

He’s mad.

He’s from fucking Ohio. He knows that no one is supposed to notice him under any circumstance besides maybe an eating competition or a tornado warning.

“You have to go,” Tony says. “I’ll be there, I can cause a distraction. Loki owes me a favor.”

“How does Loki owe you a favor?”

“They needed some help with executing a perfect red carpet walk a couple years back to ensure they upstaged someone. I don’t know who, but I helped. Loki owes me.”

“But why do I have to go?”

“Because if you don’t then Thor’s not gonna stop,” Tony says. “Because if he personally invited you, that means something. It means you’re either going to die or he’s going to make sure he has a very fun time at his own coronation.”

“Why wouldn’t you have fun being coronated or whatever the fuck you call it?”

Two hours in. There’s been two hours of this. Bruce has fallen asleep twice, and Tony keeps jabbing him in the side.

“Decorum,” Tony hisses. “If you fall asleep, you’re going to cause a scene.”

“So sorry that I don’t find this just entirely interesting,” Bruce says, “I wasn’t the one who minored in anthropology.”

“Majored,” Tony says. “Among other things.”

“Is this when we couldn’t find you for a year? Like, when you went to California or whatever and had a crisis?”

“I didn’t have a crisis,” Tony says.

“Sure you didn’t,” Bruce said, snorting. “You were sad and probably ate five loaves of pumpernickel in one day.”

“If you keep talking we’re gonna get kicked out, and I want my record of being kicked out of royal events to be kept to a minimum of two.”

“You’ve been kicked out of two?”

“One was England. That’s practically a given.” Tony hisses. “Now no more.”

Bruce falls asleep again.

Thor catches him in the audience.

He has to bite his own tongue to stop from laughing. Sif side-eyes him.

He raises an eyebrow. She looks out into the crowd, sees the man who has fallen asleep. She stills, trying very hard not to laugh.

“Is that the man you want to pursue?” she whispers as the officiants droll on about tradition. Thor nods. Sift snorts. “Of course you do.”

The party afterwards is tasteful. People are in a line to congratulate Thor. Bruce is by the appetizer table slowly but surely stealing all of the colby-jack cheese slices.

“I hate you,” Tony says to Bruce. “You’re a menace to society.”

“Put that on my headstone, see if my ghost sticks around to cause trouble,” Bruce says. “Besides, I am not paying for any of this. I’m already eyeing the chocolate fountain.”

Tony rolls his eyes.

“I suppose this is what I get for bringing you here.”

“You literally did not have to, I got an invite and you forced me to come,” Bruce says. “And all because I stole priceless artifacts. Ugh.”

Thor finally manages to escape a long line of well-wishers/want-to-make-sure-he-won’t-do-things-he’s-gonna-do people.

He finds Bruce slowly but surely demolishing the pineapple.

“Nice to see you again, Dr. Banner,” he says. Bruce stills, turning.

“I wasn’t expecting to even meet you today again,” Bruce says, smiling. “How have things been?”

“I’ve gotten some more space for storage,” Thor says, referencing to the act of stealing and also revealing his father’s less-than-golden past. “Thank you for that, by the way.”

Bruce stills.

“You...know?”

“The queen knows no one by the name of Bruce who is a scientist. You paused. Terrible lie, really. You’re lucky you’re quite good-looking and my father is a fool.”

Bruce looks at him.

“I stole a lot of shit from your house and you’re calling me good-looking?” Bruce asks.

“Well to be fair, I’m just glad you didn’t steal my blanket on my bed. It’s pretty soft, pretty valuable,” Thor says grinning.

“Didn’t get to see that room,” Bruce responds.

“You’ll have to come up with me some time then.”

Bruce almost spills his drink.

“Are you...?”

“Flirting with you? Yes.”

Bruce takes a sip of his drink.

“Interesting. Although I hardly doubt your mother will be pleased to see you talking with someone who stole things.”

“On the contrary, she most likely won’t mind,” Thor says, smiling. “Just because she married my father doesn’t necessarily mean they’re affectionate.”

Bruce tilts his head.

“So what you’re saying is that no one in your family likes your dad?”

“Not especially. Kind of a bastard, if you ask me.”

Bruce laughs.

“So. What kinds of things does a king like to do for a date?”

Thor puts a finger on his chin, teasingly.

“Well I’m not sure. Is it kingly of me to offer a lunch?”

“I would say I’ll accept,” Bruce says, laughing. “So long as it’s a good lunch.”

Tony is gasping in disbelief as he sees Thor put a hand on the small of Bruce’s back, leading him to meet the queen.

“Only my brother,” Loki says, pursing their lips. “Of course he falls in love with the man who stole from the kingdom and would probably be arrested for about twenty years.”

“He does that,” Tony says. “Thank you again, for inviting me.”

“No problem,” Loki says. “God knows I needed someone else to judge the questionable fashion choices people made. Just...ugh. Look at her shoes.”

“I need another drink to even think about looking at those,” Tony says, turning towards the bar.

With Thor and Bruce, the kingdom gets two excellent rulers. Bruce is more focused on environment sustainability and education infrastructure, and can frequently be seen leading children all over the grounds of the kingdom, identifying herbs and plants and grinning as they picnic for lunch.

Thor focuses more on bringing more of the...unfavorable history to light, reinventing what he wants for his country, and leading by example.

Of course, Bruce and Thor are photographed together getting breakfast, lunch, and on one memorable occasion, in-sync eye-rolling at a United States event.

(Tony gets it framed for their wedding gift.)

#HI SO SORRY THIS CAME SO LATE #I WAS REALLY TRYING TO MAKE IT GOOD #some of the plot is questionable because i am absolute shit with plots but! firm belief that thor just loves bruce #also YES i made loki nonbinary i can do that because they are #loki #thor #sif #tony stark #helenjane #bruce banner #thorbruce #bruce: steals from odin #thor: did you know i would actually marry you #lovelyirony writes

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treatian · 4 years

Text

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Dark Curse

Chapter 203: Disillusions of a Former Queen

Damn nobility and their noble intentions. Or perhaps he should damn the farm boy who respected such traditions of public love that kept him from sleeping with the Queen!

He tried to even the odds. After seeing Cinderella to the ball and taking his final wand home with him, he'd gone to great lengths to ensure when Snow and David finally set out to return they were stuck in the woods together, alone, on a chilly night, with several blankets and plenty of kindling for a fire. He'd practically spelled it out for them. Still, it hadn't worked. They'd made a fire and a shelter, then hunkered down and slept together but with hands in respectable positions and clothes securely fastened to the body. That night he'd surrendered to the fact that until they married in front of others, they would not consummate their marriage.

Wedding planning was good, as asinine as he thought it was, at least it excited him that they would finally be beyond silly human expectations. The biggest problem that faced them now was that Snow and David were not the only ones planning. Regina is up to something too.

After being exiled by Snow and David, she'd returned to her palace. She'd gathered together a few who were faithful and loyal to her, mostly members of her private guard who she'd always treated well. Her father had taken on the duties of running the household. How they managed to pay everyone eluded him, but that wasn't the part that he really cared about.

What he minded was the moment that he'd lost track of her. On the evening that he'd tried to get Snow and David together, Regina had mysteriously and without explanation vanished. He'd searched the realm for her but came up with nothing, not until morning when she reappeared and what he saw her doing…it made little sense to him.

He saw Regina chasing villagers out of a small town, all but one; one that she'd brought with her; one she talked to and seemed to know well. It was someone he'd never seen before.

After she finished burning the village to the ground, she talked to the man again, and he sat down against a wall as if he belonged there. He was tempted to follow Regina when she left, but instinct told him it wasn't her he needed to watch, but him. They were planning something, something she wasn't going to do but rather use him to do. So he kept his eyes on the man and the town, watched as he just sat there with his chin to his chest. He was pretty sure that he had fallen asleep at one point, but then, maybe a few hours later, Snow and David rode in and made contact with the stranger, after Charlotte saw to his hand, with an awkward pause between them if he'd ever seen one, they took him back to their palace. They gave him clothes and a bedroom and showed him the wine cellar. The entire time he kept glancing at Charlotte. And he kept talking about the attack on the town. But…

No, that wasn't right. He spoke of how Regina invaded, how she burned everything that he'd own, everything that he had! But he knew that wasn't true. He knew it because he'd seen her bring him with her. He hadn't lived there as he told the King and Queen. Why would he say he had? Unless he was a plant. Regina had left him there for a purpose, this purpose. She knew her step-daughter and the King well; she had to have known that she would take in a stray dog.

That evening, when they finally left him alone for a time, he snuck out of the palace. He wasn't surprised to see him ride a horse into Regina's palace grounds. Curious and unwilling to let her get her way by working around a loophole, he made himself invisible and appeared in her bedroom. He cocked his head to one side at the sight that met him.

Regina was in her room, but she wasn't lounging or reading or even having her way with the hunter she still kept in her possession. She was fighting—sword fighting. A member of her guard was facing off against her. Was…past tense, for no sooner had the stranger showed up did he watch her run him through, and the guard's heartbeat stopped. The guard died, fell to the floor in a heap with Regina grinning like a fool. The man, the fighting, the disappearance…what was she doing?

"Impressive, Your Majesty."

He looked up to see the stranger standing there in the entryway to her bedroom. He stood tall, properly. He was dressed well in the clothes that the King and Queen had given him, there was a scar over his eye, and now that he heard him speak, he had to admit that it was eloquent. Who had she hunted down? And for what purpose?

"Well, what can I say?" Regina smiled, running her fingers over her blade and smelling the blood of her guard. Sometimes he thought she grew crazier every day. "You inspired me. Perhaps you can give me a lesson. Or two."

So he was a swordsman. Not a Viner as he'd told the King and Queen. But with everyone in her private guard, what did she want with him?

"As much as I'd enjoy that, I can't be late for my first meal with Snow White and her prince," he reported with pride.

"So they believed you," Regina squealed, laughing in delight as she went to her vanity and fetched something from a small box. "I knew their insufferable kindness would be their downfall." In her hands was a vial, small and dark blue. She worked her way slowly across the room, maintaining her eye contact before giving it to him. "Venom of the Agrabahn viper. A bitter draft...slow and painful."

Fuck.

So that was her play. She could no longer touch the King and Queen, so she was going to use a third party to do it instead of just getting the Curse that he'd already gotten to her. Foolish little girl, how many times did he have to go through this with her?! He was so angry he was ready to reveal himself, to use his magic to fling the man across his room and out the window, so he cracked his head on something hard, and Regina could no longer use him. But one look at the Count told him he didn't have to, not yet. He was timid, eying the vial she'd placed in his hands questionably.

"Is there a problem, Count?" Count. Not an ordinary man, but a Count. That explained the accent and how he spoke so well, but it didn't explain who he was or where he was from.

"What did they do to deserve this?" the Count asked. "They've shown me nothing but kindness."

"Don't tell me you're starting to grow a conscience."

"Call it professional curiosity."

Regina sighed with irritation. "Well, what they did doesn't matter. Only one thing should be on your mind right now...how badly you want your revenge," when she turned, he saw a small piece of paper rolled up in her hand. The Count's eyes narrowed at that paper and then widened with desire. Suddenly his demeanor changed, and without further question or even finishing their conversation, he turned and left.

Regina laughed. "I thought so," she snarled, clearly celebrating her victory, but he had already put enough together to want nothing of her celebration. The Count, whoever he was, wherever he was from, was here to do her dirty work. Revenge motivated him. He'd made a deal with her to get that piece of paper. Whatever it held was probably related to his revenge, perhaps a name or location.

"Names…" the Seer whispered helpfully in his head. That was something to know, but it didn't help him now. Only Regina could do that. Not a poor deal, not another who was good with a sword, it had to be Regina! Why did he have to keep going over this?!

"Well, this is very disappointing," he drawled, letting his invisibility spell vanish so she could see him appear. Foolish child had been too busy fighting when he'd arrived to notice the extra magic in the room; that was a mistake her mother and sister wouldn't have made. Sometimes it surprised him how far she had come while standing still. "I mean…I didn't spend years training you so you could spend your days fencing and get someone else to do your dirty work."

"Oh, you know exactly why I'm doing this," Regina said, turning back around to face him. "You put a spell on Snow and Charming so I can't hurt them." Technically it was only on Snow, but he was content to let her think that for the moment until the pair were married and pregnant. After that, she could do whatever she wanted with David so long as the child and Snow were fine…until they wouldn't be.

"Yeah. And then I gave you the Dark Curse so you could take them somewhere where you can," he pointed out.

"I don't care. I'm going to get what I want, and I'll get it without you!" she snapped so quickly he wasn't even sure she'd heard the lifeline he'd just offered. The childish fool didn't need a road map. She just needed to shut up long enough to listen to his suggestions.

"Oh! Are you sure about that?" he questioned, taking another step closer to her. She smelled strange. Her magic smelled…different. Why did it smell so…alluring? And familiar at the same time…

"If you think you can stop the Count, think again."

"Is that a threat?"

She made a sound of confirmation, but he barely heard because she'd turned in just such a way that he'd caught another whiff. He knew that smell. It meant something. It was important to all of this. What was it? What was he missing?

"It's a fact." She stuttered as he moved in closer, put his nose nearly up against her flesh, and inhaled the familiar scent hoping to give himself a hint. Yes, familiar, but not a scent that he'd ever smelled on her. Something he'd smelled somewhere else; on something else. Who? Where did he know it from? "That protection spell you put on the Charmings…" He backed away as her tone suggested menace. "I put the same enchantment on the Count to protect him from you."

Now that had him draw a breath and take a few steps back as she chuckled. Was that true?

"Looks like the student has finally outgrown the teacher," she laughed gaily before puckering her lips in a mock kiss.

He knew what he wanted to do to those lips, to the smirk he saw on them. He'd be happy to wipe both off her face. If she knew what he'd been through, the lengths that he'd gone to so that everything would run smoothly up to this point…she'd understand that no one, not even Merlin, would ever surpass him. If he had to force her to see that the hard way, then so be it.

"We'll see about that, dearie," he threatened before waving his arm and vanishing from her sight.

#Rumbelle #Rumple #Rumpelstiltskin #Dark One #Regina #Evil Queen #David #Prince Charming #Snow White #Snowing #count of monte cristo #ouat #ouat fanfiction #fanfic

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rohad93 · 5 years

Text

A Knight Affair: Chapter 3 - Wake up Call

Blue rose before the sun as she usually did when Yellow was on leave. She had learned to not let a single moment go to waste if she could help it. They never knew when the knight would be sent off again to conquer lands in the queen's name. As if their time wasn’t limited enough by the constant need for secrecy.

The need for a quiet place where they could be alone. Where they could just be together, for as long as they desired. Blue’s greatest fantasy.

