#❴ prompts ❵↬❛dead letters sent to dearest him❜

[gellertsbumblebee]

Terminal Illness AU Short Fic

short Grindeldore fic for @loyalgrindelwald  using prompt 44, Albus will be terminally ill. Warning:Gell commits...Not alive at the end, as he can’t bear to live without Albus, he does this via a potion he made, which is in his vest pocket in a black vial. Albus has been coughing blood for a very long time, he knows something is very wrong, so after he leaves Gell a letter, he gets examined at St. Mungo’s, Gell arrives. He finds the letter and reads it... “My dearest Gell:I have been coughing blood for a very long time, I’m worried this is a deadly disease, so I’m being tested at St. Mungo’s. Come if you want to, I won’t force you to. If it is a terminal disease, please be by my side in my final days and hours of life, I’ve left a ring for you on the desk, since I’m too sick to verbally propose to you, I’ll ask the question here:Gell, will you marry me? My final wish is for us to marry before I inevitably pass away. I’m sorry to leave you in such a way. Forever your man, Albus.” Gell sobs, but nods in response to the marriage proposal in the letter, putting the ring on his wedding finger. “Yes I’ll marry you, bumblebee.” After this Gell rushes to St. Mungo’s, the nurse has him wait in Albus’ room while he is being tested. Numerous tests are run on Albus, blood test, Brain scan, biopsies of his major organs, Albus starts gasping to breathe, so they put him on oxygen immediately, Albus takes deep breaths, his breathing eventually stabilizes. Albus is returned to his room where Gell waits for him. Many hours pass, the tests come back, his lung biopsy reveals a tumor, it was tested, sadly, the doctor tells them that Albus has Stage 4 Lung Cancer and that he only has a few weeks to live, he and Gell elope right away! “I’m sorry, Gell...I have stage 4 lung cancer, this means I only have mere weeks to live, they caught it too late, so chemo and radiation therapy won’t work.” Albus is released into Gell’s loving care, they apparate into Nurmengard, where Gell lays Albus in a hospital bed that he set up, they sent him home with tanks and masks of oxygen in case Albus starts to become breathless. Overnight, Albus becomes breathless, so Gell hooks him up to one of the oxygen tanks. “It’s all set, take deep breaths, bumblebee.” After taking many deep breaths, Albus is able to breathe again, he’s getting weaker every day, Gell remains by his side, he has quit his wizarding revolution due to his husband’s fatal cancer diagnosis. A few weeks pass, Albus stands up to walk, but passes out instantly, his pulse and breathing begin to weaken, Gell immediately attempts to save Albus by giving him CPR. The Qilin he has runs over carrying the AED in its mouth by the handle, it sets the AED beside Gell, who hooks the pads to the machine and uncovers them, this AED is automatic, so it turns on right away, he listens to the prompts, putting the pads on Albus’s chest as shown, the AED analyzes his heart rhythm, Gell’s hands aren’t touching him, he hears it say “Shock Advised,” then it prepares to shock Albus! “Everybody stand clear!” The shock is delivered, the AED tells him “Shock delivered, Continue CPR.” After 5 rounds of CPR and 4 shocks, Albus’ rhythm is Asystolic, he’s gone. “No, I couldn’t save you, my bumblebee...” He looks at the clock, it reads 2:35 AM. “Time of death:2:35 AM.” Gell lays Albus on the bed and lays beside him, cradling his lost bumblebee in his arms one last time, he then pulls out the black vial containing the potion that will kill him, breaking the seal... “I’m sorry Albus, I know you wouldn’t want me to do this, but...I must, I can’t live without you!” Gell downs the potion, then makes Albus look like he’s holding him, Gell closes his eyes and the potion takes effect, ceasing Gell’s breathing and heartbeat, he passes away seconds later, both he and Albus are ghosts now, but Albus’ spirit is giving Gell’s an angry look! “Why would you do this? You know I wanted you to live!” “I know, bumblebee, but I see no point in living if you’re dead, I wouldn’t be able to hug, hold and kiss you anymore. Now that we’re both etheral, we can hold, hug and kiss one another like we did when we were living, did you ever consider that...This was my final wish? For us to die together?” “I had no idea that us dying together was your final wish. I’m sorry for getting mad at you, Gell.” Gell holds Albus in his arms, the same warmth overcomes them, this warmth is what they felt each time they held the other in their arms when they were alive, their spirits kiss and hug, happy to be together forever at last. The end.

[nightblessed]

1 reVAMPed tag dumpー

[sarifinasnightmare]

Hey , it's me again. Can I get a combination of 24 and 1 from the arranged marriage prompts? And you already know I want Sarah bucky. Please if it's not too much to ask. And if you can't do a combination just 24 or 1 you pick.

Okay, @ivorylei this one was HARD because I wanted to keep it short. It'll be in three parts instead. I am so tired, so I'm going to bed now. 😴

I have Found Better (Chapter 1)

Warnings: Danger, Gun Violence, Possessive Behavior, Violence, Kidnapping, Possessive Sex

Alternate Universe - Steampunk (vaguely)

Alternate Universe - Royalty (yup)

The world discovered steam-powered machinery, science was no longer witchcraft and technology made the near impossible possible. Men and women of all nations sought educations that would lead them to be a part of the bright future before them. As countries adapted to the changes, wars and alliances were made. The Archduke James Buchanan Barnes of Pârâul (Romanian) and the Baroness Sarah Ríodorado (Moor Spain) had been promised from birth to be married. It had been partially to access trade and partially out of friendship. She was supposed to have been sent to Pârâul at the age of thirteen, so she’d become accustomed to the land and the court before being married to her intended at nineteen but just as she was being prepared for her journey, her sixteen-year-old groom went into battle and disappeared….

….Ten years had passed until he was found and when he was found he was not the same.

_________________---

Sarah watched the clouds float by as the dirigible flew her over to Pârâul, her stomach in nerves. She had not thought of her first intended for years and even though the families had been upset by the loss of the alliance these things happen. Heirs died unexpectedly, wars broke out, alliances fell apart, royal families were sacked-it happened. With all the inventions created the world had become more connected, more diverse, more mechanically driven and more dangerous. Adaptability was a must.

In ten years, she had been engaged and un-engaged four times over and now at twenty-three her first fiancé suddenly emerged from the dead, and his mother was eager to get her out there as fast as possible. Given the choice between an old Prince looking for a nursemaid/wife and the rediscovered Archduke, she quickly chose the former. Baron Samuel had his doubts but the alliance would be beneficial and economical, so he hugged his sister goodbye and promised to write to her often. However now as the airship sailed towards her new home she felt her misgivings grow.

The ambassador to Pârâul had come bearing a letter from the Grand Princess Winnifred, the mother of the Archduke that initially was welcoming but now smacked of desperation.

Dearest Sarah,

I hope this letter finds you and your family well. I wanted to assure you that the rumors are true and that my darling James has been found and returned to me. The Viscount Rogers never stopped searching for him and with the will of God, he brought him home. He was so ill when he came to us but now is doing better. Although my kingdom still has sweet Rebecca, everyone at court believes James should be married quickly and produce heirs. You know I have always been fond of you, and it must be God’s will that you are still free. It would put my heart at ease to have you come and fulfill the arrangement made a decade ago. The people and the court greatly desire your presence. James has been made aware of my choice and he is in agreement. The alliance will be honored, but the dowry need not come. A grand wedding is being planned and all arrangements for your stay have been made. Bring what you need, my dear. Our family eagerly awaits your inclusion to our home.

Sincerely,

Grand Princess Winnifred of Pârâul

The flight took three days and two layovers but once she arrived the greeting was as warm as promised. The Grand Princess and Duchess Rebecca greeted her as did the court who all seemed very happy to see her. Sarah behaved graciously but once alone with the family she finally asked.

“When will I meet the Archduke?”

Winnifred, a petite woman with iron gray hair and blazing blue eyes gave her a comforting smile. “In just a moment but I wanted to explain something to you.”

“What is it?”

“James had been captured by the enemy. He’d been tortured and changed to become their soldier….their assassin.”

Sarah frowned. “Has he been disfigured?”

Rebecca, a beauty of twenty-one shook her head. “Not facially, but his left arm-”

“Shush, Becca!” The older lady interrupted. “He is whole, but he is confused and needs a gentle hand which is why I asked you to be his bride. You’ve always been kind, patient and intelligent and he needs a wife who have those qualities in abundance.”

For a moment Sarah wondered what she had agreed to, but she’d soon find out. In a drawing room she was sent to finally meet James with Rebecca in attendance. First thing she saw was Viscount Rogers, his childhood friend but then she saw the Archduke.

His hair was dark and long falling loose over his face. The suit was a richly made black, trimmed in silver. Her eyes widen when she noticed that his entire left arm was of metal. The blue eyes that stared back at her seemed to reflect cold curiosity but little else. Vaguely she remembered him from childhood but she had to admit he was handsome in a beastly sort of way.

Sarah curtsied. “Archduke, I’m Baroness Sarah of Riodorado.”

James glanced at Steve who smiled encouragingly. “She’s going to be your wife. Treat her gently and be polite. You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore, you’re Archduke James Bucky Barnes.”

He didn’t know what to think. He’d been the Winter Soldier for Kaiser Johann and his doctor Zola but now he was a ruler. It was too much to take in but so far everyone had treated him nicely and there had been no pain, no blood, no screams. He had a mother and a sister and a friend who took great efforts to teach him who he’d been before, but it was difficult changing from a soldier to a lord. Lords commanded and received whatever they wanted, so it should not have surprised him when his mother gently suggested a companion; someone pretty and sweet to keep him company. He had glanced over the women of court, but they were all frightened of him. Unapproachable and unpredictable he’d been called. Yet now this beauty was before him seemingly unafraid; she was supposed to be his wife? He approached and studied her, dressed in an elegant yellow and lace dress, the bustle and corset accentuating her curves nicely. She looked…soft.

Sarah gasped when his hands cupped her face, and he moved in closer. Everyone jumped at the suddenness of his action. The curious gaze had deepened, and he appeared to be studying her, sizing her like a wolf about to pounce. She didn’t know whether to look away or fight him, so she wrapped her hands around his wrist and squeezed a little.

“Do you mean to kiss me, lord?” She whispered.

Her skin was soft and flawless; it seemed to have an inner glow that was pretty. Darkness usually meant cold but her brown eyes were warm, deep and inviting. A hunger seized him, and it made him want to take her, touch her, claim her. Pleasure curled around him and purred for more. Her lips were plump, moist and-

His lips were on hers and it caught her by surprise by how possessively he kissed. Determined not to be cowed by his dominance she kissed him back, her own tongue darting in the tease him and he seemed to approve, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her tight against him. A fire swept through her and she shivered in pleasure. Suddenly she was swept off her feet and it looked like he meant to carry her away somewhere.

Steve quickly stopped his friend. “Buck, you must marry her first. Put her down, she isn’t your wife yet.”

Rebecca quickly went to tug her brother’s arm. “Not yet Jamie. You have to say your vows first, put her down before you frighten her away.”

James looked over at Sarah who didn’t appear frightened just concerned. The kiss had been delicious and the pleasure felt wonderful flowing through his veins. Is that what came with having a wife? He must have more of that sensation. He’d only met her for a moment, but he knew he liked her and that he wanted her so frightening her away wasn’t what he wanted to do. Gently he set her back down.

Sarah smiled in thanks but the moment she was ushered out immediately sought the Grand Princess.

“What in the world happened to him? He just kissed me and meant to have his way with me right then and there!” She demanded. To be honest the kiss was delightful, and he was easy on the eyes, but questions still needed answers.

The elegant woman became genuinely upset and she burst into tears. “Forgive me! I didn’t mean to withhold the whole truth, but I am desperate to save my son.”

Through her tears she explained that James had been brainwashed to see himself as a soldier, to follow orders and do as he’s told. It took weeks to convince him that he was free from his oppressors and that Steve and everyone else were his friends not his handlers. He had been tortured and had terrible nightmares. The doctors believed he’d been isolated and that a gentle but firm companion could draw him out of the protective mental box he’d stored himself in. So far most of the ladies of the court had found him intimidating and aggressive.

“I thought of you…” Winnifred murmured. “…of your spirit and intelligence and I thought perhaps you’d be the one to bring back my son.”

“So I’m to be a nursemaid to a sick man.” Sarah sighed in exasperation. “Your Highness, I don’t know if I can be his savior.”

“Oh but you are! Look at how you reacted to him. You didn’t draw away! You’re braver than any lady at court. Is my son so repulsive? Please be honest.”

No, he wasn’t repulsive, in fact his kiss still made her lips tingle. “I’m flattered but-”

“Let me make a bargain with you, a promise. If he gets better then let the marriage stand, but if he doesn’t then just produce an heir. A boy or girl, it doesn’t matter. If he becomes a danger then I will guarantee your protection on the Cross, I swear!”

 Sarah decided to think about it, and she did, pondering the benefits of marrying a man who looked like an angel, kissed like the devil and needed care. Later a servant brought the contract with the Grand Princess’ signature and seal; all it needed was hers. Leaving it unsigned she went to prepare for bed. It was good to get out of the corset after a long day and felt much better in nightgown.

She was looking for her silk bonnet when her eyes caught a glint of metal and turned in surprise to see James suddenly in the room! Looking for her robe, she went to grab it and put it on only for him to stop her.

