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athenasparrow · 1 year

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No. 12 - Indulge | Jily Microfic March

Thank you @jilymicrofics for the wonderful prompt. This is the one that inspired them all xx

Read on AO3 | 2,061 words

Smut warning : )

The benefit of being Head Girl, Lily mused, was indulging in the prefects bathroom at 2am on winter break while the rest of the castle was sound asleep.

The whole room smelt of lavender and Lily could feel it diffuse deep in her lungs as she inhaled the steam that hung around her like a soft cloud.

She sighed as she dipped her head back against her towel and let her legs float up into the bubbles, wiggling so her periwinkle painted toes peaked out of the water.

Inside the bath there was no mess. Lily could shed her worries and focus on the warmth of the water and the scent of the bubbles. Because outside this room, there was a lot of mess.

Lily may have first sailed across the smooth Black Lake to Hogwarts as a naive first year, eager to please her teachers and learn about the newly discovered world, but the lake had turned choppy and dangerous and Lily felt like she might capsize and drown at any moment. Her assignments were certainly more complex, she was confused over whether she should pursue charms or potions for her Mastery…whether she should choose either of them at all, really.

Lily knew a muggle born in this climate would not succeed at the ministry. But leaving? That felt like giving up a piece of herself she hadn't discovered until eleven, but was nevertheless a part she held sacred.

And James . He may have been a thorn in her side for six years, but this year? He'd been nothing but kind…attentive…reliable.

Lily had to admit he’d grown up.

And there lay the confusion: because she may have been lying to her friends for months, but Lily knew, in the sanctuary of her own mind, that she could admit she was attracted to James Potter.

She hadn't noticed it at first. Her attraction had hit her as suddenly as a summer thunderstorm.

It was too bad he had stopped asking her out this year, really.

Lily was pulled from her thoughts as she heard the door creak open and heavy footsteps echoed on the stone floor.

Lily pushed off the wall and grabbed her wand.

She wasn't the naive first year anymore .

“James” she said in surprise as a familiar silhouette rounded the corner.

He skidded to a stop, frozen and staring at her like a deer caught in headlights.

She would have called him out on it if she hadn’t been staring herself.

He’d clearly just come in from a fly. His broom hung from his hand and his hair was windswept in such a way that Lily wanted to run her hands through it and snog him. His tracksuit pants slug low over his hips and Lily could make out a small line of his toned stomach as his hand automatically jumped to his hair upon seeing her.

A nervous habit, Lily now knew.

She was making him nervous .

She felt a rush of power run through her even though she'd just lowered her wand.

“Um sorry” James said his hand moving up as if to cover his eyes, though his hazel gaze seemed unable to break the way it was locked on her. “I…ummm…yeah…came in from fly…and wanted a bath…obviously you're here…not that I wouldn't want a bath with you…I mean oh Merlin”

“Is James Potter lost for words?” Lily questioned, smirking up at him.

He looked back at her, eyes wide at the teasing, husky tone her voice seemed to have taken.

His eyes darted down to where Lily knew her breasts were barely covered by the bubbles. His tongue darted out to run along his lips and Lily was overcome with the sudden urge to run her own tongue along his lips.

“You always take my breath away Lil” he said wading deeper into the intimate moment Lily seemed to have created “I just normally say something stupid instead of stumbling all over my words”

He admitted shuffling his feet, his gaze now on the floor.

Lily felt her stomach flip at that particular confession and thought back over the years. Was that why, all along ? She thought she might be teetering on the edge of a cliff about to glimpse something wonderful.

Could he….

Lily found she wanted his hazel eyes back on hers, instead of boring into the stone floor.

She leaped.

“James” she whispered, her voice so soft she wondered if she’d have to repeat herself.

But his head snapped up immediately as if she’d shouted.

“Do you want to get in?” Lily asked, her hands clenching with nerves under the water, unseen.

Lily was thankful James had such an expressive face so she could read his reaction before he said anything.

She saw his eyes widen in surprise, his pupils dilate in arousal, and his fiddling hand betrayed his nerves. Shock and hope settled on his features as he stared at her.

“Yeah?” James asked, eyes seeking hers.

“Yes” Lily reassured him letting a slow smile creep over her lips.

He stepped forward before hesitating, suddenly looking pained “Lily I can’t just shag you” he said “are you…I need…what are you saying?”

“James Potter lost for words again?” Lily asked, though this time her tone was much softer “I don't just want to shag you James” she said softly, surely. “I want all of you” she clarified when he remained silent.

“I want all of you too” he said clearing his throat as he looked up at her and she was surprised to see his eyes were wet. “I just thought I'd missed my chance”

“Well you might if you don't get in here” Lily teased pushing herself slightly up so the water settled at her waist.

“Fuck” she heard James mutter under her breath and felt a smug sort of satisfaction wash over her.

She didn't think she’d ever seen someone move so fast to get in a bath. She almost asked him to slow down so she could admire the ripple of his muscles as he lowered himself into the bath.

But it seemed more than the water slowed him down once he was in. Whether he was tentative about the moment that had been building for years, or nervous about what might come, Lily couldn't tell, but he moved slowly, reverently as if he might wake from a dream when his skin touched hers.

“Your glasses are going to get wet” she whispered, the unfiltered thought leaving her mouth before she had the chance to edit it.

James huffed an incredulous soft laugh that tugged at Lily’s heart strings. “I can't take them off” he said “Merlin, Lily, I need to be able to see you” he grinned bashfully at her, before dipping his head.

Lily felt a hot flush start at her collarbone and spread up to her face. By the soft exhale that escaped James’ parted lips she suspected it might have crept even lower.

“You're beautiful” he murmured, finally close enough she could touch him.

“You're beautiful too” Lily returned honestly, letting her eyes sweep over his top half once more before lingering at where the water lapped at his hips, hidden beneath, a part of him she'd only caught a quick glimpse of when he hopped in.

She thought her flush may have grown darker when she tore her gaze away to meet his eyes once more.

Lily felt an involuntary shudder run through her body. She'd never had someone look at her quite like that before.

She felt his breath stop momentarily when her fingers grazed his chest, only to become more sure in their place when he blew out a deep trembling breath and stepped closer to her.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered.

Lily felt her own breath hitch as she nodded and his face softened before he dipped his head.

Lily used the grip she had on his abdomen as balance to lean up and meet him.

He kissed her softly and tenderly, as if they were both testing the waters instead of having flung themselves fully naked in a bath together.

She couldn't have held the soft sigh of contentment she released if she'd tried.

She was happy she never tried because her sigh seemed to propel James closer to her, his hands now firm and sure on her waist.

Lily pulled at his bottom lip gently, eliciting a delicious moan from deep in his chest before pulling back slightly.

Their kiss had been soul soothing and gentle, full of the tenderness and trust they'd built up over the years.

And Lily would look back on that kiss as one of the sweetest moments they'd had.

But right now she was burning for him and she needed him to be sure, so they could burn together.

“More James” she said, her voice low, her lips inches from him.

“I'm afraid if I push too hard this dream is going to shatter” James whispered, staring at her his eyes unguarded and vulnerable in his confession.

“This isn't a dream James” Lily said, her arms meeting behind his back. “I'm not going anywhere. I’m on fire for you and I’m going to combust if you don’t-

His lips interrupted her reasoning with a fierceness that had Lily catching her breath. His hands pulled her closer to him, and started to trace every inch of her like he was trying to commit her to memory.

Lily wondered if she’d find scorch marks left on her skin where his fingers blazed hot against her.

“Merlin yes James” she moaned long and low as she tried to return the kiss with equal ferocity.

Lily may have been embarrassed about how ready she was for him, if he hadn't let out a growl that sent her shivering when his fingers discovered her dripping.

But she didn't have room for doubt: not with the sound he let out just beside her ear and the hard feel of him pressing against her hip.

She was surprised when he stopped her hand as she moved to encircle him, to drive him to an unthinking mess like he was doing to her.

“You can't touch me” his low voice spoke against her lips, his eyes shining as he broke their latest set of kisses “I need to last. I want to be inside you”

“I want you inside me too” Lily whispered, her body aching for him, her magic crackling against her skin as his fingers moved again to drive her over into the sweet abyss of bliss.

When she came, James broke away to watch her and she tried to capture the hazy, hungry, tender look on his face before he leaned in to kiss her.

Lily wondered how they could have possibly made it through the whole year without this when she felt him pressed up against her entrance.

He paused, and Lily whined, moving her hips to try and encase him.

He groaned, helpless to do anything but sink into her.

“Lily wait” he whispered, looking pained at the stillness he held.

Her answering noise of protest had his lips quirking, but he cupped her face and his hazel eyes blazed into hers.

“Lily I love you” he said softly, with the sureness of a thousand times.

Lily felt her own eyes prickle as a smile burst across her face “I love you too” she laughed, before moaning as he sunk impossibly deeper.

His hands were under her, moving her with his hips as he backed them against the wall of the tub. His fingers dug into the flesh of her as he bottomed out, his tongue circling her peaked nipples until her own hand crept down to give herself release.

And as she came down from her second peak, James pressed himself impossibly close, his thrusts becoming smaller and deeper inside her.

“Lils can… fuck …can”

“Cum inside me James” Lily demanded, suspecting the question he was wrestling to get out.

“ Fuck ” he repeated as he stuttered inside her and Lily felt the warm release of him fill her.

Her lips sought his immediately, letting him catch his breath between slow kisses.

So Lily may have indulged in a bit more than bubbles and warmth. But Merlin, James Potter was impossible to resist and Lily wanted to indulge in him every day for the rest of her life.

#jily fic #jily #jple #james potter #lily evans #jily smut #jily love #prefects bath #athena writes march micros #microfic march #smutty oneshot #athena's library #athena's microfics #athena's smut

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osakaonryoif · 6 months

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Random Snippet from the upcoming update.

I'm not even sure why I'm posting this, just felt like it, I guess. Anyway, enjoy this snippet from the upcoming update:

You move your gaze away from the idol that had latched onto you like a parasite as you turn the corner onto the street where The Kasha's Attic is situated. As you make the last few steps towards the door, a thought comes to your mind. This wasn't the first time this has happened, has it?

As you reach out to the door of the Izakaya, you stop in your tracks. A sudden sense of déjà-vu overcomes you, as you spin your head around to scan the street. Save for you and Midori, the street was empty. The night was oddly quiet, and the silence was broken by the sharp, sudden scream of a whistle, resonating it's haunting echo through the night. Your eyes land on a group of dim blue lights floating aimlessly near the other end of the street.

Sat peacefully on the pavement, watching the floating lights with an open jaw, was a fox, but you were unable to see the colour of its fur in the low light. Figuring that there was a good chance that this was ${kit}, you wave Midori inside, telling her to get a drink from Watanabe, your treat. Seemingly unaware of the lights, Midori simply nods, yawns, and heads inside.

You cross the street and stand next to the fox. Up close, you can now see exactly what formed the floating blue lights. They were blue flames, floating gently above the ground. While you look at the flames, a sense of solemnity overcomes you. The fox looks up at you, and now you can see that it's fur was white. Red streaks of fur covered it's back, each one ending at a tail, of which you counted nine. It looked at you in the manner a grandparent might look at their grandchildren, but with a noticeable look of caution in it's eyes.

You found yourself unable to speak in it's presence, not unless it spoke first. Perhaps it was your status as a Yurei, but you could sense an aura coming from the fox, one which gave you an impression of great power and wisdom. It noticed you studying it, before turning it's gaze back to the floating flames. "Tell me, human." It said in a deep, masculine voice. "What do you think these flames are?"

You are about to answer, but it continues, seemingly having realised something about you. "Although, perhaps 'human' isn't quite right… Tell me, spirit. Do you recognise the blood of your brothers and sisters?"

*page_break

The solemnity of the scene is suddenly fractured as a scream cuts through the air.

"Father!"

You turn your head around to see ${kit} in ${kithis} fox form, sprinting over to the two of you with an excited look on ${kithis} face. $!{kithe} comes to a stop with a skid, coming to rest between the two of you.

The white fox nods slightly, a warm look painting his face. "$!{kitson}. It has been a while."

You blink twice, as a look of respect makes it's way onto ${kit}'s face, the expression looking oddly alien on one such as ${kithim}. "I trust you have kept your flames in check?" He asks in a firm tone.

$!{kit} sends a look your way, winking so quickly that you almost miss it, before turning to ${kithis} Father and saying, "Yes, of course."

The white fox nods, an unconvinced look on his face, before saying, "You need to learn to keep your urges under control. I worry that by the time you learn, half of this human settlement will have been reduced to mere ashes."

"Hey! I never said I burned anything!"

"No, you said you had kept your flames in check. You never said that you hadn't burned anything at all." The white fox says with a sigh, a tired look on his face. Somehow, you feel they've had this conversation millions of times.

"I didn't burn anything accidentally though~"

The white fox shakes his head, seemingly not wanting to deal with ${kit} right now. You can relate. He turns his head to you.

"Forgive my ${kitson}'s insolence, Yurei friend. I would like to ask my question once more. If I am not mistaken, you are a relatively new spirit, are you not?"

You nod, "Yes… Sir?" You say unsure, not sure how a 9-tailed Kitsune should be addressed.

He nods respectfully, seemingly satisfied with your answer. He gestures with his head towards the floating flames. "Allow me the honour of teaching you then, young one."

Even ${kit} seems to sit down calmly and listen, as the white fox begins to teach.

"These floating blue flames are known as Kosenjōbi. They are onibi, demon fire. They float peacefully over sites of great bloodshed, causing all who see them to be struck with a sense of foreboding. But worry not, they are harmless. They are formed from the blood of the fallen, those who left Yamato, but left a piece of themselves behind."

The white fox turns to look you in the eye, "I would not be surprised to find some floating around wherever you died, young one. Your ${eye_stab} eye glows a fierce red, signifying great pain inflicted during death. Even one such as myself shudders to imagine what you must have experienced."

#choicescript #if wip #dashingdon #interactive fiction #the onryō of osaka #wip

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minasmind · 2 years

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fair trade - the surprise

pairing - eddie munson x black! fem! alternative reader

warnings - mention of blood and injury

a/n: my bad ya’ll. college classes + procrastination has been killing me. hope you like it!

THIS IS THE FINAL PART (part four) here is PART ONE, PART TWO, and PART THREE

after the group released from the hug and you guys announced that being the end of your performance, ivy pulled you to the side.

“girl, your fingers are-“

“i know, i know. you got, like, wipes or a bandaid or something? i got it on the fuckin’ mic too. don’t want anybody else touching it. pretty sure that’s, like, the number one way to spread diseases.”

“what, you got a disease now?”

you give her a blank look, lightly pushing her to go grab the wipes. it didn’t take long before she was coming back, handing you an entire case of wet wipes. the crowd paid you no mind as you wiped blood from numerous surfaces, far too caught up in their own worlds to even notice the blood in the first place.

after everything was wiped down and dolly, bless her soul, forced you into covering your fingers with an unnecessary amount of bandaids, the four of you made your way off the stage.

almost immediately, you were engulfed in the tight embrace of sasha williams, a loud laugh passing your lips as you hugged her back. the girl did nothing but spew praise from her lips before rushing to the other girls.

you stayed put, eyes scanning the crowd for your boy. what with the way eddie had been pushing through the crowd to get to you, it didn’t take long for you two to be standing in front of each other once again.

he couldn’t contain himself as he basically yanked you into a hug, lifting you from the floor as he muttered out a small: “holy shit, y/n.”

when he’d finally put you down, it was like his body just refused to let go of you. he kept your shoulders in an excited hold, taking a step back to look at you.

“how you still manage to look angelic after completely killing it on stage is beyond me,” he says.

you laughed, muttering out a shy “stopppp” as you brought your hands up to his wrists, gently holding on to them as you caressed at his skin with your thumbs.

“no, no, i don’t think i will. i mean, how could i? you were amazing up there. a true rockstar,” eddie slides his hands off of your arms, slyly grabbing onto your hands instead.

not being able to say anything but thank you, you stare into his eyes, biting at your lip in attempts to conceal the goofy smile that was sure to take over your face. he tightens his grasp on your hand, finally taking note of the many, many bandages that covered your fingers.

“how the hell-”

“guess i played a little too hard.”

eddie paused, looking from the bandages to you, seeming to put the pieces together on his own.

“jesus h. christ, and you played with them like that?” he asked, the concern clouding his mind being drowned out by a strange type of admiration. i mean, yeah, you getting hurt sucks and he’s gonna pester you about it later on but…

“that’s so fucking metal, y/n,” is all that he can seem to say, his hands now lightly fiddling with the parts of your hands that weren’t bandaged.

you let out a laugh at his words. of course he would say that.

“you’re crazy,” you say, laughing as you shook your head.

you watch as eddie opens his mouth to say something, the words seeming to catch in his throat as his cheeks are painted with a sudden, light blush. you tilt your head, urging him to go on.

“what?” you ask, a soft smile on your face as you squeezed his hands.

“nothing,” he laughs, his laugh not sounding all the way genuine. “nothing. i just…”

you two are overcome with a familiar silence, staring into each other’s eyes as you held hands. eddie traded his words in for holding your gaze, finding himself lost in all that is you.

“oh!” you exclaim, suddenly break the tension and making eddie look at you with wide, almost teasing eyes. “your surprise!”

“wait, i thought welcome home was the surprise…”

“well, i mean, yeah, it was a surprise but it wasn’t the surprise. i guess i just did that to uh…” you trail off, making an effort to look anywhere but him.

he looks at you with curious eyes, moving forward so you’d be forced to have him in your line of sight. you laugh at his advances, figuring it was too late to back out now.

“i guess i just did that to impress the great edward munson.” you were teasing him but the sincerity was there.

and eddie was quick with his response.

“sweetheart, you impress me just by existing.”

oh my god.

“eddie…” is all you can say, your tone slightly whiny.