But a fantasy was all it was, and she knew it.

A few maids were rushing about the halls, to complete their daily chores, she nodded to them as they passed. Once, years ago they would have stopped to bow or curtsy at her feet, asking if there was anything they could do for her. She’d decided long ago that she didn’t have patience for all the groveling her mother allowed.

‘Oh my, glorious, resplendent, wise, elegant, merciful queen...

They could go on and on and Blue simply didn’t have the time for all of that.

Speaking of…

“Mother!” Blue dipped into a curtsy when she rounded the corner to find her mother climbing the stairs. The queen stared at her for a long moment , seemingly not recognizing her oldest daughter before something seemed to change in her face.

“Ah, Azurine, good morning.” She nodded, but her eyes seemed to be drifting elsewhere. She was dressed in an elegant white gown that trailed behind her. The silver crown, embedded with a large clear diamond sat prominent on her head, dictating to all in doubt who she was.

“You’re up early today, mother.” Blue observed.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. I had to see to the rebellion leaders Captain Stone brought in for interrogation…”

“Were you able to get any useful information out of them?” Blue asked, acutely aware of her mother’s drifting attention, it was often like this these days. As though she could not focus on conversations. Blue frowned, clasping her hands together at her waist.

“No... but they will serve as a warning to the rest of the rebellion…” The queen scowled, no longer looking at her daughter but out one of the hall windows that looked out over the courtyard.

Blue gave a nod unsure what else to say to the distracted queen. Before she could say anything else the queen was walking down the hall, seemingly forgetting about the conversation she was having with her eldest.

Blue started to say something but stopped short, watching her mother amble down the hall, the interaction all but forgotten. She frowned, watching the monarch disappear into her room.

She sighed before heading down the stairs to the dining room. She just didn’t know what to say to her mother anymore. Or even what she heard when she did speak.

When she entered the dining room she wasn’t surprised to see her sister hadn’t yet come down. It was still fairly early after all.

She sat in her usual seat and glanced out the tall windows that lined both sides of the dining room. The sky was beginning to brighten with the light of the rising sun. Blue sat and watched the sky come alive with varying hues of orange, yellow and pink in silence.

When Pink finally wandered into the dining room Blue had been their for nearly an hour, thinking and watching the rising sun spread its light over the empire.

“G’mornin, Blue.” The younger princess mumbled, rubbing at her eye as she plopped into her seat beside the older woman.

“Good morning, Pink.” She smiled at the younger.

“Are we still going to town today?” Pink piped up, remembering Blue’s promise from the day before.

“Of course.” she nodded as a tray of bread and fruit was set down in front of them. “I need to visit the apothecary.” Blue mumbled more to herself than to Pink as she picked up a piece of warm bread, but the younger picked up on it.

“Are you sick?”

The desperate tone in Pink’s voice made Blue turn sharply. The girl was looking up at her with such panic in her bright eyes that Blue’s breath caught in her throat. She turned in the chair to better face the girl.

“No, no Pink, I’m fine.” She soothed, laying her hands on the girls shoulders and giving a gentle squeeze. “Nothing is wrong.” She smiled.

The panic had slowly seeped from Pinks face but she still looked unsure. Her eyes flickered away, only for a moment, but Blue caught it. Their mother’s empty chair.

Blue’s grip on her sister tightened. She had hoped beyond hope that Pink was oblivious to their mother’s… behavior changes as of late.

She sighed deeply through her nose, unsure what to say to the girl about it when she herself wasn’t even sure what was happening.

“Don’t worry.” She finally said after a long moment. “Now eat, so we can be off to town.” She said, turning back to the table. Pink nodded, picking up an apple, but just ran her thumb over its mottled red and yellow skin thoughtfully while picking at her food with her other hand.

When they had finished and Blue could see the younger girl getting antsy but doing her best to be patient. She stood, turning to Pink.

“Shall we go?” She was happy to see the bright smile take up her sisters face.

“Do you think Yellow would come with us?”

“I suppose we could get the captain to escort us into town…” Blue hummed thoughtfully. Yellow’s presence would make them both happy.

“I’ll go get her.” Pink didn’t wait for an answer as she ran up the stairs to the knight captain’s quarters.

“No, Rosaline!” Blue called after the teenager, she quickly gathered up her skirts and gave chase though her sister was already out of sight.

“Oh, damnit” She breathed.

“Yellow!”

“Hngh…”

Inside Yellows personal chambers a lump stirred beneath the wool blankets, a single foot sticking out and hanging off the bed.

“Yellow!”

“Ugh…” Slowly, dull honey eyes blinked open, adjusting to the bright early morning light that was filtering in through her windows. With a languid stretch and a yawn Yellow pushed herself up to sit. She slumped over, eyes starting to slide closed again.

“Yellooooow!” The pounding on her door began again.

“Rosaline…”Yellow grumbled under her breath, whipping the blankets off her legs and plodding to the door.

Blue finally caught up to the younger princess standing outside Yellow’s door and pounding on the wood with her fist.

“Rosaline! You can’t just ...” Blue started as the door swung open, making both girls jump as the groggy and disheveled knight captain appeared, baggy cotton tunic hanging off her shoulders, the golden chain that held the diamond pendant Blue had given her was visible but the gem itself was hidden by the cloth. Pink noticed neither, far more preoccupied by the tired glower the knight was directing down at her.

“What… princess…?” She managed the title almost as an afterthought, tone sharp. Blue bit her lip. Even disgruntled and half awake she found the knight too adorable for her own good.

“I...umm…” Pink stammered, looking up at the very obviously agitated knight. ‘We would like you to escort us to town…” She tried to make it sound like a royal order, but her wavering voice ruined any semblance of authority Pink may have technically possessed

Looking less than impressed, Yellow’s eyes dragged up to Blue, who was biting her lip and doing her best not to laugh at the whole thing. She cleared her throat, making Pink look back at her.

“We were hoping you would accompany us into town this morning, captain.” She smiled, clasping her hands together at her waist.

She looked back down at Pink who was again, looking up at her pleadingly and holding up the apple she’d still had clutched in her hand.

“I brought you something from our meal.” She held out the offering.

Yellow sighed through her nose and took the offered fruit.

“Wait for me in the stables…” She finally said. Pink grinned before taking off down the hall.

Blue watched her disappear down the stairs before turning back to Yellow who was still blinking the sleep from her eyes. A quick glance around confirmed the hall was empty before she took the two steps to close the distance between them and laid a short kiss on the knights cheek.

“I’m sorry she woke you.” She murmured against Yellow’s warm skin.

“I should have been awake already at any rate.” She shrugged, stifling a yawn. Blue resisted the urge to kiss her again, Pink was waiting after all. Later, she promised herself.

“We’ll wait for you.” She turned to go.

“Don’t forget your and Rosaline’s cloaks.” the knight reminded.

Pink could hardly contain herself as they rode through the countryside into town. Watching all their citizens mill about, trading, selling and just living their lives. It fascinated the youngest royal to no end. A life so vastly different to her own, new and intriguing.

“Wouldn’t it just be so interesting, to be something else, to choose to be a seamstress or a cobbler?” She turned to her sister, who gave the girl an amused smile from beneath the hood of her black cloak.

“Perhaps…” was her noncommittal answer.

Yellow pulled the apple Pink had given her out of her jerkin and shined it on the black cloak covering her shoulders as she listened to the sisters talk.

“Choose to spend your entire life in poverty, working all night and day long till you die?” Yellow cocked a brow at the youngest princess as she took a bit out of the fruit. Pink frowned.

“No… just, to do something different for a change. Besides, I’m a princess, I can do whatever I want.” Pink huffed, turning up her nose. Yellow’s response was to bring her horse closer and reach out and flip Pinks hood up, making the girl squeak.

“The point of the cloak is so you aren’t recognized.” She said around another bite. Blue smiled sadly.

‘If only that were true…’ Blue thought to herself looking over her squawking sister to Yellow, riding on her other side.

As if sensing her thoughts Yellow looked up from Pink and they shared a knowing look. Their status’ granted them more freedoms than most, yet at the same time those status’ bound them in other ways.

To dutifully follow orders that dictated the slaying of men and women alike.

To sit through the rambling of oblivious suitors from noble families and pick up all the duties being neglected by their monarch as she focussed on the rebellion.

Bound to always being on guard, bound to dark corners of the library where no one would see the way they held hands or sat much to close as they spoke in hushed tones and grinned stupidly at each other.

Pink would learn someday.

“You chose to be a knight, Yellow.” Pink argued.

“No” Yellow said after swallowing the food in her mouth. “I chose to be a soldier for the empire. The queen made me a knight.” She corrected. “And I only chose to fight to escape the merchant class.” Yellow crunched on the apple.

Blue could see the aggravation building with this line of conversation. Yellow’s father had not been a successful merchant, and had died penniless, leaving his only daughter with nothing at a very young age.

“Pink…” Blue started only for the girl to plow ahead.

“What’s wrong with being a merchant? You can’t say you’d rather be a princess, it’s so boring. I think it would be fascinating to be a merchant.” She smiled.

“I think it would have been fascinating to not go hungry more days than not!” Yellow suddenly barked, turning a glare onto Pink, who shrank inside her hood at the look. Blue glanced between them worriedly.

As the flash of anger cooled as quickly as it had come Yellow realized her mistake. Rosaline was a girl who had never truly known anything but the inside of the palace. She sighed, letting the snarl fall from her face, leaving her feeling tired.

“I apologize for that.” She started, looking for the right way to say this. “You don’t understand the kind of hardships your birth right has shielded you from Rosaline.” Yellow explained, leveling a serious but patient gaze on the youngest princess, who frowned. “My family was destitute. I chose to be a soldier not because I wanted to but because the only other choice available to me was starvation.”

“Oh…” Pink mumbled.

“That being said, for all the things I’ve had to do in the empire's name, I don’t regret that choice.” She glanced at Blue, watching them.

The rest of the ride into town was more subdued till they arrived and new life was breathed into Pink by the hustle and bustle of the towns people. They left their horses at the guardhouse where Yellow commanded one of her men to keep an eye on them.

“Come, Pink. I need to see the apothecary.” Blue reminded and started down the cobblestoned streets toward the shop in question. Pink sighed, looking longingly at all the merchant stalls in the opposite direction.

“After” Yellow said, following Blue. Pink hurried along behind them.

Yellow wrinkled her nose when they stepped into the shop, the strong smell of herbs and salvs was overwhelming the moment they stepped through the door.

“Welcome!” The small, frail elderly shop owner called out to them when they entered.

Blue was quick to disappear among the many shelves of medicines.

“It smells in here…” Pink grimaced, looking around at the dark shop. Yellow grunted in agreement as they followed behind the elder princess.

Pink eyed the many things for sale curiously. Rows of dark glass bottles with indiscernible contents lined one entire wall from floor to ceiling. On another were bundles of dried plants of all different kinds.

Blue sifted through the plants carefully for the herbs she was looking for. Throwing the things she wanted into the sack she’d brought. A bundle of Yarrow, rosemary and mint all went into the bag.

Pink watched her curiously.

“What is all this even for?” She questioned.

“These…” She held up the sac. “When you add some wine and grind them into a paste are used for helping heal wounds and fight off infections.” She explained.

“You’ve never been wounded, Blue.” Pink pointed out.

“No, but I know some who frequently are.” Her eyes darted up to Yellow, who crossed her arms and huffed to herself.

Pink caught the look and giggled at the pouting knight captain.

"Are we done here?" Yellow groused.

"Nearly…" Blue nodded walking back up to the front with her things. She set the sac down in front of the elderly shopkeep.

"Is that all you need?" She asked.

"Do you have anything that helps with...shifting moods??" She asked quietly. Yellow glanced at her, brows furrowing between her eyes.

"Moods?" The old woman repeated. "Hmm..no, I’m afraid I don’t.” She shook her head. Blue frowned.

“Than this will be all.” She nodded, pulling the small leather bag from beneath her cloak and handing over a handful of silver coins with her mother’s face minted on one side.

“We can go now.” She turned to her companions.

“Finally…” Pink wasted no time leaving the dim foul smelling shop, but Yellow lingered, casting Blue a concerned look from beneath the hood of her cloak.

“Later…” She promised, laying a hand on the knights arm as she passed. That did not make Yellow feel better.

Pink was running ahead of them, toward the market.

“Come on!” Pink whipped around, cloak flapping about her form as she waved them on.

Blue couldn’t help but grin at her as they followed at a more relaxed place.

She jumped when she felt a hand take hold of her own. She looked up at Yellow, eyes wide. Before looking back at Pink who was paying them no mind as she bounced between the different stalls set up along the street.

“Are you alright?” The concern in those amber eyes made her breath hitch. She squeezed the hand in hers with a smile.

“I’m fine, I promise. We’ll talk about it later.” She gave a final squeeze before gently tugging free of the knights grip and following behind Pink.

“Look at these.” The younger princess pointed at a table of glittering, uncut gems, polished to a high shine and reflecting light in all directions.

“Finest gemstones in all of Drysor!” the man claimed, sweeping a hand over his wares. Yellow rolled her eyes before wandering over to another table selling an assortment of leather goods.

“They are beautiful.” Blue conceded. The uncut stones had a primal charm to them, rough but charming in their own way.

Losing interest in the stones Pink moved to the table where Yellow was inspecting daggers.

“Oh..” Pink picked up an elegant stiletto dagger with an intricate twisted handle and a small pink gem imbedded into the cross guard. “Yellow…?” Pink looked up at the knight who was testing the weight of a boot dagger.

"Hmm?" She glanced at the princess out of the corner of her eye.

"If I bought this dagger would you teach me how to use it?" She asked.

Yellow almost dropped the knife she was holding as she turned fully to face the princess, eyebrows disappearing into her hairline beneath the cloaks hood.

"What?' she asked unsure if she’d heard that correctly.

"I've just been thinking…" She started looking down at herself in the reflection of the blade. "With all the things that have been going on with the rebellion, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea if I learned how to protect myself." She looked up at Yellow.

The knight pursed her lips and she thought about the request. There were plenty of nobles who would say a princess didn't need to know how to use a dagger. Yellow however, was of the mind that everyone should know how to protect themselves.

She glanced up at Blue who was looking at her just as expectantly as Pink.

“If that’s what you want…” She started and Pinks face started to bloom into a grin but Yellow quickly held up a finger. “On the condition… that you tell no one.”

“Keep it a secret, why?” She tilted her head.

“I have my reasons princess…” Yellow said crossing her arms over her chest. “So?”

“A secret.” Pink grinned, giving a nod.

“How much for the dagger?” Yellow called over to the merchant. A large bearded man.

“20 ore.” he said.

Pink immediately reached for the pouch of coins at her belt but Yellow stopped her by taking the dagger and inspecting it.