When she hadn’t come back, he’d become anxious and wanted to find her. Steve assured him she was still in the palace but it wasn’t enough to soothe him so he went on the hunt. Fortunately, she wasn’t too far away and even better, she was barely dressed. Pulling her back into his arms again, he kissed her once more.

God, he was really good at this, she thought, as she wrapped her arms around him. Again, he swept her off her feet and carried her to the bed. He laid her down gently and hovered for a moment, admiring before swooping down for more.

Sarah briefly wondered if she ought to just let it happen but could already hear the disapproving voices in her head. He was gorgeous with his long hair over his face, and she felt the first stirrings of desire, but she had to be a good girl. Gently she drew their lips apart. “James, stop.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Because I’m asking you to respect my boundaries. I’m not ready to be intimate with you yet, so please stop.”

She firmly pushed him back and he sat up, obedient. “Have I done something wrong?”

“Not yet.” She said soothingly. “I just got here and I’m tired. You seem very enthusiastic, and I like that, but tradition demands that we get married before we do anything more. If we get caught I will be in trouble and sent out of the palace.”

His gaze went cold. “I don’t want you to go away.”

“Good and neither do I.” She surprised herself by saying that. “Can we talk a little instead? Before I sleep?”

He nodded and so they talked. She spoke of her family in her country or her likes and dislikes. He revealed the carnage he’d unleashed as the Winter Soldier. It was frightening, but he seemed sad about it, and she felt pity for him. What had happened to the sixteen-year-old youth to make him such a hard-edged soldier? What torture and abuse had he been subjected to? She asked him if he was glad to be free and he said that he was, but it was lonely and the nightmares were terrible.  He was damaged without a doubt, but he was also good at heart, eager to know her and seemed determined to do better. She liked the way he looked at her too with his blue eyes tracing over her and delighting in every peek of skin her nightgown allowed him. The way his tongue darted out to lick his lips made her shiver and truly she wondered if she could find better or handsomer than her first betroth? She kissed him gently and urged him back to his bed and was pleased when he offered no protest.

The next morning, she signed the contract. It may all end in disaster, but maybe not. He intrigued her and she couldn’t resist.

________________---

To Be Continued...

[contreparry]

OK but the Scarlet Pimpernel prompts... Person A: How could you be so rude?! Person B: To [Person C]?Person A: He was a guest in my home. Person B: An unworthy guest. The man is suspected of selling secret information to the [enemy] government. Person A: Then why haven’t you arrested him? Person B: Because, my dear, he also sells secret information about the [enemy] to us.

Absolutely! Here's some Cassandra and Leliana discussion about Varric for @dadrunkwriting! It's a bit edited to fit the setting, but I hope the sentiment remains the same.

"That was rude, Leliana. Quite unlike you," Cassandra remarked as Leliana exited the room. "Whatever did he do to deserve such scorn?"

The interrogation wasn't the bombastic one Cassandra subjected the man to. There was no tossing of books, no slamming of hands on tables, no smug, handsome men grinning up at her and then propping their damned feet on the table before spinning fanciful tales that twisted just enough truth into what had to be lies- no. No, Leliana was very different. Quiet. Blunt. And, for Leliana, incredibly rude.

("Either you have managed a Ferelden-born group of agents sent to Kirkwall to deliberately destabilize the region, or you have terribly rotten luck, Messere Tethras. I would not be so at ease in your situation," Leliana said as she casually picked at the non-existent dirt underneath her nails with a slim dagger.

"Simplest explanation is often the closest to the truth, y'know. My luck holds with cards and little else, I'm afraid," Messere Tethras replied.)

"Oh, Messere Tethras?" Leliana said casually as she slipped her dagger back into the sheath in her boot. "Whatever do you mean, dearest Cassandra?"

"He is an important... guest. And we are his... hosts," Cassandra struggled with the wording. There was no Viscount ruling Kirkwall, only a small group of nobles and bureaucrats keeping the candles alight and pushing around paperwork. The Grand Cleric was dead. Knight Commander Meredith Stannard was now a lump of crystal. In short, the Chantry held little sway over Kirkwall. They had little authority here, even if they were Divine Justinia's Hands. And Tethras, damn him, knew exactly how much power all of them had and was playing a clever, if deadly, game.

"And he is a terrible guest, suspected of working with foreign governments to take over a city-state," Leliana said easily. "And he's selling information to Maker knows who." There was a thread of irritation in Leliana's voice, a little hint of her genuine frustration at being unable to track down Varric Tethras' correspondence. He wrote frequently and to many, many people scattered across Thedas. It would take an army to sort the web of letters out, let alone track them and the recipients down. They didn't have an army, and Varric Tethras knew that.

"And you haven't arrested him. Why not?" Cassandra asked, mostly to make conversation but partially out of curiosity. Leliana was clever, and far more patient than Cassandra ever was. If there was a way to keep Tethras pinned until they could unravel this entire plot, she would have done it by now. And yet they waited. They lingered. Leliana listened and conversed and dragged Cassandra in to speak with Tethras and get her riled up and confused by gilded tongues and honey sweet lies (had to be lies, who could believe that one person could withstand all those storms for so, so long). And for what? But Leliana laughed.

"Because, my dear Cassandra, he is also selling information to us," she replied.

[hd-hurtfest]

Hurt!Fest Week Four Roundup

Andddd it’s time for our final Hurt!Fest weekly roundup! We’ll post a full fest roundup tomorrow, then reveals on October 15th. Just a reminder that we’ll only be including Major Archive Warnings for brevity’s sake, so please remember to check the additional tags on the AO3 page for each work with care. Happy hurting!

Week Four Roundup

When It's All Over | 9k | M | rape/non-con | If killing you makes Harry happy, you really don't mind.

Disjointed heart | 21k | M | Draco tries to take control over his life whenever he can. He does whatever is best for him. He protects himself in ways his parents didn’t protect him. He tries to minimise the discomfort he feels by avoiding most people, by covering himself up, creating barriers and putting up walls. Maybe he has lost himself in it all. Maybe he never really knew who he was in the first place.

Call Me by Your Name (And I'll Call You by Mine) | 35k | M | major character death | ‘My dearest Harry, because no matter how far we are, even two different worlds apart, I can never tell where you end and I start.’ Draco never expected Potter to find his way back to his life, especially after seven years of no contact, but here he was. With Potter's will in his hands, his own name written in that untidy scribble he recognized anywhere, Draco had to accept this was his time to reopen an old wound, revisit painful memories, and relearn everything he thought he knew about his past.

Taro Milk Tea with a side of Depression | 1k | M | Draco sat through twenty grievous minutes of Ministry-mandated group therapy for Newly Registered Magical Beings & Creatures — then promptly stormed out.

A Nightmare Waiting to Happen | 22k | E | graphic depictions of violence | ‘Draco sat beside Harry's bed as the man breathed deeply; his eyes were moving rapidly beneath his eyelids, and every so often, he would twitch or part his lips. Draco couldn’t imagine what was going on in Harry’s mind, but he clutched his husband’s hand, wishing he could take his place, do anything to help.’ Harry Potter is cursed into a nightmare-verse—escaping one nightmare only causes him to fall deeper through the layers of his subconscious—will he be able to free himself, or will his deepest fears swallow him whole?

Nothing's as it seems | 18k | E | Harry Potter's world had been turned upside down more than once in his life, but with Draco Malfoy, he knew he had found a love that was rare and true. Harry had found his happy ending. It wasn't to be. All it took to ruin his life was a few lines in The Daily Prophet.

Letters he never sent | 6k | M | Harry thinks too much about Draco and whenever the feelings get too strong, he writes him a letter where he puts inside everything he feels and can’t say out loud. Of course, none of those letters are sent, ever… but one.

On the last day | 53k | E | graphic depictions of violence | Draco is still mourning the recent loss of his mother when the Wizarding World is struck with the tragic news of Harry Potter’s untimely death. It’s just his luck that Potter not only comes back as a ghost, but seems intent on haunting Draco as he’s the only one that can see him. It’s a race against time to retrace the last few days of Potter’s life in order to find his body before he’s lost to the living or spiritual realm forever. On their journey, they’ll uncover secrets, betrayals, and a horrific truth that will disrupt both the living and the dead.

Closure is a state of mind | 12k | E | After Harry's husband Charlie is killed, his Mind Healer recommends a Polyjuice therapy company, so Harry can see 'Charlie' again and find closure over his death. Draco, whose life over the last ten years has gone from bad to worse, gets assigned Potter's case.

Melancholic Moonlight | art | T | Prompt: Draco has been bitten by a werewolf. He keeps it a secret, thinking if he just locks himself in his home nothing bad will happen. He hadn't thought Harry would come over that night...

If an Injury Is to Be Inflicted | 44k | E | graphic depictions of violence | ‘If an injury has to be done to a man it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared.’ Harry Potter disappeared a year after the Battle of Hogwarts, and with him went all hope for true change in magical Britain. Three years later, Draco indulges himself and attends his first Dog Fight—the infamous underground fights with no rules, no referee, and no points system bar blood on the floor. The game was simple: you win, or you die. A glint of green amidst the blood-red changes everything.

[thebmatt]

FFXIV Write 2021 Prompt #9: Friable

Word count - 1550

Friable – easily crumbled.

“Makoto, what’s going on? Why are we at this random warehouse?”

Makoto briefly stopped as she walked down the offices. She didn’t like lying to her girlfriend, but it wasn’t the right time yet to tell her the full truth. “You’ll….you’ll see, Fearless. Please, just trust me.”

“I do trust you, you know that. Oooh, is this a secret midday rendezvous?” Fearless’ voice became sultry. “Dilapidated office, eh? Didn’t know you’d be into this kinda thing. I like this side of you!”

Makoto giggled, in spite of her apprehension. “No, no, my love! We’re not here for that! Just…through here, please.” She gestured to a door.

Fearless opened it. Inside was a conference room, occupied simple table, chairs, and two miqo’tes seated at them. “Well well, Ranaa and Rheika? Okay, clearly not a midday rendezvous. So uh….why exactly are we all here?”

Ranaa Mhigo, her other girlfriend, stood up to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She was attired in casual Hingan dress. The blue tones matched well against her darker skin tone, Fearless noted. She’d have to remember this shade when buying her gifts.

Ranaa quickly embraced Makoto, and then she gestured for Fearless to sit in the chair opposite Rheika, dressed in one of her shinobi outfits. She and Makoto sat in the chairs that were flanking her.

Rheika smiled. “Heya hon.”

“Hiya, Rheika.” Fearless replied. She looked between the other two women. “You uh…wanna tell me what I’m doing here? What we’re all doing here? Why are you in Kugane anyway, I thought you were busy coordinating with the Bozjans?”

Rheika waved her off. “Things are currently cooled off there. Gave me a chance to deal with another matter. Remember those mercenary gangs that kept coming after you every so often?”

“The ones my parents kept sending after me? Of course I do. But they stopped. The last one was that Ala Mhigan outfit, right after the liberation. They confessed when they realized I was a Warrior of Light and said they would tell them they couldn’t find me. Why, did something happen?”

Rheika nodded. “A few days ago, Makoto’s people stumbled onto evidence that a mercenary group called the Emerald Marauders had arrived in Kugane in secret. Nasty bunch operating out of the fringes of the Shroud. She brought in a few of their people, and they confessed under interrogation that they’d been hired to retrieve someone. Someone that matched an old description of you.”

Fearless stood, slamming her hands onto the table. “Did they say where the rest of them are? We have to take them down, I’m not letting these scum-“

Rheika held her hands up “Hold on, let me finish, girl.”

Fearless sat down, but the determined and angry look on her face didn’t go away.

“The Sekiseigumi raided the warehouse they gave up. This warehouse, actually. The Marauders….did not go quietly. You can imagine how things went down. The Sekiseigumi killed them all”

Fearless turned to Makoto “Did anyone get hurt? Please tell me no one died!”

Makoto smiled lovingly at her. She would never stop being in love with her and her caring heart. “No, my love. A few minor wounds, nothing our healers couldn’t handle.”

Fearless sighed in relief, then turned back to Rheika. “All right. What happened next?

Rheika continued on. “After everything went down, they started going through the papers the mercs had left behind. They found copies of letters…sent to your parents. Ones that told them everything about you. What you’d done as a Warrior of Light, what you were capable of, and worst of all, who you lived with. These people knew you were in love with two women, and they passed that information back to your parents.”

Fearless gripped both of her girlfriends hands. “Oh, Twelve. If they decide leak that…”

Rheika shook her head. “Not good. But they also got greedy. They tried to shake your parents down for more money. Claimed that you were too tough and had too many allies for them to risk it at the previous fee. They demanded double.”

“Doesn’t matter how much they ask for, cause thei diots were never going to collect.” Ranaa snarled.

“They also found a reply from your father. Among a whole lot of language calling their claims about your deeds and strengths nothing more than lies, it was also full of veiled threats, and a notice that he was coming to Kugane to personally oversee your capture. He told them the exact day and time to expect him….and it was the afternoon of the same day as the raid”

Fearless looked confused. “Wait…my father is already here? When was this raid??”

Makoto gently squeezed her hand. “It was yesterday, dearest. And we….already handled it”

“What do you mean?? What…what happened?”

Rheika leaned forward. “Makoto called me. She wanted our help dealing with your father without endangering anyone in the city. So Franks, Dahk, and I teleported to the city and we quickly threw a plan together. I’d pose as a member of the Marauders, tell your parents we found out about their leader’s attempt to extort more money from them, and got rid of him and took over the crew. It worked, he bought it. Your mother was there too.”