“what?” and he laughs as he says it, knowing exactly what he’s doing.

“you’re sayin’ all this stuff,” you say, mind gone fuzzy with euphoria. “how am i supposed to react, huh? what do you want me to say?”

“well, that, lady y/l/n, depends on how many times i have to say it before you take a hint.”

“well, in that case…”

you don’t finish your sentence, giving him a look as you held back a smile.

“oh, yeah?” he pauses. “wait…i don’t get it.”

you laugh at his confusion, not even clarifying before rushing away. you grab at the black box from your book bag, lightly shaking it to make sure it’s actually in there. you let out a sigh before rushing back to eddie, slightly worried that he wouldn’t be where you last left him.

“hey,” you say, a loud sigh passing your lip before you smiled at him.

“hi,” he laughs.

you shove the box in his direction, nerves going heywire as you’d been waiting to give him the present for almost a week now. he looked up at you, as if asking for permission to open it.

“go ahead.”

the boy hesitantly opens the box, mouth falling open when he saw what was inside. in the box lied a silver ring. it was shaped into a skull, parts of it tarnished to add accents to the poor soul’s bones.

he looked up at you.

“i can’t take this, y/n.”

“what?” you frown. “no, you have to. i made it for you.”

“holy shi- you made this?!”

you weren’t exactly the best silversmith so you thought the ring being homemade was kind of obvious. maybe you were wrong.

“i can’t, y/n, this is too-“

“i told you if you came to the show i’d give it to you. i literally made it for you. take the ring, eddie.”

“ya know…you didn’t need to give me this to get me here. i was gonna come to the show anyway,” he says, slyly closing the box in a way that made you eye him in suspicion.

“really?”

you didn’t believe a word he said.

“yeah, i mean, sasha invited me. said something about the lead singer having a real thing for freaks,” he says, a teasing smile worn on his face.

oh.

“oh my god. did she actually say that?” you ask, heart dropping.

eddie laughs at your question and you’ve never wanted to run and hide more than you did right now.

“what the fuck. that’s so embarrassing,” you say, arms crossed as you looked away, not being able to help it as a nervous laugh passed your lips.

“no, it’s okay. at least now,” eddie pauses, gently grabbing your chin and guiding it so your eyes would be on him again. “atleast now i know this isn’t one sided, right?”

“eddie, how could you think this is one sided?” you ask, honestly caught off guard. “i’ve been liking you since sixth grade.”

“really?” he asks. “sixth grade?”

“yeah…”

“y/n, in sixth grade i was a walking atrocity. i don’t know how you even…you’re taste in men is questionable. beyond questionable. how can you-“

“oh my god. shut up,” you laugh, playfully rolling your eyes.

at this point, another band had began their show. you two were sharing hushed words, standing dangerously close to one another.

the louder the band played, the more the conversation seemed to die off. you didn’t even notice the way eddie was looking down at his hands, the small box you’d given him stored safely in one of his pockets.

you were lost in the sound of a band named apocalypse II. the name was strange but the music was amazing. you even found yourself writing their name down somewhere on your arm, hoping it wouldn’t smudge as the night went on.

eventually, their performance ended and eddie was turning back to you.

“here,” he says.

you look and see that the ring that always adorned eddie’s ring finger is now laid in his palm, held out in your direction. you look from the ring and back to eddie.

“you’re giving me your ring?”

“i figured it’s a fair trade,” he says. now he’s the shy one. “and…and the show itself was a gift of its own so…”

you watched as eddie took a moment, patiently waiting for him to say whatever it is he wanted to say next.

“y/n, i want to take you out on a date.”

his words are abrupt and unexpected.

you and eddie had been friends for years and you thought you were making your fondness for him obvious but he never really got the hint. he never asked you out. and now he was.

“oh…” is all you can say.

fuck, why is that all you can say?

before you even get the chance to bash yourself properly, eddie’s speaking again.

“if i’m totally screwing this up right now and that’s not what you want then i’ll walk away. we don’t ever have to talk about it again, you don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want to but i can’t-“

he’s not even able to finish his sentence before you’re leaning in. he goes silent at the close proximity.

though you were the one to make the first move, you find yourself hesitating, the world going hazy as you focus in of the feeling of being so close to him. your shared breaths as you stare into each other’s eyes, bodies leaning into one another.

eddie’s the one to place his lips on yours.

his surprisingly soft lips meet your glossed ones. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close as he grasped at your waist.

the kiss doesn’t last long. it obviously wasn’t the right time or place but when you pulled away, you were grinning like fools.

eddie didn’t hesitate in making his next move.

he takes the ring and slips it onto your thumb, his hands slightly shaky as he did so. afterwards, the boy handed you his gifted ring, dramatically bowing as he did so. an excited smile made its way onto your face as you took the ring and put it on his finger.

not too long ago, you’d caught eddie staring down at his ring clattered hand as he anxiously chewed at the nails of his other hand. you’d asked him what was wrong, thinking he had a hangnail or something, and he said something about his vamp ring not matching with the others. though never materialistic, eddie always treasured what he had. so naturally, the great debate between keeping and tossing the ring was ten times more dramatic than it needed to be.

your dad is a metalsmith and he lets you work with him often. you figured you could make eddie a ring as a gift and it’d solve the whole issue.

“do you like it?” you ask, shyly.

“are you kidding? this ring is the best fucking thing ever,” he’s cutting himself off by pulling you in for another kiss, his hands holding your face as you lean into one another.

this time, the kiss lasts a moment longer and you both find yourselves smiling into it. eventually, your smiles grew too wide and you had to pull away.

“let’s get out if here,” he says.

“eddie,” you respond, shocked at his blunt eagerness.

“no, wait, not like that, i mean,” he pauses, his eyes quickly flickering behind you. “sasha’s been staring us down for the past few minutes...now, i’m not one to judge but-“

you laugh, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the door.

(poor sasha’s been waiting for this to happen for way too long. it’s safe to say she was freaking out a little.)

“let’s go.”

the rest of the night is spent in eddie’s van, harsh music playing softly as you shared kisses in the midst of talking about whatever came to mind.

#eddie munson #corroded coffin #stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x black!reader #black!fem!reader #eddie munson x alt!reader #eddie munson x black!alt!fem reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #fanfiction #fanfic

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creamecream · 9 months

Note

21 for Hitsune/Izuku, 26 for Kaja and Hitsune, 24 for Tsubomi/Fuyumi!

Yeye!

I colored the numbers so it’s a bit easier to see when one ends/another begins!

21: Their First Kiss.

“You waited up for me?”

Midoriya asked, trying to ignore the soft fluttery feeling that awakened in his stomach at the thought of Hitsune sitting up, waiting patiently for him to get back to the dorms.

“Yeah…”

Hitsune said, a smile gently crossing their face. The fox quirk user stood up from the couch they had been sitting on, stretching their neck and legs. “There’s some leftovers wrapped up for you in the fridge if you’re hungry. I better be getting to bed.”

Midoriya watched them begin to walk away, and was suddenly overcome with urge to stop them, to do something. “Wait!”

Hitsune turned to look back at the other, confusion painting their face as Midoriya grabbed their arm, a question on their tongue melting into a quick intake of breath when his hand caressed their face, pulling them in, pressing his lips softly against their own.

“Sorry! Sorry! I’ll go eat!” Midoriya stuttered out, quickly backing away, leaving Hitsune blinking, their hand coming up to softly touch their lips, their face aflame.

26: One Character Worrying About the Other.

“Hitsune?”

Kaja blinked sleep blurred eyes, watching the mass of orange fur move about their room. “Hitsune, what’s wrong?”

Hitsune shook their head at Kaja’s question, not looking at her as they responded.

“Nothing! nothing’s wrong! go back to bed, Kaja.”

Hitsune insisted, but Kaja was already pulling herself free of the warmth of the bed, smoothing down her nightgown and placing a hand on her hip. “Hitsune Nenshō,” Kaja said, moving forward and putting her hand on their shoulder. “Talk to me, you’re starting to worry me.”

Hitsune stood still for a second, before their face flushed bright red all of a sudden, their eyes looking anywhere but at their best friend. “Izuku got back…” they started, only for Kaja to gasp, then start laughing. “What?! What?!”

“Pffttt!!” Kaja laughed, her hand on them staying put, but the other coming up to hold her stomach. “I know that face! I remember it from when I said I wanted to kiss you! you finally made a move?”

Hitsune squeaked and covered Kaja’s mouth. “Be quiet! people are sleeping!”

24: One Character Comforting the Other.

(Warning for vague abuse by the Todoroki parents mentioned!)

“Here, drink this.”

Tsubomi said softly as she placed a mug of hot lemonade in front of Fuyumi, though the other woman barely acknowledged it.

“Darling…” Tsubomi called to her, placing a hand over Fuyumi’s own. “I know it didn’t work out, but how your brothers react is not up to you, you can’t make them forgive him, that is up to them.”

Fuyumi sighed softly, finally looking at the other.

“I’m their older sister, it was my job…”

Fuyumi mumbles the words, before removing her glasses and rubbing her eyes. “What kind of big sister am I if I can’t even protect them from our own parents?” Fuyumi rests her hand over her eyes, not letting Tsubomi see the tears collecting there.

Tsubomi shushes Fuyumi at that, taking her hands and intertwining their fingers. “You were but a child as well, my love,” Tsubomi says the words softly, brushing her free hand against the other’s cheek, catching the unshed tears on the tip of her thumb. “It wasn’t up to you, it was up to your parents to provide you with an environment where you could all be comfortable and happy.”

Fuyumi stared at Tsubomi, who had perched herself on the side of the table Fuyumi herself was sitting at. Fuyumi tiredly pillowed her head in Tsubomi’s lap. “I-I don’t know what to do…” she mumbled against Tsubomi’s stomach.

#sorry if the tsubomi writing isn’t good!#I’m writing these while listening to spotify so may use a wrong word or something etc.#ask #meme #Creame brabbling

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icannotgetoverbirds · 5 months

Text

some of my favorite out of context quotes, mostly from conversations with friends

"HOLY SHIT HONEY THAT'S A FUCKED UP PIG I LOVE IT"

"This poor man is so fucked up - they all are! the whole polycule is in shambles!"

"thin boy like a thin mint?"

"This fever is turning me into a literary whore"

"Never know when a [fomite*] could get your ass"

"You have the right and obligation to shut the fuck up"

"You have to idiot proof your poison"

"Now go and commit arson with your deep fryer"

"I am gonna survive this if it kills me"

"The onceler taught us more than yoda ever did yoda wishes he could"

"i guess a trash can is a kind of ecosystem, huh?"

"help me plate tectonics"

"I'm too tired to die properly"

"If we're killing a child we're doing this right"

"If you're going to doll me up it has to at least look good"

"it just has an undescribable energy to it in part thanks to the whole tucker carlson sexy mnm thing"

"i was 8 years old! I didn't know what glass does!"

"I may not have a dick but at least I have PNES [starts convulsing]"

"slimes are stupid idiots that don't abide by the laws of the light" in response: "napalm will fix that"

"Cause I'm a nosy little cunt... and also I was bored"

"The hubris of thick boots comes for us all in the desert"

"eh I'm not really craving sweets rn" in response:"WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY BOYFRIEND"

"you literary whore"

"HOW DO THEY COVER THEIR FISH CLOACAS LET THEM WEAR CLOTHES"

"i already had the cute part down pat, I just needed the violence"

"This bitch got smited by a gnome"

"Ohhh I am... I am overcome with a sudden lust for chicken nuggets"

"AND EVEN IF IT IS NOT CANON, IT IS CANON IN MY HEART." followed shortly after by "...I can feel myself becoming more autistic by the moment." (positive)

"christianity is OUT, fish semantics is IN and BOY IS IT HOT!"

"I NEED TO UNDERSTAND FISH RESPIRATION FOR MY FANFIC"

"I can't believe I just invented merfolk racism"

"Not only will you be my poor little meow meow, you will be the world's poor little meow meow"

"btw i think i might work in some magnolia symbolism for your character because old"

"anyways this manwhore is done working it yelling about pvc pipes and other disregards for fire safety"

"I want to get she/her'd as if it's an inside joke. I want to get he/him'd as if I'm on thin fucking ice."

"every day is a nintendo day for your ass"

"do you ever get the urge to just... paint your ceiling?"

"Gender does not matter when it comes to ass-whooping"

"you only live once... and if you do it right once is enough"

Me: "There is no 9/11 in Stardew Valley!" my bestie: "...there could be."[Screaming ensues]

"I am already in so much pain and I am all out of bubble wrap"

"We're not moving the entire timeline so we can have Stardew Valley 9/11"

"I'm supposed to be the whore here, you whore"

"I wasn't trying to cause constant pain. it just... happened."

"VEHICULAR MANSLAUGHTER HELL YEAH"

"'more professionally' he says while being a dumbass"

"My gender is, 'Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?'"

"i got picked on but it just made me stronger and more evil"

"there's no dodging an earthquake"

"Elliott. My darling dearest love. Shut the fuck up."

"🎵~Fuck you, you're getting shit done~🎵"

"it's my ass i have every right to slap it"

"Yeehonk"

"No nips tiny tits and no belly button"

"save my wife from the nefarious fish"

"meatspace friends"

*can be replaced with a noun or maybe another kind of word if you're willing to make grammar your jungle gym

#byrd chirps #stt #stt spoilers #(potentially???)

0 notes

sevendeadlymorons · 4 years

Note

hello! can i request for the brother and undateables (if you don’t want simeon is just okay) headcanons for seeing mc sketches book and mc drew some positions with them? thank you! (sorry if i bothered you and my english is not will)

Sorry for the delay in writing your request, i really like this idea and I will get right on it for you :)

You absolutely did not bother me whatsoever and your English was great btw x

Brothers + Undateables Reaction to Seeing MC’s Sketchbook

——————————————————

Lucifer

Saw it lying on your desk when he came in to clean your room

He was never one to pry but he eventually found himself flicking through the pages of the book

Each page was filled with sketches of flowers or scenery or the cats that wander outside the house

He was so intrigued by these intricate drawings of yours, finding himself rather impressed by the skill you had

Around about the end, he notices sketches of his brothers, each in particular poses, drawn in such beautiful detail

He smiles to himself as he continues to flick through multiple pages of Asmo, not really surprised that he’s the main model of your drawings

That’s when he came across one of him

It was him sitting down in his study, enjoying the sound of one of his records. He didn’t even know you drew him.

It looked so real, like it was a photo. The way the shading was so perfect and how you drew his small smile so delicately. Incredible.

He was so taken back, he had to see more

Walks past you in the corridor with your sketchbook behind his back

I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if he borrowed it for a little while

Mammon

Bust into your room to tell you about this massive loss he had gambling again but you weren’t there

He looked around but all he could find was a singular book lay open on your bed

One peek couldn’t hurt, he thought, already flicking through the contents of the book

His eyes widen as he saw more and more of your art, each drawing so filled with detail

Since when was his human so talented, and when were they planning on telling him?

He kept flicking through until he saw his brothers in several different poses

He felt kind of hurt that you’d never asked him to model for you before

Each page that went by, the more impressed he was

This has gotta be worth a lot with how incredible these drawings are

Suddenly, he reached one of him. He was surprised since you’ve never asked him to model for you so when did you draw this?

It was him smiling while counting his money in his room. He didn’t want to know how you got this to be honest

But he was amazed by the detail put in. The amount of time you must have put into this makes his cheeks blush like crazy at the thought of you drawing something so time consuming for him

He ran out, notebook to chest, flicking through the pages with a goofy smile on his face in his room

Leviathan

Didn’t mean to snoop, just casually found it open on your desk so how could he resist...

His jaw dropped as he flicked through, admiring the never ending sketches of scenery or animals

Literally woooaaahhh’s in his head after looking at each drawing

Gets to his brothers drawings and he’s amazed

You can draw realistic too??!

His mind is running wild at the thought of you drawing all his favourite anime characters

Wonders if there’s any of him but he can’t remember you asking him to pose for any so he gets sorta upset

Who’d want to draw a yucky otaku like him anyway

Continues to flick through, still trying to get over how good the one before was until he sees the one on the next page and he’s starting all over again

In complete awe at how incredible they all were, each detail perfect and the facial features were sharp and precise every single time

Onto the next page and he felt his heart beat out of his chest. No way, could it be...

It was a drawing of him, focused on his game with this concentrated look on his face. When did you even draw that?! He feels his entire face burning up as he stares at himself. You drew him so well...

Clutches the book to his chest, very very close to tears, and runs off to find you to ask you to draw him and Ruri-Chan

Satan

Walks past and sees you drawing in this little book so peeps over your shoulder to see what you were doing

He’s overcome with surprise as he stares at your beautiful drawing of the flower that was sitting on the table in front of you

He crosses his arms on top of your head and laughs as you jump out of your seat, holding the notebook tightly to your chest

He apologise for snooping but tells you how incredible he thinks your art is, watching your face closely as it turns red

He asks if he can see more as your current drawing had intrigued him, and held out his hand to you

You hesitate but happily hand it over, sitting back down and patting the seat next to you

You watch as he flicks through, his eyebrows raising every few times, then looking over and flashing you a smile

Why didn’t he know about this? These drawings were incredible

He especially liked the drawings of the stray cats outside, as his face lit up, pointing and telling you the names of the ones you drew

When he got to his brothers, he couldn’t help but be massively impressive at the intricate detail you put into them as well as the unique poses you put them in to

He doesn’t remember you asking him to pose for anything but he continues to flick through, hopeful

As he flick the page, he comes face to face with a drawing of him. His eyes widen as he scans over the drawing of him holding a book between his fingers as his face looking tranquil and calm.