“We’ll give you 12.” Yellow offered.

“12?! No, never!”

“Very well.” She laid the dagger back on the table and began to walk away. Pink started to protest but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She looked up at Blue who was smiling knowingly.

Yellow didn’t get more than a few staeps away from the stall before…

“Wait!” The man called. Yellow glanced at him over her shoulder. “15 and it’s yours.” He offered. She turned to Pink and jerked her head at the man. She quickly paid him the agreed upon sum and took her new dagger with a wide grin. Blue chuckled to herself.

“How did you know he would offer it for less. Yellow?” Pink asked as they walked away from the stalls and she slid the sheathed dagger into the belt holding her dress cinched at the waist.

“I was born and raised in this place.” Yellow reminded. “The price they tell you is vastly inflated over what they’ll actually take. Only a fool pays the first price they demand.”

Pink flushed.

“You should have gotten one, Blue.” She turned to her sister, who laughed behind her hand.

“Who said I don’t already?” A single sculpted brow rose in question. Pink starred up wide eyed.

As they exited the sidestreet of stalls a loud, raucous crowd had gathered in the center of town.

“What’s going on?” Pink looked around at all the jeering townspeople huddled together.

Blue and Yellow exchanged glances.

“Pink…” Blue started to reach for her but a moment to late as she moved forward, toward the center of the commotion. The two older women followed as she pushed her way through the crowd to the front.

When they reached the front they could see what was going on.

Standing in the squares center were three men, looking worse for wear, chained and bound together. Several castle guards stood at the ready on either side of them while a man in noble garb held up a parchment and called for quiet among the rowdy townspeople.

“Oh no…” Blue mumbled and Yellow could only agree.

“What is it?” Pink asked looking up at them before turning back to whatever was going on.

“Those are the Aarde rebel band leaders I captured.” Yellow leaned in and whispered to Blue who pursed her lips together tightly.

“These men have been found guilty of treason against the empire!” The crowd began to holler and yell again before being quieted. “It is by the order of her royal majesty that they be put to death by stoning!” He declared to the cheers of the crowd. He turned to the men. “If you have any last words, speak them now or may they forever be lost.”

“Long live Aarde!” the youngest of the three jumped up only for the first stone to come flying out of the crowd, smacking him in the forehead and knocking him to his knees.

With that the dam was broken as large rocks flew through the air, smacking the men from every angle. They huddled together and covered their heads with their arms as they were beaten from all sides.

The sounds of stone hitting flesh made Blue flinch, her hand covered her mouth.

Pink watched in horror as a boy younger than her lobbed a stone at one of the huddled men, it struck one of them in the head and blood gushed from his ear as he curled into the fetal position, crying out as he was struck again and again. Stone breaking skin.

She jerked when a hand grabbed her shoulder. She looked up, wide eyed at Yellow’s grave face.

“We need to go.” Was all the knight said.

Pink could only nod numbly as Yellow pulled her and Blue through the crowd back to the guard house, though it wasn’t quick enough to miss the way all three men were now bloodied messes on the ground and the stones kept coming.

The entire ride back to the palace Pink didn’t say a word.

Blue watched her worriedly and Yellow just sighed to herself.

They were supposed to be interrogating the band leaders. Had they gotten everything they could out of them already?

She would get her answers when they returned to the palace.

And she would.

Walking back through the receiving hall did the trio come upon the queen leaving the throne room as court came to a close.

“Mother!” Pink spoke for the first time since they had left town.

Winea Diamond looked up as her youngest came running up to her and wrapped her arms around her, burying her face into her chest. Blue stopped next to them and Yellow stood a few feet away, back straight and hands clasped behind her back.

“Whatever is the matter my dear?” The queen ran her fingers through the girls soft curly hair.

‘We went into town and they were executing the rebel band leaders.” Blue answered for her upset sister. “It was… disquieting…” She admitted.

“Oh? Is that what you’re upset about?” She looked down at Pink who was looking back up at her with glassy eyes and nodded. “There’s no reason to be upset about that my dear.” She soothed, pushing Pink back just enough to look into her face. Pink started to smile.

“It’s what they deserved.”

Pinks smile dropped and Yellows jaw clenched while Blue fisted her hands into her skirts.

“They were rebellious traitors. They and their little rebellion are disrupting the peace and prosperity of our empire.” She explained to the girl as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “The rest will get much of the same.” She promised with a bright smile.

“B-but…”The girl stuttered.

“Now, no more of this crying.” She wiped at Pinks cheeks with thin wrinkled hands. “It is quite unseemly for someone of your status.” She tutted and pulled herself away from Pink and as she had done so often as of late seemed to forget they were even having a conversation as she just wandered away down the hall, leaving both her children and the knight captain in her wake.

Pink watched her mother go as tears continued to drip down her cheeks, once the queen was gone she choked on a sob. Blue moved to hold her but without a word Pink took off toward the stairs, sobbing.

Blue looked desperately to Yellow who nodded her head toward the stairs.

“Go, take care of her, I’ll wait for you in my quarters.” She said quietly. Blue nodded before hurrying off.

It was several hours later when Blue finally appeared, looking tired and drawn as she silently closed and latched the door behind her. Yellow watched her from her bed.

Blue crawled onto the bed next to her and laid her head on the knights chest. Yellow laid her hands across her back.

“Is she alright?” Yellow finally broke the silence.

“For now…” She sighed. “She was upset about the execution but…I can’t keep it from her anymore.” Blue squeezed her eyes shut, fisting her hand into Yellow’s tunic as the knight waited patiently for her love to speak.

“Something is wrong with our mother…” She said at last, voice barely above a whisper. Yellow tightened her grip on Blue.

“I’ve had my suspicions…” She mumbled. “Our orders have gotten more brutal and conflicting everyday.One day we have orders to secure a town and the next we’re ordered to burn it down...”

“When you speak to her it’s as though she’s looking through you, like she can’t even see you.”

Yellow could feel droplets of water on her skin.

I don’t know what to do, Yellow…” Blue admitted. The knight buried her face into the princess’ hair and held her tightly.

“It will be alright, my love.” She soothed, running her fingers through the long silvery strands while she cried.

“How? How will it be alright?” Blue choked, looking up at her, searching desperately for an answer in her amber eyes.

“I don’t know yet…” Yellow admitted, running a thumb over Blue’s cheek, wiping away the tears there. “But I will do whatever you need me to.” She promised.

Blue closed her eyes and leaned into the gentle touch.

“I know you will....” She mumbled, taking hold of Yellow’s hand and pressing a kiss to rough, scarred knuckles. “I’d be lost without you…”

“Hardly…” Yellow scoffed making Blue’s lips twitch upward as she laid her head back on her chest, resting beneath the knights chin, where they stayed till the morning light.

#bellow diamond #yellow diamond #Blue diamond #pink diamond #White diamond #fanfic #steven universe #knightAU #fantasy

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malereaderinsert · 5 years

Text

Second Chance - Part One

Fandom: DC - Aquaman

Pairing: Orm Marius x Male Atlantean Reader

Warnings: Discrimination and that’s it.

Word Count: 2.700

Request: Heey, can I make a request? I saw your post about Orm from Aquaman and I had this idea where the male reader is the royal consort instead of Mera. You are free to do whatever you want with that! Thxx :)

Note: My fingers slipped and this happened. Is up to you guys if I should continue with this story or not, so let me know!!

Orm was obsessing over his brother, again. He had always blamed the man for what happened to his mother and he being a half-breed only made the matters worse. Orm's father had raised his son to hate the surface world as much as it's inhabitants. (Y/n) didn't altogether agree with his king's beliefs.

Yes they were savages who only killed and raged war upon each other, polluted their planet and murdered the childrens of the ocean for sport, but Queen Atlanna had seen good in them and (y/n) had to agree with her, they weren't entirely evil as the Atlanteans weren't entirely good either.

(Y/n) had seen it with his own eyes what the humans are capable off. He walked through the surface world. The atlantean saw injustice, discrimination, oppression and many unspeakable things, but the more he observed the more he saw his own world reflected before him.

The world of men had good traits too. Whenever (y/n) least expected he would be treated with kindness and everlasting compassion, things that he found lacking in Atlantis.

The world of men was only misguided, if only (y/n) could make Orm see that, the imminent blood shed would be prevented. But his future husband was as stubborn as his father before him. And his mind was set on war.

That is why (y/n) offered to help his little sister, Mera. That girl was set to stop her king's crazy plan and nothing would stop her. (y/n) knew it was foolish to try convince her otherwise so he was left with no choice but to help, only if he had known what her plan was.

She went after the half-breed to convince him of his birth right as king of Atlantis.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind Mera!?” (Y/n) had traveled with his sister to the surface so they could talk without the fear of being watched. “I agreed to whatever you were doing to keep you out of harm's way, but this has gone to far.” The (y/h/c) haired man was trembling with barely concealed anger.

“What was I supposed to do? Orm won't listen to reason (y/n), not even YOU could make him change his mind.” The waves crashing upon the rocky sides of the cliff were almost enough to swallow her last words, but (y/n) still heard them and they cut deep.

“He is my future husband, my king. What you're doing is high treason Mera. I'm trying to keep you safe, but I won't be dragged into this mess.”

“So now you'll act like a loyal puppy? For your “king”?” The bitter tone in his sister's voice caught the man him off guard.

“What are you talking about? Yes, OUR king.” (y/n) made a point to emphasize the word.

“He's not my king, not since he chose you to rule at his side and not me.” The girl was barely able to hold her tears at bay. “You remember, right? When I would spend day and night telling you about how much I dreamed to become queen of Atlantis just to have you take my place in the end.”

(Y/n) couldn't believe what he was hearing. Mera was jealous of him for taking her place as royal consort. The atlantean thought his sister's obsession with becoming queen was just a child's fantasy.

Orm didn't chose Mera because the king was already falling for her older brother. And (y/n) being the most skillful warrior in all Atlantis just came as a plus. But his sister wouldn't want to just dethrone Orm for petty jealousy… would her? Then the real reason came to (y/n) like a lightning bolt.

“You want the half-breed to reclaim his birthright just so you can be his queen?” (y/n) saw the way his sister looked down in shame, confirming his suspicion. “You would betray everything, your people, our father and me just so you could have a crown over your head?!” Just thinking about made (y/n) churn, the ideia that his sister could be so naive and irresponsible.

“It's not just the crown. It's the power that comes with it. I could finally be what I was always meant to be.” Mera said those words with a conviction of a mad woman, hungry for power and influence.

“Saving the people of the surface world was never your priority was it? How could I be so blind. I never wanted to take your place Mera. Me and Orm fell in love with each other, that is why I accepted. You know I never wanted this responsibility.” It pained (y/n) to say the next words but he knew with who his heart and loyalty belonged to, and it wasn't to some half-breed he never met. “I thought your heart and mind were in the right place, but I was wrong. If you continue with your crazy plan I won't support you at all. You'll be on your own. And tell your friend that if he ever try to harm my king in anyway, blood will be spilled. And you know I always win. Always.”

With that (y/n) looked at his sister one last time before jumping into the ocean and making his way back to Atlantis.

That same night (y/n) found his king in their shared royal bedroom, pacing, swimming in circles to be more precise. The man had his armor off, with just a purple almost transparent robe covering his body and his blond hair was lose, floating around his head. A sight that only his Royal consort was allowed to see, a fact that (y/n) was rather proud of.

When Orm heard someone at the door he turned around briskly as if expecting a threat. His worry lines softened and a half smile puled at his lips at the sight of his soon to be king.

“(Y/n), my dearest, where were you? I've been worrying sick.” The blond was at his lover's side in a second, giving him a soft kiss in the temple that (y/n) gladly accepted and returned.

“Don't treat me like a damsel in distress my king, we both know I'm very capable of protecting myself.” Orm knew how a ruthless warrior (y/n) could be, the best in all Atlantis, but the blonde still worried. Those were troubled times and the enemy could be lurking anywhere.

“I know you can protect yourself dear, but I can shake the feeling that something bad will happen.” The worry lines were back and the man's expression became haunted. “I feel lost, like I'm drifting through the open sea, without a direction. Except when I'm with you.” The half smile was back but it was somewhat dulled by the heavy subject. “I don't know what I would do if I lost you.”

“You won't. You're stuck with me, for better or worse.” (y/n) knew better than make a promise he had no control over, but he could at least lessen a few worries that plagued the king's heart. “And in a few weeks we will be tied together by Poseidon's blessing. So you better start getting used to the idea of having to look at this beautiful face for all eternity.” That last statement definitely drew a laugh from his king, and (y/n) was glad to ease the tension Orm was under even if a little bit.

“Only you to make me laugh at a time like this.” The king finally gave a real smile, with white teeth, dimples and blue eyes full of admiration. (Y/n) couldn't look at those ocean blue eyes for long without blushing like a teenager, so he turned away at the pretence of removing his armor. “Where were you anyway. It's unlike you to arrive so late.” The king asked while helping (y/n) remove the more complicated pieces of armor.

“I was just taking a walk above sea. I missed the stars.” Technically that wasn't a lie. (Y/n) did miss the sight of the night sky, sparkling with celestial life. Below sea was beautiful, it was his home after all, but the surface had it's own beauties to. He wanted to show all of them to Orm, but he never dared to ask the blonde to go with him. And he definitely wouldn't tell his king the real reason for his late night walk.

(Y/n) could feel the hand in his shoulder freeze, then the hold became a little tighter and suddenly it was gone. Orm had turned his back, his eyes were focused on his city that could be seen through the enormous window in the far side wall.

“We already had this conversation (y/n). I don't like when you go up there. That filthy place it's not worthy of your time or your presence.” The blonde's gaze didn't move from the window so the man behind him couldn't see his face.

“Our last conversation about this subject ended with you storming off and don't speaking with me for three days.” (y/n) left the last piece of his armor float to the floor before swimming towards his king and stopping in front of him, blocking the image of the city.

“Your infatuation with that place is insane.” The man's voice raised while he tried to control his irritation at the topic.

“Insane is your hatred towards an entire race just because of ONE man.” (y/n)'s voice raised to match Orm's, that was growing increasingly upset by the second, but the (y/h/c) haired man didn't stop, he couldn't. “Your brother didn't have anything to do with your mother's death, her choices were her own and if she was here today I'm sure she would agree with me. Atlanna's only dream was to prove to our people that we can coexist with the surface world. Which is exactly the opposite of what you're trying to do. Your mother…”

“My mother is dead!” The scream caught (y/n) by surprise, shocking him to silence. Eyes wide and red. Lips trembling and bared teeth. The king was crying, but the ocean was carrying away his tears.