Fearless’ grip tightened around her girlfriends’ hands, but she didn’t respond. Rheika continued.

“I brought them here, where we had the rest of ‘the marauders’, actually Franks, Dahk, and members of the Sekiseigumi. I separated them from most of their bodyguards to discuss the final plan to capture you, and we took them all down.”

“I gave your folks a choice, sweetie. I told them they were going to leave you alone, permanently. They could do so of their own volition, and never bother you again, or they could refuse and the Sekiseigumi would find them guilty of smuggling weapons into Kugane intended for the Garleans and bar their company’s ships from docking here. I’d recommend the Eorzean Alliance do the same.”

She folded her hands in front of her face, and closed her eyes. “Honestly, I fully expected it would provoke some kind of emotional reaction.Like….maybe faced with the real choice of giving you up forever or having their business ruined, they’d have some kind of epiphany and start to make amends. Maybe scream threats or whatever. But…they didn’t. They just crumbled. Gave up in the face of the loss of their business. I was shocked.”

Rheika reached over and covered Fearless’ hands. “Twelve, honey, I really don’t want to tell you this, but I don’t feel right keeping it from you. Your mom….she said ‘Syhrwyda is dead to us’. I remember being so angry, I wanted to just punch her. Instead I threw it back in her face. Said that ‘Syhrwyda’ died a long time ago, and the woman who rose from her ashes was someone they should have been proud of, and it was disgusting that they wouldn’t be.”

Makoto smiled at Fearless. “The exact words Rheika used were ‘confident, kindhearted, caring, and strong’.”

Rheika chuckled “Yeah, okay, that. Well it’s true. You are all of that. And they’re idiots for not realizing it. Or caring. Anyway, yeah, that’s the whole story. We wanted to tell you together, but we had to wait until Ranaa was available for us to bring her up to speed. Didn’t want to hit you and her with this at the same time.”

Fearless glanced over to Makoto, her face hurt. “Why would you not bring me in? Why keep me out of it until now?”

“I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t know how they would react upon seeing you. We felt it was best to keep you out of the situation so we could best control how and when we would stop them. You and I both know you wouldn’t have accepted that, and would place yourself at risk rather than us.”

Fearless looked down again. “No, I probably wouldn’t have. And yeah…you were right. You stopped them without risking any civilians or getting anyone seriously hurt.”

Ranaa wrapped her arms around Fearless’ bicep. “How…how are you doing, baby?”

Fearless turned to her and smiled. “You know what? I’m fine. I’m actually great. Honestly it feels really good knowing it’s over. They never cared what I want, I’m not surprised they didn’t believe what I’ve become, what I’ve done. I was nothing but another tool for them to use. Well, they haven’t been able to hurt me for a long time, and now they can’t ever again. So yeah, I’m good. Honestly? Thank you all for getting them out of my life. You guys are the only family I want or need. So, hey, ramen lunch on me!”

Fearless stood up, smiling, and held out her arms for her girlfriends to take. They both looked over to Rheika, who nodded happily. Ranaa and Makoto stood up and took her arms, and the quartet left the office to enjoy a lovely lunch together.

That evening, Fearless lay in bed at her home in Shirogane, quietly weeping as her lovers held her, stroking her hair and murmuring soothing sounds. Although she was not surprised by this outcome, the finality of that severed bond would likely always be a dull ache as time passed.

[joonsdiary]

𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝒕𝒂𝒆𝒉𝒚𝒖𝒏𝒈

a regency au that absolutely nobody asked for. (please pray for my countless untouched wips that will never see the light of day.) rated e for extreme fluff with a slight hint of humour, because what else is new around here. blame this kim taehyung for the existence of this drabble. 1,870 words. enjoy!

     “Another correspondence,” your sister whispered in the dead of night, candlelight gently flickering against the bronze of her skin. You laid still against the silk of your sleeping clothes, underneath the warmth of your cotton quilts, unsurprised by her quiet outburst into your shared room. Her eyes met yours and at that moment you wished nothing more than to be buried six feet well below the ground, sleeping amongst the worms and maggots and ants alike—

“Would you like me to read it for you this time?”

—and be rid of this world once and for all. What joy that would bring you. It’s quite the dramatic disposition, as your mother would often point about yourself, but an understandable one, nevertheless. Because it had the faintest of truth in it: You’d rather die than face the embarrassment of possible rejection.

The floorboards creaked as she moved to place the chamberstick on the bedside before making room for herself beside you, tucking her legs neatly beneath her. You have an inkling as to who he might be, but your heart assured you that it wasn’t the person you’ve been desperately waiting for—the one whose disapproval would possibly shred your heart pieces. In hindsight, you should have known better than to place your trust in a man. No matter how handsome they might present themselves, they’re all the same.

“Is it Sir Jeon again?”

Jeon Jungkook was an esteemed young bachelor, no less. The grandson of a wealthy colonel, who owns a large estate in the next town over. But his reputation precedes him as a ladies’ man through and through, having asked the hands of several women in marriage, only to break the arrangement before nightfall. He’s been the same tireless charade for the past summer months, and you happen to be the unfortunate target that has caught his unwarranted attention.

Yes, he might bear more money that you will be able to comprehend, but you refused to allow yourself to be the next name stricken in his long list of women.

“What if it is?” she gave you a playful grin and a soft push on the shoulder. “Will you finally say yes?”

“I’m not vapid, sister. My answer hasn’t changed in the twenty-four hours since he last sent his letter.”

“Rumour has it that he hasn’t pursued anyone for this long.”

“So that’s what this is then, a challenge to him,” you rose from your position, pulling the covers tight against your body. “Then he’ll tire of this charade before the parchment’s ink runs dry.”

“Will you not at least entertain his company?”

“Was the dance he persuasively requested from me at the ball not enough amusement for him?” you said, exasperated.

“You have to admit, he can be quite the dancer,” she marvelled, eyes mooning in obvious adoration.

“He stepped on my foot twice,” you said wryly.

“To which he apologized for, both in person and in the last three letters he sent.”

“You can read the letter if you so desire,” the softness of the bed welcomed you back into its warmth as you made space for her. “I’m tired and I wish to sleep.”

“Tired from what, playing the pianoforte all day?” she mocked, sighing when you don’t reply with your usual banter. You rolled to your side, facing away from her, unsure if she heard your quip: What else am I to do with my time? It’s not like I can take the horse and ride it to where he is.

The sound of paper rustling echoed against the silence of the room as the bed moved, and you could only picture her holding the letter against what little luminance the candle provided. She didn’t say anything for a while and you concluded that the contents remained the same as Sir Jeon’s previous ones: The tactless You are the lucky maiden bestowed the chance to meet me once more along with your beauty outshines even the moon herself. He’s not quite Shakespeare, but reading what he wrote allowed you an insight into the inner workings of his mind and how he managed to rope in so many women in such a short period of time. Flowery words carefully crafted by The Hedonist himself; only a fool would cave in to such whims and a fool you were not.

She suddenly gasped, and you turned just in time to see her hand as it slowly went and covered her lips in apparent astonishment.

“What is it? Has he asked me to wed him?” you mused, half in jest. Her eyes moved back and forth, scanning each and every letter meticulously. “Well?”

“I feel as though I’m being intrusive by reading something that’s not meant for me,” she turned to the next page and glanced it over quickly before pushing the papers into your hands.

“That hasn’t stopped you before,” you sighed and slid up the headboard. The expression she wore made you somewhat fearful—just what nonsense had Jeon Jungkook written this time around?

You prepared yourself for the worst as you took a deep breath.

           Dearest Flower—

The introduction already had you rolling your eyes to the ends of the earth. You continued, nonetheless, but not before noting the difference in handwriting.

          I hope this letter finds you in good health. I am aware that I promised to write to you immediately after our encounter, which is still engraved deeply in my mind, never to be forgotten. That evening, you held countless stars in your eyes that twinkled at every quiet giggle — I am still stunned that I was able to pull a burst of enchanting laughter from your lips, as I am told by my confidants that humour is not my forte. Were you being too generous, perhaps, inflating a weak man’s ego like you had done mine? I can only imagine that you permit no one else to see the beauty hidden beneath your smile but me, selfish as that may sound. 

“Did he really pen this, Sir Jeon?” you wondered audibly. Your sister begged for you to read the rest aloud, and you relented. “There isn’t a dreamless night that goes by where I do not see your face the moment I lay and close my eyes. You’ve bewitched me, Dearest Flower.”

You paused to glance at your sister, who merely motioned for you to continue reading the letter. She wore an almost-teasing grin as the apples of her cheek rose to meet the corner of her eyes.

“You must know that I am writing this against the unspoken will that binds me in the hands of my cousin. I know you are aware, as most people in the town are presumably, that he has been charmed by your unwavering wit, as have I. When he made it known to me — his longing for you — I knew I had to step back and hand him the reins. For how could I possibly compete with him?”

Your heart galloped against your chest at the sudden realization, and with bleary eyes, you read the next words with a different perspective than you had previously.

“Therefore I want you to know that I write this without the knowledge of your affection; only with the cautious optimism that you do not share the same feelings as he has for you. I am once again reduced to nothing else but greed with soaring hopes that you have cast away the letters he has written you. If by chance I am mistaken and have disillusioned myself with such thoughts, I shall suffer in endless affliction with the knowledge that I should have reached out sooner and without fear.”

With heat slowly rising to your cheeks, you turned the page over to the next and continued.

“If there is still but a tiny amount of chance for me, then I can only assume you’ll read this letter in its entirety. But please know that I will assume no ill will if you choose not to entertain my company. I have been fortunate enough to receive your hand in what will be your final dance that evening, so the least I could wish for is a lasting impression.”

Gone was your wistful feeling of dreaded rejection, replaced by pure, unadulterated bliss. You cleared your throat, and with bated breath, you proceeded.

“However, if your desire is the same as mine, then I would like for us to meet with no one else’s company but yours and mine. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire you, and there is not a single waking moment where I do not yearn to get another glimpse of your captivating eyes. Perhaps much longer than fate allowed us to the last time.

“I will be waiting in the garden by the old church just before the day breaks. If your heart truly doesn’t belong to Jungkook, or anybody else by then, come indulge in my endeavour. For I bear no intention other than to shamelessly claim your heart as mine for keeps.

“With love and devotion, Kim Taehyung.”

Your sister squealed in delight, much to your chagrin, possibly waking the entire household. Your horrors were confirmed when you heard the padded footsteps of your mother along the hallway, prompting you to shove the letter underneath your pillow. By the time you placed your hand in her mouth at an attempt to silence her, she’d already knocked at your door before it promptly opened.

Hair dishevelled and unkempt, she asked, clearly displeased, “What in god’s name are you both up to this late at night, disturbing everyone’s sleep?”

“We thought we—uh—saw a rat. She just got a little spooked, is all.”

Your mother narrowed her eyes at you, then your sister, who nodded belatedly in agreement.

“From countless years of witnessing your shenanigans, do you think I’m easily fooled?”

The tension in your mother’s brow eased as she chuckled, shaking her head. You released your sister from your clutches as your mother approached. She bent over to dispel the lights from the room, and you welcomed darkness as you blinked it into familiarity.

“Stop wasting candlesticks and turn in for bed now.”

You willingly followed her instructions and quickly felt underneath the pillow for the presence of two parchments. Renewed with a sense of promise tomorrow will bring, you closed your eyes as the door clicked shut.

At the faded echoes of your mother’s foot carrying her away to your room, your sister whispered, “Will you meet with him?”

For once, your heart and mind are in synchrony, humming the tune of an acquainted melody.

A short pause before a confident, “Yes,” escaped your lips.

You vowed not to be persuaded by the fragrant sentiments a gentleman presents because all too often they stay like that: Mere words, unaccompanied by actions. But from the moment he plucked you out of the sea of women that vied for his attention, you knew you’d willingly sway in any direction he guided you — as long as it’s within his arms.

If a fool was what became of you from this correspondence alone, then you’ll wilfully submit to becoming town’s jester.

[julies-butterflies]

I must admit, sometimes I do feel like a ye olden solider, sending letters to my beloved across the waves during wartime. Oh my dearest Lydia, I hope the kudos and comments crops have been plentiful this season. Your last letter left me weeping. Why must you put poor Reginald through such pain?

(I gotta admit, I still can't believe that I'm talking to you. I've been looking up to your work for so long...it just feels a bit surreal, even now! Glad you like hearing my ramblings! And that you liked my vampire prompt! Did not realize you'd write back when I sent that in. Look at us now, huh?)

(Speaking of prompts, I sent those jukebox and willex ones too. And I loved them both so so much, I shall scream about them more when it is not 2 am because I need sleep)

(Oh and the update of If I Was You!!! Amazing, Stellar, Incredible, Reggie, Carrie, Julie shenanigans is my new favorite thing, DID YOU JUST DOUBLE THE CHAPTER COUNT, and I'm like 90% sure Trevor is in deep trouble with a certain angry jazz ghost. Seriously loving it)

I actually do not remember what it was like to send in 1/5 asks, because I did not get a Tumblr until very reccently! I've always been a nerdy person, but Jatp is my first time being really in a fandom. You gotta do something new in quarantine, right?

Ah yes. Luke and Emily. To me, it just seems obvious that there's so much love between them. Even with all the pain. You get it. You put it down so eloquently.