He looks over at you who had a nervous face, obviously trying to figure out if he liked it or not, to which he smiles widely and tells you he’ll be borrowing it as he’d really like to see more

Asmodeus

You left a book in his room after he’d finished paining your nails

He went to go return it to you when he felt the sudden urge to take a peek inside before hand

Maybe it’s something erotic, he thinks, as he begins to open the book on his bed

When he first sees your drawings, it’s so much better than anything erotic he’s ever seen

His lips twist into a sweet smile as he flicks through the book, his hand resting on his chin, making small humming noises every few seconds

He never knew you were an artist!

The drawings of his brothers were beautiful and he felt sorta jealous that he hasn’t seen a single one of him yet

He desperately turned page after page, searching for drawings of him

At the final page, he finally saw himself. He was speechless as he stares at the incredibly drawn masterpiece of him.

It was of him sitting sweetly on the couch, looking at his freshly paint nails with delight, the drawing perfectly capturing the mood of the moment

He squeals as he hugs the book to his chest as if it was his prized possession

He goes running after you to ask if he could model for more of your art as it was love at first sight

Beelzebub

On his daily snoop around in your room for snacks when he saw a small notebook on your desk

He didn’t want to invade your privacy but he was just too tempted, one peek wouldn’t hurt

He opened it and was greeted by your incredible art. He stopped eating and stared at it, completely in shock at how good they were

He kept flicking through all your little quick draws. Flowers, animals and food. He especially liked those ones

When he came across his brothers, all in these complex poses, he smiled wide and began flicking through to find him, quite excited to see what you drew for him

He went past Belphie’s and a sweet smile spread across his face as he imagined you trying to keep him awake so you could draw him

He kept flipping through but there was still no sign of him. He felt sorta left out at that thought but kept on going through hopefully

Finally, on the very last page, was a drawing of him. It wasn’t like any of his brothers tho, it was him completely in his zone

He had a burger in his hand and was going in to bite down on it, a grin plastered on his lips as the perfect detail showed joy in his eyes

He stares on, wide eyed. This was amazing. He wanted to keep it and store it somewhere so he could look at it forever

Picks up the book to go find you, wandering around like an excited puppy

He was going to give you the biggest hug you’ve ever experienced

Belphegor

Was asleep on the sofa opposite you when the sound of a pencil sketching on a piece of paper woke him up, so he opens his eyes and begins to sit up, rubbing his eyes and looking towards where the sound was coming from

Immediately sees you drawing away into a book, to which he raises his eyebrow and walks behinds you to take a peek

You didn’t seem to notice him getting up as you were completely focused on your sketch so he looks over your shoulder to see a sketch of... him.

Were you just drawing him sleeping?

Thought it was sorta cute actually

He admired how you delicately put in extra minor details that made the drawing look so realistic to him

He couldn’t take his eyes off it, your drawing was incredible

And you drew him lookin good too

You felt something tickle your neck so you turned around quickly to see Belphie peering over your shoulder, staring straight at your art, a big smile plastered on his smug face

Your face burns up in embarrassment as you realise he saw you drawing him sleeping but he just responds with a small laugh and a pat on the head as he jumps over the couch to sit next to you, offering out his hand in a way of saying “let me see”

He flicks through all your nature sketches and the ones of him and Beel, not really bothering about his other brothers, a persistent smile on his lips and a hand glued to your thigh

He was impressed, but surprised he never knew. He really wanted to take it so he could look at it more

So he did just that. Stood up, sketchbook in hand, straight towards the attic to binge through every single drawing in there

Diavolo

You came over to him and asked him to hold your book while you went to go do something, to which he agreed and carried on with his work

He kept eying it on the desk next to him. He’s never been one to snoop, but he couldn’t help but look at it

He flicked through the pages, each one filled to the brim with sketches, doodles and beautiful portraits

He couldn’t believe his eyes, you drew these?

The artwork was captivating, so stunning and detailed with each one he flipped through

He chose well when he picked you to be his exchange student, so talented

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of you putting the brothers into these poses and making them sit still for hours while you drew them

He found that a smile appeared on his face as he looked at all the antics the brothers get into which you skilfully drew to savour the moment

That’s when he found himself. Sat graciously on his throne with a huge grin on his face. The detail so incredible it looked almost real. His jaw dropping slightly at the mere sight of it

When was this drawn?

But he didn’t care, he was smiling giddily at it. Honoured you’d spend your personal time drawing him

He knows who his next royal artist is going to be

Barbatos

Diavolo had a little party organised for you and the brothers and when he saw you enter with a book lodged under your arm, he was rather intrigued

Watches as you walk out mid way through the event to an empty room, book still in hand, and so he decides to follow you in case you wanted company

Walks in to see you, pencil in hand, scribbling away at the book

He sits next to you and you jump, startled at his sudden presence

He asks what it is you’re doing and stares down at your open book, watching his eyebrows raise in surprise at your art work

Your face flushes pink as he offers out his hand, asking to see more. You nod and hand it over to him, watching him flick through the pages

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Your art was excellent and so detailed. Even the small sketches were near perfection

He looks over at you and flashes you a small genuine smile of delight

When he sees the drawings of the brothers, he chuckles and compliments you on how well drawn they are

When he turned the next page, he didn’t expect to see himself though

He was sat cross legged with a cup of tea in his fingers, his face visibly delighted

He clears his throat in surprise, hiding the obvious grin on his lips, and hands it back to you, giving you a small pat on the shoulder as he exits the room

He was amazed. He’ll be mentioning this to Diavolo for sure

Simeon

You honestly come to the angel whenever you need peace from the brothers, so he’s seen you sketching away in that little pad of yours several times, but never actually seen what’s inside of it

One day, you got up to go get something and asked him to look after the book for you, to which he nodded and held the book in his lap

Now... Simeon never snoops, but looking down at your sketchbook, curiosity took over him

He opened it and lay it on his lap, staring down at the multiple little drawings you had scattered on one page

He smiles and turns to the next page, once again greeted by more of your amazing drawings of cats, birds, trees, followers and the House of Lamentation

He keeps turning the page, drawing after drawing, each one seemingly getting better than the last

When he saw the little drawing of Luke he couldn’t help but chuckle at how sweet he looked. He’d have to ask you if he could keep it later

Then he saw the brothers and he admired how well you drew them all, each detail drawn to perfection. He most enjoyed their demon forms and how beautiful they all looked

As soon as he flicked to a drawing of him, he stopped in his tracks, staring down at your sketch in disbelief

He didn’t care too much about when you drew it, all he cared about was how astonishing you made him look

He was stood with his hand on his hip, a small smile displayed on his face as his cloak carefully draped around his arms

He put the book back before you re-entered the room. He’ll ask you if he could take another look later

Solomon

Couldn’t help but notice you sketching something in class, since you share a lot of them together and it happens almost every lesson

He doesn’t really care at first but when he finds it laying on the table after you’d forgotten it, he couldn’t help but look

First couple of pages were filled with small sketches and he was pretty impressed. He does a bit of doodling and draws his summoning circles himself so looking at your art was pretty intriguing to him

When he sees the drawing of the brothers, he realises you’ve actually got a hell of a talent for drawing

He decides to go find you and return it, but he’ll keep flicking through as he walks, because he’d really like to see more

As he’s walking and flicking through, a smile begins to form on his face as he sees sketches of Luke and Simeon having a tea party together, something he knew went on weekly with the 3 of you

He stops walking as he stumbles across something he never expected to see

It was him, practising his spells with a focused look on his face

He has absolutely no clue when you drew you and honestly, slightly creeped out

Ignores it though since the drawing of him came out pretty good and the details you put on his face were incredibly done. He felt himself blush slightly at the fact you actually took the time to draw him

Eventually found you and yelled out your name, waving the sketchbook in his hand as he watched you rush over, your cheeks burning red as you cover your face. He smiles sweetly as he walks off

This guy couldn’t get any more sketchy even if he tried

Luke

Simeon needed to talk to Lucifer, so he brought Luke along since he was bored. He started wandered the house when those two began talking about things he didn’t understand.

He reaches your room and knocks on the door, but there was no answer, so he let himself in

Kid can’t keep his hands to himself, he’s touchin everything he sees. So when he sees a book on your desk, he can’t help himself

Sits on your bed and opens it, his eyes widening as he’s greeted by several incredible sketches

He’s having the time of his life flicking through them all, going through flower after flower, the stray cats he sees outside the house and of course, the demons

He thought all the drawings were the coolest things he’s ever seen in his life

He had to show Simeon

He was about to go running to show him when one of them caught his eye. It was a drawing of him?

He was stood on a stool baking his cakes. The intricate details standing out, making him gawk in awe. He didn’t know when you drew this, but he didn’t care. You made him look amazing

The drawing of him made his eyes tear up, he was so so happy that you drew him

Wiped his eyes and clung to the book, running into the room where Simeon was so he could show him your beautiful drawings too

This was so damn fun to write, but fuck did it take days to do :,)

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me leviathan #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me belphie #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #obey me dateables

2K notes · View notes

aphrostarot · 3 years

Text

Future Self Pick a Pile

What does your future self have to say to you?

Remember that this is a general reading and some things may not apply to you. Do not try and force it to fit. If you would like a personal reading I am currently offering free readings. Dm me if you are interested!

Pile One (Fuchsite):

Who are you currently?

The Chariot:

You are constantly striving to achieve your dreams. Constantly on the move, never stopping for anything. You are extremely strong-willed and fearless. Despite not yet fulfilling all your dreams, you are confident nonetheless.

What does your future self have to thank you for?

Temperance:

Since you are constantly striving for success, you don't have time to strive for happiness. You instead live a life of contentment. This is good. The degrees of happiness fluctuates, but contentment is a state of equilibrium, which means there is less risk of things going wrong. Your future self wants to thank you for this. Your constant state of equilibrium has helped you become who you are meant to be.

What does your future self want you to focus on?

Emperor:

Emperors are in charge, and they are surrounded by people who listen to what they have to say. Your future self says that you need to focus on taking charge and being in control. Your future self is showing me that you are in a position of authority and that you should practice being a boss now in order to improve your leadership skills for the future.

Page of Swords:

The Page of Swords is a signal that someone in your life does not have your best interest at heart. They are spying on you in order to feed the people who do not like you. Your future self wants you to pay attention to this, to concentrate on finding out who it is; if you know who it is then you can either try to free yourself from that person or fix the relationship. Note that this person does not have to be literally in your life; they can also be someone who follows you on social media.

What does your future self want you to cut out?

Ten of Pentacles:

From the energy I feel coming from you, I get the impression that you are a person who, yes, keeps moving toward their dreams of success, but you are also always changing what you view as successful. You never stop to realize that who you are right now is who your past self never dreamed you could be. You need to realize that your future self does not recommend this mindset. It's important to slow down and realize what you've accomplished.

Some advice your future self has for you:

Queen of Wands (reversed):

If the Queen of Wands is reversed, it indicates someone who is demanding, vengeful, jealous, selfish, and a bully. In your life, perhaps you know someone like this, and your future self wants you to let this person go since you know deep down that this person isn't healthy for you and shouldn't be in your life, so now's the time to do so. Some of you don't know who this person is, which means that your future self wants you to know that if you don't heed their advice, you will become this person.

Oracle:

Storm:

Every hurricane has an end, says this card. Your future self is telling you that you should maintain your equilibrium and not stress too much about whether you will succeed or not. If anything bad happens in the future, your future self wants you to know that you will get through anything that comes your way.

Shark:

In this card, the message is that you need to get out of this situation quickly. When you hold the mentality that you are constantly striving for success, you will never allow yourself to slow down and realize that where you are now is what your past self could never have imagined.

Pile Two (Amethyst):

Who are you currently?

Eight of Wands:

Currently, you are highly motivated to achieve your goals, and you aren't afraid of change. You are moving through life very quickly. Your motivation comes from your excitement about what lies ahead. Additionally, you may have noticed that your communication has been much better lately than it has been in the past. You're more motivated to write, post on social media, and respond to emails.

What does your future self have to thank you for?

Queen of Swords:

This Queen doesn’t let anyone walk all over them and everyone around them knows where they stand with them. Those are the qualities that define you. Being an advocate for yourself and making sure you are treated properly are two of your strengths. Your future self wants to thank you for that.

The Lovers:

Given that you know what kind of treatment you deserve, it makes sense that you love yourself. The most important thing is to love yourself. In your eyes, if no one likes you, then it is okay because you love yourself. Because you give yourself that kind of love, you know what kind of love you deserve. Your future self wants to also thank you for that.

What does your future self want you to focus on?

Ace of Cups:

Since you know what kind of love you deserve, you refuse to settle for less which is great, but you have reached a point in your life where you believe no one will ever be what you need, so you have stopped looking. Your future self wants you to start looking again because there is someone out there that will give you the love you deserve. According to the energy I'm receiving from them, you will find someone one day who makes you happy and loves you the way you deserve. They don’t want you to give up on love because you may miss out on this.

What does your future self want you to cut out?

The Sun:

Presently, you think that only you can make yourself happy, and that is not a healthy way to live. Let other people make you happy because that's what your future self wants. It is not necessary for you to be the only one in your life. It is okay to let others in.

The Well:

This goes along with The Sun. Taking care of yourself does not necessarily mean you're the only one doing it. It's okay to let other people into your life. It is okay to let other people care for you.

Some advice your future self has for you:

Eight of Cups:

Your future self wants you to let go of the idea that you only have you in your life and that is how it will always be. They want you to accept others into your life, accept love from others because others can give you the love you deserve it doesn’t have to always be you.

Two of Pentacles:

They want you to have a sense of balance in your life. Although you have been alone for so long and that is what makes you happy, there may still be a part of you that hopes someone will break through your walls and make you happy. The problem is that you never allow anyone into your life, so this never happens. According to your future self, you need to find balance, and the best way to do this is to slowly let people into your life.

Oracle:

Feast:

This card urges you to slow down and enjoy your life. You've been living life so fast and focusing on making yourself happy that you haven't realized how much you have accomplished. You are constantly on the move trying to fill the void that you do not realize how much you have accomplished for yourself. It is important to your future self that you slow down and acknowledge how far you have come.

Escapist:

This card's message is to come home to yourself. You have been running for so long trying to fill your void that you don't even realize where you are now. Take a break from that constant running and recognize that you don't have to fill that void constantly by running, but taking a break can fill it too.

Pile Three (Amazonite):

Who are you currently?

Five of Pentacles:

Currently, you are going through a very dark period. There have been many sudden losses for you, and this has made you very depressed. The last few months have been tough for you and you haven't felt like yourself because of it.

What does your future self have to thank you for?

Seven of Swords:

No matter what you've been through in your life, you've never let it stop you. No matter what happens, you continue to fight and stand your ground. As the card of betrayal, you may have had someone in your life who was not healthy for you, they did not treat you the way you deserved. Your future self wants to thank you for being so strong and overcoming all of your struggles.

What does your future self want you to focus on?

Knight of Wands:

The card of enthusiasm. Although your future self knows that you have endured a lot in your life, they say that now is not the time to give up hope because you will get through this. Your focus should be on finding enthusiasm for your life again, that's what they want.

What does your future self want you to cut out?

Seven of Wands:

The Seven of Wands is the card of fights. Someone in your life is causing you a lot of drama. You should cut this person out of your life, according to your future self. They say they are not healthy for you and that your life will be much better when they are not around.

Some advice your future self has for you:

The Sun:

It's time to find happiness again. The most important thing is to figure out what makes you happy right now and to allow yourself to feel that happiness because yes, you have been through a lot, but that doesn't mean you don't need happiness because you do.

Oracle:

Homeward:

This is the card that tells you to take yourself out on a date. To love yourself in the way that you deserve because you do deserve it. Take care of yourself right now. Do something that makes you happy. Do a self-care night, run a bath or shower, lather yourself up in some nice smelling lotion, and put some comfy clothes on. Watch a movie or tv show that you have always wanted to.

Sun:

The sun can always be painted back into your sky. It is up to you to discover and pursue your own happiness. It is not necessary to live in sadness forever. Remember that good mental health is a journey, not a destination. You can get through this, and there will always be things that make you happy. All you have to do is figure out what they are right now. Finding something new to make you happy will assist, it doesn't need to be what made you happy in the past.

Though tips are not required, they are very much appreciated. Thank you!

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karmelek-writes · 3 years

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comfort zone I part 3

Harrison Osterfield x fem!reader, Tom Holland x fem!reader

Synopsis: What do you do when you love them but want someone else?

Word count: 4,5k

Warnings: angst, swearing, suggestive comments, mentions of sex, smut, adult themes

A/N: Hey guys! This is part three of the "comfort zone". I wanted to thank you all again for supporting me and commenting, reblogging, and liking the series! Also, sorry for the delay. The next part will come out on Friday, as usual. Let me know what you think of this part! (sorry for any mistakes, English is not my native language plus this part wasn't proofreaded)

Love, W 🖤

When you entered Tom's bedroom you immediately felt your tensed body softening as the smell of Tom intoxicated your senses. There wasn't another place on this earth you felt more comfortable in than his room. It wasn't big but the cream-painted walls and huge mirror in the middle made it seem vaster. There wasn't much furniture, just all the necessities, but you had to admit that Tom had been keeping his room clean and fresh. It was typical, yet lego Death Star set and spiderman figures arranged neatly on a bedside table screamed Tom. You kept teasing him about this but in reality, you found it endearing. The souvenirs he brought home from the places he had visited were dusting on the shelf, reminding him of good old days having fun on set and hanging out with the cast after work. What always got your attention was his cartoon figure leaning on the wall next to his bed. He got it for his birthday after landing the role of spiderman as a joke from Harrison, his brothers, and you. Even when Tom was younger everyone knew he was born to act. His family and friends would tease him about it calling him a movie star which always made him fuss around. When he finally made it to Hollywood, you all knew what you had to do. You told him that you all had a surprise purposely hyping it up. Judging by his reaction you expected him to throw it out but he kept it. At times Tom was a nerd but it made you like him even more because despite becoming a literal movie star, he never stopped being this little cute boy who still slept in spiderman pj's he was gifted on his 19th birthday.