“Yes she's dead.” (y/n) cupped the king's face with his hands while looking directly into those ocean blue eyes. “And you had to grow up with a man that only knew hatred. You were misguided, my love. War isn't always the answer. They'll only reply with more war and then the vicious cycle will never end. And if it ends someday, the winner would only be left standing in a pile of ashes.” At some point (y/n) had started crying to. It pained him to see Orm that way, helpless.

“What can I do? It's in their blood. They will never change.” The future king could see an opportunity to show Orm that not all men were savages. He needed to show the king how humans really lived, above sea level.

“Then let me show you what I see. Let me prove to you that they deserve a chance. And if I'm not successful in changing your mind, i'll support you and your war.” (y/n) didn't dare look away from his lover's gaze. If he had any chance to stop this conflict and the rise of a new half-breed king, he needed Orm to see reason, it was the only way.

But whatever his king decided to do, (y/n) would never live his side.

“Alright my dearest, I'll give this a chance. You're the only one I trust.” (y/n) sagged with relief as he hugged his king, the man he loved.

“You won't regret this, I promise.” Orm buried his face in the crook of his soon to be king and practically melted when (y/n) begun running his fingers through his hair, in the same way his mother used to do. They stayed like this for a few minutes untill the blonde broke the silence.

“You look like her. My mother I mean.” Orm's whispered from where his face was still hidden in his lover's neck.

“How so?” (y/n) replied quietly, fingers never stoping their ministrations on the strands of blonde hair.

“You're fierce. I mean, you know hundreds of ways to kill a man. You probably could take down an army armed only with your Trident.” (y/n) could only listen to his king, trying to understand from where all of that was coming from. “But you have a heart. You can still be compassionate and benevolent, like her. She always saw the best in people, even when no one treated her with kindness.”

“I remember. She used to say that our people grew cold hearted from the lack of sunlight. And I agreed with her, and still do.” (y/n) gently cupped Orm's cheek, causing the man to look him in the eye. “Let me show you what your mother and I believe in. There's so much beautie up there. The sun, the sky and my favorite, the stars. And so much more. I've never seen so much kindness in one place. Our people can learn from them as much as they can learn from us.” (Y/n) had such an excited expression that Orm couldn't help but mirror it. “You won't have to do anything, I'll make the preparations, but don't worry we'll take it slow, it can be pretty distressing on your first time.” The king had a devilish smile when his lover finished talking.

“Are we still talking about going to the surface right? Or are you getting second intentions, dear?” (y/n)'s only answer for a while was furrowed brows and a look of confusion, and then his eyes lit up and his entire face turned red, making the king even more amused.

“I-I didn't mean to make it sound like that. It's not that I wouldn't be happy to do THAT with you, it's just… we-we should wait untill after the blessing, n-not that… Oh Poseidon help me.” (Y/n) finally got a hold of himself and stopped talking, but he couldn't look into Orm's eyes so he focused on a very interesting bubble by his feet.

His face was burning from embarrassment, if only his father could see him now. The most ruthless warrior in all Atlantis, blushing at the prospect of making love with his king.

“My dear look at me.” The king said while guiding the man's face with a finger under his chin, ever so gentle. (Y/n) couldn't do anything but obey, he let their eyes meet and those ocean blue orbs were shining with such intense adoration that almost brought (Y/n) to tears, again. “I was just teasing. We'll have a lot of time to get to know each other after the blessing, I'm sure. There's nothing I would want more.”

(Y/n) released a water he didn't know he was holding. He wasn't afraid that his king wouldn't feel that way towards him, if Orm never wanted to have sex so be it, but it was good to feel desired. And something in the king's eyes told him he would prove his point very soon.

(Y/n) cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the last bit of embarrassment before speaking. “So if that's settled, I'll talk with Vulko tomorrow about everything we will need for the journey. I think it's best if the whole thing remains a secret, no need to cause unnecessary speculations among the people.”

“Yes, of course. I trust you to get it done, but for now I think we should get some sleep. You look ready to pass out my dear.” Orm gently guided (y/n) towards the bed while the man mumbled about the things he needed to show his King when they got to the surface.

Once (y/n) was laid in bed and almost sleeping the king joined him. Orm hugged his soon to be king close to his chest, giving him a lingering kiss in the nape of the neck. (Y/n) was the only person he trusted in this world, and if he believed the surface dwellers could be redeemed than Orm would give him a chance to prove it.

If they were truly the scum of this world, like his father told him about then they would be destroyed once and for all, and his brother with them.

#orm marius #orm #dc comics #dc #male reader #x male reader #malereader #male!reader #reader #fan fiction #fic #imagine #orm marius x male reader #orm x male reader #orm x reader #aquaman #arthur curry #mera

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askweisswolf · 5 years

Text

@glimadora-week posting late, but this one is for Day 2: Cliche Tropes. Originally started out as “sharing one bed” and instead ended up being “caught in the rain”. Eh.

I apologize that these are so late, linking these into one chapter story is taking more than I expected. FF.net here and AO3 here.

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Bright Moon hadn’t hosted a celebration of this size in a long time. Glimmer couldn’t even remember such a celebration being hosted before, probably because before now, well… there hadn’t been much to celebrate. The Rebellion hadn’t been beaten, and had continued to fight on even after Micah’s death, but by the same token they hadn’t really won after that, either. Their fight with the Horde had simply become about surviving.

But today, they had fought against the Horde and they had won. Today, for the first time in years, the Rebellion wasn’t only about surviving. Today, for the first time in years, it actually looked like they had a chance of winning. So of course, there was a celebration. Of course, a lot of people showed up for that celebration, particularly when several princesses had been involved in the battle.

And of course, the celebration had gone on for the rest of the day and quite late into the night. Bright Moon might not have hosted a celebration so large in a long time, but it had once upon a time, and so it was lucky enough to be built with just enough room to house people when they decided to sleep over for the night after a large celebration.

Unfortunately, the last celebration in Bright Moon had happened before Glimmer’s life time. So while it was built to host a large celebration, it hadn’t been expanded on since then.

And that was how Glimmer was informed that Adora had graciously offered her room for additional bedding when it came up that there would be a shortage of beds. About halfway through the explanation of how this had happened and an apology, the princess held up a hand to silence the staff member. “You spoke to Adora?” she asked.

The young man blinked. Of all of the reactions he’d expected, he… hadn’t been expecting that. “Yes,” he said uncertainly.

“How long ago did you speak with Adora?”

“Ah… a little while ago?” He wasn’t entirely sure where these questions were going, but Glimmer had a particularly intense gleam in her eyes. “I’m afraid I’m not sure how long ago it was. I apologize.”

Glimmer sighed and rubbed her eyes. “It’s okay, at least you saw her. Everyone else I’ve asked hasn’t been able to find her since Sea Hawk burst into my room to drag me out to the party.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. After a moment, Glimmer glanced back at him. “You wouldn’t have happened to see where she went at least?” It was almost painfully hopeful. “I can work with a direction. Any general direction, really.”

“… I think she went outside?” he tried. “She mentioned going to check on Swift Wind, maybe.”

“The stables! Perfect! I mean, Swift Wind hates our stables, but he likes to be there for the other horses, so… it’s a place! And I know Adora might be there! Thank you very much!”

He opened his mouth to reply—he was pretty sure he intended to say he was only doing his job and there was no need to thank him, though he did appreciate the politeness Queen Angella had managed to pass down to her daughter—but then he discovered that Glimmer was already gone, simply leaving a small cloud of pink sparkles in her wake.

He blinked a few times, then sighed and went on with his duties for the evening. Princesses were weird.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The weather outside of Bright Moon didn’t match the calming atmosphere inside the palace. As everyone inside was beginning to settle down for the night and sleep, a storm had broken out. There was no thunder and no lightning, so it wouldn’t keep everyone up during the night, but it would still be a pain to be outside in the cold and the wet. It was times like these that Glimmer was grateful for her powers, and she certainly wasn’t above abusing them to try and keep herself as dry as possible between the palace and the stables.

Hey, if she had the powers, she was going to use them. They might not have always been effective in combat, but they certainly had their moments. And at this point, she still didn’t know yet how her talk with Adora would pan out; it would be a small mercy to at least have it without being completely soaked, on top of potentially having her heart broken.

It was her own fault. She was hoping. She shouldn’t have been hoping, after the way Adora had run off, but the hope was there nonetheless. And when she hoped, the letdown always hurt worse than not hoping. But apparently her heart was horrible at listening to her head—a common and recurring problem with her, as much as she hated to admit that her mother was right in that particular regard—and she’d been nursing a minor crush on her taller friend since bringing her to the Rebellion.

A crush that, if she was being totally honest with herself, had been growing from minor to major for some time. A crush that she had largely kept to herself (venting to Bow didn’t count!) because she had eyes and she could see that whatever Adora had had in the past in the Horde with the Force Captain named Catra was now all complicated and messy. A crush that she had mostly kept quiet about (venting to Bow still didn’t count!) because Adora had been under a constant amount of stress and pressure, and she hadn’t wanted to add to it by bringing up feelings.

She’d just been trying to be a good friend. Because that was what Adora really needed, more than anything else—a good friend.

Only now they’d kissed and it’d barely been anything, really, but Glimmer was realizing now that her crush was like, super major and before she could say or do anything about it, Adora had managed to slip away and disappear. It shouldn’t have been possible with how tall she was, but somehow she’d managed it. Even going to the stable was just on the vague confirmation of a member of the castle staff, and when Glimmer finally blinked into existence inside the barn she fully expected to be met with nothing but baffled and mildly spooked horses.

What she was actually met with was a startled yelp from Adora, who jumped back from the space Glimmer suddenly occupied, tripped over her own feet in the process, and crumbled into an undignified heap into a pile of fresh hay.

Glimmer didn’t laugh. She didn’t look down at the crumbled form of her friend and snicker after an emotionally charged moment. Nope. She was the perfect picture of composure.

“You know,” Adora groaned, “it’s not nice to laugh at someone after startling them.”

Okay, maybe she laughed a little. She swallowed to compose herself and crossed her arms over her chest, lightly tapping her foot on the ground as she looked down at her taller friend. “It’s not nice to run away after kissing someone too, you know.”

It was a gentle jab, at most. Despite the uncomfortable coiling in her chest, Glimmer wasn’t actually mad; what little Adora had said about the Horde indicated that they didn’t generally do emotions, and what emotions they did allow didn’t seem to be the healthy kind of emotions. That she’d reacted this way was… well, expected, she supposed. She didn’t think the Horde actively encouraged any kind of romance. It must not have been gentle enough, since blue-gray eyes rapidly shifted between Glimmer and the stable door as Adora measured the distance she’d need to cover to get away.

Glimmer sighed and offered her hand, after a moment. “Don’t bother,” she said. “It’s pouring outside. You’d just get soaked and sick.”

“I’ve never been sick before, actually.” Adora took her hand though. Glimmer would like to say she pulled her up, but considering the natural height difference between them it was more like she gave a small tug and the blonde boosted herself up onto her feet the rest of the way.

“Bow tells me it’s unpleasant.” She let go of the blonde’s hand, and tried to tell herself that she imagined the brief flash of disappointment in her eyes. “I’m sorry, I was just having some fun. I’m not mad, Adora.”

There was a moment of silence between them, broken only by the sound of the rain outside; Glimmer could have sworn it was her imagination, but it sounded like it was coming down harder than before. Finally Adora shrugged and seemed to shrink into herself, shoving her hands behind her back. “Maybe you should be,” she murmured.

Glimmer blinked. “Why?”

“I-I mean—Glimmer, I kissed you.”

“Yeah, and I kissed you back.”

“Well, you—you did, but… wasn’t that your first kiss?”

Glimmer sputtered, cursing herself as she felt her face heat up. “H-How did you know about that?! I mean… how do you even know about first kisses being important? Do they cover it as Force Captain orientation or something?”

Adora had the decency to look sheepish. “Your castle has a huge library, and I had some free time.”

Okay so, apparently the former Horde soldier and current host of She-ra had a bit of a romantic streak. That was stupidly endearing.

Glimmer gave up the fight for composure and sighed, plopping down onto the hay and pulling her knees up to her chest as she peered out of the barn to the downpour outside. “If it helps, technically that wasn’t my first kiss.”

Adora sat down next to her tentatively. “It wasn’t?”

“Bow and I kissed when… gosh, I think we were like twelve? We were talking about it, and we wanted to see what the big deal was.” She shrugged, her eyes following the trail of rain drops. “It didn’t seem like such a big deal after we tried it.”

There was a swallow next to her; she heard her friend shift, and after a moment she felt warmth and softness pressing against her side. “And now?”

She didn’t look away from the rain. “Now I can see why it’s a big deal. I guess it depends on how much you like the person you kiss, and...” She trailed off, sighed. “I like you a lot, Adora.”

“… Are you sure about that?” It was so soft that Glimmer would have sworn she’d imagined it, if she wasn’t listening.

“… Yeah.” She rested her hands down next to her, sneaking a glance at the taller blonde. “You don’t—have to feel obligated to like me back or anything, though. I know everything’s really complicated for you right now.”

That got a quiet laugh from the other girl. “Everything’s been really complicated for me for awhile, Glimmer. You and Bow have been like, my only constants since this started.”

“I know.”

“And I know I haven’t talked about it with… anyone, really, and maybe I need to start working on that, but the Horde never like… encouraged emotions. Catra and I were sort of an odd case.”

“You don’t talk about her.”

“I don’t know how to. She’s...” Adora trailed off into silence, then sighed and dropped her forehead to her knees. “Complicated. A lot of things are complicated with me. You probably shouldn’t like me so much.”

Glimmer shrugged. “Probably. I still like you a lot regardless. You’re really sweet, and you’re stupidly noble, and you’re utterly gorgeous as either yourself or She-ra.” She made a show of tapping her finger to her lips. “Yup, I still like you a lot. I think I was doomed from the moment we met, really.”

That got another laugh out of Adora, surprised and amused. “You couldn’t stand me when we first met.”

“Clearly I changed my mind.”

“Clearly.” Adora shifted to get more comfortable on the hay, and after a moment she lowered her hands. Glimmer felt the tentative brush of Adora’s fingers against hers, and then their fingers laced together and she felt a gentle squeeze.

She tried to ignore the way that simple contact made her heart flutter. Tried, and failed miserably.

“For what it’s worth,” the blonde said finally, “I like you a lot too, Glimmer. And that was actually my first kiss.”

And they probably still needed to talk about that, sometime soon. Because to call the whole thing complicated was an understatement; Glimmer was the princess of Bright Moon, and good will or no Adora was still a former Horde soldier and the host of She-ra. There Adora’s whole past with the Horde, and her relationship with Catra. There was still a lot that needed to be settled between the two of them from here.