As for what kind of stories I like to read...it seriously depends on my mood.

I like niche aus, passion projects. Stories where you can just feel the author's love for the world they're inventing. But I tend to lean towards cannonverse. I like ghost stories, it's what drew me to this show in the first place. And I love exploring that concept. (Being forever gone, and always the same...it's just fascinating to me)

Platonic goodness is just WONDERFUL for this show. I will read anything with cuddles. I am touched starved and these kiddos are too, and I will cry about them puppy piling every damn day. Plus there's just some much POTENTIAL for future friendships! I love ones where Flynn and Carrie get to interact with the boys as well. And 90s content, from before and after the orpheum, just hits hard.

I really wasn't expecting to get invested in the couples on this show, but something about them is moving to me. So I do love to read about them. Watching two queer kids who lived during incredibly important areas of queer history find love together after death really hit hard for me, and there's just something so bittersweet about a girl and ghost deciding to love each other for the little time they're given.

I love family dynamics too. Anything with Ray and his seven disaster children, the band and Trevor.... I think Julie and Emily is one of my favorite dynamics to explore. A girl who lost her mother and a mother who lost her son, both grieving but with one able to speak to the dead...it's just very powerful to me.

(And of course, Luke and Emily, but I figured you already knew that)

Mostly...I like seeing the messy stuff. The unexpected consequences, the baggage. I want to see the messy emotions, the grief and anger, the jealously, the disorientation. I look for those glass shards, that might be too sharp to ever be addressed on the show. Not even the big, monumental plot lines just... the harder pieces of life, the little moments that don't fit neatly into a nine episode arc.

I just want to see them live you know? Love, laughter and loss all mixed together.

(One of my all time favorite tropes is "found family gets broken apart by trauma, only to find each other again and come back stronger than ever." I feel like this explains a lot of my taste in fiction)

Thank you for the writing advice. Your words were very motivating. I am trying to begin! I got up the nerve to start working on a little piece. Who knows if it will go anywhere. But it's been nice, to finally put some words on the page.

The POTC au is so freaking good man. The character dynamics are just on FIRE. Everything is broken and messy and the relationships genuinely tug at my heartstrings. It's such a fascinating story. Highly recommend, even with the cliff hangers.

OH HOW COULD I FORGET PAWPRINTER? Man oh man I love all her work. The wheelies art and steals universe is freaking amazing, not an avacado had me in tears (of laughter, till things got surprisingly sad). And All that Remains...slow burn Willex perfection. Jedi Alex and Pilot Willie have my HEART.

I don't think I've read firefall and weneedglitter (or if I have, I'm just not connecting the names to their pieces. I don't always remember author names. it's a problem). I will go look for them though! Cannot wait!

For more recs, I recently binge read We Found Wonderland. I was not mentally prepared for the sheer amount of feelings that gave me. Highly recommend, if you ever want an emotional rollercoaster with an incredibly satisfying end.

Going on to more serious subjects...I'm sorry your family doesn't see your grief for what it is: honest. Better to feel everything quietly, than make it an easily understadnable performance. Fake grief is so easy to spot.

I think of that scene from "Forever," when Buffy breaks down and tells Dawn that she has to keep busy, because if she stops, it means Joyce is really gone. There's a lot of truth there.

On a tangent here but.. there was a very long period in my life when I was told the ways I expressed my emotions were "incorrect". And I found that sometimes, no matter how you show your emotions, you'll always be criticized. Numbness can be called disinterest, but sobbing can be called attention-seeking too. Too big, too small: that jury was impossible to please This may not apply in your situation but...it's okay to feel however you can. It's the only think you can do, really.

As I've said before, Grief is such an odd trickster.

Don't you ever get tired of missing people... This past year, I've been so weary of grief. Sometimes it can be so sharp, but it's that dull ache. That ball and chain, no longer cutting through your skin, but rubbing it raw, weighing you down.

And people don't like to talk about that part, because it's long and tiresome, but oh, is it there. I find it hard to talk about my grief, because sometimes there's just so much of it. I could drown in it, and that fear keeps me from looking to close. To incorrectly quote Jane Austin: "If I missed you a little less, I might be able to talk about it more."

(Sometimes it's faceable. But sometimes you just can't bear it. And that's okay.)

But what you wrote in that eulogy...the love is there. It's in every word you write. I cried reading that section. I feel honored once again to see some of your jagged pieces. You're sharing your heart, and there's just so much love.

In the wise words of an author I know, "Love is like the snow Reggie. It never goes away."

And don't worry, I'm always with you.

Sending Love,

-LydiaStan7845 (aka Vampire Anon)

So...that Reggie and Nicky prompt

my god

my GOD

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

I think it's safe to say congrats, you've officially destroyed me! I was not prepared for that at ALL. I should know better by now I guess.

I can't get over that even though they all take place in very different universe, all your stories just feel so connected! The way this talked about those headphones, which you mentioned in the first chapter of Kill Your Heroes...it's just so cool. All the characterization and backstory is just so well thought out, and it genuinely blows my mind.

I didn't think I could love Nicky Peters more. I was wrong. The way you write about him...even though you never go into exactly what happened to him after Reggie's death, you can just feel how much it's shapped him as a person. And the trauma around his father, and how he fears becoming like that, was just so beautifully written. He's just so lovable and flawed and trying so damn hard and you made my heart ache for him. Again.

You always take these genuinely crazy situations and...you just make them feel so real. I love you explore the strains such a revelation would put on Nicky's own life, it just makes everything so compellingly messy. It seriously feel like I was watching a real-life account of a family trying to deal with such a massive complication.

That porch scene had me in tears both times I read it. Reggie's just always a big brother, even though Nicky is more than twice his age now. My heart was shattered, and then you slowly mended it, piece by piece. And for absolutely no reason at all, you wouldn't happen to have a reference for the porch, would you?

Just wow. Hope you're doing well. Sending love and applause

-Vampire Anon

i’m not even gonna reply, but i want these documented... on my blog... for posterity.  ( for any curious onlookers, i’m dating this anon now!! )

[findmeinpops]

FindMeInPops’ 12 Days of Ficmas: Day One - Pen Pals

I’ve actually tried to post this twice already today but it keeps glitching? I don’t why but hopefully third time’s the charm 🤞🏻.

It’s that time of year again where I try to pump out a drabble or one-shot for each of the twelve days leading up to Christmas! I have a couple already written but some of them will be written by prompt and on request - I have a prompt list that I’ll reblog now, if you want to take a look - so bare with for any editing errors! Enjoy, my loves, and have a happy festive season :)

And a quick fyi for those who prefer AO3, my 2019 12 Days of Christmas collection is at this link and should be uploaded with an hour of this being posted.

Prompt: Two friends have exchanged letters since a childhood letter exchange program and one delivers their Christmas letter in person this year

Ship(s): Cheryl Blossom x Toni Topaz

Rating: T

CW(s): reference to child abuse (not detailed)

‘Dear Cheryl,

Merry Christmas, gorgeous! At least, I hope this will get to you before Christmas. Can you believe that we have now been speaking for seven years… It seems like yesterday that I sent the first letter. Eleven year old me had no idea that that one letter could lead to the best friendship that she would ever experience.

Right now I am actually sat at the table in my trailer, it’s not very warm, what with the snow beginning to fall, but I managed to get hold of an old oil heater from a garage sale which helps somewhat. If it gets too bad, Jughead and Betty have me to stay with them for a while but I feel bad with taking up their spare rooms when there are Serpents more in need of it than me. Once I’ve written this I’m heading to the Whyte Wyrm for the Christmas party, they often have a fire going so I can hide in the warmth there for a little while.

How’s the new house? At least it’s big so you don’t have to interact with your mom too much. As for a job, you could try a local corner store or bar, at least until you’ve got a little money under your belt.

I’ll be having a similar Christmas to you. Jughead and Betty have invited me over, I’ll probably just pop in for Christmas dinner and leave it at that. I don’t know what I’ll be doing otherwise but I will be thinking of you. I wish that I could get you out of that house, maybe I can come over to NV when I have saved more money from these jobs I’m taking on and help break you out. Maybe the bar’s open over Christmas, they should pay more for that, right? I won’t have anything to do so might as well put my time to good use.

I love you so much, Cheryl, hang in there, we’ll work something out together and, if not, the Serpents may be able to lend a hand, especially if you head back here with me.

Merry Christmas, my love,

TT x’

I held the letter tight in my hands, the paper crumpled from the number of times it had been folded and refolded it, the corners fiddled with, and pulled in and out of my bag.

I was doing the correct thing, right? I wasn’t insane or delusional...right? It was too late for that, I tried to remind myself - I was here now.

I readjusted the large holdall digging into my shoulder, as I tried to work up the nerve to knock on the door. I had raised her fist so many times but could not seem to actually do it.

The lights were on inside so, in theory, she should be home.

What if I had the wrong address? Oh God, what if she didn’t even want to see me?

Movement inside jolted me from my thoughts as heavy footsteps shook the small building, the lights switched off as keys jangled inside.

Half of me considered bolting but there was no time and nowhere to hide.

The front door swung open, almost hitting my nose and I stumbled back almost slipping in the frosty grass.

“Hello, can I help you?” A familiar sweet voice asked.

I recognised it from the one time I had snuck away from my mother when we had been in town and made it to a payphone. We had never managed it since but I still remembered that voice like it was yesterday.

“Are you alright?” She questioned further before pausing. “Hang on, let me turn the porch light on, I can’t see you.”

With the click of a switch, a blinding light turned on above me before Toni appeared in the doorway. Goodness, she looked better than the picture she had sent me last month.

She no longer had the pink stripes, but her black hair still fell in soft curls down to her waist, delicately framing her face. She was dressed to go out for the evening, it was Christmas Eve after all. Smokey makeup and pretty pink lipstick, a tight black dress hugging her figure, paired with fishnets and heeled boots, she looked drop-dead gorgeous.

“Wow,” was all Cheryl could get out in disbelief that her TT was actually in front of her.

All the fighting and struggle seemed worth it for just this moment: to be free from my she-witch mother and to be in the presence of my love. Yes, I loved her and it was only confirmed by finally being able to properly see her and hear her voice - all I wanted to was gather her in my arms and hold her.

Without TT, I did not know how I would have gotten through the last six years.

“Cheryl?” Toni’s jaw had dropped open, her body frozen in shock as she tried to process what she was seeing. “Cheryl? Seriously, is that you?”

She suddenly moved, flying down the steps and jumping down so we stood in front of one another; she grabbed my arms, holding me at a length in front of her, thoroughly inspecting every aspect of me, no doubt seeing the doozy of a bruise which decorated my cheek, curtesy of mother dearest.

“Yes, it’s me TT.” My voice barely a murmer but it brought her gaze back to my face, her eyes flitting between each of my eyes, her mind probably running a million miles as hour.

“Oh baby.” She whispered, tears beginning to slip from her eyes as she ran a thumb over my unmarred cheekbone before throwing her weight at me, wrapping her arms around my neck and burying her face against my chest. Despite the throb it brought about in my injured leg, I happily took the burden. TT was here, she was in my arms.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” She kept whimpering against my shirt, it broke my heart.

Dropping the hold-all onto the frozen floor, I reciprocated her embrace, one hand finding its place in the small of her back and the other on the back of her neck.

“It’s alright, I’m here.”

I wasn’t alright an hour ago, but now I was. I was still just as beat up and everything at ‘home’ was still as it was but I was here with TT in my arms.

“You’re here.” Toni whispered pulling back, wiping tears from her cheeks before noticing the smudged eye make-up on my top and deciding to give up her futile efforts.

“You’re here...how are you here?”

“It’s a long story.” I answered. “One for inside in the warmth but, long story short, I’m eighteen and stole some money from a visiting rich uncle, taking the first flight to New York.”

I crouched down and picked the bag back up before swinging it back over my shoulder, wincing slighly as it met yet another developing bruise.

“Alright,” Toni offered her hand, which I gladly took,, “let’s go inside and get you into some clean and comfy clothes. We’ll drink hot cocoa and you can tell me what you need to but I’d also rather like to take you to the doctor,” at the rapid shaking of my head she backtracked, “or at least Mr Jones, he won’t ask too many questions and will be able to sort him out but you can trust FP, he might even left you join the Serpents.” She squeezed my hand before leading me back into her trailer.

Not all was right in the world but I was with my TT and that was all that mattered.

[spacegaywritings]

Love and other Tragedies (7/7) “Why”

Summary:Remus' court case comes to an end, prompting Roman to make an impulsive, fateful decision.

Tags: death, suicide, bad ending, execution, corrupt government, double death implied, mentions of polyamorous relationships (remus x logan x virgil x Janus), sort of suicide note, remy mentions, flowers, implied sexual assault, attempted rape allegations, implied abuse, angst angst and drama af

Tumblr: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6  / 7 (you are here) .

Ao3 :     1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 // all.

  My KoFi  - Support me ♥ or Commission me

 Story under the cut: (Word count: ~1,6k)

21st MAY

 One last time, Mary.

 I feel really bad to do this but I think if I keep up writing to help myself, I need to start with a new book. Conveniently, you actually are about to run out. Still, I think our ways about to split. I need to start over.

 Patton and I are close. We are dating, actually. It is comfortable to be with the little prince of hearts. He makes me really happy.

It is important to realise that I deserve a healthy relationship that makes me happy. We both still go to therapy and Doctor Archimeda tells me that we accept the kind of love we think we deserver.