The cartoon figure was what you were looking at when Tom cleared his throat and locked the door. The action made you turn around to glance at him with confusion written all over your face. His focused gaze and sudden shift of behaviour confirmed your suspicion that it was going to be a serious conversation.

"So… Are we going to talk about what happened?" Tom's nervous voice rang in your ears making your heart rate speed up. You knew that was the moment you had to confront him about your feelings. “Because for the last couple of days I’ve been thinking about everything. I would hate to leave like that.”

“I know,” you sighed mentally preparing yourself to recite the speech you’ve created in your mind in advance. “Look, ever since I met you I feel like my life has gotten better. I never thought I would have such an amazing person in my life,” in the corner of your eye you saw Tom smiling excitedly at your compliment. His honey-brown eyes were sparkling and you had to stop yourself from hugging him and running your hand through his messy curls. “What happened between us was sudden and I’ve said it already, I don’t regret it. Actually, I’m quite happy with how things turned out,” you chucked at the end hoping it would relieve the stress and hesitation in your voice. Your words were all that brunette needed to confirm that you wanted him as much as he wanted you. In the room illuminated by the moonlight, Tom’s silhouette moved closer to you. Having approached you, he touched your exposed arm and traced his fingers up so gently as if he was scared he would break you if he pushed harder. His hand on your body caused shivers to appear and a slight flush crept into your cheeks. You hated and loved the contact silently hoping he would give you more. It seemed like your thoughts were heard as Tom slowly but confidently started to walk you backwards until you fell on his unmade bed. He leaned as close as he could, placing both arms on the sides of your head making it impossible for you to escape.

"I don't want to leave you here," he fussed, highly aware that the next few weeks were going to be hell without you lulling him to sleep, inquisitively going on and on about your day. Resisting the urge to pout you tried to overcome the feeling of sadness slowly accumulating in your chest.

"And I don't want you to leave," a deep sigh escaped your lips, pushing back the thought of him flying away the following day. "But we are here now, so what are you going to do about it?" you extended your arm to grasp Tom's messy curls, daring him to cross the boundary unconsciously set up the moment you've become friends to dive in the pleasure. Tom didn't give you a verbal answer, but knowing that actions speak louder than words, he lowered himself to place a soft kiss on the crook of your neck. The cracked lips caused a wave of shivers to run down your spine, your stomach dropping as you felt sudden wetness between your legs. Mixed with the wet marks left by Tom's tongue, the sensation made your eyes shut, spots emerging in front of them. All your senses were keen, escalating the intensity of the experience.

Tom was determined to work you up as he unhurriedly worshiped your body. A deep moan followed by a throaty “fuck” were the sounds at which you opened your eyes. Your longing stare met Tom’s one and you could swear right then, right there you had never seen a more mesmerising sight. Brunette’s once soft strands now had stuck to his forehead glistening from the sweat. His usually pale cheeks were now painted deep pink - a result of his unholy thoughts combined with the sight of your perfectly shaped body. Eyes dark with desire, hungry to capture every inch of your figure. You noticed beads of sweat dripping on your already wet chest, your shirt clinging to your torso enhancing curves you’d work so hard on at the gym. Lifting yourself on your elbows you signed to Tom to help you strip. You weren’t a self-conscious person, nor were you hesitant to show your figure, but you didn’t like to preen yourself on it. However, you felt the rush of confidence wash over as you caught Tom lustful ogling and wanted to take control of the situation. Shifting from underneath you poked Tom’s chest and pushed him to lay down. Foggy mind and the burn you’d felt on the skin still were dislimning your senses causing you to clumsily collapse at the top of Tom in your attempt to straddle him. Silent ouchs followed by a breathy laugh falling from the boy’s lips made your heart clunch in embarrassment. Much to your surprise, he kissed you as if he wanted to assure you that he didn’t find your awkwardness unnerving. In the few seconds of your make-out session, you recomposed yourself and broke the kiss wanting more as the throbbing between your legs became unbearable.

In the heat of a moment, you took off your bra leaving your breasts exposed for Tom to admire. You didn’t miss how his pupils dilated and his mouth went dry just by gaping at you. This fueled up your nerve leaving no place for doubt and hesitation in your mind. Shamelessly, you rocked your hips against his own at a slow pace. Grunts and scratchy moans could be heard, falling from Tom’s lips like prayers begging for your pleasure. With his eyes shut and fists clenched, he couldn’t look more beautiful, more vulnerable, falling into pieces for you. Finding pleasure in the position and the power you hold over him, you let yourself get lost in the bliss of his hard cock sliding through your folds, the tip teasing your sensitive clit in a steady motion. Wrapping his arm around your waist, Tom lifted himself until he was on an eye level with your chest, his mouth immediately clinging to your breasts, tongue swirling around your hardened nipple. Slowing down your pace, you cupped Tom's face and connected your lips in an aggressive kiss, teeth brushing and tongues intertwined. Fighting for dominance, Tom flipped you so that he was on top. Groaning, you brought him impossibly close leaving no space between your sweaty and hot bodies. Tom's little whimpers were more often now that he was thrusting into your hips, trying to bring himself closer to the limit. Knowing you couldn't last much longer you moved your hand to slip it into your undergarment only for Tom to stop you to do it himself. He licked his fingertips and shoved it into your panties, rubbing your clit in circles.

“That’s okay, cum for me baby,” Tom muttered, trying hard to catch his breath. Completely lost in the moment, you obeyed his command and let go of the tight knot that formed in your stomach. The sensation of Tom’s body pressing against you and his fingers playing with the heart of your femininity caused you to almost black out, starts appearing in front of your eyes. Letting out a pornographic moan, you tried to arch your back gripping the sheets so hard your skin turned white. You couldn’t tell for how long you were wiggling under your best friend’s body but it felt like hours until you were able to get back to reality.

Coming down from your high you took notice of a wet stain on Tom’s trousers. You opened your mouth to say something but he cut you off offering you some fresh clothes and a glass of water. Not thinking much, you accepted his little acts of care and walked past him to change in the bathroom.

Having closed the door, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and tried to calm your racing heart. While you were getting dressed Tom was silently freaking out. He could’t believe that you went this far. It still felt like a dream to him. At that moment he hated his lifestyle, he hated his profession that required him to fly away the following morning, splitting you up in the worst time. Maybe he could convince you to go with him? No, it was crazy. You had your life here, it wouldn’t be fair to take it away.

Tom’s running thoughts were cut off by the click of the door followed by your silhouette emerging from the room with a small smile. Tom returned the gesture and nodded at the bed, silently asking if you wanted to lay down with him. Getting back on the soft mattres, you let out a sigh contemplating if you should bring up your feelings. Truthfully speaking, you didn’t know how to act and it seemed like so did Tom. He sat down at the foot of the bed, facing away from you. He was scratching the nape of his neck - a habit that always betrayed his nervosity. He then suddenly stopped and it seemed like he came to terms with himself as he turned around to look at you with tears threatening to fall from his eyes and imperceptibly bleeding lip. He had to bite it to prevent it from trembling but the pressure was hard enough to rip the fragile skin of an organ. You couldn’t read anything from the look on his face and it scared you. Not thinking much you embraced him from behind placing your forehead against the side of his face. You wanted him to feel you, to detect that you were there for him.

“I-I don’t want to l-leave,” a broken stutter left his lips, repeating the words he had used before.

“I know, but people expect you to go,” you whispered to him, slowly rocking you two from side to side to the sound of the clock tickling and driving cars coming from outside the window.

“Tell me something that will make me stay,” his words echoed in the quiet room, so desperate and calling for help. Not thinking much you blurred out the first thing that came to your mind.

“I think I’m falling in love with you and that scares me but I don’t want you to go either,” before you got a chance to register your confession, Tom wrenched himself away from you to see if you were serious. He definitely wasn’t in the mood for jokes so when he identified your stoned expression he knew you meant every single word. Suddenly, a way of regret and pity washed over him, not being sure how to tell you the truth without breaking your heart.

“I… That’s… Um…” he tried to initiate the conversation but his mind was so fogged from regret and miscomprehension.

“You don’t feel the same?” you more of stated with so much heartbreak in your voice it took everything in Tom not to lie and tell you he’s always loved you to fix his mistakes. He stopped himself from it because you deserved something better than that. On the spur of the moment, he cupped your face hoping it would help him get to you easier.

“I love you, I really do but…” he couldn’t finish the sentence. It would kill him to watch your face fall with disappointment and sorrow, let down by the only guy who promised to cherish you forever.

“You don’t have to say anything more. I understand,” pushing Tom away from you, you got up making your way to the door wishing to get away from him as soon as possible. You were hurt beyond your expectations. All of the little moments you shared, the kiss, tonight, it meant nothing. You were livid at yourself, you didn’t know for what more - being so stupid to believe that he could ever love you or that he would ever want you for something more than just an easy fuck. Fueled by the sudden anger you turned to Tom with disgust painted all over your face. “Was I just a girl you wanted to try for a day and dump? Was I just good fun for you? Did you have fun playing with me?”

“God, no! I didn’t mean it to happen! I just did and I’m sorry, okay? Just please sit down and let me explain,” you were extremely angry but you needed answers so you stayed in your place, waiting for Tom to continue. “I tried so hard to love you. It just never felt right like there was something missing and I-I don’t k-know what it is but that doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you. I do love you, can’t you see that?” you didn’t reply for a few seconds and Tom started to get nervous. “Please, say something.”

“Can you try again?” you asked in a small voice. You kept your arms around yourself feeling uncomfortable out of the blue, your black socks suddenly becoming amusing sight to look at.

“Can I try what again?” confusion was evident in Tom’s tone. He knew he was losing you and he needed to do everything to keep you by his side.

“Try to love me.” silence filled the room as you asked the unfortunate question hoping for the answer you already knew you couldn’t get. But it was worth trying, wasn’t it?

“I’m sorry but I don’t think I can,” the words were hard for Tom to get out, a lump forming in his throat.

“Okay,” was all you muttered and at that moment Tom realised he fucked up. “I should go already, it’s late and you have to catch an early plane so…” you trailed hoping that he will get a hint.

“Please, wait!” he ran up to you as you were to exit his bedroom to wrap his arms around you in one last hug before he would leave. “I will keep calling every day, I don’t care if you don’t pick up or block my number. I will always try to get to you. You’re my oxygen, I need you,” if you were in a different situation Tom’s deep sobs would make your heart ache and feel sorry for him, rushing to lighten up his mood but now you didn’t have any of those thoughts. You just felt numb at his praying, a strange feeling settling in your stomach feeling his touch.

“Please, don’t become a stranger,” Was Tom selfish? Yes, but desperate situations require desperate attempts.

Freeing yourself from the brunette's tight embrace, you looked him in the eye for the last time and left the room wishing him good luck at his new job. He didn’t try and call for you, nor did he run after you. He stared at you silently tiptoeing downstairs avoiding contact with other people. You needed to talk about everything like adults but he knew you needed time and he was willing to give you that. He just wished he wasn’t leaving.

================================================

“Okay so… do you think we have all the stuff we need?” Harrison looked at you, having put your bag in the backseat.

“Yeah, granted that you didn’t forget to bring your big ego” you tried to joke and lift the mood but you knew it didn’t work when Harrison made a face at you. Since your not-so-nice exchange with Tom, you haven’t been in a pleasant mood. You knew that what he did wasn’t cool, but that didn’t stop you from missing him. You took off your phone, glancing at it for the twentieth time in the past thirty minutes only to see that you haven’t gotten any notifications. He said he would call. You felt stupid waiting for the guy who clearly didn’t want you and didn’t even bother to talk things out with you. You must have stared at your phone for a little too long because you heard Harrison clear his throat and saw him giving you a knowing look. You only rolled your eyes and put your phone back in your pocket.

“You can’t keep doing this, you know?” the blonde tried to take up a conversation with you. He knew something was up between you and Tom. He knew when you would stop smiling at him when he cracked jokes or when you stopped mentioning Tom in your conversations, or when he noticed Tom tensing at every mention of your name. He tried to get any pieces of information from his best friend but the brunette would always say that you were busy and that it wasn’t his business. Maybe it wasn’t Harrison’s place to be noisy but he had to admit that your careless aura was making him worry. Even when you were upset you acted more lively than now. He was aware that the matter was serious, he just didn’t know how to make it better… and he wanted to make it better for you.

During the last few weeks, your relationship progressed. Since Tom was constantly working, he didn’t have much time to call or text. And even if he did it seemed as if he wanted to spend it with other people. You couldn’t make out what went wrong in your relationship but you knew it was serious when Tom stopped making any effort. You’ve never seen him acting so indifferent towards you and it scared you. However, the lack of interaction between you two brought you closer to Harrison. You almost forgot how significant part of your life he was. Despite your sour mood, you enjoyed the time spent with him. He always made you laugh and feel needed. Your banter didn’t stop but it has changed into something softer and domestic. You found out that you didn’t mind it at all. Harrison still would do little things to drive you insane like casually tracing his fingers along your neck while putting a loose strain of your hair behind your ear or lowering his hand a bit too much than necessary while hugging you but it didn’t seem so unfamiliar and strange anymore. Talking to him almost daily, you learned to be more comfortable around him. To the point where you would hold his hand sometimes and stay over at his apartment after a long session of studying. That, however, didn’t mean that you couldn’t be playful. You knew that Harrison was as invested in your little game as you were. The rules may have changed a bit but it was still on. You had no idea what it meant for your friendship but it was too intoxicating to stop. Now that Tom was not there you could let yourself fully focus on it. You loved the feeling of uncertainty and on the other hand, you wanted to see how far you could push Harrison’s buttons. You were curious how much of it he could handle and if he would snap at some point. You couldn’t help yourself but subtly torture him with your slight touches during movie nights or walking around without a bra. You liked how worked up he always got. He would try to keep it together and act classy in front of you but eventually, you would catch him checking you out. In a way, it all felt wrong but all his attention was on you and you couldn’t help but feel good having this power over him.

When you got in the car you put on some music and looked outside the window. You didn’t want to talk to Harrison about your issues, especially not your issues with Tom so you tried to ignore his questions. Harrison, on the other hand, couldn’t find a way to make you open up to him. You two talked but he also wanted to support you when you weren’t feeling like you could handle things yourself. He remembered how Tom would complain about you being too secretive, even though you’ve known each other for years. That’s how he knew he would have to work hard for you to warm up to him. But that was the effort he wanted to put in. In the blonde’s eyes, you were the most intriguing person he has ever met. You two first came across in the cafe he worked at. You used to go there for some tea every day after classes during your first year. He’s been watching you for some time before trying to talk to you. One day his colleague dared him to get your number after he caught Harrison drooling over you during his break. So he gathered the courage and shot his shot. You two talked until the end of his break. He tried to get your number but you gave him your Instagram account instead. Soon you started to text each other and became really good friends. He would ask for your number a few more times but you always rejected him telling him to work for it. Harrison laughed to himself and shook his head. Even at the beginning of your friendship, you bossed him around.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, a bit confused by his sudden outburst.

“I just remembered how you used to reject me when we first met.” he turned to give you a small smile and started the engine.

“Oh yeah… You were desperate,” you smirked at him, knowing it would cause a good reaction and you weren’t wrong. Harrison gasped, abruptly turning to face you with fake hurt painted on his face.

“I wasn’t desperate! I just saw a pretty girl and wanted to take her out on a date but you were playing hard to get so you lost your chance,” he said it so casually you thought you didn’t hear him right.

“You evidently hadn’t worked hard enough,” you shrugged as if you didn’t care but in reality, your heart rate has sped up. You hoped that Harrison couldn’t hear your shallow breath. You never knew he wanted to take you out on a date and you didn’t know how you felt about it. The thought of him liking you more than just a friend brought butterflies in your stomach to life, making your whole body shiver. Maybe he wanted to take you on a date before. That doesn’t mean he’s still into you.

“So what should I do to get you to agree to go on a date with me?” the knot in your stomach tightened as his voice dropped down an octave. Was it possible he was still interested after all this time?

“I thought I lost my chance,” trying to keep it cool you exhaled softly hoping that the blonde didn’t notice how you squirmed lightly in your seat.

“Well… It depends,” he moved a little bit closer to you catching eye contact.

“On what?” you whispered gently trying not to raise your voice in fear that you would interrupt the moment.

Harrison’s voice matched yours as he whispered “How hard you can work after,” Noticing your disgusted look, he started to laugh deeply.

“Oh God, your jokes are so poor,” you shook your head at him, not finding his joke amusing.

“Oh come on, I know you’ve been dreaming about it,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you. Maybe, just maybe you have thought of it once or twice but you’d rather die than admit it to him. "Besides my jokes aren't half as bad as yours"

“Whatever, Osterfield,” you tried to turn around and fasten your seat belt not in the mood to argue but he stopped your actions again.

“Hey look... I want you to have fun today, okay?” his voice softened as he took your hand in his and started to caress your palm. “I know we joke a lot and stuff.. But I really want to give you something to remember, a memory you would always smile at when thinking of it… or when thinking of me,” he chuckled as if he thought he was never on your mind. Oh, how wrong was he. “Just forget about everything and enjoy the moment. Can you do that for me?” you thought you would melt under his gaze. He was looking at you so lovingly with a dazzling smile that couldn’t make you disagree with him. You felt like his ocean blue eyes were piercing your soul, taking your breath away. After a moment you realised that you could look into them for hours memorising the way his pupils dilated when he was looking at you.

“A-alright, I will.” you stuttered but still smiled at him and held eye contact. You didn’t know it was possible but his grin got even bigger causing you to do the same.

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise,” he smiled at you for the last time and turned around to start driving. Harrison said he planned something special for you. You didn’t know what the evening was about to bring but you knew you were screwed.