But for the moment, that could all be settled in the future. Glimmer was perfectly content to wait, particularly when Adora shifted and rested her head against her shoulder, closing her eyes with a small, content sigh.

And maybe she hadn’t been planning to spend her night out in the barn, caught in the rain, but Glimmer realized then that she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

#glimadora week #glimadora #Glimmer #Adora #my writing

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askwonderlandsprincess · 3 years

Text

Task 3: Where Does it End?

Ardenzana of Wonderland, Queen of Hearts, was rarely flabbergasted. But as she looked down at the White Rabbit, one eyebrow arched perfectly upwards, her lower lip trembled.

And Rhombus of Wonderland, King of Hearts, her husband, knew. She was stunned silent. And that rarely happened (she hadn’t even been silent when he proposed, not letting him finish a carefully prepared speech before peppering him with kisses). In fact, he could only think of two other times: when their throne had been taken from them by the Woman, and when they learned they were to be restored.

“Rabbit,” he interjected, “Are you quite certain this is true?”

Gravely, the Rabbit nodded, “Yes, Your Royal Majesties. The Misthavian ambassador is waiting in the throne room to tell you more himself-”

“The sanitized version, you mean,” Rhombus supplied, and the Rabbit had the grace the look away, “What do your relatives say?” The White Rabbit had a vast and extensive family, and given the powers of rabbit holes, many of them frequently traveled the various realms. Wonderland itself didn’t employ a spy network outside the queendom (only the House of Spades served as a spy network within), but if the Rabbit’s family heard things in other realms, it was typically passed back to the royals.

The White Rabbit’s eyes dropped the floor and he murmured, “There are rumors of necromancy, Majesties. Raising the dead, to imprison them for eternal torture. We’ve no confirmation, obviously, but...”

“The implications are troubling,” Rhombus noted. He extended a hand to Ardenzana, who (still silent) had made her way to her jewelry box. Slowly, she slipped off more casual rings for more formal jewelry- not only her wedding ring, but her signet ring. She draped ropes of rubies around her neck, settling her largest crown atop her head.

When she unsheathed her dagger, he realized she was preparing for war.

The royal couple entered the throne room full of smiles and delight, the Rabbit acting in his position as herald:

“Her Imperial Highness, Her Excellency, Her Grace, Her Royal Majesty, Ardenzana of Wonderland, Queen of Hearts! His Imperial Highness, His Excellency, His Grace, His Royal Majesty, Rhombus of Wonderland, King of Hearts!” It was still strange to Rhombus to hear his old title, Lord of Diamonds, omitted. While his family was still acknowledged as one of the four greatest in the land- and he still technically possessed the title of his birth -it was rarely said aloud. It was bittersweet.

Still, it wasn’t the House of Diamonds the Ambassador had come to see, but the House of Hearts. The Vorpal Sword glittering above their thrones- serving as ancient confirmation that the House of Hearts was meant to rule, in Wonderlandian tradition -the Queen took her place and sat, the King following barely a second after.

“Ambassador,” Ardenzana smiled, lipstick red as blood. She offered one hand for him to kiss, holding her unsheathed dagger in the other for him to kiss.

“Your Royal Majesties,” the Ambassador simpered, approaching the dais and bowing thrice. Personally, he found the queendom’s traditions ostentatious, but the king had told him in no uncertain terms to follow them. While Wonderland was famously isolationist- particularly after the incident with the person the Royal couple referred to as “The Woman,” but the other realms knew as Cora, Miller’s Daughter, and mother of the Evil Queen -the king hoped to utilize the power of its Rabbit Holes in expansion of what he dreamed would be an empire safe from the clutches of evil. Consequently, Wonderland’s traditions should be appeased, and so the Ambassador sucked up his pride and kissed the queen’s hand, swallowing tightly as he spotted the golden dagger. Then he kissed the king’s hand before stepping backwards.

“Welcome to Wonderland,” Ardenzana greeted, “It’s my understanding you have news for us?”

The Ambassador smiled, “Indeed, Your Royal Majesties. His Majesty the King of Misthaven sends his greetings and wishes you and the queendom good health. He also wishes to invite you to join his realm, and others, in a venture.”

“What venture is this?” Ardenzana inquired, leaning back on her throne.

“As Your Royal Majesties are aware, perhaps more than most of us, the forces of evil have been in ascendancy for some time, attacking the various realms and their rightful rulers. Now that many of those forces have been defeated, the true heroes desire reparations in some form for the years lost and the pain that has been caused. After much discussion, it has been decided that the villains should be sent to a specially designed, magical prison-”

“A prison?” Ardenzana sniffed, and Rhombus hid his smile at the utter disdain dripping from her tone like raindrops, “Doesn’t that seem a waste of resources to you, Ambassador?”

“How so, Your Royal Majesty?” the Ambassador gulped. Ardenzana was well-known for her temper, and he didn’t wish to anger her.

“Well,” Ardenzana drawled, “A prison requires taking resources from law-abiding citizens of a realm- money, space, magic -and spending them on those who do not abide the law. And in this case, those who have done so severely. Why should such behavior be rewarded with accommodations and food for life? Further, why should money, space, and magic that could be redistributed amongst law-abiding citizens be wasted in such a manner? I imagine those resources could all be more frabjously used in a Curse Reversal program, or one of Family Reunification, or one of Home Restoration,” the queen smiled again, this time with all the glee of a shark, “Even we have heard tales of the grotesque uses of magic- trapping people in mirrors, separating children from parents, exiling and taking properties,” just as quickly, the dark smile reverted to her bland political one, “I would think it more prudent to focus on rectifying the wrongs perpetrated by focusing on the victims rather than the villains, don’t you?”

Rhombus himself smiled, though he stayed mostly silent in this conversation. His wife had been raised with a mind to rule, and accordingly, politics were her playground. While he had been raised in the nobility and always known he would need to marry well, unlike his older brother (the Duke of Diamonds), he hadn’t paid as much attention in political studies. As a younger son, he’d never aspired to the office of king. But, love was love, and when Ardenzana had fallen for him...here he was.

Still, this matter was too delicate for him to interrupt just yet. And Ardenzana had boxed the Ambassador into a corner, because if he dared contradict her, not only would he be insulting her, he would be saying that victims of heinous crimes had no import.

Well-played, darling. Well-played.

The Ambassador knew so as well, and a long silence passed before he finally admitted, “Indeed, Your Royal Majesty. Your suggestion has much wisdom, and the king agrees. He has been...listening to the victims themselves, you see, and their wants and needs. And some of them want- no, they need -vengeance. In order to move forward with their lives, they have expressed a desire to know that their suffering is not forgotten, and that the villains understand just how much they suffered. Further, the victims need to be reassured they will never be put through pain by the villains again-”

“I find death to be appropriate reassurance,” Ardenzana noted, “Execution is more than effective in these cases. I think few can argue that the villains do not deserve to die for their crimes. Once the villains are executed, of course the victims will know they will never be affected by them again, for those villains will have ceased to exist. And then magic, money, and space could be given to the victims to start their new lives without fear of the specter of the old. That’s the nasty thing about prisons, Ambassador: there’s always a chance for specters to break out.”

The Ambassador gulped. Wonderland’s laws were strict. Under the rule of Ardenzana’s mother- Queen Incenzana -there had been some corruption. Upon Ardenzana’s ascension, she had decided to stamp it out immediately and forcefully by beheading the perpetrators. The message was clear: disobedience would not be tolerated. Luckily, she’d only ever had to enforce that punishment a few times, and the queendom had prospered until they were ousted by Cora Mills.

Knowing she had him cornered, the Queen of Hearts added, “Besides, Ambassador, aren’t many of these villains already dead?” Including Cora Mills, who had died, much to Ardenzana’s regret, not by her hand (or order).

The Ambassador nodded, “Yes, Your Royal Majesty is correct. His Majesty the King has suggested employing some of the kingdom’s most famous sorcerers to make them present for their trials.”

At this, Rhombus did finally ask, “‘Make them present?’ You can’t be suggesting exhuming corpses.” Ardenzana leaned towards him, lightly squeezing his hand in approval. Now the Ambassador had to admit the truth:

“No, Your Royal Majesty. Of course not,” the Ambassador began to wring his hands together, “These sorcerers would resurrect the villains. Return them to the living world so they may be tried, sent to prison, and pay for their crimes.”

Ardenzana dropped her smile, face growing serious, “Necromancy is a dark art, Ambassador. The dead are meant to stay dead, no matter who they are.” Wonderland had no religion- and neither did she -but that was a tenet they were all taught.

“Forgive me, Your Royal Majesty, but these are most unusual circumstances, and if it were to occur at the behest of victims-”

“Are victims truly asking for necromancy? I myself am no sorceress, but I find it hard to believe when people are recovering from curses and have families to care for they are focused on death magic-”

“What if,” the Ambassador interjected, “Your Royal Majesty was assured that His Majesty would personally deliver Cora Mills to your hands?”

A few hours later, Ardenzana seethed in their chambers, “Me, Rhombus! He tried to bribe me!” She hurled a dagger across the room, and the king sighed as it was embedded in a mosaic in the wall. The architects were not going to be happy about having to fix that- they’d already had to undo so many of the Woman’s “upgrades” to the Chessboard Palace in their absence.

“How dare he?” Ardenzana fumed, striding back and forth across the room, “Who does he think he is?”

“King,” Rhombus quipped, crossing his arms. But then he noticed Ardenzana was not just frumious. She had tears in her eyes. Surely this wasn’t just the usual insulting of her ego.

“Darling, what is it?” He moved to stand in front of her so instead of her frenetic pacing, she ended up walking straight into his chest.

Green eyes swimming with tears, she met his own, “Rhombus, I- it’s shameful. I can’t admit it, I won’t admit it-”

“Ardenzana,” the king said gently as he enfolded her in his embrace, “I hate to tell you this, but you talk in your sleep. I’d much rather you tell me now when I can actually help you.”

The queen gaped at him, “I do not-”

“Yes,” Rhombus said wearily, not willing to fight her on that tangent (or let her distract him with that tactic), “You do. Now please, tell me what’s actually bothering you.”

Fisting her hands in his shirt, Ardenzana looked away. Her voice ragged, she whispered:

“I considered it.”

“So she said no,” the King declared with a roll of his eyes, as the Ambassador nodded. He had been skeptical of the ‘queendom’- particularly given that Queen Ardenzana had already lost the throne once -but he couldn’t afford to ignore their opinion entirely. Not with the Rabbit Holes. Still, this confirmed his opinion that a woman shouldn’t be the head of things.

“I’m afraid so, Your Majesty,” the Ambassador grimaced, well-aware of his king’s displeasure, “She said they will continue to trade with us, of course, and support us in Reunification Efforts and Curse Reversals, but she said she couldn’t support necromantic arts-”

“Even if we’d give her Cora Mills?” the King insisted, completely disbelieving that the Queen of Hearts’ ego had allowed for that, “You told her that, right?”

The Ambassador nodded, “Of course, Your Majesty. I made it quite clear that Cora Mills would never even see the Isle of the Lost, but go straight to Wonderland for trial and execution, if Wonderland supported us in creation of the Isle of the Lost and allowed us to use its Rabbit Holes in order to retrieve those villains still living.”

“What a fool,” the king shook his head, “No wonder she lost the throne to begin with.”

Gently, the Ambassador queried, “Do you want us to withdraw the alliance? We still can, it’s only newly signed-”

“No,” the King said irritably, “She might still change her mind. We can hope for that at least.”

“I’m proud of you,” Rhombus said, rubbing circles on her back, “No one knows more than me how much she hurt you. Having her back to wreak vengeance on...that was a powerful temptation. But you held true to your morals, Ardenzana, and that’s what matters-”

“If The Woman were alive- naturally alive, I mean, it would be different. But she’s not. And I just worry that if I support this, we gown down a path we can never reverse. And where does it end? Do we raise the whole human race? It’s madness, and yet...” she sucked in a breath, “What if I was wrong, Rhombus?” Ardenzana wondered, “What if this is what people really want?”

Rhombus shrugged, “Luckily, Wonderland is its own realm. You only have to worry about here. Those other realms? They’re separate. What their people want is not our concern. You, Ardenzana of Wonderland, are Queen of Hearts. Let the other monarchs worry about their people, and we’ll worry about ours.”

Then he kissed her on the forehead.

#solo para #convo:ardenzana #convo:rhombus #ardenzana and rhombus #rhombus and ardenzana #auradxnhq task

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herenortherenearnorfar · 6 years

Text

Pretender to the Throne

(Just a not-so-quick SvtFoE bit because I’m still deep in Medical Terminology work but I love the twists, love me some complicated mother-daughter relationships and family dynasties. I guess the third part of my to-be-jossed, Butterfly centric SvtFoE fics.)

Star had never put much stock by her royal privilege. When you were born with something, you took it for granted; like Tom with fire, or Ponyhead with floating.

More and more often, Marco was the one who put the pieces together for her. He bothered to learn about royal rules and rights, and how Star could technically skip to the head of any ice cream line in the allied kingdoms of Mewni. He was the one who shook her shoulder on the carriage ride home and whispered, “Hey, if Miss Heinous is a Butterfly, and she was Eclipsa’s daughter, and Eclipsa was queen, does that mean she was supposed to be queen?”

Star’s eyes flew open, and she punched Tom- her makeshift pillow- in the chest instinctively. He flicked the back of her head. “Not full of goose feathers, Star.”

“Sorry,” she said, apologetically. “Marco just said something real whack though. Marco, repeat the whack thing.”

Marco blushed under all the attention. Pony, at least, was still asleep, napping off the punch, but Star was staring blearily and even Tom was paying attention in between tearing strips off his shock blanket and incinerating them. “I mean, Eclipsa was queen, and Miss Heinous was- is, really- her daughter. And the daughter of a queen becomes queen next, right?”

“Normally, yes...” Star was too upset with the night to explain the complexities of Mewni’s succession- and frankly she hadn’t paid enough attention in school. She was next in line and that was all that mattered. “But not if there’s an older daughter, I don’t think. And Eclipsa is my great-whatever grandma, so she must have had an older daughter, right?”

Suddenly, she felt uncertain of that once sure fact. Maybe Eclipsa was just her aunt, or her cousin. The grandma room couldn’t only be for grandmas. Butterflys charged into battle too often and too recklessly for them to have maintained a single line of descent.

“Besides,” she said, covering for her sudden confusion with overconfidence, “A monster couldn’t inherit.”

Marco shifted a little on his bench, like he had in class when he knew the right answer but was afraid to say so. “Are you sure?”

Star gaped at him, mouth moving silently as she looked for an explanation she couldn’t provide. Desperately she glanced around the carriage, as if an inheritance lawyer would appear out of nowhere and solve her woes, but there were only the four of them. Ponyhead snored softly and Tom shrugged, as unhelpful as ever. His mother had emerged from lava and primordial evil and his father was the abstract conglomeration of every middle-aged dad who had ever gotten angry at a hardware store. He didn’t have to deal with extended family.