 I don’t know whether Remus was bad for me or wanted to be bad at all. Maybe he is bad for himself. He seemed really hurt.

I did not want to look at all the things they said on TV but I went outside to apply for a job on the side. I found a school course to take me in but I need money. I feel icky just thinking about the idea of taking my family’s money for this - I know I shouldn’t feel down about this but I do. Things will get better. Doctor Archimeda is really out to pull my strings and lure me out of my reserve. It is uncomfortable but change and development is disgusting a lot. He said that butterflies look really ugly before they come out and during their first days. It kinda helps to think of that.

Patton calls me his butterfly prince, now. He is my prince of hearts. When I tell him, he giggles and gets all flustered. He said I am the most handsome prince in the world but to be frank, I think he is the most handsome one.

 I really love him.

 About Remus..

I think I keep distracting from the topic because I don’t really want to write down what happened. It hurts to think about it. He looks so small when people question him. His partners sit on the side and hold hands or each other.

They seem to love him so much, it hurts me for them.

 Love really is something.

 They said he murdered someone.

He said it was protection.

Apparently, someone assaulted him and one of his partners but his partner is really anxious and scared, so he froze up while Remus defended them both. It was an alpha.

No wonder he was in a metal hospital that excludes alphas - even the staff is not allowed to be alphas. It’s a true horror story.

 The newspapers say that Remus would be best off pleading for insanity.

I know he is not insane. He is honest in his eyes.

 When I saw his eyes and he was questioned, I really did not want to be alive. He looks so betrayed. I understand that he said all these things.

I wondered whether I should write him a letter and tell him I am sorry and that Patton and I are better but miss him because he was a nice friend.

 I am scared of what he will say - if he actually answers.

 OH! Also, dearest Mary! I think you will be happy to hear about this.

 Patton went to visit my family.

It was quiet but it is sunny and warm here because it is May already. Summer is about to start, so Patton wore a dress.

He is scared of wearing nice things when he is alone because people harass him a lot. He was in because he did not have a Remus to protect him from others.

 I told my family I am engaged to Patton.

Things are fast but they are doing well.

 Mary...

I am scared.

I think they will say Remus was guilty because he ended up taking a high-ranked alpha’s life and nobody believes he did it to protect himself and his mate because they are omegas. They think they planned it.

I think it is because he is dating more than one person and that scares people.

 I think it is swell for him to have multiple princes. I just want him to be happy.

 Farewell, love.

 Yours truly,

Prince Roman, soon-to-be king of Patton’s heart only.

  3rd JUN

 Hello, friend.

 You are a new diary. I feel bad for replacing Mary but I think I need to keep writing. I.. I am not telling Patton. It feels wrong but he thinks Remus is bad.

He says it is wrong because he did a wrong thing - even if he did it for the right reasons. I - don’t you think it is okay to protect someone? They were not the aggressors, so why is it wrong to defend your own life when someone threatens it?

 I feel icky.

 I can’t talk to Patton about it.

 I will start school in a few weeks and for now, I am working in a flower shop.

I..I saw one of his partner come in. Someone had to send me home. I told Patton I saw yellow roses and got upset, so he suggested I look for another job if I am still too hurt.

I feel bad for lying but I can’t imagine feeling as betrayed as Remus. The whole world seems against him and his partners look so gentle. It was the anxious one. He is tall but seems timid - from what I can remember.

 I wonder how I shall name you, fellow journal. You deserve to be a named, considering you are my accomplice in this matter.

 I want to find the anxious one and tell him what happened.

Maybe I can tell them that Remus is nice and gentle and never hurt anyone. He did not get knives because Remus said they thought he would hurt himself to evade the sentence.

He said he would never accept a death sentence because it is a shame to be sentenced unfairly for unfair things and by an unfair state.

 I wonder whether he is wise or stupid saying all these things but he has opinions stronger than my body. (Yes, I started working out! I want to carry Patton on our wedding day! We consider next year in April. It is the day we three got really close friends. It means a lot to me.)

 I will write a letter to the court.

I can tell them how nice Remus is! I just don’t know whether I am any use. I have Mary (my old journal) to help me remember things but I am unsure. People will think I am too insane because I was in a mental hospital. They did not call it that but it was one.

 I don’t know.

 I don’t want him to die.

 The timid partner looked so peaceful. I bet Remus is happy with them. I think his name is Virgil. The others are Janus and Logan.

 I will talk to my therapist. Archimeda is clever and knows a lot of things.

  27th JUN

 Greetings, Friendo!

 I am still working at the flower shop.

They said Remus is guilty but some people are writing petitions and starting demonstrations. I want to go, too.

Patton says it is wrong. I asked him whether he would rather have Remus and his partner dead because a man wanted to do whatever with them. He was silent but I don’t think he feel different, now.

 I think I will call you Justice.

 Archimeda helped me write a letter. He said it is okay to support others but he recommended I take it slow or I will get hurt. He said I am too scared of losing people but that happens a lot.

How can people be so indifferent to this?

 I will send my letter as an open letter. I never told Patton these things in there, so maybe he won’t know. I don’t really care if he knows. I am scared he will get mad but I found new friends and I asked Remy if I could sleep at his place in case my engagement broke off,

He asked why.

I said because I am scared. He thinks it is okay.

He was the one who sent me home when I saw Virgil and then the stars.

 Yours,

The one and lonely Roman

  30th JUN

 Justice, hello.

 I think I am no prince more.

 Patton found out it is my letter and broke off the engagement. I visit my parents a lot more and bring them many flowers. Remy helps me with colours because he acts like a huge bitch but is actually a really nice person.

 I wish Patton was as kind as he is.

 Remus..

His partners held hands when he got the sentence.

 They will execute him soon. They think it is a waste to keep a young omega living if he is criminal already and refuses to become “better” and fit into his role.

The media quieted down. Some depict him as villain.

 He still has the mustache.

 I sentenced him, when I called him a villain.

 I will join my family but I cancelled the highschool first and left Remy enough money for more rent. He will get all the money I saved for the wedding. I wrote him a letter, asking him to give you and Mary to Remus’ partners.

 I will be a real butterfly.

And first I will be ugly.

Then I will be pretty with my beloved family.

 Yours,

Prince “Butterfly” Roman

  ***

[minyardcva]

Idk if you’re taking prompts from the list you just posted but if you are, 15, 17, and jerejean? And if you’re not, ignore me lmao

i am and thank you so much for sending the ask, this was so fun to write! i know it was supposed to be a drabble but i kinda got carried away so i hope you don’t mind the length and that i accidentally turned it into an au :)

you can also read it on ao3!

About a month passed since he was kidnapped and brought here, but Jean thinks that a knife to the throat would be more merciful than rotting away in this godforsaken tower. No, it’s not about a month. Exactly twenty-six days have passed and Jean, having been a victim of Riko’s cruelty for years, knows it’s futile to resist at this point. But you can’t say that he didn’t try to fight. He did, and that’s exactly what brought him here.

Riko, as the eldest son, was born to inherit the throne and rule the kingdom, but Kevin and Jean didn’t take after their father like Riko did, and wanted to prevent Riko from carrying forward with their father’s dictatorship. With the help of lord Wesninski’s son they started forging a plan but with Kengo’s recent illness and bad prognosis from the physicians, they were running out of time and got careless. He doesn’t know what or who gave them away, and it was pointless to think about it now.

All he knows is that one day Riko invited him and Kevin on a short trip to the nearby castle where they spent a lot of time when they were children. To strengthen our bond, Riko said with a smile that Jean knew better than to trust. And he was right. As soon as they were away from the castle’s safety, Riko’s men put them in shackles and slid a blindfold over their eyes to keep them from seeing where they were going. When he was allowed to take the blindfold off he found himself on the top of a soaring tower, nothing but green grass and green bushes and green canopy in sight. I decided to be merciful and spare your life, brother dearest, Riko told him. Mercy. He knew only quick death was merciful enough. He was simply mocking him. Jean kept track of the time by observing the arrival of the guards. Every five days the guards would come up and leave him just enough food and water to survive, and then they were off, leaving Jean’s blood boiling every time he watched them from the tower’s window.

Now he is sitting in that same window, observing the view he knows like the back of his hand. He thinks about his father, about the future of his kingdom, about Kevin’s safety, about Neil. Neil must have realized something happened to them. Unless Riko got to him, too, Jean thinks, and his blood goes cold at the thought. Riko certainly has the power to do it, and it’s not really a secret that Neil hates his father, and that the sentiment is mutual. Everybody will think that Nathan got tired of the push and pull game and executed him.

It shouldn’t bother him that nobody will miss him, but pain, like ink, spreads through his chest as he thinks about Jeremy. He berates himself for being too naive to think Jeremy harbored any feelings for him, but Jeremy assured him time and time again that his feelings were genuine.

It was like whiplash, the truth. Riko had called Jean to meet him at his chambers to go over some trade deals with the neighboring kingdom, but when he arrived in front of the chamber, he heard Jeremy laugh to something Riko had said. Intrigued, he opened the door just a sliver and leaned in to listen. They talked about nothing in particular and Jean was about to make his presence known when Riko’s voice, with a hint of maliciousness only he, Kevin and Neil could recognize, stopped Jean dead in his tracks.

“Pardon me for intruding but I’ve noticed that recently you’ve spent a lot of time with my brother. I’d like you to know that I just want what’s best for Jean and-”

Jeremy interrupted him with a laugh and a brisk shake of his head. Jean’s breath caught in his chest and his fingers gripped the wall tighter.

“Oh, no. You’ve got it all wrong. There is nothing between us. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure he would be great for someone else, but not for me. Never for me. I could never like him.”

Jean startled so bad he accidentally shut the door and he did the only thing he could. He ran.

He was hurt and furious, both at Jeremy and himself, and he shut himself off in his room. He hasn’t seen Jeremy since that day, distracting himself with documents and meetings and training with Kevin, and whenever the servants brought Jean a message from him, he burned it in the hearth.

Now, though, nowhere to hide from his thoughts, those words spread through his veins like ice, both numbing him and tearing him apart.

He exhales deeply, trying to steady himself, and goes to bed, the sound of Jeremy’s voice still echoing in his head.

At first, Jean thinks he’s dreaming, but as the hand shaking his shoulder stays insistent, his adrenaline kicks into overdrive and he throws the object closest to him at the intruder before reaching for the knife he keeps under his pillow. He jumps out of his bed and leaps to attack when the intruder grabs him by the wrist and tries to wrestle the knife out of his grip.

“Jean! Jean, it’s me! Calm down!”

Jean’s breath hitches and he startles in confusion, the intruder using the opportunity to take the knife and throw it away before putting his hands up in the air.

“It’s just me, calm down. You’re safe.”

Jean’s eyes finally adjust to the dark and the sight of the familiar face makes his shoulders sag a little in relief.

“Jeremy? What are you doing here?”

“Protecting you. We need to get out of this place before Riko comes here.”

“But how did you know I was here?”

“Kevin told me. Apparently, Riko sent people after Neil, but he managed to escape. He realized Riko found out about the uprising and that he would try to get to you and Kevin, too. He and Minyard went in search of you two, and by the time they got Kevin, Riko sent his men after them and they had to go into hiding. Luckily they figured out where Riko took you and managed to send me a letter. I came here straight away.”

Jean opens his mouth, questions swirling in his head, but Jeremy pins him with an urgent look.

“Jean, we don’t have the time right now. We have to go. Now come on, I brought you a horse and a sword.”

They’ve been riding for hours when they stop in the middle of a dense forest, trees providing enough cover for them to rest, and the rustling bushes and twigs will stop anyone from sneaking up on them.

They drink water from the nearby stream and eat the food Jean brought from his supplies, when Jean asks Jeremy to practice sword fight with him, his skill rusted after a month of not touching a sword. He’s trying to keep the calm and collected front up, but he can’t help being aggressive, attacking Jeremy and not giving him a chance to recover before striking a blow again. Jeremy tries to calm him down and tell him to tone it down, and even though he hears Jeremy’s voice, he doesn’t hear the words he’s saying, but the words back at Riko’s chambers. Finally, Jeremy stumbles and falls backward, and Jean leaps to put the sword against his throat. They’re both breathing hard and Jean’s eyes are filled with fury and pain.

“Jean, listen-”

“No. You do not get to apologize after hurting me so bad.” He tries to keep the hurt out of his voice, but it’s grown too large to hold inside.

“You do not get to apologize after lying to my face for months. After promising me you would never lie to me. And I trusted you like a fool. Was it so hard to say you don’t want me? Or did you just do it to play me like a toy?” Words drip from his tongue like poison, though he’s not sure if he’s poisoning himself or Jeremy. He wants to hurt Jeremy, wants him to feel everything Jean feels and felt, but tenfold. To doubt himself and his worth. To doubt if he’ll ever be good enough. The sword trembles in his hand and he takes a step forward.

“Jean, I did it for you. I did it to protect you. You have to trust me.”

“You say it like it’s easy.”

“I’m not. I know it’s not. I knew he’d use me to get to you.”

“You’re lying.”

“Think about it. Why else would he call for me? He probably started to suspect about you and Kevin and wanted to see if he could use me as leverage against you. I had to lie to keep both of us safe.” With Jeremy’s determined look and steady voice, Jean feels the adrenaline vanishing, leaving only wariness in its wake.

“I sent you letters”, Jeremy says, barely a whisper.

“I burned them”, Jean whispers back, his voice hoarse. “I hated the thought of you.”