Taglist: @osterfieldshollandgirl, @tom-holland-is-spiderman-archive, @harryhollandsgirlfriend, @peachyafshawn

#tom holland story #tom holland series #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfeild imagine #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfeild x reader

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riddlecrux · 3 years

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Forbidden

Day 4 of Elriel Month!

Summary: Roses and peonies blooming behind her made the scene look as if she came out of one of Feyre's paintings - otherworldly and so blindingly pure. The braid with meticulously attached pins was touching her milky nape as she lazily put a white teacup to her full lips.

He found her curled on one of the iron chairs in the garden.

Her baby blue dress rode up to her calves, one arm completely bare in the golden hue of sunset as she turned the page of a leather book with a soft hum that traveled down his spine. He could see freckles ghosting her skin as lover's kisses, a path to his undoing or maybe his salvation. Roses and peonies blooming behind her made the scene look as if she came out of one of Feyre's paintings - otherworldly and so blindingly pure. The braid with meticulously attached pins was touching her milky nape as she lazily put a white teacup to her full lips.

Her nose scrunched, yet the blush remained as she giggled at something she had read - a golden hour basking her in rays of sunshine, like a streak of lightning thundering inside his skull. Jasmine and honey attacked his nostrils when she spun her digit in one of her locks, humming.

She smelled like home.

Like a warm bed and morning kisses that lovers steal whenever they feel content - something he hadn't experienced, but craved like a hollowed beggar. That part of him was always buried deep down inside him, a box tucked behind his trauma and pain. Never to be reached, never to be unlocked. However, meeting Elain was as if the dreams he crushed behind the shadows sprung up and rattled at the tiny interior of their container.

"Lurking in the shadows doesn't work on me," his eyes found brown orbs that blazed with many emotions only to settle on longing. He felt it in his chest, a pang that echoed throughout his body leaving him breathless for a short moment. Merely nodding at her words he didn't move an inch, as if to remind himself that she was out of his reach. The thought of it squeezing his insides in an iron brand - it was hard to restrain his feelings that swept through the connection they had, a bright tether pooling between them like a self-made bridge. A howling wilderness screaming at both of them to move, to close the distance.

"As expected of my student," Azriel murmured. Her lips parted while two dimples he so loved appeared on her heart-shaped face. Yet before he decided on taking another step towards her, a flash of warning reflected in her pained stare.

The High Lord is watching.

Thick shadow curled around his neck as he tried to fight a sudden urge to shove Rhysand into his cabinet door - a looming presence of dark claws threatening to explore his thoughts, stopping him from winnowing to the office.

He is angry.

He can fuck himself, he bitterly thought as Elain quickly peered at the window on the first floor. The way her shoulder dropped made his gut clench, yet she always knew how to bring out the best of everyone so with a gentle jerk of her chin she glanced at the colorful flowers behind her.

"I'm waiting for them to bloom," her voice was small, tired. She closed the book and dared to steal another quick peek at his person before she returned to gazing at her garden. "Epiphyllum," she whispered, gesturing to a bundle of green buds, her tea long forgotten as she didn't move from her spot at all. "Have you seen them?" Her question was laced with pain and hurt, but her hands didn't shake when she leaned over the chair.

"I don't think so," he recognized roses which always reminded him of her, especially the pale pink ones or the ones sprinkled with reds and yellows. Extraordinary beauty that bewitched him, smell so tender and soft that brought memories of their shy touches and every one of their almost-kisses.

"It has an extremely short lifespan, yet many plant it to see its flowers," she explained while touching some of the leaves. "They bloom only at night," her finger tapped one of the biggest stems of the group. "Once a year," her head angled so he could see her profile. Her rosy cheeks reminded him of their stolen moments, and how easy it was to see her loveliness while she tried to overcome her anxiety and trauma. Elain always saw goodness, even in the darkest part of the world and tormented souls - that's why whenever they spent their time together, her focus would sometimes switch onto his hands. She wasn't pitying him, on the contrary, she was observing them with a soft frown as if she was studying an exhibition in a museum. As if he was art.

She said then, "Look, we match," as she shoved her palms up in the air, right below his hazel eyes. He spotted a few white and pink scars running across them, rivers of her hard work and souvenirs of angry thorns. In that particular moment, he felt that he would never love anyone as much as he loved her - the box in his chest rattling with anticipation.

Snapping out of his memories Azriel looked back at her person, only to be met with a pair of brown eyes. There were tears inside them, held in a resolution to not let them fall.

"They bloom one night and wither next morning," he curled his hands into fists as her sentence reached his heart.

"Elain," he inwardly stepped forward.

He wants you to go.

His neck snapped at the whisper, rage bubbling under his skin as he fought with an invisible order.

"A beautiful glory, short-lived yet spectacular," she stood up and faced him with a white flower in her fingers. Its petals were bright with the setting sun, almost transparent against the blue of Elain's dress. "This one bloomed early," her outstretched hand called him home.

I forbid you from approaching Elain. My. Office. Now. Rhysand's voice erupted in his temples as his palm grazed brown-haired women's one. He gently pried the flower from her and almost stumbled when she squeezed one of his digits.

"They symbolize patience," she gulped, staring straight at him. "Those who plant them wait a year to see its final momentum, a chance to see them finally blooming," her eyes held so much need and longing, yet he understood her perfectly.

With a final nod, he gathered his courage and stepped inside his shadows, leaving jasmine scented moments of tranquility and love, an orchid still in his scarred hand.

#elrielmonth #elrielmonth21 #elriel #pro elriel #pro elain #pro azriel

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miniature-space-hamster · 3 years

Text

Merweek Day Five: We Are Family

Karina Shepard is finally released from the hospital after the battle of London, and Kaidan brings her to his family home in Vancouver, where she meets his parents for the first time.

“Kaidan…” Shepard’s eyes focusing on the blur of pine that seemed to stretch endlessly from her view in the skycar, her voice sounded distant. A growing tightness filled her chest. “Are your parents going to like me?” She paused, already sounding somewhat defeated, resisting the urge to start picking at newly painted nails. She brought a finger to her mouth, seconds from chewing before stopping herself. She needed something to distract her from their destination. There was only about fifteen minutes left until they were at Kaidan’s family home.

Without breaking eye contact from the road, Kaidan gave her a crooked smile and raised eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t they, Karina?” She always seemed to surprise him with questions like this. She could face a Reaper on foot without flinching, but the thought of meeting his mother was what she worried about.

Karina wasn’t sure where to start, she sighed sharply before speaking but the noise got lost in the hum of the engines. “I mean… we were sleeping together when I was still your CO, for starters. We stole the Normandy and committed treason. Not to mention I’m the reason you got tangled with Cerberus…” She took a breath, but it didn’t feel deep enough. “How much do they even know?”

“I told my mother we were together after our date at Apollo’s.” He kept his words plain, clearly code for they didn’t know anything prior. At least no more than the average civilian.

Karina nodded, remembering Apollo’s with a slight smile threatening at the corner of tightly pulled lips. It was the closest they’ve ever gotten to normalcy during the war. A taste, albeit brief, of what was to come after the Reaper’s defeat. Kaidan was so awkward and vulnerable as he fumbled through his words. It was cute.

She finally ripped her gaze from the scenery, turning to Kaidan. “Speaking of Apollo’s, depending on how this goes I might need another sanity check.” There was a slight laugh at the end of her words, but it was strained. She tapped the door with her nails, desperately in search of stimuli to ease her anxiety. “I haven’t done anything family related in over a decade.”

Kaidan drove with one hand, reaching out for her thigh with the other and squeezed. Karina took his hand into hers before she even realized it. She focused on the strong, calloused fingers interlocked with her own. She let her free hand trace the familiar shape of his knuckles.

Kaidan knew this was going to be hard for her. She no longer had a family to call her own after Mindoir. Though he knew nothing could replace that, he wanted to at least make her feel at home with his own family.

They pulled into a driveway, past the forest of dense pine that finally brought the distant orchard into view. This was the first time he’s been home since the war. Kaidan was barely holding back a smile as he finally turned to Karina. “We’ll be fine, don’t worry. It’ll just be for the weekend.”

He hopped out of the car and made his way to Karina’s side, helping her out and grabbing her cane from the back seat, hesitating for a moment before considering getting the wheelchair in the trunk. “Are you good to walk?”

Karina gave him a slight nod, “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Kaidan sighed quietly, knowing that didn’t answer his question. She always said she was fine, regardless of whether it was true or not. He looked her up and down, trying to assess the situation himself before nodding and grabbing the cane.

The doctors didn’t expect her to be able to walk so soon after her injuries, and all the surgeries that followed the battle at London. She still struggled though. At times it was like her legs had forgotten how to keep her up. But she was out of the hospital now, and that on its own felt like a victory

Kaidan offered Karina his arm, which she took with her free hand in equal parts comfort and support. She took a shaky breath when Kaidan rang the doorbell. The chime echoed through the house as she heard frantic steps shuffling towards the door.

They were greeted by a small, silver haired woman who barely made it to Karina’s chest. Her eyes lit up behind thick, black frames when she saw Kaidan. He had to lean over as she smiled and pulled him into a tight hug. It was clear Kaidan got his eyes and smile from his mother. She patted his back several times before she pulled away and turned towards Karina.

“It’s so good to finally meet you.” She pulled Karina in for a hug just as she did for Kaidan, without warning, as if she’d known her for years. Karina felt her muscles tensing up, not expecting such sudden contact. She could count on one Turian hand how many people hug her like this. Several moments passed until she returned the embrace with unsure arms. His mother soon after released, much to Karina’s relief. “Hope the trip wasn’t too bad.”

“We didn’t have any trouble.” Kaidan cut in, noticing that Karina looked more than a little overwhelmed. He took half a step in her direction, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Karina leaned against him, desperately hoping the attention could be shifted away from her.

It was then Karina saw movement from the hallway headed in their direction. A white haired man who looked almost exactly like Kaidan stepped out.

He walked with such purpose, though it was clear he walked on old injuries that never quite healed right. Despite this, he still carried the posture of someone who served. Karina felt her own posture stiffen reflexively, suddenly feeling like she was a new recruit awaiting inspection all over again. The man stayed silent as he approached, not breaking eye contact.

Kaidan pulled his father in for a hug, neither saying a word. Kaidan’s arms shook slightly. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever see his father again after the reaper war when he was declared missing.

Kaidan retracted before making introductions. “Dad, this is Karina.”

She received a firm handshake from the man. His posture was stiff and awkward as he extended his hand. He clearly didn’t know how to address her, but the feeling was mutual.

Introductions felt like a blur that Karina wasn’t fully present for. Her mind kept drifting off before being pulled back by key words in the conversation. She was never good with small talk, and something about her surroundings kept bringing her mind back to Mindoir, and her own parents.

Luckily, Kaidan and his mother carried the conversation with relative ease. She was updating him about their family. A cousin, as far as Karina could tell. She struggled to keep up with the names.

Karina continued to sip on the wine presented in silence, letting the flavor keep her anchored in the moment. It was a dry red wine, but she couldn’t figure out what kind and felt too awkward to interrupt and ask.

And then the one question she was dreading hit like a bullet to the chest.

“So how’s your family doing, Karina?”

It was a simple enough question, from a well meaning woman who didn’t want to exclude company from conversation, but it required a far more complex answer.

She swallowed hard as she looked over to Kaidan, who looked a shade paler than he did before as he met her gaze. He was seconds from trying to intercept the conversation, before Karina put a hand on his. She knew she’d have to talk about it eventually.

“Oh, I don’t have any family.” It was simple enough, and shut the conversation down before it got too deep. She wasn’t prepared to drop her baggage on a family she hadn’t even gotten the chance to fully know yet.

Karina thought she should feel her pulse rising in her throat by now, but the sensation didn’t come. The ache was a dull one, faded by a decade's time. She quietly pushed the feeling down, shifting the collar of her turtleneck sweater. She silently cleared her throat before changing the subject.

“This wine is lovely. Did it come from this orchard?”

Karina found herself in Kaidan’s childhood bed as the night came to a close, both drained from the combination of wine and late night conversation, but neither could find sleep quite yet. Karina looked around the room decorated in hockey sticks and trophies. It looked like it hadn’t been touched since Kaidan joined the Alliance.

Kaidan caressed her cheek with delicate precision, kissing her temple before speaking. “How’re you feeling? Still need that sanity check?”

Karina leaned against the man at her side, letting her head fall against his shoulder. “Oddly enough, I’m feeling okay.” She paused for a moment, fighting the exhaustion to get the words out. “It’s weird though.”

Kaidan leaned his head against hers. The arm wrapped around her tightening with concern. “How so?”

She sighed. “Just thinking about my own family, I guess. It doesn't hurt as much as it used to.”

He squeezed her shoulder as he kissed the crown of her head, “Time has a way of doing that, huh?”

She wrapped her arms around his waist in response, holding back a yawn. “It’s like I’m almost missing the feeling of loss, because at least there was something there. Y’know?”

Kaidan nodded thoughtfully before planting another kiss, this time more tender as it barely grazed her scalp. “It wasn’t the family you were born with, but I think you managed to find your own family in the time since. You have the old Normandy crew.”

Karina nodded as she began to recline more on the bed, feeling the exhaustion finally begin to overcome her. Kaidan matched her pace, finding their usual position on an unfamiliar bed. Karina let her legs graze his own before they tangled themselves into one another.

“Maybe one day you’ll feel that way here?” Kaidan offered with a low voice, looking at the ceiling as he held Karina close to his side.

Karina pulled herself in closer, until their bodies were flush and her head rested on his chest, nuzzling before finding her usual spot. “I think I’d like that.”

#merweek2021 #mass effect #mass effect fanfiction #shenko #fshenko #kaidan alenko #commander shepard #Karina Shepard

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shreddedparchment · 4 years

Text

Pseudo Princess Pt.36 - End

A Chance Meeting

08/08/2020

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader Word Count: 10,158

Warnings: language, angst, fluff, creepy dudes

A/N: The end. 😭 I hope you’ve enjoyed it. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on any other sites or blogs. REBLOGS are always welcome.

*pictures relay only style of clothing and not physical appearance/race

Silken sheets that are cool to the touch. A roaring fire. The heartbreaking smell of peony blossoms.

A wooden bucket—your wooden bucket—full of ice-cold water.

A chill warmed by a feverish heat wrapped around your back.

All of these thoughts-no. They’re more like memories.

All of them have come to you over the course of a year.

They grow more elusive as they come.

Before you thought you could almost see a garden with an ocean of pink peonies in varying shades of blush to wine.

Now, after months of having these strange visions, they have become condensed into single colors at random. The most frequent is a shade of gold. A circle of blue.

You think these memories might be important but you cannot grasp onto them long enough to make any sense of them.

There’s also the fact that you know they cannot possibly be memories.

You have never seen a garden of peonies.

You’ve had plenty of chill in your life but a warmth like the one you’d recalled at the beginning of the year when the winter cold had been at its worst is as unfamiliar to you as the looming manor on the hill above the village.

With a small groan, you stop and set the bucket down. Your arms are strong enough to carry it but after so harsh a winter, you’d be a fool not to take care.

You’d only just managed to make it out alive after devoting so much time to your little one.

You suppose the golden hue you keep remembering is similar to your baby’s hair. Just a shade or two off. Just as beautiful.

The estate sits looming at the peak of a hill that sits almost a mile away from the village.

The manor itself, you can see, has been expanded. It has the appearance of a small castle now with towers and battlements. The parapet walls that now surround the structure offer crenels to whatever guard the now small castle may need.

It had sat there abandoned for so long, the lord once given task to watch over it and Bright Rise as well as several other small villages in this part of the kingdom having left.t

With the primary building made of wood, the added masonry has really given the old place new life.

What magnificent furnishings must it have? Gilded and ornate probably. Chairs worth more than everything you own.

What type of person has taken residence there? Is it someone you’d know?

Someone beautiful probably. A handsome lord and his gorgeous lady. Both of them probably members of his Majesty King Anthony’s court.

Do they have children? A young little lord or lady running around causing mischief.

You find yourself smiling, made happy by the image you paint in your head.

It makes you only a little sad that you picture yourself there. Your baby in your arms. Your husband…

My husband?

Silly…You don’t have a husband.

But you yearn for something you very nearly miss. Something you know you should have. Something…precious.

“Hello there, little mouse.”

You gasp, startled out of your daydreams and turn on your heel in search of the horrible voice.

With a stuttering heart you spot Phin, standing with his grimy hands in his tattered pockets.

“What do you want?” You ask him, voice cold but wavering as you grow wary.

Already you’re searching with a quick glance for the nearest route of escape.

You hunch over, grabbing your bucket and attempt and fail to stifle your groan of effort.

Phin lunges forward, his hand thrown out towards you. It makes you flinch. You keep your eyes shut as you wait for the blow.

It never comes.

Slowly you peek, searching for Phin's extended hand and find it wrapped around the rope handle of your bucket.

“What are you doing?” You ask, confused and fearful. “Let go.”

“I can treat you right, little mouse. I can give you proper protection. I’ll even pretend that bastard brat of yours is mine.

“I’ve been patient. I may not be able to wait much longer.” His voice is like sludge, creeping down your spine raising chills of terror as it goes.

You yank on the handle, urging him to release it. You meet his gaze, matching his threat with your own angry stubbornness.

You will not give in to him. Not now. Not ever. Even with your little one…you can’t.

He keeps holding it, refusing to let go until you feel like you’d rather drop the water and come back for more later.

He drops the rope and you stumble back a step, not having realized how much you were actually pulling on the bucket.

Some water spills but you’re just thankful to be free of Phin and you rush away to be even further. A glance back when you’re close to your small home shows you Phin still standing where you left him.

He’s watching you.

You hate him.

Getting inside, you shut the rickety door tight, resting your forehead against the splintered wood as you wait for your heart to stop pounding.

From behind you a sudden “goo" chases the tension and fear from your body. Your shoulders relax.