“It might not be a law,” Star rallied finally, “But you know what mewmans are like; no one would have let her inherit. Especially not if she was a baby.”

“Yeah,” Marco said, “They might, I don’t know, try to kill her? Leave a crazy lady with purple hair outside her bedroom in case she ever tried to come back?”

“It does kind of make sense,” Tom said helpfully, “You don’t leave someone to guard something that isn’t dangerous- I’m just saying!” He held up his hands like he was afraid he’d get punched again.

“I’m almost certain Eclipsa is my grandmother,” Star said, “’Cause her tapestry said she was married to a mewman first and you don’t say that unless you- you know.” It felt awkward to explain the basics of royal marriage to a pair of boys, even boys who were her friends, but they both nodded agreeably.

“Got busy, yeah,” Tom said. “Maybe they were afraid she’d try to inherit anyway. Like, a bunch of monsters would want to make her queen because she’s a monster too.”

There was a long pause.

“That’s really smart, Tom,” Marco said.

Tom nodded, “I try.” The ragged remainder of the shock blanket burst into flames in his hands, sending Star scooching down the bench towards Marco. The flames died down quickly, Tom’s fires always burned out fast, but Star elected to stay away. He seemed a little moody, even if he didn’t realize it, and there was still a lot of hairspray in her hair.

“Even if Miss Heinous- Meteora- was the heir back then, that doesn’t really matter now though, does it?” Star asked, trying to steer the conversation back on track. “There have been lots of queens. Seems like you’ve got a window to grab the throne and after that you’ve lost your chance.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works legally,” Marco said with a frown.

“Legality, reality. It doesn’t matter what’s legal, Marco!”

There was a long silence. Tom started to gently smoke. Both Marco and Star turned on him, concerned.

Marco edged around the carriage floor until he was across from Tom, trying not to get jolted into the demon’s personal space. “Hey, Tom, buddy? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Tom insisted, crossing his arms. Star closed in on him from the side.

“You smell like brimstone,” she pointed out, with an awkward chuckle, “The driver is going to think we’re up to something in here.”

Tom didn’t respond. Marco reached over and carefully patted his hand, then withdrew with a yelp. “It’s okay to talk to your friends,” he said as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, “Also your skin is really hot and I’d prefer that no one gets second degree burns the next time we go around a bend really fast. We need to cool off.”

The threat of imminent danger to others finally did it. Tom flipped his sunglasses down over his eyes and leaned back against the carriage’s upholstery, ignoring how the leather hissed in protest. “She just looked a lot like me, is all. Looks human with a big red parent, magical powers, royal heritage. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since I realized. You know I don’t usually care about politics but this one feels... strange.”

He wasn’t exactly wrong, Star reflected. Meteora did kind of look like him, if you squinted. The pale hair, the pointed ears, the hint of fangs.

She hugged Tom, heedless of the way the cushions were melting around him. Sure enough, by the time she touched him he was just uncomfortably warm. “It’s not weird.”

“This doesn’t mean I’m on her side, or anything,” Tom protested, “Just some mildly uncomfortable feelings for me to talk out with my therapist.” “Well, I’m sort of on her side,” Marco said, as Star and Tom pulled apart. “Miss Heinous is terrible, but whatever happened to her sounds worse.”

“I know,” Star agreed, voice feeling too tight in her throat. “And I didn’t mean to say- I mean. We need to focus on what we can do now to fix this. I need to talk to my parents. I just don’t know what I’m going to say.”

A hand rapped on the side of the carriage and a voice full of knightly bluster called, “Five minutes until the Underworld and Cloud Kingdom!”

Tom pressed a little closer to Star’s side. “If anyone can figure it out, it’s you.”

In the corner, Pony abruptly stopped snoring and righted herself in midair, shaking free of the bubble Star had put her in to keep her from sleep goring anyone on the long and bumpy ride. Star brightened.

“Ponyhead! We were just talking about-”

“Mmmhm,” Pony, never a light sleeper, looked oddly alert. “I heard. I was ignoring you because it was, how can I say this, not very interesting? But it’s clear that you all need my help.”

Marco, less used to Ponyhead, looked affronted. “We don’t need-”

It was no use, she was on a roll. “It’s not your fault, you’re all only children. Politics don’t come easily to you. But I’ve had to live and breath politics every day or get stabbed in the back. Sibling life, you know. Listen up, because I’m only going to say this once.”

Star leaned in. Marco sighed but dutifully took out his favorite notebook. Tom stared out the window, pretending not to listen.

“First off, you need to figure out the laws. Loopholes are your friends and everyone else is going try to use them. Learn every last declaration and requirement. And figure out how our girl Heinous really is related to you. Much as I hate to say it, you’re going to have to read some stuff.”

“We can do that,” Marco said slowly,

“I’m not done. Don’t tell your parents. Parents have no sense of humor about this sort of thing. Also if they know you’re looking for the information they might start looking at what you’re checking out of the library and that won’t end well. Do talk to historians though. They love talking, it’s the worst. And see if you can get some information out of our girl Eclipsa.” Ponyhead had the calculating look of someone who dealt with secret evil cousins very week, “Don’t tell her about her kid being alive though, that might upset her.”

“I can’t lie to her!” Star protested.

“You can and you have to, bestie. She’s dangerous. You should also listen to the monster communities. If someone wants the throne they need co-conspirators, and the first place you look is family. If Heinous can’t get to her mom she’s going to turn to monsters related to her dad, or just monsters in general. Keep your ear to the ground.”

The carriage started to slow to a halt.

“That’s our stop,” Ponyhead commented.

Star gave her a neck crushing hug. “Thank you for the advice,” she whispered.

“Learn how to throw better parties! Love you! Talk to you!” Pony said as she drifted out the door, now being held open by a waiting knight. ‘

Tom lingered. Under the gaze of Mewni’s finest they couldn’t talk freely, but he kissed Star on the cheek and said, “I’m sure you’ll figure... all of this out.”

“Thanks. And Tom? You know if you ever want to talk about feelings we’re here, right?”

“All of us,” Marco confirmed, looking up from his notebook to give Tom an earnest, if bleary smile.

Tom backed out of the carriage hastily, “I absolutely will not be taking you up on that. Later, babe!”

The door closed, and the carriage started back on it’s way. It wasn’t too far from the outskirts of the city to the castle, and Star already felt dread at the scolding she was about to get slowly bubbling in her stomach. She threw herself across the carriage and stretched out on the unburnt bench so her head was next to Marco’s thigh and her legs were folded up against the wall. Even the sight of her party boots wasn’t enough to soothe her.

Marco starting taking the pins out of her hair. Half of them had already fallen out, and the removal of just a few more made the entire updo collapse like a souffle.

After a few minutes of listening to the wheels on the cobbles and the soft bleats of the invisible goat, Star had had enough.

“It’s just... it’s so messed up!” she said, hand fluttering in frustration. “Mewni was bad to begin with, but I thought I could fix the problems with monsters and mewmans. I thought I could help Eclipsa. I don’t know if I can fix this. It’s so big.”

“Yeah, it is,” Marco agreed. “But I think we have to try.”

They did. As horrible as all the options for action were, inaction was even worse.

It was only- Star was a royal, born and bred. She didn’t always think about it, or pay attention to it, but it was in her bones. She could disregard the privileges and ignore the customs of her station, but deep within her bones lurked the imperative to protect her birthright, protect her kingdom, protect her magic. It was something her mother had whispered to her when she was too young to fully remember it.

Helping the monsters hadn’t required disregarding that. Neither had helping Eclipsa, long deposed and with no interest in queendom. But helping Meteora, who was frightening and had been wronged, and whose hurt might have given Star her crown?

As Ponyhead always pointed out when she pushed her sisters around, a princess couldn’t well help her rival to the throne.

“She’s family,” Star muttered.

Marco patted her head. “Yeah. Your family is super messed up.”

#svtfoe fanfic #svtfoe #star butterfly #marco diaz #ponyhead #tom lucitor #meteora

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justanoutlawfic · 7 years

Note

Three word starter prompt 'dont do this' - daddy charming

Thank you for sending this in! I’ve setin a canon divergence of 6x12, where Emma was the one to help David find outwho killed his dad.

This was submitted to me from this three word starter meme I reblogged. Send me a line&a ship and I’ll write a ficlet. :)

Also on AO3/FF

“Shatterevery window till it’s all blown away,Every brick, every board, every slamming door blown awayTill there’s nothing left standing,Nothing left of yesterdayEvery tear-soaked whiskey memory blown away.”-Carrie Underwood

Emma hung back as she watched August and her fatherdiscuss Pleasure Island. She had wanted to help him as much as she could,though she was definitely hesitant. Her mother had told her about himdiscovering that Robert’s death had been a result of murder rather than hisalcoholism. However, Snow had also added that David had agreed to let it go.She couldn’t help but agree with it. Things in Storybrooke were crazy enoughwithout her dad risking his life to try to get revenge. When he came to her,asking for her help since she had potions and such, she almost said no. Thenshe found out from Killian that he had passed out in front of her house andrealized just how much of a walking zombie he looked like. She was starting tofigure out he wasn’t going to tag out and wake up her mom until he got to thebottom of this. David had promised to finally get some sleep once it was allsorted and Emma truly believed him.

“This is definitely the coin,” August confirmed as helooked it over. “And it was the last I saw of him, he left with the boy.Honestly, I never put you with him, David.”

“He went after James,” David breathed, a mixture ofshock and confusion on his face. Emma stepped closer, putting her hand on topof his and he squeezed it in return. “I thought he was just a drunk who fellprey to his temptations.” A smile slowly spread across his face as he came tothe realization. Decades of resenting his father, thinking he cared more aboutthe alcohol than his family…it wasn’t true. “He was trying to fix our family.”

“He was stone cold sober,” August confirmed with asmile.

David reached down and took the coin into his hand. Itfelt different now and it wasn’t just the remnants of the potion. Suddenly, herealized just who had killed his father. It all made sense now. He was nearly surprisedthat he hadn’t thought of it before. Emma could see the gears in her father’shead working and she suddenly got a little worried. She knew that look, heck,she had inherited it from him-as had Henry.

Emma wasn’t paying much attention to August continuing to discuss Robert,talking about the pages from the book he had removed all those years ago. Sheonly snapped out of it when she heard her father say his goodbyes and head forthe door. Emma quickly turned to her friend and gave him a quick smile.

“Thanks,” she said before following her dad out the door.

When she caught up with David, he was pacing a little bit,though he stopped when he saw his daughter.

“I know who killed him,” he told her. “He’s still alive and I know where he is.”

Emma sighed. “Dad…”

David studied her face. That hadn’t been the reaction he wasexpecting. “You don’t want me to go after him.” It wasn’t a question, more of astatement.

“No, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Seriously?”

“Dad, you promised Mom that you weren’t going to lookfor him. I understood this little mission, but you know now. Isn’t that enough?”

“No! My father was a good man, he was just trying toget our family together! George needs to pay!”

Emma bit her lip. Out of all the people, it had to behim. George and her father already had a complicated history. The former tyranthad not only destroyed James and turned him into the monster he became, he hadalso been terrible to David and Snow. Ruth had to die just so Emma and herbrother could even exist. George was already paying for his crimes, he waslocked up in the asylum and forever would be.

“He already is,” Emma said, trying to calm himdown. “He’s locked up, he’s nevergetting out. Killing him won’t bring your father back. You need to just find away to move on. Don’t you remember what you told me when we thought Killian wasgone for good? People are meant to grieve.”

“You didn’t listen to that advice,” David pointed out.

“No, but I should have,” she replied, sounding just asstubborn as he. “If I had just grieved properly, not gone to the Underworld, I would’vesaved everyone so much pain. My lack of coping skills ended up two lives beingtaken and only one was able to come back. I regret my choices.” She let out asigh. “I don’t want you doing something you’re going to regret.”

David looked down into Emma’s eyes, letting her wordswash over him. He bit down on his lip and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Could you go pick up Neal from the daycare?” Heasked. “I think I need some sleep.”

Emma smiled a little and nodded, standing on hertiptoes to kiss his cheek.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Emma grabbed Neal from the daycare just a block away,thanking Ashley for all the babysitting she had been doing lately. She headedback to the loft, expecting to see her mother awake. Instead, she found herstill sleeping peacefully in bed. Emma felt a sinking feeling fill her stomachas she walked over to the nightstand and found her father’s handwriting on the padher parents used to write notes back and forth.

Emma,

I’msorry, but I can’t go to sleep. Not yet. George has caused our family so muchpain over the years, I can’t let him get away with it anymore. I love you, I’llsee you soon.-Dad

She let out a frustrated grunt and dug through herpocket, pulling out her cellphone. “Henry, what are you up to, kid?…Alright,great. I’m going to drop your uncle off, alright? My mom’s still asleep and Ihave to help Dad with something else.”

Luckily for Emma, it had taken David some time to getto the asylum. She used her old bail bondsperson skills to stealthily walkbehind him through the halls to where George was. She watched as her fatherthrew open the door to the cell. George sat on his bed, that smirk returning tohis face.

“A visitor,” he snarked. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

David stormed into the cell and grabbed him by theshirt, dragging him out and doing all but throw him against the wall. “You killedmy father!”

George chuckled and Emma was so tempted to just snaphis neck herself. “Well technically, Iordered him killed. I wondered if you’d work it out.”

Emma had never seen the look that was in her father’seyes. It was a mixture of disgust, hatred and hurt. “You evil bastard. He didn’t deserve that,”he snarled.

“That’s true,” George taunted. “He was a good man. I offered him temptation andhe withstood it. I’ll bet he was imagining your little face when he opened thefront door and he was standing there, sober, victorious with your brother inhis arms.” He let out an evil laugh. “Insteadyou got news he died a drunken failure.”

“Stop!” David’s voice was breaking. He grabbed a knifefrom his pocket and slid it across the floor to George before grabbing anotherand holding it out. “Now fight for your life, if you think it’s worth it.”

The words took Emma off guard. This was a side of himshe hadn’t seen before. Her father was a hero, one of the good guys. To her,that’s what he’d always be. She wasn’t blind to the bad things he had done inthe past, but knew he had regrets over them. Here, she knew that he didn’t reallywant George to die. He just wanted the pain to stop. She knew the feeling alltoo well. Not too long ago, she had stood over Lily holding a gun. She hadthought if she killed her, all the hurt from her parents’ lies, theexpectations that were put upon both of them, the pain that Lily had inflictedon her would just go away. Luckily, Regina had been there to talk her down. Shewas lucky.