Jean drops the sword and falls to his knees, wrapping his arms tight around Jeremy, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. Only when he feels Jeremy’s arms around him does he exhale a shaky breath and let his shoulders drop.

“Let’s go kick that bastard’s ass”, Jeremy whispers into the crook of Jean’s neck.

He draws back and looks at Jeremy, eyes fierce and smile promising trouble.

“Yeah.”

[liminal-storage]

Prompt #12: Accolade

The letter’s arrival was entirely unexpected. 

Not only did Okuni seldom receive mail in the first place, but the sender was one she’d honestly presumed dead or at least gone. A dead person writing a letter... That wasn’t entirely what she thought a “ghost writer” was. 

A joke. A bad bad joke. Because accepting that the letter in her hands was for real was next to impossible. But the longer she held it, the longer she stared at the neat lettering that spelled out her name in a familiar hand, the more she was forced to accept it. It was true. The letter was real. He really had written her. 

She did not wait until she was inside her home to tear the letter open, ripping a jagged gash in the envelope in her haste to get to the ink on paper, ink that would tell her why he had sent this damning thing. She pushed open the door to the house, skimming as she walked inside. 

My Dearest Okuni, 

I know that receiving this letter must be something of a shock, to you. 

[That was an understatement.]

How many moons have waxed full in the sky since we last saw one another? I still remember the soft lilt of your voice [Since when had her voice ever been soft, unless she had her customer service voice going?], the hair falling down your back. How my fingers used to tangle in those locks, twisted between my knuckles. I remember the look on your lovely face when I told you I was going on a mission and did not know for how long. And so long it has been, my lovely one. So long that you must have surely forgotten my face by now. 

[How was she supposed to react to that? It all sounded like bullshite, leading up to some sort of apology she didn’t want to hear. Okuni read on.]

Have you missed me in my absence? For I have missed you. I have missed you, and yet I have wronged you. Because when last we met, I lied to you. I lied and told you that I was waging a dangerous war, that I was sworn to secrecy. The truth, my lovely one, is more ugly than any ware. I was not leaving, but returning to something. To someone. 

[Her heart was frozen, frozen, and an odd panic welled up in her chest. No no no no no no no...]

I can never apologize to you enough for what I am about to confess, but you were always a decadence I allowed myself in Eorzea. I asked your hand on impulse, though I had the imprint of that ring already. You see, I had drowned in you so completely that I felt like I had no option. I had to make you mine in body and name. But it was with regret, with self loathing that I never told you I was already--

She could read no more. The excuses, the apologies... she couldn’t stand to read another. She’d read all she needed to, understood all that she needed to. All this time, she’d thought he’d gone on that expedition and died. All this time, she’d felt guilt for moving on from him. All this time, she’d been his mistress. 

What did he expect from her? Forgiveness? Some sort of award for telling her the truth far too late? Had she known, she wouldn’t have wasted her time. 

She would not write back. 

She would not even grace him by finishing the letter. 

She would think no more of him. 

The letter found its way into the flames of the hearth, and Okuni watched the paper curl up and crumble and puff into plumes of ash. Then when it was but embers in the fire, she took a dagger to her hair. The hair he had loved so much, the hair he’d twisted his filthy lying fingers into...

She cut furiously, hacked off hunks and hunks of that sleek black hair. When none of it touched her shoulders any longer, she threw it all into the flames as well. The acrid burning odor hardly mattered. 

No, no tribute. No accolades, no acknowledgement. Nothing that would remind her of him. Perhaps one day she’d stop feeling so tainted, like she needed to follow the hair and letter into the inferno. One day, she’d have a head full of hair that he’d never touched. 

She walked outside and began the trek to the Mists. Any praise or tribute she had was for him instead, the man who she’d come to love in the time since the letter’s sender. He’d never treated her like that, never built their relationship on a lie. 

If there was any question in his mind that he was ‘worthy’ of her, she would banish it, slay it, crumble it to dust. He was a god compared to a snake. 

[contreparry]

Hey! "The sound of laughter on a dull day." for Fenders for DADWC? Please and thank you, have a lovely day!

I’d be delighted to write some Fenders for @dadrunkwriting! The prompt got  away from me for a little bit (and then I accidentally deleted everything and had to start over) but I hope you’ll like it!

It was the waiting that was hardest. The waiting and waiting without an end in sight. Fenris was a patient man, but this was a torture he did not care to repeat. He paced in front of the massive fireplace in Hawke’s study, back and forth and back again, and waited for the door to open and for news, be it good or bad. He hoped for good. He feared the worst.

“Fenris, please sit. Anders is with her, and you know Anders can heal anything,” Merrill said softly. Because it was truth and because it was Merrill, who had real cause to fret and scream and carry on, Fenris ceased his pacing and settled down on the heavily cushioned bench next to Merrill. She patted his knee gently before returning to the strange project in her hands- some sort of wooden statuette she was carving with a little knife. Fenris could see the elegant form of a halla emerging from the dark wood: there was the muzzle, the front legs, the beginnings of the antlers... it was beautiful and certain, and Fenris envied Merrill’s calm. He knew he could not be so at ease if he were her. If his lover was injured, seriously injured, while the man responsible sat next to him, Fenris would have clawed his eyes out.

“I... apologize,” Fenris said softly to the room at large. “For my part in this. If I had known-”

Isabela interrupted his hesitant speech with a gusty sigh. “Please, Fenris, don’t. Because if you apologize then I’ll have to apologize, and right now I don’t think I can manage it. It’s just a fucking book! A musty, heavy, utterly useless-”

“Isabela,” Sebastian said, and while his voice was gentle his eyes were flinty, the pretty sky blue almost a stormy gray in anger. Isabela sighed again, but didn’t say anything more. Varric coughed, drawing attention to himself, and Fenris looked through the pale fringe of his hair at the normally cheerful man. His grin looked pasted on his face, and his skin was ashen from shock.

“Well, Fenris, don’t know if any of us would’ve survived if you hadn’t intervened,” Varric said carefully. “Neat bit of diplomacy back there. You might have taken him on yourself-”

“No,” Fenris said swiftly. “The Arishok respects- respected- Hawke. I was... an interpreter. Servant. Only Hawke could challenge him and have it accepted.” And even though Fenris knew this, knew it in his soul, and even though his suggestion, his challenge, may have saved the city- well, Fenris wished he could spare his friend (dearest friend, first friend, the woman who saved him in a thousand ways), he knew Hawke wouldn’t have changed a bit of this.

“It’s all in Anders’ hands now,” Aveline said grimly. “Thank the Maker he’s capable.” “Rude,” a voice came from the doorway, and everyone jumped to their feet at the sound. “I’m the best, Aveline. For doubting my abilities you’re down at the bottom of my healing list for the next month.” As everyone rose to their feet like a wave, Anders stumbled his way to the empty armchair in front of the fire and flopped into it in a boneless heap. “Is-” Merrill whispered, and Fenris saw how her knuckles turned bone white as she clutched her knife and statuette to her chest.

“Alive and awake and in a decent mood, all things considered. She asked for you, Merrill. You go in first,” Anders said gently, and as everyone stepped towards the doorway. “No! One at a time, Andraste’s Tits, she doesn’t need to hold court in there, she needs rest!”

After Merrill slipped into the door that led to Hawke’s bedroom, the study turned into a hive of activity. “I’m to the Chantry to pray,” Sebastian said abruptly, and the relief in his voice was palpable. “I’ll be back in two hours.”

“I ought to get back to the Guard. Lots to do, but I’ll be back tonight with Donnic,” Aveline stated, and the two of them left the study together.

“I’ll head down to the kitchens. Let Orana know that all is well,” Isabela offered as she headed for the door. “Get you some tea, sweet thing, or something a little stronger?” She smiled at Anders, who waved her off with one tired flick of his hand.

“Herbal, please. No sugar,” Anders replied. “Varric?”

“Might take a walk to clear my head, write a few letters in the library,” Varric replied. “And Fenris, if you ever get tired of sticking hands and blades into chests, there’s plenty of work for a diplomat who can think on his feet.”

“I’d rather not, considering that my efforts at diplomacy nearly got Hawke killed,” Fenris retorted crisply. Varric shrugged, but dropped the subject and left the room.

“And then there were two,” Anders mumbled, and Fenris got a good look at him. Now that he wasn’t overwhelmed with relief (he hadn’t killed Hawke, he hadn’t sent his friend to her death, she was alive and awake and she wasn’t dead because of him), Fenris could focus on other things. Anders was looking into the flames in the fireplace, the firelight highlighting the gold in his hair and deepening the shadows around his eyes. 

“You are tired,” Fenris said. Anders tilted his head back until he was staring up at the ceiling and closed his eyes.

“Hard work, healing all those internal injuries. Why do you warriors insist on bashing each other to death? Would be a good deal easier if you just stabbed and ran away, or lobbed fireballs at each other from a distance,” Anders complained. Fenris rose from the bench and made his way towards Anders.

“Move your arm,” Fenris ordered, and he nudged Anders’ arm off the armrest before perching on it. He undid the leather cord in Anders’ hair and carefully carded through the locks with his fingers. Anders liked having his hair played with, Fenris thought. He apparently found it relaxing, and after hours of intense healing he would need some comfort and relaxation. “Bossy,” Anders mumbled fondly, eyes shut and small smile on his face. “Hawke complained the entire time, you know. Worse than you, and you’re terrible.”

“Hmmm. It was a dull affair, waiting for you,” Fenris said, and Anders’ exhausted chuckle melted the tense atmosphere away.

[oldhector]

things you didn’t say at all + adam JUST FOR THE LOLS

prompted // @ripered

i) maybe it’s the heat, but i think i have feelings for you.

a week into the holiday and hector was lapping up every awed gasp and excited smile from adam as they perused ruins. he felt like a child at christmas every morning knowing that he could show the classicist around new parts of greece and engage in thought-provoking discussions about matters they were both expert in. and in this moment, they’re standing in front of the parthenon. adam surveys the landscape – white buildings clinging to the hills, patches of greenery, other temples on the site. hector has his hands in his pockets and watches his friend’s reaction. such purity and wonder! he laughs, but it catches in his throat when ridiculously perfect eyes direct all of that happiness on him. their gaze locks, hector’s heart skips, and words bounce off his teeth. uncertainty kills the sentiment. he looks away with a smile. the white marble is splendid, but adam might not feel for him as he might. so the confession remains unsaid, and the ruins aren’t given more gossip to absorb for eternity.

ii) feel free to join me.

they’re good friends now, even in so short a time. but a trip away would do that to anyone, wouldn’t it? so much time in only each other’s company is bound to foster a closeness that could otherwise be gained over at least a year of talking on and off. but they’re two men forged from the same piece of metal. two pearls from the same oyster. hector hadn’t met anyone in centuries who quite matched his soul. every conversation was enjoyable, even when it was about nothing. they sat on the porch in their chairs, drinking whiskey or wine, and talking of this or that. often both. sometimes silence would overcome them, but it wasn’t awkward. always comfortable. they tease sometimes. hector more so, but he’s always been a flirt. as he stands to announce that he’ll take a shower, another sentence pops into mind. he glances down to his company. his beautiful, sun-kissed company. maybe it’s good fortune that adam turns to return the stare. something stirs in his chest and he’s sure it isn’t the alcohol. it’s desire, pure and simple. he knows if he adds the offer to join him, that he’d mean it. god knows it’s taking every bit of strength that he has not to straddle the poor man where he sits and— he doesn’t let himself go into any detail on this train of thought. the words remain unsaid.

iii) dearest adam, 

i write in a flurry. nothing has happened to me, but i have a horrible feeling something might have happened to you. ??? see, i mentioned that i have nightmares, but sometimes i can’t tell where reality lies. it’s nothing dramatic, i suppose. i don’t see demons. but i do see worst case scenarios. i dreamed that you’d died in greece, right when we seemed our most happy. i hope this is a dream, my friend, and not something worse. it’s just gone 3am and i don’t think i’ll go back to sleep. maybe this is just me documenting my dream like you suggested. what does it mean that i dreamed your demise? nothing, i hope. i feel so scattered and agitated by it. i’ll send this note in the morning as supplement to my last letter, and if you’re quite alright, don’t bother replying. your next letter will be suffice, and by that time i might have forgotten this terrible nightmare. if i still can’t tell, and this letter reaches you, don’t you dare feel guilty. i can see you worrying over it now. please don’t. i suppose i’d rather you’re distressed instead of dead, but i can’t stand the thought of negative feelings on my account. maybe i shouldn’t send this. i’ll make up for it in my next letter. i’ll be extra pleased when i get something from you now. oh, fine, if i won’t send this maybe i can speak freely. i’m sure you’re well. i’m fine. i died the other day for a minute, so maybe that prompted my dream. it makes sense now. i thought about you when i woke up, isn’t that ridiculous? i thought about how cruel it would be if that was the last time i died, and i didn’t even get to say goodbye to you. i believe in reincarnation, it helps me cope. i think i’ll meet my soulmates again and again and again. i’m sure i’ve met you before, we get along too well to have been strangers at the start of this year. but i don’t think i’d get reincarnated. the thought makes me want to cry. i just want to rest, adam, my love. i’m a ghost. i should be somewhere else, but instead i’m forced to wander. i’d miss you terribly, though. i miss you now. i ache thinking of every second i could have heard your voice when we were together. how did i last a month or so without you at all? i’m rather dependant, love. once i like someone, there’s an urgency in me that makes me want to show it all at once. but i like you rather too much, so i don’t want to risk losing you if you don’t feel the same for me. you do stir me in your letters, though. maybe if you’re bored, and you want someone to love you, you might think of me. i’d love you, and love you, and love you. you’re entirely wonderful. writing this has calmed me, even if i do feel lonely now. thinking of you has helped. i’m sure you’re well, so i won’t even let myself look at this letter again. i think i can go back to sleep now.

adam’s next reply arrives later that day – even more promptly than usual. this note gets folded in among the stack adam has sent to him, as a reminder of adam’s morality. as something to ponder over in the future. it’s a short note, it worries him at first. then it doesn’t. adam’s words echo his own, and hector feels that he could do anything in the world. he could fly. oh, it’s so lovely to be loved in return. sweet, pure happiness. hector doesn’t post this note, and its contents remain unread.