With a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, you turn in search of the cooing source.

Nestled into a bed of hay, covered with a thick blanket of navy fabric, is your little one.

A hair of golden hair and eyes as blue as the deepest ocean have enraptured you. Stolen your heart and changed your world.

“Are you finally awake?” You gush, moving to place your bucket by the crumbling and unlit fireplace before you make your way to him.

His chubby little legs kick away his tunic. A plain brown piece of linen you’d stitched together to keep him clothed.

At six months, he’s nearly outgrown it.

When you offer your arms, he throws his weight to his left until he can roll onto his stomach and then reaches for pivots towards you.

Sliding your hands underneath his arms, he grabs you and you lift him up then place several kisses to his chubby baby cheeks.

He's gorgeous, your baby boy. His smile is sun bright and the gleam in his eyes is sharp and observant.

The expressions he wears on his little face are familiar. They pull and tug at something too but you can’t focus on it long enough to care.

Your boy is your world and that’s all you need to know.

“Is my sweet boy hungry?” You wonder while moving for the bucket of water you’d lugged into the hut.

You dip your hand in and for a moment relish in the feel of the water on your hand. A sudden desire to be submerged in steaming hot water that smells like a spring garden overcomes you, but it’s gone by the time you gently swipe across your little one's face.

He protests you cleaning his face. Whining a little and twisting in your arms until you’re done and wait with both arms supporting him for his sputtering to stop.

He looks at you and after taking another moment to overcome his displeasure, he smiles again.

You chuckle and move to grab the swaddling blanket you’ve set aside for his use alone and sit with it in your lap as you lean back a little to expose your breast to feed him.

A song you feel you almost dreamt slips from your lips in a soothing hum. With your eyes shut you can almost see a beautiful gown sweep around your feet.

Strong arms hold you close as they lead you around a crowded room.

The image is like a dream too, part of the song you’re humming. You’ve never been in so vast a hall, tables laden with food and the satin gown you wear is softer than any rag you’ve ever worn.

No. You’ve never been bathed in such luxury.

This hovel is your home with its mostly dirt floor, loose cobblestones shoved around in spots you’d set aside to keep dry.

No windows. A door that hangs off its hinges. A straw bed. A patched roof.

As your son feeds and you allow your mind to put away the dream of nice things, you assess the hut you’ve made your home.

You’re almost certain that you’d had it in better condition before. The door had hung straight, the rickety fireplace had been sturdy and homely.

The floor had been more even. Your straw bed had been less lumpy.

You’d had another small shelf with your plates and cups. Your sewing kit safely stored in the cupboard below.

Your home had not been grand but it had been comfortable. It had been yours and you’d cared for it delicately and made it a sanctuary.

When had it changed so much?

As you attempt to remember when this place fell apart your mind is forced to confront several other unanswered questions that you seem to think on often but always forget.

It’s almost as if the thoughts are pushed from your mind until they are brought to the surface once more.

The one question that started it all…the one that had made you pause. You still remember the miller’s wife, staring at you at the small grocer's shop while you waited to pay for your bushel of potatoes.

“Oi, orphan. How much longer ‘til you have the babe?” She'd asked, her eyes narrowed as she considered your swollen belly.

You'd stroked it, smiling fondly at the little life growing within you.

“A fortnight.” You’d answered, happy and content despite your poor living.

“Ah, and who's the father?” She'd asked, then waited as your smile slowly fell.

You’d stood there for a few minutes, waiting your turn but lost in thought at the question that had never once occurred to you in the seven months since your belly began to grow.

“I…I don’t know.” You’d admitted to her and her eyes filled with a solemn worry.

“Looks like they finally cornered you. Didn’t get a look at ‘is face?” She'd wondered and it was then that you realized what she thought.

Your precious baby, your little growing bean, was the product of one of the village men forcing himself on you.

But it wasn’t true!

As you sit with your son in your arms, rocking him back and forth as he eats, you know without a doubt in your mind that your son was made with love.

You can feel it within your very soul. There was passion and love and devotion in his making.

A golden aura, warm and encompassing that gave you your own little ray of sunshine. But even though you know this you cannot see his father.

There is no father. Only your Joseph.

He stirs in your arms. You find him smiling, finished with his meal. And just like that, your thoughts are lost to his special allure.

“All done?” You ask him and he yawns.

You begin to wrap him up in the blanket you’d made for him and bring a basket from the corner of your hut.

It’s a decent size with straps sewn into the wicker so that you may put it on your back.

You place it before you, balanced between your legs and gently lay Joseph within. You make certain he's wrapped up tight and kiss his cheek before you fit a domed lid on top.

The lid covers his head and keeps him safe from the summer heat.

“We'll check the traps and then come right back.” You promise him and lift the basket onto your shoulders, listening as he coos long baby words that say nothing.

It’s like he’s talking to you, the quiver of his voice moving up and down with inflection as if he knows what he’s doing.

He takes a breath and then starts again, “Oooh-awhhhh-wahhhhhh-ooooohhhhhhh…”

You can’t help but smile, your skin greeted by scorching sun as you start your trek into the trees behind your home.

“Let's check the traps by the pond first, then we'll check the bog by the road.” Joseph coos along with you.

~~~~~~~~~~

The view is spectacular.

It’s downright scenic from up here so high on the hill. Even if the beautiful valley is slightly tarnished by the village below.

It’s part of the reason he decided to keep the purchase.

Several months ago, Steve had found the deed to the manor on Sunbright Hill.

He'd sat for nearly an hour while he'd considered the paperwork, trying to remember why he’d made the purchase of such a dilapidated plot.

The lord that had once resided here had apparently vacated when he'd married a lady of considerable wealth but she preferred the Capital city to Bright Rise below so, they’d left and never come back.

Slowly the manor began to rot and the village, without its caretaker, had also fallen into poverty and corruption.

The farms were all but dead. Only two were still in use and had the season failed once in the past few years, the village would have surely fallen.

“Steve?” Bucky sighs, moving into the renovated den.

Steve stands by the large arched windows behind his massive oak desk.

The chair is angled towards the glass, distracted as he's been lately, he can’t seem to get any work done.

“Steve?” Bucky says louder.

Steve blinks, pulled from his brooding to notice his friend. He turns and waits, saying nothing.

“She's here.” Bucky smiles.

Steve’s heart gives an eager stutter as his own bearded face breaks into a wide smile.

“Where?” He asks, moving towards his oldest friend.

“She’s with Nat in the dining room. She was hungry.”

Steve is already out the door, stomping with wide steps down the hallway, then another and another, down a staircase then to the east side of the manor towards the dining room.

It’s a long room, a table long enough to sit at least forty people takes up most of the center space.

Each wall has been adorned with tapestries and paintings, an iron chandelier with sixty candles hangs at the center of the room, currently unlit.

Instead, windows on both sides of the room sit open, a cool breeze blowing in to cool the manor from the summer heat.

As Steve thrusts the doors open, he spots a grouping of his closest friends. Sam, Wanda, Pietro, Peter who is actually squatting beside the chair they are all surrounding, and Natasha in the one beside it.

In the chair is a cherub. An angel. A literal princess dressed in pale pink. Her golden hair, a shade darker than Steve’s is pinned back on one side with clasp of small and ornate white peony blossoms.

“Maggie!” Steve calls, the honey in his deep voice soft and flowing as his heart swells in his chest.

The toddler turns her head, searching aimlessly as his voice echoes around the room. Her right hand full of jelly and toast as she’d sat munching, she now opens and holds her fingers wide as she isn’t coordinated enough to recognize when the food has fallen from her tiny grasp.

Everyone is watching her, despite the presence of their King and Steve cannot blame them. Her eyes find him and she releases a high squeal of excitement before she turns in her seat to take hold of the arm.

“Wait, Maggie, your hands are a mess.” Nat says, her voice full of amusement.

But little Maggie has no patience for cleanliness with her papa so close.

“Papa!” She screams, turning to look at him as she stands on the chair.

Her lips wrap around the name with a slur, her talking improving but still just beginning.

Nat continues to wipe her hands as Steve laughs and moves for her, arms extended.

Maggie bounces on her feet excitedly. Her pink dress swishing with every move.

As he reaches her, she allows herself to fall into his arms and he catches her, spinning her once as he presses a long kiss to her cheek.

Maggie laughs, her hands wrapped around Steve’s head so tightly that Steve wonders if her strength is increasing or it’s just his imagination.

“She has been asking about you all week.” Nat says, rising and then turning to Bucky as he approaches her to give her a kiss.

“We'll give you some space.” Wanda offers then moves around the chair towards the exit.

Steve stops his turning to watch her go, Pietro following.

“Will you be going back to Broklin?” He wonders, wondering if the twins only came to escort Maggie.

“No. We'll visit with Tony.” Pietro nods, then both of them stop at the door and bow before heading off at what must be Pietro’s run.

“How was the journey?” Steve worries, turning his eyes on Nat.

“It was fine. She was a little fussy last night but as soon as I explained that we were coming to see her papa, she converted her energy to enthusiastic impatience.” Nat chuckles. “She really has been asking for you. ‘Papa where?’, ‘Where Papa?’, ‘Papa, Papa, Papa…’. It’s almost as if it’s the only word she knows.”

“She’s never been away from him for so long.” Bucky observes, both he and Nat watching as Maggie places her little hands on Steve’s cheeks, her fingers exploring the edges of his beard while Steve admires her little face.

“I’m sorry, my treasure. I just wanted to make sure the manor would be ready when you arrived.” He tells her.

She seems to understand as she tilts her head to one side and throws her hand up, bent at the elbow as she babbles a string of words only she understands.

“Do you forgive me?” Steve begs.

Maggie giggles sleepily then leans forward to lay her head on his shoulder.

Steve strokes her tiny back, caressing her hair a bit as her eyes begin to close.

“How long will you stay, Nat?” Steve asks, his voice dropping a bit in volume to respect his sleeping toddler.

“Long enough for you and Sam to go and come back. Bucky and Peter will help me with Maggie.” She nods, looking for her faithful friend and Knight.

She spots him in another seat, head in hand, elbow on the table as he dozes lightly.

“He's been doting on her.” Nat explains. “Too much, perhaps?”

Sam huffs a laugh as he crosses his arms across his hard chest, tugging on the crimson tunic he’d quickly dressed himself in this morning.

“He’ll be angry we went to visit Morgana without him.” Sam observes and Steve can’t find it in him to deny it.

The romance that had bloomed between them had seemed to come out of nowhere for him.

In the back of his mind when he’s been laying in bed with Maggie beside him, he can almost remember a conversation about their eventual marriage. When he brought it up to Nat—he was fairly certain the topic had been discussed with a woman—she admitted to the thought never even crossing her mind.

She’d praised the match and teased Peter afterwards, but it has left Steve with another unanswered question.

So many…so many strings that he’s tried to pull on only to find the way blocked.

Maggie coos in his arm, another bout of baby babble in her sleep that pulls him from his pondering.

“We’ll head out in a few hours.” He tells Sam who straightens up and nods. “I would like to go now, but I want to spend a bit of time with Maggie before I leave her again.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours with Maggie turned into thirty minutes.

The longer Steve sat with her in his arms, the more eager he was for her to wake.

He’s missed her but knows that she’s tired so in an effort to get the visit over with and return to his smiling princess, he tucks her into her crib in his bedroom then hands her care over to Nat who sits by the window while Bucky sees them out.

“How long will you be, your Majesty?” Bucky wonders, keeping pace with Steve’s quick and long stride.

“Not long. I’ve only to invite him to the ball in two weeks and we’ll return. I’m certain we’ll be back before dinner.” Steve assures him. “I hear you and Natasha are considering adopting a child?”

Bucky smiles. “There is another option, one that Natasha is most eager to try but I think I’ve convinced her to reconsider.”

Steve regards his friend skeptically.

“Truly, I think I have. She met with a witch a few weeks ago and apparently there is a way for Natasha to regain her ability to have a child.” Bucky explains, his expression a little darker.

Steve’s confusion is evident in the narrow of his brow. Despite his curiosity, he keeps his eyes fixed ahead as they move along the south hall to the stables.

The fall of their shoes echoes along the empty corridor, still only half decorated as it was only finished a few days ago. Steve can still smell the fresh clay between the stones underneath their feet.

He’ll have carpets put in to quell the sound.

“Isn’t that what you both want?” He wonders.

Bucky shakes his head. “I want her to be happy. She thinks I want a child of my own. Naturally my own. But I don’t care if the child is mine by blood. I just want to love her.”

“Magic like that of which she speaks comes with a hefty price.”

“That’s why I refuse to accept it.” Bucky sighs, the worries of his world evident on his shoulders.

“The price is too high?” Steve wonders, finally looking to his friend.

“We would be granted the ability to have our own child, but the mother would have to relinquish years of her own life. Five is what the witch told her. So, if it were Nat’s fate to die at the age of sixty, five years would be taken from that and she would die that much sooner.” Bucky laments, shaking his head in denial. “I cannot condone it.”

Steve sees his friend thinking things through, biting his lip as he wonders if he should speak what has consumed his mind aloud.

He gives in, “I know that it’s her choice. If she should want to do it, I only have some say in it. If having a child truly born of us both is what would make her happy then I would have no choice but to comply, but I would rather adopt a child who we will both love as our own anyway and have my wife for five years longer.”

Steve’s heart gives a painful ache.

Something in Bucky’s words makes him sad and breaks his heart.

My wife…Steve repeats in his head, the memory of feeling proud at that very thought overtaking his senses.

“Is it Margaret again?” Bucky wonders, stopping as they reach the end of the hall. “You’ve got that look on your face again.”

Steve reaches up to stroke the spot on his chest where he can feel his heart beating. Every thump it gives sends more agony into the pit of his stomach making his head hurt.

Is it Margaret? Steve doesn’t think so.

The first time someone had asked him if it was Margaret he was mourning he admitted it was because it was easier than to tell his friends that no, it wasn’t his dead wife he was thinking of. In fact, he wasn’t sure who it was he was thinking of.

He shuts his eyes now, overcome with the sweet scent of oils. Lilac and juniper. Peonies. Fields of them. A garden full, just like back home.

A smile flitters past his sense. The image nearly chokes him. A laugh. A pout. A tear stained face made blurry as he can’t recall its beauty.

Maggie in womanly arms, pressed gently to her breast.

These elusive images that skim his mind are not Margaret. Everyone seems to ignore that Maggie is too young to be Margaret’s or perhaps they simply don’t care?

It’s almost a silent agreement that Maggie’s mother is not Margaret but who exactly she is, no one cares. No one will think on the possibility long enough for it to matter.

Even Steve loses focus after a few second of torment.

Even now, as his heart breaks painfully, Bucky puts his hand on his shoulder and gives him a shake.

Just like that, the images that pained him only moments ago are gone.

Steve smiles, breathing in deep before exhaling in a huff.

“I’ll be quick. I want to be back before it’s too dark.” With a nod from Bucky, Steve hastens his way into the stable.

Sam already has his horse saddled and waiting.

He hops on, adjusting his posture as he takes the reigns then turns to give Bucky one final wave.

“Keep my daughter happy until I return.” He orders.

Bucky waves them off and watches until they clear the large gate.

~~~~~~~~~~

Your hands are shaking with rage. Yet another night with nothing caught.

All of your snares are in fact, broken. A deliberate cut made to the wire you’d spent so much money on.

You think you know exactly who it was that came out to ruin your work. There’s only one person who would benefit from sabotaging your efforts to feed yourself and your boy.

The image of Phin standing across the field from your home, staring at you is burned into your mind.

If it weren’t for Joseph, you would happily starve before you accept Phin’s hand in marriage.

As it is, it isn’t only you. In order to feed your son, you must eat. With no one coming to you for mending—which you are also sure is thanks to Phin’s interference as it has only been happening the past few weeks—you have no money to buy anything. No grain. No bread. No meat.

If you do not eat, your son will starve.

You clutch the broken snare in your hand, squeezing so tight you can feel the wire dig into the palms of your hand.

Were they not so rough, you may have cut yourself.

You take a quick peek at the basket carefully nestled between the rough trunk of tree and large berry bush. Your little one still dozing peacefully and safely covered by the basket’s lid.

While he sleeps, you know you must be quick with the snares by the bog. It isn’t too far so you decide to let him sleep in the shade and make your way through the trees to the road’s edge.

It’s a very short walk. Should he cry you’ll hear him perfectly and be able to run back to him in less than ten seconds.

The sun beats down on the road here and the bog is nearly dried over from the heat of the summer sun.

Normally the mud within is a thick sticky paste that one can easily be caked in. You even remember fetching a purse for the old woman who used to care for you when you were little.

As you stop by its edge, you wonder where the old woman has gone. You attempt to recall the last time you’d seen her but the last memory you have is fetching her purse from the mud pit.

Forcing her from your mind, you look to the two snares you’d set up between two trees and right at the edge of the bog.

The one at the edge has also been cut. You kick it angrily before you move to the other and find that it has also been tampered with.

“Fuck!” You mutter, hating Phin with every fiber of your being.

You try to picture him beside you, laying claim over you as his wife. You think on the life you will live, trapped in your home, and expected to fulfill his every whim, wish, and desire. He will rule you with a heavy hand, command you to obey, and take what he wants from you with violence if need be.

Terror roots you to that spot between the trees, hunched over as your hands shake with anger at the lack of options for you and Joseph.

There is the other choice, the one you’ve refused to make because where might you go? Here in Bright Rise you at least have a roof over your head.

Soon fall will come, then winter after that. If you choose to leave, you might be condemning yourself and your son to a death by freeze and you can’t do that. You can’t make such a reckless choice with him so little still.

You gather as much of the wire as you can, carefully wrapping it around an empty spool you’d kept just in case, hoping to keep your anger from shifting into sorrow.