She wouldn’t allow her father to succumb to darkness,not again.

“Don’t do this!” Emma yelled out.

David turned to Emma, his eyes wide. He had beenreally stupid to expect that she wouldn’t follow him. Before he could reactmuch further, Emma grabbed George by his arm and shoved him back into his cell,slamming the door shut. She used her magic to lock the door again.

“What the hell?!?” David exploded. “He admitted hekilled my father!”

“Yes,” Emma replied, calmly, stepping closer to herfather. “He killed him. He also told you about the type of man that he was.Your father could’ve killed George right then and there, but he didn’t. He wasa good man, noble.”

“But it didn’t work! He still died!” David felt tearsgather in his eyes. “I thought he didn’t fight for us, but he did! He foughtwith everything that he had! He did the right thing and it wasn’t enough!”

Emma bit her lip, watching as he clearly became moreemotional. She stepped closer to him, feeling her heart break. Her father andher were alike in many ways. From their hair to the similar smile, to theability to bottle things up inside until they completely exploded.

“What if we can’t break this curse and I never get tosee your mother again? What if…what if Gideon comes back and he…” David trailedoff, not wanting to voice his most recent fear out loud. Emma ducked her head,she didn’t want to add to her father’s worry. At the same time, she knew there wasn’tmuch she could do there. If Henry was going through the same thing, she wouldn’tbe able to help but be scared. “What if being Prince Charming isn’t enough andI keep losing and it keeps going and I lose everything that matters to me?!?”

Tears prickled Emma’s eyes herself. She hated seeingher dad in such a way, so vulnerable and scared. She was the savior, it was herjob to keep everyone’s safe. She felt as though she had failed him in some way,for not preventing the Evil Queen’s curse upon their hearts. She didn’t care ifshe had to die to keep her family safe, but between this breakdown and Henry’swhile they were searching for Aladdin, she was starting to realize just what atole it was taking on everyone. At the same time, she knew it was more thanthat.

She and her father had grown up the same way incertain senses. Yes, he had a loving mother, but not a father. He assumed hisdad hadn’t cared, that he had put something above him. Emma had spent every dayfor 28 years assuming that her own father had given her up, didn’t care abouther. She assumed there had been something greater that came before her. Thenshe broke the curse and found out that he nearly died trying to keep her safe.It was overwhelming and the emotions were a lot for anyone to handle. She hadpushed her parents away when she was going through them, but she wasn’t goingto abandon her dad when he needed her the most.

“I understand,” she said, softly. “I do. You don’t haveto be anything more than what you are. You are an amazing man, one that yourfather would be so proud of. You’re a great husband, a phenomenal father toNeal…and me.” She bridged the final gap between them. “You don’t have to be aprince, you don’t have to be a hero. You don’t have to save everyone. It’sgoing to be okay.”

David looked down intohis daughter’s eyes, they were both crying by that point. He let out a shakybreath and dropped the knife, falling to his knees as he sobbed. Emma knelt infront of him, wrapping her arms tightly around him. He returned the hug, stillmanaging to cradle the back of her head. It was going to take more than thisfor him to move on from it, sessions with Archie were probably much needed. Butin that moment, the two just sat there, hugging each other tightly. Not heroes,royalty or saviors. Just a father and daughter, using love to start the healingprocess.

#daddy charming au #daddy charming fanfiction #daddy charming ff #daddy charming fanfic #daddy charming fic #daddy charming #charming family #charming family au #charming family fanfiction #charming family fic #charming family ff #emma x david #david x emma #anon prompt

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iris-sistibly · 7 years

Video

youtube

4R’s: Encantadia Season 2 (April 10, 2017 episode review)

Iris-message: As announced by GMA Encantadia on Twitter, we’re only going to have three episodes this week, so the week-ender episode will definitely be on Wednesday, as you all know it’s lenten, and Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Black Saturday will be our time to reflect and re-connect with our own Emre, our beloved God. Fam bam and I are prolly gonna do the usual stuff, Visita Iglesia, Station of the cross, the usual stuff, and I would most probably re-watch the Ten Commandments because I love that movie so much or the Prince of Egypt maybe. So in advance, may our long weekend be a meaningful one!

Episode 191

Recap:

How to fake it

Ybrahim started to throw a shade at Avria, Hagorn and Asval, but before this turns into a nasty, deadly match, Alena “humbled” herself and apologized on Ybrahim’s behalf. The peace talk continued, with Danaya trying to convince Avria that they have really come for peace. To be able to do that, Avria demanded to surrender all of the gems in their possession to her. Danaya assured that they aren’t going to use the gems against them, but Avria did not believe, she is fully aware that the diwatas do not trust her and vice versa. Avria ended the talk and told them to meet her in the battle field but Danaya stopped her and finally gave her what she wanted—the brilyante ng lupa. Ybrahim strongly opposed but Danaya stood firm on her decision and handed the gem over to Avria, but the latter also demanded for the remaining gems, Alena was ready to surrender hers if Avria vows not to hurt any encantado, and stop their evil schemes against Lireo in general, Avria told her she will think it over and did not get the water gem, at this point, Avria was convinced that Danaya was “sincere” of her desire for peace, the talk ended successfully.

Hearing the news about Alena, Danaya and Ybrahim going to Etheria to bargain made Pao Pao, Muyak and Ariana worried. Pao Pao knew Avria won’t settle for peace unless the sang’gres hand over the gems to her. The monarchs returned to Lireo, everyone was waiting for Danaya to spread the news. Rehav Manik assured that the Punjabwes are going to fight on their side, but Danaya told everyone that no war is going to take place, for she has surrendered the earth gem to Avria and this made the Etherian queen agree for a ceasefire. Though the talk was a success, Ybrahim was still worried, everyone knows that Etherians will never keep their promise and feared for that day when they will all be mercilessly killed. This had everyone worried as well, Alena shut Ybrahim and everyone up and asked the rest except the monarchs to leave them for awhile. Now that only Danaya, Alena, Imaw and Ybrahim were left, it was now time to tell the truth, Alena made a shield out of her water gem to make sure no one else will hear, Danaya revealed that she created an exact replica of her earth gem and the fake one was handed over to Avria, she also made sure that the replica works just like the real earth gem to make Avria believe that it is really Danaya’s brilyante. Ybrahim apologized and commended Danaya for coming up with that scheme, but he knew Avria is going to discover the truth eventually, Danaya could only hope by the time it happens, Emre and Cassiopeia has already succeeded with their mission.

To make him smile again

Ybrahim was studying the map of Encantadia, apparently he still wanted to seek revenge on Etheria, Ariana found him and told him how relieved she was that he made it back safely, Ybrahim asked her why, Ariana bluffed and told him that she doesn’t want him to get hurt but it only made Ybrahim ask more questions, Ariana and Ybrahim would have been placed in another awkward moment if Alena didn’t come, Ybrahim excused himself and told Ariana to call it a night. Alena had the chance to talk to Ariana, she had been listening to her conversation with Ybrahim and decided to confront the Punjabwe-a, Alena asked Ariana if she was in-love with Ybrahim, and although Ariana gave her an indirect answer, Alena knew she harbors feelings for the king. Alena is the most sensitive and observant among the sisters thus she knew that Ariana feels something for Ybrahim from the way she looks at him, to the way she acts towards him. Ariana apologized and made it clear that she doesn’t have any plans on stealing him from Alena, but Alena told her that everything between her and Ybrahim has long been ended, and all she ever wants is for him to be happy, thus Alena asked Ariana to make him fall in-love with her, Ybrahim has been through so much pain and Alena wants to see the man she once loved smile again, and the key she believes is Ariana.

The golden hourglass

Amarro and Lila Sari did not hesitate to reveal where Avria got her powers from, but Pirena already knew that and wanted to know where her army came from instead. Amarro and Lila Sari told her about the golden hourglass that Avria used along with the gems to help Etherians travel to the present time. The hourglass is a powerful tool that makes anyone travel from one timeline to another (or turn back time), Pirena became interested at this in hopes to turn back to the time when Mira needed her help the most, unfortunately, only Avria knows where it is. Pirena immediately came up with a plan but before leaving, she told Lila Sari and Amarro that Deshna is in Adjantao, a place Hagorn chose to hide the child. It was a lie, and Pirena had to do it because she’s still going to use her sister against Hagorn.

Meanwhile in Etheria, Hagorn suspected something about Danaya surrendering the earth gem wasn’t right, Asval set those thoughts aside but Hagorn has a point, the sang’gres aren’t stupid to hand over the gems without coming up with a plan. Asval’s suspicions rose, a Hathor came and whispered something to Hagorn, he left Asval who was still pondering over Hagorn’s words. Asval went to Avria and told her his doubts, to be able to confirm, Avria tested the gem out, it unleashed power, something that fake ones can’t. Avria was very certain she has the real earth gem.

The former king of Hathoria found out that Pirena was outside the Etherian palace, Pirena immediately asked Hagorn a favor to help her, Pirena wanted to enter the palace without anyone noticing. At first, Hagorn did not want to but Pirena threatened to tell Lila Sari where Deshna is which forced Hagorn to grant her request. Pirena made it inside, Hagorn warned her that he will be the one to punish her in case she gets caught. Pirena thanked her father and proceeded with her plan.

Rave/s:

💚 YES ALENA! Out of everything she has done, I think that one thing that makes me really proud of her character is that she has finally moved on (take note of the word, “MINSAN”) she has been through a lot of pain, she made mistakes in the past but in the end, she did not let her anger take control of her, she has grown so much from being a pabebe sang’gre, to a vengeful mother, to a confidently beautiful woman with a heart, and I couldn’t be more proud as an encantadik, I think she has the most beautiful character transition out of all other characters, her heart was once her Achilles’ heel, but look at her now! And I love how Gabbi is portraying the character these past few weeks, although it took a really long time, but I really have to say that she succeeded on merging her own personality with Alena’s. She has finally connected with her character, she herself witnessed everything Alena went through and this led her to finally understand and dig deeper into the character, and for that I am truly, genuinely proud of Gabbi. If I could hug Alena right now I swear I will do it and I’ll tell her how she makes me proud every single day, I hope everyone feels the same, every Alena fan, every AleBarro/YbraLena fan, every GabRu fan, let Alena be, because nothing is more satisfying than knowing your self-worth. Nothing is more awesome than to finally tell yourself that, “Finally, it’s over.” She chose to be free and she got it, now all I want is for her to find that true happiness and get that one precious thing she always wanted, someone who can give her the love she has been searching. Kebs na kung beauty and the Beast ang peg, let’s give AleMemfes a chance. Let’s give Gabbi a chance to prove that she is the next ultimate leading lady! Wish you luck Gab and Lance!

💛 DAYUM DANAYA YOU DA QUEEN! I love how this show redeemed itself from their “unacceptable” episodes for the past two weeks, the battle of who’s smarter, who’s better is definitely on! Love you queen, this show is finally telling everyone that it is not only Pirena who knows how to think.

🌷 Because I love this week-starter in general, I’m not gonna rant about anything. Y’all probably know that I’m still gonna shoot fires at Arra’s performance, BUT, I decided not to do that because I don’t wanna break my own bubble and lash out at Arra [again], I felt like I’m already getting used to her shitty performance, or maybe I’m not in the mood? Whatever! Acting-wise I am still uncertain and unconvinced that Arra deserves the role, but narrative-wise this is how it should be. Set aside all of your anger towards Ariana and focus on the story itself, remember Amihan’s sarkosi is inside Ariana’s body so technically Ariana is still Amihan, although her characterization is inconsistent as fuck, I would still go for this route but I do NOT agree with the making Ybrahim fall for Ariana part, I mean sure they feel some sort of connection with each other, but I would rather let them discover and realize their feelings for each other in a slow-burn kind of way than “forcing themselves to each other,” god! Amihan will never do such thing even if she loves her man so much. Duh. So you know, I’ve been really, really ranting about Arra and Ariana lately, and it’s no surprise to you guys, but you see, I’m already fed up at making the same old comments all over again, I feel like it’s pathetic how I’m stressing myself over an actress whom I’m not sure if she can really act. I had the chance to go over my previous reviews from last week and last, last week, and I just realized that rooting for Arra is just…pointless, and me ranting endlessly about her wouldn’t change the fact that they chose her to play the character, I mean they already chose her so they gotta stand up on their decision, panindigan nila ‘yan. Now before you react, let me just make myself clear, I’M TIRED AT HATING ON ARIANA, I’m sick at blabbing shits about Arra, and I’m so done at lambasting her story, telling everyone her story should be like this and that. I’VE HAD ENOUGH OKAY? I wanna stop because I have to, I hate being stressed, and Arra is my source of stress, so I have to get her out of my nerves dude, it’s bad for my health! I have come to this point where I am already starting to “accept” that Ruru’s going to do all the hard work for the rest of this whole Ybriana “romance”, and the only thing that’s gonna save Arra’s face in the show is the Amihan/Kylie flash backs, okay, noted. I’m just going to give all the hopeless chances on her, and take note, I repeat, those are “HOPELESS chances,” that means I no longer care, let her do her thing, I’m not expecting anything, period. If she does impress, good, I’ll rave about her, and if not, then I guess I’m just gonna sarcastically thank her forever for annihilating what would have been Amihan’s second shot at life, and until Arra proves me wrong, I am not going to see Ariana and Amihan as one character.

Rant/s:

No rants so far.

I’m really happy at Alena and Danaya’s progresses and I’m not gonna let a few minutes of crap ruin it! Nuh-uh.

Best performer/s for this episode: Gabbi Garcia 🌊

Rating: 9 out of 10💎s

Photo credits: From Twitter: @GMAEncantadia (Encantadia 2016-2017 official twitter acct) @gmanetwork (GMA Network); official website: gmanetwork.com @GMADrama (GMA Drama)

From Facebook: Encantadia 2016; official website: encantadia.com.ph

Video credits: GMA Network via YouTube & dailymotion

#tv series #encantadia #encantadiapanalangin #pirena #ybrahim #ybriana #ybramihan #4Rs

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lynfraser09 · 7 years

Text

Extreme Measures

Title: Extreme Measures

Rating: K+

Words: 3,363

Summary: When Oliver's daughter is bullied he takes matters into his own hands to stop it.

A03 Fanfiction

Oliver stood with the crowd of other parents waiting to pick their children up from Ms. Dover's kindergarten class.

It was his turn to pick up their five year old daughter, or so Felicity had declared. She reminded him that she was incredibly busy and he reminded her that technically she worked for him. That earned him a long stare and within five minutes he was riding the elevator downstairs.

He actually didn't mind, and rather enjoyed, taking a break from being CEO and spending a little bit of time with his little girl. Molly Rose Queen was the spitting image of her mother, full of life and spunk and the absolute light of his life.