[drunkdragondoes]

Prompt: First time, m!Robin x Flavia

@esauwest

To Lord Khan Flavia,

I have not seen you since the Fell Dragon had been put to sleep. I pray this letter finds you well.

I will keep my introduction, however, short. In my eyes have failed when I did not end myself. A time borrowed of ten thousand years is still borrowed, never our own. Yet Lord Chrom and the Halidom see it fit that I be lauded as a hero. He has made a point of it again and again - there will be another time to make it right.

He has asked that I take a leave of absence, to explore the land a little on my own. As my dearest friend, I shall entertain his notion and have chosen to make Regna Ferox my first place to visit, should you deign it fit to have one such as me.

I understand that letters and papers are not your preferred method of diplomacy, but I felt that this notice would at least let you respond should you decide to allow me to visit.

Flavia accepted his request without a second question. It was true that his method of asking for passage and the request to stay was not the preferred way of her land. Diplomacy was often face to face, and letters were looked down upon. But she mirrored him and sent a letter in return. And in a moon’s time he arrived in front of her throne, kneeling at her feet.

“Grandmaster Robin, I’m glad you made it. Coming to Regna Ferox in the near dead of winter is no easy task.”

“It’s just Robin, for now,” his mop of white hair bobbed just a little lower, as if bowing again, before looking up at her. “I prefer not to have that title while I am on leave. Still, thank you for your kindness for one such as I. I did not think you would accept me so readily.”

She didn’t tell him that Chrom had sent a letter even earlier than he did, detailing the full extent of his concern for Robin’s wellbeing. The man had become a mess in light of his ‘failure’ to truly defeat Grima. She had been there that day. Some time before the dragon was weak enough, Robin had been incapacitated. There was no chance for him to even strike, and it ate away at him to this day. Chrom had all but begged in his letter for her assistance in his plight to help Robin back to his feet.

She had some ideas, but for now the man in front of her needed rest. She would begin her plan the next day.

The next morning she had invited him to her breakfast table, and the two had a conversation. Amidst the chewing and smacking of lips, though, Flavia set her plans into motion.

“Robin, one of the things that I recall the most about you was your sword arm. I’m curious to see if you’re still up to par. Care for duel?”

She watched as his jaw slowed to a crawl, no doubt chewing and thinking upon her words. Finally, he swallowed and spoke. “I remember us having a match once,” the words came out slowly, thoughtfully. “Others might have called it close, but I recall a fair trouncing. Sometimes I think my arm still hurts from blocking your blows.”

But two could play at that game, and her lips perked upward. “You didn’t answer my question.”

He thought for a moment longer before spearing a piece of egg with his fork. “Well, if you’re so inclined to beat upon me, I see no reason to turn down a request from my most gracious host. However, I do wonder why you are so inclined to see me beaten.”

“Well, then, when I beat you in our duel, how about you grant me a favor?”

That got Robin to raise his eyebrows. Smiling even, she dared to consider. “You speak as if you’ve already won.”

“Didn’t you just admit to it?”

“Hmph,” there was a definite smirk on his lips. “Then do I get a favor if I win?”

This time, Flavia gave a quick laugh, her heavy voice rumbling from her chest. “I’m not a cheat when it comes to words, Robin. That will always be fair and square. But you better get ready for this duel. I’ve been known to approach them like it’s life or death.”

It was clear to Flavia with how Robin moved that, in spite of his own self-inflicted shame, he saw it fit to continue training, perhaps down to the bone. Though he had his own clothes with him, he had removed his traditional dark purple cloak, something she had almost never seen him without and leaving him in his paler shirt. With his arms bared, she wondered how much muscle he had beneath his clothes.

But as soon as the wooden practice sword came into her hands, all that lay before Flavia’s mind was the upcoming duel. It was a little heavy, just the way she liked her swords, gripping it with both hands. When he finally picked out his weapon, she saw that it was one that mirrored hers.

“You ready to begin?” she barked.

“At your leisure, Lord Khan.”

With only a few onlookers present, the two began their match and they circled around each other. They watched each other like hawks, eyes never leaving the other. In a battle it was different - there were soldiers by their sides and by their enemies. But a duel was different. It let her drink in his features, the muscles on his arms seeming even more prominent. Every step of his was calculated and heavy with confidence.

In the end, though, it was he who made the first move. It was just a quick swing, aimed at her thigh and easily blocked. But it was to test her and she knew it. Before long another strike came down, this time towards her shoulder, and she raised her sword to meet it before stepping to the side and letting the blade slide down harmlessly.

Yet before she could retaliate, Robin had already drawn himself back, resuming their circling game. She flexed her grip on the handle. He seemed faster than before, maybe even stronger. Robin once again proved that he was no slouch in combat.

But neither was she. Regna Ferox’s title of Lord Khan was not carried without merit, after all. She tested him with her own strikes, looking to set the pace of the match, to keep him off his footing. Soon it came into full swing, their blades locking and unlocking, backing away only to reenter so soon.

It was not long before fatigue began to make its slow way into their muscles. Her blonde hair, tied back to reveal the scalp of her dark skin, became matted with sweat. Likewise, Robin’s hair had begun to clump and stick to his forehead. Sweat coated their skin, and his shirt clung to his chest.

She took another breath and stepped in. Raising her blade high, she slammed it down with all her might. Robin want to deflect the blade away from him, hoping to use her force against her. But with a resounding crack, his sword was smashed into a myriad of pieces. With a triumphant breath, she brought up her weapon against his neck-

...only to find that it had shattered as well. All she held was the handle of a broken piece of wood with the rest of the blade hanging by a thread.

“Did…” Robin trailed off, droplets rolling off of his brow as his confused and incredulous eyes looked into hers, “Did we come to a draw?”

For a moment she paused, doing her best to think of an answer and to catch her breath. But when she did, she pressed the splintered tip against the skin at his collar, summoning forth the tiniest pinpricks of blood. “Not after that.” A smile spread across her lips as she watched Robin roll his eyes.

“Fine, fine,” he said after a series huff. She had a feeling that he would have smiled were he not so tired, but she could hear it in his voice and that was enough.“What would the great Lord Khan Flavia ask of this lowly man?”

For a while Flavia held onto the request, both dangling it in front of him while playing the role of host. If there was anything he wanted or needed, she had it provided to him. But as spring began to make its way into the cold lands, she planned a hunting trip into the wilds, bringing Robin along. She took him west and south of the seat of her throne with her best hunters, letting him survey the regrowing land that was beginning to break free from the ice and snow.

And while she didn’t say anything about it, she could see the change slowly taking place. By seeing the growth and recovery around him, his countenance changed little by little. He was still caught up in his own failure, but she could see just a bit of him attempting to move on.

They were sitting next to each other at a campfire one night when it happened, after a long day of hunting. They had finally killed their first deer and were celebrating. By fate Robin had landed the finishing blow and was gifted with the first bite of meat, even before Flavia.

“You brought me out here for a reason, didn’t you Lord Khan?”

His stomach was full and just a little heavy with ale from a nearby town. He would never have been so direct otherwise. She didn’t respond with an answer, but instead just smiled, letting her hand ghost over his. But before the night was over she placed a kiss on his lips.

She didn’t make her request until after they had returned, not until a few days before he would return to his country. He was still undecided if he would visit other lands of the continent or resume his work, but he was sure that Chrom would be happy to see him again. She figured that a warm bed was better for the two of them, as it was still cold after all. And while Regna Ferox valued strength more than other aspects discretion was still wise, for the man would return to Ylisse after all was said and done.

Flavia rapped upon his chamber door with her knuckles. She doubted that he was sleep, though it would be of no consequence if that were the case. She would just try again the next night. But she was right, and Robin opened the door. His room was still lit with candles, perhaps for reading or writing before the night was over. But he had already settled into his modest nightclothes, perhaps closer to sleep than she guessed initially.

In comparison, she had only a coat of furs wrapped around herself.

���L-Lord Khan.”

This was the first time she ever heard him stutter and she vowed to take it to her grave. “No need for the title, Robin. I’m just Flavia tonight.” She stepped into the room and felt her neck turn to face the bed. “Besides, I’m here to follow upon my favor.”

He was a smart man, and she didn’t need to look at him to know that the gears were spinning in his mind. She remained silent, but was rewarded when the door shut behind her and he spoke. “This is surely a scandal.”

Her lips smiled as she quipped a return. “You’re still in the room with me.”

“I…” he faltered. “I admit that I am willing to at least hear you out.”

“You know, Robin,” she whipped her body around to face him, blonde hair gently raking upon her skin. She held the opposite sides of her fur coat and kept her body covered. “That’s the second time you’ve fumbled with your words tonight.” Slowly walking over, she tucked a chin under his finger, her dark skin gently contrasting against his paler complexion in candlelight. “I think I’m having an effect upon you.”

“I would like to think that anyone would think twice about their words when the most powerful person in Regna Ferox visits their bedchamber at night.” His cheeks were slowly reddening and he made to turn away, but her finger stiffened and pushed him back to look into her eyes.

“Me being naked doesn’t scare you?”

“Well,” his eyes fell down across the top of her body for the briefest of flickers and he turned even brighter. “... That, too.” It happened again as he turned his head away, and this time she let him go. “Would it be safe to say that your request is both more amorous than I expected and yet fully expected at the same time?”

She chuckled, her hand falling back to her coat and letting it expose just a little more of her shoulder. “You can say no if you want.”

“I’m… I’m surprised you’d have one such as me, Flavia.”

There it was again - that condescending tone he used towards himself. “Man, woman, doesn’t matter. As Lord Khan I can have anyone I wish.” Her hand fell onto his shoulder, gently kneading beneath the pads of her fingers, feeling his strong muscles. “Besides, you’re cut from a hero’s cloth, Robin. You are exactly what is desireable in Regna Ferox. I’m surprised no one ever tried to pick you up while we were on the march.”

His tilted down in embarrassment, his eyes trying to trace her toes against the cold stone tile. “I… It just never came to the table for me.”

“Not even Tharja?”

He quickly shook his head. “Not like that. I never saw her-...” he bit his lip, “not like that.”

Flavia felt her voice soften, going quiet. “So you’ve never been with someone.” Her hand rose to his cheek, gently letting his skin fall against her calloused palm. “Would you like to change that?”

One last breath, one last blink, one last darkening of his cheeks.

“... Yes.”

She smiled, her hand falling to his and dragging him towards the bed. “Well, come on then, no need to stand here in the cold. And just relax. Let me handle everything.” Letting go, she climbed upon the mattress and beckoned him towards her. “Here, lay down.”

Robin did as he was told, and now that the full weight of the situation was bearing down upon him his shyness had begun to fade away. But he became aware of the looseness of his pants, cloth peaking at his arousal and turned his head to the side again.

To remedy this, Flavia moved herself over him, placing her hips over his covered length and slowly let the fur coat fall. “It’s okay to look, Robin,” she said, answering the question she knew he had in the back of his mind, and slowly he turned to face her.

Her breasts were the first to be exposed to the night chill. As the front of the coat parted, though, the next was her toned stomach, abs pressing against her dark skin. His eyes were glued to the edges of the parting cloth, slowly drinking in everything from her body. But when it finally pulled away to reveal her hips and the folds of her core, she watched as he gulped and barely suppressed a chuckle. She let her legs relax, pressing herself against his hardened member and he twitched.

“Go on. Isn’t curiosity one of your traits?”

It was like a dam had opened up. His hands, unsure at first yet gentle and probing, trailed all over her exposed body and she shivered and languished under his touch. The air was cold, but she felt her body becoming hot as he explored. She grinned when he raised his head to have a better look at her breasts, feeling the soft flesh bend and squeeze in his hands. She gave a short laugh when they trailed down over to her stomach, taking in their firmer feel.

And when he finally gave in and looked down, she leaned back a little to expose her wetting flesh. He was careful, slow, like when he was approaching a wild beast on their recent hunt. But finally his thumbs went to both ends and gently pulled them apart.

“Some of the cruder men…” he gulped, “they speak of… I mean, I know what they put in, but-”

“You mean fingering?” she did her best to sound gentle yet impartial.

His blush turned darker, but he nodded. “Yes… that would be one of them.”

Her hand softly grasped a finger and placed it at the entrance. “Go on, then. Give it a nice, slow wiggle.” She didn’t expect him to be good, and while she was more than rearing to take him in now, foreplay would most likely be necessary in his future encounters.