As you work, you can hear the sound of hooves behind you. Two horses at most. Perhaps three? The sound of shifting gravel too close.

There’s the clearing of a throat before a steady voice speaks. “Excuse me, might I trouble you, miss for some directions? My guard and I seem to have become lost in these backroads by the village.”

You sigh, still consumed with rage with Phin, but rise and turn to face the man who addresses you.

He’s godly, this man with golden hair and a beard to match. His eyes are piercing. Storm blue as they stare you down and you fidget with the spool in your hand as your heart does a sudden and unexpected dip into your belly where it explodes into a flurry of butterflies.

Voice choked in your throat, you look away from the beautiful man and tried to clear your head.

“His Majesty, King Steven has asked you a question, miss.” His guard says, shocking your system into an automatic curtsy as you intentionally avoid their gaze now.

“I’m sorry!” You gasp, worried you might have given offense.

“Sam, it’s alright.” King Steven says, his voice soft and coaxing.

You take a quick peek at his guard, another handsome man with deep umber skin and a soft bronze glow. His gaze is a little sterner but kind all the same.

“We did not mean to startle you.” King Steven says, the gentility in his voice luring you into taking another look at him.

When your eyes meet, you find that you can’t look away.

“I-I was checking my traps.” You relay, feeling stupid suddenly for giving him information that he has not asked for.

“I can see that.” King Steven nods, a small smile tugging up half of his full pink lips.

He’s exquisite. His dress is fine, luxurious satin and silk. His tunic is a royal blue, a silver stitching along every seam in what looks to be a small wavy pattern.

It looks familiar and your hand absentmindedly moves with the pattern of the stitch as if it remembers how to make it though you’ve never sewn on anything so fine in your life.

King Steven’s eyes notice the movement and he watches your hand before you remember yourself and speak again.

“Forgive me, your Majesty, you asked me a question.” You gasp, dropping the spool at your feet and moving around the mud pit to stand at the edge of the road, much closer to where he and his guard tarry.

King Steven smiles again, sending your heart into a pitter patter.

“If you head down this road, you will reach a fork with three smaller roads. You’ll want to take the Eastern most road for nearly four miles before you reach a second fork of two roads. Take the left and follow that road and do not stray. You will reach the Capital before noon.” You say, pointing as you give instruction.

As you finish you drop your arm and bring your hand to tug at the worn leather of your belt.

King Steven stares at you, smiling for so long that you look down at your feet and are suddenly aghast by the state of your shoes and skirts.

You’re so dirty that you’re ashamed to be seen by them. With a bite to your lip, you turn and hurry back around the mud pit to pick up your spool.

“Thank you.” King Steve says, his wide shoulders relaxed. “Might I pay you for your assistance? What is the customary amount? Five silver pieces?”

You throw out your hand to stop him, embarrassed to take payment for so small a favor. “No!”

Gasping you watch as the spool flies out of your hand. It hits the front of his horse then topples onto the road where it rolls along further down the rocky path.

King Steven dismounts as you rush forward in chase of the wire.

Both of you reach it at the same time but King Steven is first to bend over and take it.

“Oh, please…” You gasp, worried about the dirt and muck that must be caked on the tool. “You’ll dirty your hands.”

As King Steven stands upright, he dusts it off then offers it to you. “A little dirt never killed anyone.”

Your senses are assaulted by him and for a moment all you can do is stare at his hand as he waits for you to take your wire.

He smells like evergreen woods and oranges. No…limes…You’re not sure! It’s a citrus of some sort and it overwhelms your mind. His voice is deep and smooth. It works its way into your bones and nearly turns them into jelly.

“Will you not take it?” He asks, shaking the spool a little.

You look up to meet his gaze but find that his smile has disappeared. In its place is a look of severe concentration.

Is he angry with you? Have you insulted him by waiting so long to take your property?

The look in his eyes is intense. He looks almost as if he’s trying to recall an elusive memory.

You know the feeling…

Quickly you take the spool, ignoring the moment your hand brushes his. He must notice how rough your hands are. He must mix with ladies whose hands had never once known the strife of physical labor.

“Thank you, your Majesty.” You curtsy quickly, avoiding his gaze and move around him.

A hot, vice-like grip takes hold around your wrist.

You stop, turning to look at his hand then up to meet his gaze.

Gone is the look of confusion, replaced by a furrowed brow and what can only be hopeful searching within his storm blue eyes.

“Steve?” His guard warns, confused by the moment almost as much as you are.

“What are-” You whisper, voice so weak you’re surprised you can manage to speak at all.

You clear your throat and search for the courage to say your piece.

You don’t like this. The way his presence almost consumes you. His touch is burning, and you’re not sure why you feel as if you’ve also been waiting a lifetime for it.

“Unhand me.” You plead, twisting your wrist in his hand but refusing to look away from his slowly shifting expression.

He smiles and your heart stutters, fear of what it might mean making you yank a little harder, but King Steven uses the momentum of your pull to step towards you. He wraps his free arm around your waist, dipping his head down as he presses fevered lips against your own.

You’re frozen in his arms, wide eyes staring at his own now shut. His lips are fierce, his kiss is hard. It hurts a little and it takes you a moment to feel the warmth of their touch.

He drops your wrist and wraps his other arm around you, hand pressed to the back of your head as he tilts his own to one side and coaxes your lips open with a gentle swipe of his tongue.

The taste of him stuns you, your body freezing as your mind is assaulted with images all blurred together into one precious life that you’d most assuredly lost and now found again.

Your eyes grow blurry, tears flooding from the corners as your lips finally respond to Steve’s kiss.

With a gasp you pull away, sobbing once as you gobble up the sight of him.

Steve’s hands caress the sides of your face, stroking your hair and cheeks as he also devours your visage.

“I found you.” He whispers, throat tick with emotion.

You sob once more, arms pulling him towards you as you give in to the shocking relief you feel to be in his arms once more.

Your heart breaks as you clutch him close. Over a year of lost time with not only him but…

“Maggie!” You exclaim, voice barely above a whisper.

“She’s perfect,” Steve assures you, pulling back to meet your gaze once more. “She’s growing bigger every day. She has your sweetness, your love of jams and jellies.”

Steve laughs, so happy that his own tears fall too. “She calls me Papa, and she calls Sam birb.”

You laugh, shaking your head already knowing that Bucky’s to blame for that.

“I don’t think it’s that funny.” Sam suddenly says, pulling both your gazes towards him.

“Sam…” You smile.

“I’ve kept watch over her, just as I promised.” The recognition in his eyes is heavenly.

“How did this happen?” Steve asks, continuing the caress of your cheeks. “How did we lose each other.”

You sigh, licking your lips as you prepare to explain when your heart suddenly drops, and you remember another pair of storm blue waiting in a basket. “Steve…”

Without warning you turn and race into the trees, running as fast as you can to make sure that he wasn’t a dream.

You find the basket where you left it and pull it away from its hiding spot before you remove the lid, happy to find your little boy still fast asleep.

“Y/N!” Steve calls, racing up behind you where he skids to a stop. “What is it, my flower? What’s the matter?”

He sighs heavily when he finds you, moving to place his hands on your shoulders, needing to feel you it seems.

“Don’t run away from me like that…” He pleads, and your heart aches for him but this is much more important.

“Steve,” You begin, and turn to reveal the six-month-old baby in your arms. “You have a son.”

The step back he takes you attribute to shock. The heartbreak and confusion on his face you have only yourself to blame for.

“How-?” He asks, shaking his head as he stares at the tiny prince in your arms.

“Steve…” You begin, suddenly fearful of what he might say when you confess the deal you’d made with grandmother.

“No.” Steve cuts you off, reaching out to trace the shape of your arms through the dingy dress you wear. “Not here. Let’s go home.”

“To Broklin?” You wonder, relieved that he’s eager to resume your lives together.

“No, I-do you remember when I asked you if I should purchase your little hut?” Despite speaking to you, his eyes are still trained on your son.

Slowly, as he speaks, his hand skates across your arms until he can stroke Joseph’s little cheek with one tentative finger.

“Yes.” You frown, disapproving of the purchase as it isn’t your land to begin with.

“Well, when you forbade me from buying it, I bought the manor on the hill instead.” He confesses, finally meeting your gaze.

“Oh.” You’re stunned.

“I thought that it would be nice to have somewhere in Malibia to call our own. Visiting your family is something that I wanted you to feel free to do. I wanted to give you a space you could come to, somewhere near your home.” He explains sweetly sending your heart into a tizzy.

“Steve…” You reach up, pressing your palm to his warm bearded cheek while keeping a firm hold of your little one with the other.

“Come on.” Steve urges you, leaning down quickly to kiss you then pulls away slowly almost as if he doesn’t want to. “Our princess is waiting.”

~~~~~~~~~~

She’s as beautiful as the night you’d held her close, memorizing the little wheeze in her breath as she’d drifted to sleep.

She’s bigger. She’s walking, unsteadily but moving. She’s talking, indeed saying ‘Papa’ but she says other things that you’ve already picked up on.

Her little chubby limbs have stretched a bit and you can’t believe you’ve lost so much time with her.

Tears are still streaming down your cheeks while you sit here, staring at her sleeping face.

Steve’s hands support her little back as he holds her to his chest, his back resting against the ornate wooden headboard of your bed.

“She’ll know you soon enough.” Steve assures you as you nod and quickly wipe the tears from your eyes. “She was so little.”

“I know.” You reach out, caressing her little head before you look down at the even smaller boy between you both. He’s chewing on his fist, little legs up in the air as he quietly plays by himself.

He’s so good at just being alone, you feel terrible about it because you know that it’s your fault. You’ve needed him to be independent as you worked hard to earn money for both of you.

When he meets your eyes, he coos those long wordless streams of vowel. He’s talking to you, probably relishing in the plush mattress all four of you lay on.

“Shh, my sweet boy. Your sister is sleeping.” You stroke his little chest and he takes hold of your hand as he kicks his legs in excitement.

“Y/N…” Steve begins, and you know it’s finally time.

“I’m ready now.” You sniffle, meeting his look of somber confusion. “I’ll tell you what happened.”

It takes you less than five minutes to explain. Grandmother’s vision. Her actions to see it in greater detail. The truth of his imminent death. You tell him that you begged for his life and that night when Grandmother had interrupted your sleep, she’d come to tell you that she’d found a solution.

“She said the magic would ask for payment. Something that only I could give.” You hope that he doesn’t hate you, his expression unreadable as he watches you with his brooding brow all scrunched and focused. “I thought that it would be my ability to see or walk. My hearing perhaps? Or being able to speak…I never thought that it would take you and Maggie from me.

“My life perhaps? But not my memories of you. Not knowing you.” You sigh, waiting for his rage to show.

What you get instead, is a calm conversation and a gentle pout.

“But it wasn’t only your memories. It was everyone’s. The magic wiped your existence as my wife and Queen completely.” He observes.

“Yes.” You agree. “Even the villagers in Bright Rise acted as if I’d never gone anywhere. How can magic be so powerful as to erase me completely from so many minds?”

Steve shakes his head, his hand still absentmindedly stroking Maggie’s back.

“It was such a risk for you to take.” Steve frowns, his gaze piercing, and the guilt you’d felt building since you’d stepped foot in the manor crests. “How could you make such a choice without consulting with me? I’m your husband.”

“I know.” Your lip trembles. “I’m sorry. It all happened so quickly, and I had so little time to consider the consequences of my choice. All I knew was that your future was certain. You would die protecting the world and I could not give you up to it. If I had the power to save you, of course I would use it. So long as I knew that Maggie would have you, I could stand any future I had to live.”

“Even this one? Both of us separated forever?” Steve counters, holding a mirror to the past year of your life.

You shake your head, new tears springing forth as you look down at your boy who has fallen asleep once again.

“I thought I would have to marry Phin.” You admit, voice quiet so as not to disturb your little ones.

“Why?”

“I’m fairly certain he was orchestrating it. No one in the village were taking work from me to mend their clothing and today, you found me checking my snares for small game, but someone has been breaking them. Cutting the wire or simply tearing it down.

“He wanted me to be hungry enough to marry him and the bastard knew that I would do it, for Joseph if not for myself.” Your anger taints your vision red, Phin’s detestable face a memory you wish you could forget.

Mentioning your son brings Steve’s eyes back down to him. He takes one hand and reaches down, placing his finger into Joseph’s tiny open hand. He grasps his papa’s finger, a tiny fist full of surprisingly sturdy strength.

“Now that we’ve remembered, I’m panicked by the idea that you might have found a new Queen in my absence.” You confess, chewing nervously on your lip.

“Bucky and Sam suggested it. They brought Sharon around me often to try and convince to take her on, but something prevented me from doing so.” His words send your heart into your feet, your head is suddenly splitting.

Glad as you are that he doesn’t seem to have found a new wife, the possibility of it make you feel almost sick to your stomach with anxiety.

“I think perhaps I knew in some way, deep down, that I was already married. The very thought of sharing my bed with someone else drove my skin to crawl. I felt guilty, as if I were committing some grave sin.” He admits, unrelenting in his stare.

“I would not have blamed you…” You whisper, almost fearful to speak the words. “…if you had taken a new wife. If you’d had another child with someone else. I would have had no one to blame but myself.”

“No one could ever take your place.” He assures you. “Even though I didn’t remember you, your presence was greatly missed. I may not have known what it was I was yearning for, but I was wishing for you every moment of every day.”

You shut your eyes, allowing the pleasure his words give you to soak deep down into your bones.

Even though he doesn’t ask, you’d also felt the exact same way. Something had always told you that somewhere was a home waiting for you to take your place. Never would you have guessed that it was a castle in the next Kingdom over.

“Were you frightened?” Steve wonders, drawing your gaze once more.

You find him watching Joseph once again, his thumb stroking the little one’s hand.

“Expecting him all on your own?” He clarifies.

“I was afraid of how I’d take care of him.” You smile, reaching to stroke the length of his little nose. “I knew I would be alright birthing him. It was long and taxing. But he was with me so suddenly. It was over before I even knew what was happening. The miller’s wife came to check on me and she helped me for a few days after, but I had no other choice than to push on. I was up and caring for him and myself before the week was out. That’s when my fear came.

“I knew that I had to feed myself in order to keep him fed and healthy and I wasn’t sure exactly how to do it with the village set so resolutely against me. An unwed mother with a bastard child?”

“I’ll have it burned to the ground.” Steve declares suddenly.

You smile wide, your heart melting as you watch the intensity in his gaze as new love blooms for his son.

“I wish you had spoken with me about Agatha’s vision before you made any decisions.” Steve laments, an anger growing in contrast with the new love.

It effectively wipes aware the happiness his love gives you as you regret having kept him in the dark.

“If I’d told you,” You begin, voice breaking and weak as emotion gets the better of you. The sound of it brings his gaze back to you and he seems to soften with it. “You would have kept me from doing what needed to be done. There was no question of saving you, Steve. I had only just found you. Our baby girl only just born. I could not lose you.”

Shutting your eyes, you let your head fall, burying your face into your pillow.

“Imsuhsawree.” You sob, muffled against the fluff of the bed.

The silence feels endless until you’ve just about made up your mind to look at him again when a sudden snort of laughter cuts the tension with ease.

You whip your head to face him, searching for the source of the laugh only to find Steve with his hand over his mouth as his body shakes with silent laughter.

“You’re laughing?” You gasp in disbelief; certain you must be seeing things.

Your husband cannot possibly be amused in this moment while your heart and soul are drowning in guilt and grief.

“I’m sorry.” Steve chortles, a whisper of giggles as he tries his best not to wake Maggie. “Forgive me, I…”

You frown at him, displeased with his humor but he reaches for you with his hand and hooks it behind your head in a soft caress.

“It’s not funny.” You insist.

“No.” Steve shakes his head. “It isn’t. I’m sorry, my flower. I’m just…so happy you’ve returned. I’ve missed you so much.”

And just like that, he’s forgiven.

The four of you lay there in bed for hours. Though your stomach is empty, you refuse to bring your hunger to Steve’s attention. Even though you know very well just how much he will be upset with you for it, you can’t bring yourself to tear your little family apart so very soon.

The sun is only just setting when Joseph decides it’s time to eat. He whimpers, a soft murmuring of whiney breaths until the air takes shape and his cries begin to grow louder.

Beside him Maggie also stirs, staring around with wide eyes as the crying rises in volume and she’s brought out of her blissful slumber.

Steve wakes last, while you are already scooping your little boy into your arms and propping yourself up against the headboard to feed him, he rubs his face and glances at the window.

“It’s already so late.” He realizes, turning back to you and Joseph while Maggie twists her body until she can lay on her stomach and then throw herself back to sit on her bottom.

Her eyes are glued to Joseph as he latches to your breast and begins to suckle. Your breasts are sore, and the pain is worse than you remember it being with Maggie, but you have no time to focus on the pain.

You make sure he can eat easily, watching him for any signs of distress.

“Did you get her a wet nurse?” You wonder, letting your eyes drift to Maggie who still sits watching you feed her brother.

“I did.” Steve nods, lifting the girl back up onto his lap. “She was so little.”

You look away, a quiver in your bottom lip as you try to push past the heartbreak that you hadn’t been there for your daughter like you’d wanted to be. “Yeah.”

Steve is familiar with you enough that he knows you don’t want to dwell on it and changes the topic quickly.

“Shall we have dinner in here? I don’t want to share either of you yet.” He confesses, stroking the back of Maggie’s little head.

“Yes.” You nod, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically at the mention of food because Steve frowns.

“Damn it, Y/N.” He gripes and gently places Maggie back on the bed before he marches towards the doors. “If you were hungry, you should have said something. After your meal, I’ll have Natasha draw you a bath.”

The prospect of a full belly and a luxuriously hot bath which you hadn’t realized you’d grown so fond of is so dreamy that your heart gives a clench and once more you feel so very happy you just might cry again.