Nearly six years before he had almost had a heart attack when Felicity announced her pregnancy. It wasn't like they hadn't talked about it because they had but only a few times and they weren't exactly trying at the moment. He didn't know how he'd balance being a new father on top of recently being reinstated as CEO of Queen Consolidated and continuing his double, extremely dangerous life as the Arrow.

However all his anxieties were lessened the second he laid eyes on that precious little being that was his daughter.

He still had worries, every day, especially when he gets involved in a mission that is more on the dangerous side. Diggle helps as much as he can and Roy and Laurel are an even bigger help, handling the missions that late nights and - later - school functions did not provide time for him to do.

He was so grateful for his team that their help allowed him and Felicity to lead somewhat normal lives with their daughter.

Felicity stayed at home with Molly for the first year but she soon became restless. Her technical abilities did allow her to work from home often but she needed to get out of the house and so they created a nursery/play room in Queen Consolidated to let Molly continue to be around her parents while they worked.

Everyone at the office loved her so she was never left alone, even when meetings had both her mother and father busy for a few hours.

It was a normal, everyday life for little Molly Queen and she didn't seem to mind it, which Oliver was glad for.

A bell suddenly rang throughout the hallways, signaling the end of the class day and doors pushed open, kids yelling and running out of the classroom as they looked for their parents or headed out towards their buses.

A smile lit Oliver's face at just the thought of seeing his little girl.

A few kids trickled out of Ms. Dover's classroom, meeting their mom or dad outside and it was only another minute or two before he saw the familiar flash of blonde and bright pink backpack.

He waited for her to spot him and had his arms all ready for her to run and jump into, just as she always did when he picked her up.

However, his face fell when wide, blue eyes met his across the hallway and the little girl slowly trudged toward him.

He frowned, his brow furrowing as he dropped into a squat as she approached to be eye level with her. "Hi honey." He said softly.

"Hi daddy." She muttered quietly, turning her eyes to the ground and shuffling her feet.

He turned his head, reaching out to brush a strand of her hair away from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. "What's the matter, baby? Do you feel sick?"

Molly shook her head slowly, murmuring a soft, "No."

She suddenly jumped as two young boys came running out of the classroom, whizzing past her and screaming as little boys do.

She looked over her shoulder quickly and Oliver felt his heart drop at the sight of her eyes glistening. She inched closer to her father and his years of vigilante work and fine-tuned hearing picked up the slightest of whimpers in her throat as she continued to stare at the boys who were now shoving each other at an adult woman's feet.

Oliver's frown deepened, following her line of sight and his body went rigid.

"Molly...” His voice was calm and steady but there was an edge that had Molly turning to him with wide eyes. She knew that tone well. "Were those boys bothering you?"

Molly shook her head quickly, her eyes still wide, her fear as clear as day in those bright blue eyes.

Oliver softened his expression, cupping her little cheek in his palm. "Baby it’s alright, you can tell me if they are."

Molly stared at him for a few seconds and then her bottom lip stuck out in a pout and tears once again sprung to her eyes.

Oliver felt his heart breaking at the look on her face and he immediately gathered her into his arms, pressing her gently against his chest. She grabbed onto his shirt and buried her head into his chest.

Within seconds he could feel the wetness of her tears soaking through his shirt and her little shoulders shaking and he clutched her tighter against him, closing his eyes as he kissed the top of her head.

He let out a slow breath through his nose as he looked over her head to where the two boys had been. He saw that they had disappeared from the hallway and frowned.

His eyes narrowed slightly - there was no way he was going to let this continue - no one, not even children, got away with hurting his baby.

"It's alright." He whispered soothingly to her, scooping her up in his arms as he rose to his feet.

Her arms wound around his neck and she clung to him desperately, her tears subsiding, but sniffling every now and again.

"I won't let them hurt you anymore, baby, I promise."

----

"Oliver Jonas Queen."

Oliver jumped, startled, as his wife came walking in through the door to his office. Behind her, he could see Molly, a bright smile on her lips, scampering off towards her playroom.

His eyes flashed back to Felicity and the corners of his lips twitched up in an innocent smile. "Yes dear?"

She sighed heavily, placing her hands on her hips. "Our daughter is happy."

He blinked at her. "And you're upset about that because...?"

She rolled her eyes. "Well after you told me she is being bullied by two boys in her class I didn't expect her to be. Not that I don't want her to be, obviously, but she told me this had been going on for a while when I dropped her off this morning. However, when I pick her up, she's practically doing cartwheels down the hallway and do you know why?"

He opened his mouth without realizing she was being rhetorical and she cut him off.

"Both boys came up to her and apologized and then they apologized to me when I came to pick her up, swearing on their little toy soldiers that they would never say anything bad to her again."

His lips twitched again, a more triumphant smirk, and he leaned back in his chair. "Well that's good isn't it?"

She sighed again, her hands falling to her sides. "Yes, it's good but that’s not the point. The point is that while they were saying these things to me they looked terrified and do you know why they look terrified? Because apparently, while they were playing in their backyard last night, the Arrow showed up, shot an arrow through their tree house and told them that bad things happen to little boys who are mean to little girls."

His smirk only widened and she shook her head in disbelief. "Oliver!"

"What?" He sat up quickly. "What do you want me to say? That I regret it? I didn’t hurt them."

"You scared them! They are children, Oliver!"

"Children who need to learn that bullying anyone has consequences."

"Consequences that are to be delivered by their parents not by a hooded vigilante." She shot back.

He scoffed quietly. "I would never have done anything to them - they just needed a little reminder of how to behave towards little girls, that's all."

"Little girls that have the last name of Queen?"

"Especially those little girls." He confirmed seriously.

"Oliver..." She groaned.

"You don't honestly think I would have hurt them, do you?" He asked, raising his brow.

She stared at him in silence for a few seconds and then sighed. "No, I don't think you would have hurt them."

"Okay...good. Look," He rose from his seat and walked around the desk to stand beside her, "Kids think that the Arrow is cool - someone to look up to. If their role model comes to them personally and tells them that what they're doing is wrong they are going to listen."

He took her hands in his, looking into her eyes intently. "My baby girl came out of that classroom looking terrified and when she started crying..." He shook his head and Felicity's face softened somewhat at that. "You know that I've softened ever since she was born, especially in regards to the Arrow and how he handles threats, but there is nothing I won't do when my family is threatened...even if that threat comes from five year old boys."

Her shoulders dropped slightly as she relaxed with a small sigh and linked her fingers with his. "I know. It just worries me when you do stupid things."

"Felicity..." He drew her closer by their entwined hands and a shiver ran down her spine at the velvety tone to his voice. It amazed her sometimes how she could still be so affected by him. "I knew what I was doing."

Her eyebrow lifted skeptically and he leaned down to quickly peck her lips and she tried not to melt in his arms but damn him, his warm, strong embrace was too much to stay mad at.

Her lips softened into a slight smile but she continued to shake her head. "You're ridiculous." She whispered and he smiled back at her, kissing her again, a little longer.

They were broken apart a few seconds later by the sound of quiet laughter bubbling out of one of the monitors on Oliver's desk.

They turned their attention towards the monitor on the far right of his desk which monitored the activity of Molly's playroom. The little blonde was currently interacting with one of the interns who had stopped in to play dolls with her.

"Look at her." Oliver's warm, soft voice said above her head and she looked up at him. He smiled down at her, "She's happy again. Isn't that all that matters?"

Her lips twitched up. "I hate when you're right." She leaned into kiss him again and then broke off, tapping his chest lightly.

"I've got to get back to work and so do you."

He nodded with a small sigh and reluctantly released her but smirked as he watched her walk away. She paused in the doorway, shook her head one last time, causing him to grin and then she left.

He walked back to his desk, taking a seat and glancing over to the monitor, smiling as he watched his daughter happily play for a few more minutes.

---

Oliver couldn't keep the smirk off his face as he walked in through the front door. He could hear the sounds of the TV playing cartoons from the living room and the occasional trickle of his daughter's melodic laughter. From the other direction, towards the kitchen he heard the sound of the sink running and the clattering of the evening dishes being cleaned.

He walked into the kitchen as quietly as possible, fully intending to sneak up on his wife at the sink.

He moved up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist and in response she only leaned back against his chest, her smirk matching his own. "Hello Oliver."

He chuckled softly, tightening his arms just a bit more. "I don't know how you do that."

"Years and years of practice." She replied, her smirk turning into a grin as she briefly turned her head to look at him.

"You do have that." He agreed and softly kissed her cheek.

"So everything is quiet in Starling tonight?" She asked as she placed another cleaned dish in the drying rack. "No five year olds to scare?"

"Ha-ha."

She grinned smugly, wiggling in his arms in triumph.

The smirk on his face however grew slowly. "Yeah everything is quiet...In fact, I spoke to Diggle."

She tensed in his arms, pausing briefly in her cleaning before returning to cleaning the dish in her hand, her smile fading but keeping an air of innocence about her. "Oh?"

"Mm-hmm and he told me something very interesting."

"And what was that?" She asked, trying to sound innocent but her voice shot up, a clear indication that she was in fact the opposite.

"He asked me if Molly's bullying problem was resolved okay and I thought, you know, that's funny because I hadn't talked to him about that at all. So I figured you must have told him. As it turns out, not only did you tell him, but you met him at the parking lot after he dropped off Sara, and asked him to have a little, slightly threatening, chat with our five year old bullies."

Felicity sighed heavily, placing the plate down into the sink and turning in his arms, narrowing her eyes at his smug expression.

"It was so not threatening! It was a nice little man to boys chat." She defended and his brow shot up incredulously.

"Oh really? Because Diggle told me by the time he was done with them those kids wouldn't be bothering her anymore."

She huffed. "That is only because they were previously terrified by some big oaf in a green hood shooting arrows at them."

"I didn't shoot arrows at them and I resent the oaf comment."

"Yeah...well...sometimes you are." She stuck her tongue out at him before returning to pick up the sponge and he laughed quietly.

"Hood or no hood, Diggle can be a very terrifying man when he wants to be."

"True." She nodded. "Which is why I asked him to be my reinforcements - so we could humanely talk some sense into the little brats. And why I didn't ask you - Mr. I Shoot Arrows At Children."

"I didn't shoot any arrows at them, for the last time! The arrow was way above their heads."

She threw him a look over her shoulder. "Not the point, Oliver." She then returned to scrubbing the dish in her hands, shrugging. "And you are so not allowed to be judging me, by the way. I was just protecting our daughter and I don't know if you've noticed but I'm not the most menacing creature on the planet."

"Well there are some mornings..."

She gasped, turning her body and flicking some soap at him.

He released her for a moment, stepping back to wipe the soap off his face, laughing as she glared him sourly.

He moved back in towards her, slowly wrapping his arms around her and she kept her eyes narrowed at him. "That was a joke, Felicity."

"But a very mean one." She tapped his nose with her soapy hands and his nose twitched in response.

He wiped it off on his shoulder and then pulled her in against his chest, nuzzling the side of her cheek and she tried to resist a smile.

"You know where I'm coming from though, now don't you? You used Diggle...I used-"

"Your menacing dark hood and arrows?"

"Yes." He rested his chin on her shoulder gently. "She's our daughter...I couldn't do nothing and to me, that seemed like the most effective method."

She hummed, leaning back against him, reaching her hand up behind her to touch his head. "You've been in that hood too long."

"Maybe...but you've got to admit that it worked."

She let out a quiet sigh. "It did." She said reluctantly and he smirked in response.

"Oliver?"

"Hmm?"

"Just promise me one thing..."

"What's that?"

She lowered her hands, grabbing his with hers and pressing them gently against the slight swell of her abdomen. "Promise me with this one you won't go into over the top protective father mode?"

He rubbed his hands over her belly. "Are you asking me not to protect our children?"

"No I am asking you not to frighten their classmates the second they start to get bullied - there are other, still effective methods of stopping a bully that won't get you arrested."

He scoffed. "It's been almost ten years Felicity and I've never been caught."

"Well horrifying children could be your ticket."

"Alright." He said. "No more threatening children in the Arrow suit."

"That's a promise?"

He inhaled sharply, pausing and she turned halfway giving him a stern look. He released his breath and smiled slightly. "Yes it's a promise."

She smiled in return and turned completely in his arms, winding her arms around his neck. "Thank you."

"Anything for you." He answered and they shared a smile before meeting each other's lips in a sweet kiss. She pushed herself on to her tip toes to push herself further into the kiss and he drew her even closer.

He hummed in contentment as her nails lightly scratched against the back of his head. His hands slid across her waist, one hand going to rest on her lower back, the other to rest on the swell containing their second child.

Felicity abruptly broke off the kiss, sliding her hands down to his chest, and biting her lip softly as he blinked down at her in question.

"Oh and Oliver there's one more thing..."

His brow furrowed and before he could ask, he heard a call from down the hall. "Daddy?"

He untangled himself from his wife, still keeping one arm around her, as he turned, hearing the rapid approaching footsteps of his daughter.

"Daddy, you're home!"

Oliver blanched as suddenly Molly appeared in the kitchen doorway with a dark green towel wrapped around her head and holding a clothes hanger.

He blinked at the little girl in shock. "I...ah, yes."

"Guess what Daddy? When I grow up I want to be the Arrow!"

Beside him, Felicity shook with suppressed laughter and she licked her lips, turning to look at him, her hand pressing into his chest lightly. "Did you hear that, Daddy? She wants to be the Arrow."

Oliver cleared his throat loudly. "Yes I-I heard."

Molly giggled as she then proceeded to use the hanger as a bow, pretending to shoot arrows and darting around in circles around the kitchen.

Oliver let out a quiet, halfhearted laugh for their daughter's sake, clenching his teeth together in an awkward smile as he watched her. "Okay." He said through clenched teeth, leaning in towards his wife. "I may have made a mistake."

Felicity let out a similar laugh, also saying through a clenched smile. "You think?" She looked up at him, raising her brow pointedly, as if to say "fix it."

He inhaled deeply, pressing his lips together, gently squeezed her side and then ran across the room toward his daughter.

She squealed in delight at the approach of her open armed father and ran out of the room, saying, "You'll never catch me!" with Oliver hot on her heels.

Felicity shook her head, her hand resting on her belly. "You know what, baby?" She rubbed her hand in small circles and smiled at the small flutters within from her unborn child. "Your Daddy is a piece of work."

Another squeal echoed from somewhere in the house followed then by Oliver's laughter and her smile widened. "But we love him don't we?"

She laughed to herself, feeling another small flutter from within and then turned back to the sink, listening to the sounds of her husband and daughter playing and knew she wouldn't trade this life for anything, as strange as it was.

#Show:Arrow #Ship:Olicity #Char:Oliver Queen #Char:Felicity Smoak

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