And when he took a breath and gently pushed in, she shuddered and gave a low hiss. She was no stranger to the act, but another person’s touch always trumped her own. And as he explored, slowly satiating his curiosity, she began to undo the front of his top, gently plying the buttons apart. Her reward was his toned chest, strong from the war and training. Her own hands explored his body slowly, mirroring his movements from before. But she did her best to remain slow - Robin had never been with another after all, and too much at one time might lead to finishing too soon.

But she knew she was ready now. Gently grasping his wrist, she pulled it away and moved her body back a bit. Then, holding the hem of his pants, she pulled them down, letting his cock spring up, rigid from anticipation. Leaning in close, she grasped its base and examined her prize.

“It’s nice.”

Robin’s lips opened and closed, but he said nothing. With a small smile, Flavia let out her tongue and gave it a slow drag from base to tip, watching him flinch beneath her.

“F-Flavia…”

She didn’t think he’d last if she continued that way, and she laughed as she raised her body over his length. “We’ll save it for another night.”

“Y-You mean to say… we might do this again?”

“Of course,” she quickly responded, dragging her wet opening over his tip. “As I said, you’re a desirable man.” Finally, though, she stopped over his head and looked him in the eye. “Are you ready?”

He nodded, and she slowly let herself descend. She let out a low moan, but Robin let out an even louder one. It was short, though, and he pursed his lips. Finally, though, she had taken as much as she could from this angle. She knew from the start that he would finish well before her if he remained still, and she spoke again.

“Touch me.”

“W-Where?”

“Everywhere.”

He didn’t need a second command. His hands rose to her chest again, softly apprehending her flesh. They fell to her hips and thighs, squeezing them with each slow rise and fall of her body. He let out low hisses, and in those moments he would freeze up, trying to calm himself and she patiently waited it out.

But soon his eyes and hands fell over her filled entrance. Grasping his hand again, she guided his thumb through the small patch of blonde and to her clit, leaning back. “Keep brushing it. Right there.”

And this time when she moved her hips, just a little faster, Robin did his best to keep up. His voice escaped his lips, her name ghosting through the air, but his hand never stopped. One of her own hands hastened to grab his other and brought it to her chest, and she felt him squeeze.

And for a moment, it was a heavenly rhythm between them. But she knew Robin wouldn’t last long enough. Not on his first night with another.

“F-Flavia!” he let out a panicked cry. She could see his body tensing, feel it tensing beneath and she pushed harder. Her body moved past the pace they set, and for all the good it did he tried to keep up. But it was for naught. In seconds she felt his cock twitching inside her. His white hot seed spilled out onto the two of them, the slaps of skin becoming even wetter.

But in spite of all this, perhaps he hung onto her commands, for he stroked and squeezed her even more. He was well and finished by the time she felt her body snapping over him, the walls of her pussy coaxing whatever was left from him. But it was enough and it was good.

When the act was done, her breath regained, Flavia let herself fall to his side. She wondered if he was still coping with the sensation as she dragged the blanket over them, but such concerns were put away for the time being as her eyes closed to rest.

Robin would dig himself out of his pit. She was sure of it. But a little help went a long way. And it was certainly appealing to know that she had forged a bond with him that would not be put aside lightly.

To Flavia,

My mind still drifts to that night sometimes. Again, I thank you for all that you’ve done for me since my visit. Some days I still struggle, but to know that many others, and especially you, have faith in me is a gift unparalleled.

But I think I can put those times behind me now. You see, I have found a visitor most strange, and I think it would please you very much to see her. I seek to return to your seat immediately at your earliest convenience. After all, was it not you who mentioned that a hero is desirable for a Feroxi?

I eagerly await your reply.

Your lover, Ex-Grandmaster Robin

A/N: Whew, sorry for the delay. But surprisingly once I got started it kinda just spilled out. I think I was worried about not getting back into the FE swing of things, but perhaps it was severely misplaced, haha.

Just one more smut prompt left!

[ofnifflersandkings]

Surprise Engagement

Character: Prince Adam (sorta)

Prompt: None

A/n: I’m actually very proud of this imagine, it was fun to write and I’m fond of how it turned out. Unfortunately, Prince Adam actually isn’t in this very much for sake of story. But I’m not opposed to writing a second part if anyone wants it. (gif will make more sense once you read)

Warnings: None, long ass fic (2,068 words)

I apologize for any wrongly translated words, they all came from google.

•

“Must I attend another one of your dreadful parties?” You asked Prince Adam simply as you set down your painting pallet on a small wooden stool that sat next to you.

“Why, of course!” Adam beamed with same pompous joy he always got whenever he was holding a party. “You are a Countess after all. Besides, it would do you well to get out of this room,” He said, dramatically gesturing to the dozens of canvases lining the room. “You could use the change of scenery.”

You gently hit him one of your clean towels as you laughed at him while he tried to run away. “No thanks to you,” You said to him. “Anytime I try to go anywhere else but my room I’m followed by dozens of servants.”

Adam simply smiled at you, placing his hands delicately on your shoulders. “My dearest countess, that’s only because I promised your father I would see you well looked after while he’s away at war,” He explained softly, tapping the front of your nose. “And I am a man of my word.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, tearing yourself away from his grasp to return to your painting. “Might as well, I could do with the company.”

Adam feigned a look of deep offense. “And my company isn’t enough for you, have you grown bored of me?”

You simply hummed, not evening bothering to look around at him. “I suppose that’s it.”

He let out a dramatic cry as he leaned heavily against you. “You wound me so, dearest countess!”

You both laughed harmoniously before you pushed him off of you. “Stop it! You’re going to ruin the gardens!”

•

“Well! Now, don’t you just look lovely!” Mrs. Potts gushed as she strode into your room, the usual bright smile on her face. “Nice to see you out of the drawing room, we’ve missed your company.”

You offered her a kind smile, feeling a slight amount of guilt building up in your chest. You greatly enjoyed the older woman’s company, she was very nurturing and always greeted you with the happiest grin on her face.

“My apologies, Mrs. Potts,” You said, taking her hand in yours and kissing them softly. “You know I get lost in my own world.”

She laughed joyfully, pressing your cheek fondly. “Don’t you worry, my dear. I think it makes you all the more interesting,” Mrs. Potts then smoothed out the fabric of your skirts and escorted you down the hall.

You barely made it a few rooms past yours when you started to hear the orchestra playing loudly from the ballroom. If you strained your ears enough, you could hear the obnoxious laughter erupting from the guests attending as well.

“How long must I stay?” You asked your companion, who gave a low chuckle as she made small adjustments to some of the adornments on your dress.

“At least an hour,” Mrs. Potts said giving you another big grin. “If the company ever gets too boring, come and chat with me, I’ll be in one of the corners.” She said with a wink before leaving you to your lonesome.

You sighed heavily, smiling at the man who opened the door of the ballroom for you.

Upon entering, the sound of dozens of conversations mixed with a charming waltz from the orchestra drifted into your ears at full volume. The entire room was basked in a golden glow from the rows of crystal chandeliers on the ornate ceiling.

You could make out the couples dancing gracefully in the center of the room. The ladies’ gowns whirled around them as they were twirled by their partners, who were also dressed to the nines in coats of cerulean and gold.

You felt yourself get lost in the overall haze of the room, suddenly feeling very small, when you felt a hand come to rest on your shoulder.

You turned around, expecting to find Adam when you were met with an equally pleasant face.

“Alexei!” You cried as you pulled your long time friend into a tight hug. “What are you doing here?”

The young man laughed as he lifted both of your hands to kiss. “I’m staying in France for a couple of weeks, and your father sent me word of you being here so I decided to visit.”

A broad smile crossed your face as you listened to the familiar sound of his Russian accent, reaching up, you brought his face to your level so you could kiss his cheeks.

Alexei Vronsky was the heir of a wealthy count back in St. Petersburg, both of your families had always been close to one another, and you’d known him since you were a child.

He was a tall and broad young man with curly blond hair that simply went all over the place and dark eyes that would crinkle softly when he smiled.

“I am most pleased to see you here,” You told him as the two of you linked hands. “I was worried I would have to sneak off early.”

“Well, now that I have you in my company, you are simply stuck with me.”

The two of you spent the majority of your time together that evening, you spent many hours making up for lost time, it had been many months since your last meeting, and it was rather hard to send regular letters across several countries.

“Tell me, dead (Y/n),” Alexei began as he leaned closer to speak directly into your ear as the music started to get louder. “Have you given any thought to what I asked you the last time we met?”

You looked up at him with a soft smile, remembering that day very fondly. “I think about it often,” You said, watching a soft smile grace his fine face.

“But,” Your eyes suddenly got a glimpse of Prince Adam dancing with one of the girls at the party. “I don’t think I have a definitive answer just yet.”

Alexei tried to conceal his disappointment, but you caught the drop in his smile and you reached out and placed your hand on chest. “Please don’t be cross with me, I still care for you very deeply-”

“Then accept me,” He said, placing his hands gently over yours. “I don’t think I could take another four months without your presence.”

Your eyes were drawn to the way he held your hand right where his heart resided, and the look of deep longing in his handsome eyes.

“Okay.” You said softly to him.

Alexei’s smile flickered again, but it soon faltered. “I didn’t mean to guilt you into accepting me,” He said, and his thumb gently stroked the back of your hand. “Forgive my behavior, accept me whenever you’re ready.”

“Oh no,” You told him urgently. “No, I mean it. I couldn’t think of a better person to be with than my closest friend.”

Alexei gave you a blinding smile and began kissing your hands, whispering things in Russian at a rapid pace.

He had always known English for as long as you’ve known him and your Russian was more than laughable, the only phrase you could make out was “ya tebya lyublyu” and even then you didn’t know what it meant.

You felt him press a kiss to your cheek and you stopped him as he tried to do it again. “Wait,” You told me as you smiled. “I want to keep it a secret though, surprise everyone later.”

Alexei still had that dreamy smile on his face as he nodded. “Whatever you like,” He told you and finally released your hands from his grasp.

The rest of the party went on, you had finally taken a fluke of champagne from one of the servants wafting through the guests.

You had thought of telling Adam the happy news, knowing he’d want to be first to hear of something like this, but despite your attempts to find him among those dancing, you could find him.

Alexei had started to speak with a few other guests, but he didn’t go too far from your side, and every now and then you could see him smiling at you from across the way.

You had managed to grab a fluke of champagne from one of the servant’s and started sipping on it merrily as you watched the couples dance.

“Having a good time?” Alexei asked whenever he returned to you. Judging by the hazy glaze in his eyes and the way he hummed and swayed dramatically to the music told you he had found the champagne as well.

“You certainly look like you have.” You laughed as he began to spin you around.

“Of course I am, I’ve only just heard the greatest news of my life!” He said with a content sigh as he let go of you. “We should be celebrating, моя любов��”

“You shouldn’t make it a habit of speaking Russian to me. You of all people should know how pitiful I am at the language.”

“Nonsense, I’ll teach you.”

Your small conversation came to a halt when you noticed Lord Merchant of your father’s friends from the army begin to walk over to the pair of you, a large smile on his aged face.

“How odd,” You said to Alexei as he came closer. “He’s almost never in a cheerful mood.”

“Hello there!” He cried as he kissed your cheek before turning to Alexei and giving him a firm handshake. “There is much to celebrate this fine evening!”

You meant to ask him what he was referring to when the lord tapped a small metal spoon against his glass to gather the room’s attention.

“(Y/n), Alexei!” He announced to the room, raising his champagne to the sky as his wide smile growing. “Congratulations!”

The whole room erupted into cheers and applause, much to your confusion. It took you several seconds to finally understand what was happening.

You turned to Alexei to ask him who he told, but when you saw the same look of bewilderment on his face and your confusion returned.  

“Well, what are you standing there for boy!” Lord Merchant chuckled. “Go on and kiss your lovely fiancée!”

Alexei looked around at all the expectant faces and gave you a small kiss, hoping they would go back to the festivities

And after another fit of clapping and cries, everyone went back to dancing and talking of other countless things.

You pulled away from him, brows furrowed together. ”How did he find out so quickly? We’ve only just found out.” You saw a look of realization cross Alexei’s face. “What is it?”

“I sent word to your father that I was coming to France and that I planned to visit you,” He explained. “I think he might have assumed a little too much from my message.”

It made perfect sense, and you weren’t surprised if he had told everyone he know of your sudden engagement, you loved your father very dearly, but he was a little bit of an eccentric who simply adored Alexei.

When he came to ask for his blessing, your father laughed joyfully and kissed him on the cheeks, welcoming him to the family. Your father was also so disappointed when you put off accepting his engagement, asking you many times for a reason you couldn’t give him.

You sighed, but it soon turned into a laugh.”I should expect nothing less from him,” You reached up and gave Alexei a soft kiss, making him smile. “They would have found out anyways, now we have it out of the way.”

“I think I’ve deserved some much-needed rest,” You told him, gathering the skirts of your dress so you could walk easier. “I suggest you do the same soon.”

Alexei nodded and kissed your forehead. “Have a good night, dearest countess.”

You smiled at him as you made your way to one of the dozens of doorways, moving your way across the guests, not wishing to disrupt anyone. You looked around, smiling at the people who congratulated you and wished you well.

But then your eyes landed on the face of the very person you had been looking for all night was look directly at you.

You moved to wave at him, but you saw the deep frown on his face before he turned and stalked out of the ballroom.ya tebya lyublyu

You wondered what had happened.

•

я тебя люблю (ya tebya lyublyu)  - i love you

моя любовь (moya lyubov) - my love