~~~~~~~~~~

“How’s your bath, my petal?” Steve checks, moving to the edge of the bed once more as the children sleep on.

After their dinner they’d quickly begun to play. They’d explored each other’s boundaries and Maggie had made Joseph cry only once for a few minutes before they were sharing Maggie’s soft cloth dolls.

They each sleep with one in their hands, huddled close together at the center of the bed.

“Is the water too hot?” Steve pulls over a small yellow footstool, sitting upon the soft cushion.

He doesn’t wait for your answer and dips his left hand into the water, testing the temperature as you lay yourself back against the large copper tub.

“Your hand is going to smell like peonies and rose oils.” You tease him, bringing your hand up above the fragrant water.

You take a peony petal and carefully tuck it behind his ear, gentle drops of water skirting down into his beard as the pink stands in pleasant contrast to the gold of his hair.

Biting your lip, you comb it back, tracing the shape of his jaw with damp fingers.

“Even though I didn’t know you, my heart and soul yearned for you.” You whisper, sliding your hand down to rest upon his shoulders.

“And I you.” He smiles, eyes shut as you lean in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I wonder,” You begin, pulling back to examine and rememorize every inch of his face. “Now that we are together again, whether this will negate in some way the effect of the spell?”

This thought raises a new worry in you. A fear that by meeting again you have somehow doomed Steve to die.

“Even if it has, I will not part with you again. I won’t die either.” Steve promises, but how can you take him at his word.

Magic is wicked and it will take its price one way or another.

“I have to speak to grandmother.” You counter, your gentle caress of his shoulders turned into a desperate cling.

“She’s gone.” Steve says, sending your heart into a pit within your belly. “No one has seen her since all of this started. However, there is something that I found in my office back home.”

Steve rises, moving towards his cloak left to rest on the back of a chair at the opposite end of the room.

When he returns, he holds in his hand a sealed piece of parchment, folded twice to keep its contents secure. The wax seal is a deep purple, her insignia that of a cat, back arched and head tilted up as if to yowl towards the moon.

You reach for your towel nearby and dry your hands then take the letter as Steve holds it out.

“I’ve been carrying it with me everywhere I go, hoping it would yield some explanation as to why I have been feeling so…empty.” He tells you, picking up his stool and moving to place it a bit more near the head of the tub where you sit. “Scoot forward.”

You do as he asks, staring at the letter and consider what its contents might be.

Steve’s hands disappear beneath the surface of your bathwater and emerge with a small porous sponge. It’s rough at first but with water and under Steve’s heavy hand, it becomes malleable and he begins to stroke your back, cleaning the peasant grime from your body.

“Why haven’t you opened it?” You wonder, turning it over almost expecting it to billow with glittering smoke.

“I attempted to many times. I couldn’t. The seal would not break. See there at the bottom of the fold?” He instructs.

You turn it over to look at the side with the seal and spot the small loopy writing at the bottom. The penmanship is so exquisite, you’re almost certain now that grandmother had indeed once been of noble blood.

For the Queen of Broklin.

“For me?” You gasp.

“I think it will only open for you, petal.” Steve explains as he leans closer to get the tops of your arms and then following the flow of muscle over your shoulders and down along your sides slowly.

Eager now, knowing this letter is meant for you, you tear it open and the seal breaks without fuss.

“Can you read it?” Steve wonders, no note of teasing in his voice.

Like you, he must be wondering whether so long a time away from life at the castle has made you forget everything you’d learned.

“I think so.” And with bated breath, you read, glad that you’d tried so hard to learn and only slightly surprised that you understand every single word she’s written.

If you are reading this note, it means that I was right.

First, believe me when I tell you that every word I spoke of King Rogers’s death was true. There is indeed a threat that would take his life and that of your father’s and King Thor’s as well.

I thought that perhaps King Rogers’s death would be enough to convince you that what we needed to do would be necessary and I am glad to say I was right.

What I did not tell you is that I knew the price to be asked would be the life you’d built within the castle in Broklin. I could not bear to tell you that you’d spent all that time suffering and building a family with him only to have it ripped from you.

Somehow, I don’t think you would have changed your mind even if I had.

After you spoke to me of your connection with the Asgardian king, I was wary of what it might mean for your future as Queen in the kingdom. There was only one chance to break the curse dealt by the spell to save your husband’s life and that was if you and he were always meant to be together.

Soulmates, I believe they call it. Two halves of one whole, set at opposite ends of the world to meet each other in just the right way to create what we know as destiny. In this case, the opposite ends you were placed in were poverty and wealth.

Your husband had every advantage in life while you had none. You were given no loves in life and King Rogers was given one big enough to eclipse the pull you would have for him when and if you met.

At the time, I worried that King Thor might be your true mate. The two of you were so well suited and perhaps I’m right? But if you’re reading this, it means that you and King Rogers found each other once again.

By some miracle, he or you have lifted the curse, and you can once more be together to live your lives and King and Queen of Broklin.

A fate you might not have found had I not thrown my purse into that bog by the road. I hope you appreciate my efforts, girl. I have worked very hard to walk you through this life but must now leave you to shape it on your own.

Don’t worry. I might not be with you every day, but should you need me, I will come. You don’t need to send for me. I’ll know. And rest assured, your husband’s life is safe.

There will always be evil in the world and he will always rise to fight it but be content to know that his life you most certainly have saved. Take care.

-Grandmother

You read the letter at least three times before Steve’s chin finds your shoulder, the scruff of his beard pleasantly rough against your skin.

“What does it say?” He wonders, tilting his head to kiss your neck.

You fold the letter and toss it away so that it won’t get wet, then lean back until you’re relaxed and can turn to look and admire your husband’s storm blue eyes.

“It says that no matter what might come to tear us apart, you will always find me.” You smile, reaching up to scratch underneath his chin.

Steve’s lips curl up on one side, a dashing smirk if you ever saw one.

“Always.”

#king!steve x reader #medieval fantasy au #royal au #arranged marriage au #steve rogers x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #steve x reader fanfiction #steve rogers x reader fanfiction #king!steve x reader fanfiction #king!steve x you #steve rogers x you #pseudo princess #avengers x reader #pseudo princess pt36 #shreddedparchment

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coffeebeannate · 3 years

Text

Two (2nd June)

30 Days of Immortal Pride

Kaysanova and Andromaquynh

Yusuf knew they’d come upon good water even before the inviting stream bed came into view.

Knew from the way Nicolò’s head perked up with sudden interest from Yusuf’s shoulder, where he’d been dozing behind him on their horse for a while. Felt, more than saw the little nudge to his hip, urging Yusuf to let him dismount to investigate immediately. Never mind that they’d only be a few moments from seeing it.

Yusuf can’t suppress the chuckle as he slows their steed, Andy glancing over with a small smirk from where she’d been guiding their pack horse, Quỳnh rolling her eyes fondly from her and Andromache’s horse.

Nicolò paid none of them a second of thought, sliding from the horse and heading down the slope on foot, disappearing with a quickness that greatly suggest running, making Andromache shake her head again, “Damned fish man.”

Her voice was nothing but fond, Yusuf’s grip loose on the reigns, “You know how much he adores swimming.”

All of them did, truth to tell.

But Nicolò revealed in it. He became attuned to when they had been approaching the perfect bathing and swimming locations, eager to stretch himself and let the waves carry him for as long as any of them could rightfully stand. Or until his skin was so purple that the only salvation was to dry off in the sun.

At his side, just a little ahead, Quỳnh was making motions for her bow, a grin spreading across her face that Yusuf knew both to fear and anticipate, admonishing her gently; “If you shoot him, it wastes an arrow.”

“Nonsense, just a little message.” She protested, both knowing she had 0 intention of legitimately going through with it. “Send a little signal over his head, might even be some game down there he can’t see.”

Hell, he might catch the thing if he tried.

He had before.

Instead, Yusuf leaves her to her own decisions, nudging the horse down the slope to catch up to a no doubt already soaking Nicolò.

He’s proven right when more of the stream comes into view, a small pile of gracelessly tossed clothing sitting in a discarded heap near some of the rocks, Yusuf scanning the area for a moving body.

“Ah, the only thing more inviting than I.” Yusuf joked, dismounting himself, starting to work on his own clothing with a little more patience than his water-fond lover, “Liquid invitation.”

A splash off to his right told him Nicolò had heard him, possibly, and was utterly uncaring of that fact, “Wasted words when you could be joining me.” Popping up fully till he was waist-deep, sliding his hands over his hair to push it back from his face, the deep, joyous smile taking over the entire expanse of his face.

‘Beautiful’, Yusuf couldn’t help but think, for what was a possible unnumbered amount of time. He debates laying his clothes out to wash after, but a sudden wave halts the thoughts, Nicolò reaching out for his wrist and yanking him unceremoniously forward into the water, making Yusuf yelp and splash about before he’s drawn into a quick kiss he can barely return, set right with a devious little cackle from Nicolò.

“Unbelievable.” Yusuf groused with no heat, hearing a nearby snicker from Quỳnh as she and Andromache finally joined them, “So impatient, so graceless, so utterly shameless and-“

A large, cresting wave interrupts them, Nicolò’s grip on his wrist pulling him to the side before they can both be completely overcome, Quỳnh popping up from her impromptu dive with a gleeful little noise, waggling her finger at them and leaning up against a half-set rock.

“Incorrigible!” Yusuf further protests through threatening to bubble laughter, “All of you, utterly incorrigible.”

Quỳnh simply leaned herself further back against the rock, arms braced behind herself, hair falling over it’s edges, body arching towards the sun. It made Yusuf briefly think of a painting.

“Worry less about me, perhaps.” She suggested, Yusuf unable to figure out what she meant before there’s a grab to his ankle from below, a sharp, undignified shout the last thing he could actually say verbally before he and Nicolò are tugged below the surface in unison, Andromache breaking through the water with a self-satisfied smirk as she took two short breast strokes towards Quỳnh, slotting herself into the empty space between her legs against the rock, leaning her head against her chest in time for the other two to resurface, Yusuf pushing both hands in front of himself and shoving a short, half-hearted wave towards them.

“No dignity! No grace, no sense of common decency!” He shouted, but the words were stumbled for how hard he was laughing, Nicolò swimming in short, lazy circles around him like a hawk circling prey, watching him as he broke the water with arms and legs, floating casually.

Quỳnh is clocking his movements with a lazy, lopsided grin, her fingers tracking a wet line against Andromache’s spine. Yusuf’s gaze hyper focused as he tracks the movements of Nicolò’s swim, Andromache’s eyes closed, content.

Suddenly, Nicolò darts hard left, diving under the water and leading Yusuf on an invigorating swim-chase, both breaking waves and swimming circles and laps around the rocks, careful to not get to close to Quỳnh and Andromache’s resting spot lest they disturb them.

Finally, out of breath and arms screaming, Yusuf surrenders, floating on his back while Nicolò moves to float beside him, arm lazily to the side, both staring up at the sky.

“You know..” Yusuf says, after a moment, “I have yet to paint you swimming.”

Nicolò hums, thoughtful next to him, rolling over onto his side, before getting his footing beneath him.

“We’ll be settling again soon.” He says, “Perhaps then you should.” Extending the hand Yusuf’s already reaching out to take, slotting their fingers together, letting Nicolò help pull him to his feet, arm about his waist, Nicolò’s fingers grazing the beard against his cheek, Yusuf accepting the kiss with languid slowness.

“Perhaps I should.” Before their mouths close all words.

#the old guard #kaysanova #andromaquynh #joe and nicky #nickyxjoe #andyxquynh #quynh and andy #immortal wives #the immortal quartet #nate does writing #fanfic #fic #ficlet #30 days of immortal pride

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panda-noosh · 3 years

Note

If you’re accepting requests could you do a Draco Malfoy x Reader fake dating AU?

this has to be the stupidest thing you have ever done.

and you've done a lot of stupid things, which is why you were most surprised when draco malfoy asked you to join him at his parents annual christmas dinner.

pretending to be his date.

you said yes purely out of shock, not even giving yourself time to think the decision over. yes, draco was attractive, and you had known him since first year, but never before had he even showed the tiniest sign of being interested in you romantically. if anything, he showed the complete opposite, sneering at you any chance he got, trying to upstage you in every class possible.

but you said yes, and now you're standing in the malfoy manor, and you aren't sure what to do with your hands.

it's such a stupid thing to be wry of when you're surrounded by dark wizards, all of whom have probably been linked to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but it's the one thought running through your mind. do fancy, posh, rich wizards let their hands dangle by their sides, or do they fold them in front of them? do you go in for a handshake, or perhaps two kisses to the cheek? do you even say hello, or just scowl at them like how they seem to scowl at everyone?

"what are you doing?"

draco's voice startles you. you'd nearly forgotten he was there, standing by your side.

"nothing," you reply. "why? do i look weird?"

"you're flapping your hands about like you're trying to get lift-off."

you blink, awkwardly dropping your hands to your sides. but now they just feel too heavy, like anchors weighing you down, so you bring them back up to your front, try folding your fingers together like people do when they have lots of money and no sense of humour-

draco groans and grabs your hands, intertwining your fingers with his before you can protest.

"just hold onto me," he hisses, before a bright, fake smile flashes across his face. through your daze, you follow his line of sight to see narcissa malfoy stalking across the grand room dressed in all black, her hair pulled into a high up-do that looks like it needed some kind of spell to stay in place.

"mother!" malfoy exclaims. "how are you?"

"very well, dear, very well," narcissa replies, and you nearly melt at the smoothness of her voice. after listening to malfoy begrudgingly snap your name for years now, you had come to believe all malfoy's could speak only in snappy tones.

"glad to hear it," draco says, before turning to you. "mother, this is y/n. my date - the one i was telling you about."

narcissa's dark eyes land on you, and then it begins. you have to start performing now, because he's just introduced you as his date, and you're here to be his date.

you pull your shoulders back, grin and say, "nice to meet you!"

draco squeezes your hand, probably telling you to lower the chirpiness level a little bit.

you cough awkwardly and try again. "nice to meet you, ma'am. mrs malfoy. a lovely son you've got here."

narcissa raises a brow. "indeed. and i assume you're a slytherin?"

"yes, of course." you glance at malfoy. "slytherin supremacy, am i right?"

the words are like acid on your tongue, considering you're a gryffindor.

narcissa smiles, all tight lips and raised eyebrows. "yes. it's good to see draco has a little bit of common sense when it comes to who he courts."

you have to bite back a laugh; courts?

"well, what can i say?" draco chimes in. "there was just something about y/n here that. . . won me over!"

you can't help yourself. "it's the fact i'm better at quidditch than he is."

draco's hand tightens once again. "actually, i think it was that day you got a U in your transfiguration exam and you started crying when professor mcgonagall tried fixing the beak you'd given yourself."

"oh, no, i don't think that was it."

narcissa throws her hands up. "okay! well, you can tell us all about how you two fell in love when dinner is being served; i have other guests to greet. draco, kindly take y/n to your room until dinner is ready. i'm sure they must be exhausted after the days festivities."

draco nods before taking your arm and leading you through the sea of dark wizards, none of whom stop to say hello. you're kind of thankful for that, considering you have nothing to say to any of them; all your life, you have been told to stay away from the very people you are walking amongst, and you start feeling a little woozy.

draco leads you up a grand staircase to his bedroom, which is a surprisingly cosy room, with a single bed and a beanbag in the corner, painted emerald green. multiple quidditch posters are hung upon the wall, as well as a framed photo of some old man with the last name malfoy who looks as if he would step on a puppy if he had the chance.

you let go of draco's arm and wade into his room, running your fingers along the posters. "i didn't think you were allowed free will."

"ha ha," draco deadpans, closing the door. as soon as it's closed, he tugs his tie off and throws it to the floor, groaning in relief. "christ, i hated that."

you turn. "i did a brilliant job, i think. she'll be expecting you to propose to me pronto."

"you really had to bring up quidditch?"

you shrug. "i feel like i deserved that after telling her i'm in slytherin. i'm gonna have to do some grovelling to mcgonagall when i get back for that one."

draco rolls his eyes before flopping back on his bed. the springs creak beneath him, his long legs dangling off the edge. you stand in the corner, watching him with your arms folded; he really does look stressed out, with his white hair wild and the top buttons of his crisp black shirt unbuttoned, revealing a collarbone that has no right to grab so much attention from you, but does anyway.

he places his ringed hands over his eyes and says, "i just really hope this works."

"why?"

he looks over. "what?"

you step forward, wrapping your fingers around the black metal bed frame. "why is it so important that your parents think you have a partner?"

draco's cheeks burn red, and you know you've hit a point in the conversation where he is going to nuzzle back into his hidey-hole. you never questioned him when he asked you to do this, too overcome with excitement and confusion to do anything besides agree. now, however, you're here, in his room, and he looks genuinely distressed at the idea of this not working, and you're starting to wonder why.

"well?" you push. "i want to know."

draco rolls onto his stomach, buries his face in his pillow. "it doesn't matter."

"it does to me. i'm the one who's doing you a favour here."

"it's a stupid reason."

you flop on the bed next to him, face beside his own. he peaks an eye out from his pillow and narrows it.

"i want to hear it anyway." you poke his side. "tell me."

he sighs, rolling onto his back again, clearly restless. your shoulders brush, heads inches apart, and it would be so easy to elbow him in the cheek right now.

"my parents thought i was acting a little weird when i came home for half-term," he mumbles. "they were getting really worried, and finally my mother asked me if i was lovesick, and i just took the first excuse i could find and said yes."

you blink. "literally, only a malfoy would ask their son if he's acting weird because he's lovesick. what does that even mean?"

draco shrugs. "i went along with it the entire time, and finally just told them i had a partner back at school who i missed, and that was why i was acting weird. they believed it, and i've been in the lie ever since."

"wow," you breath. "so we've been technically dating ever since half-term?"

draco smiles sheepishly, which is answer enough.

you chuckle, staring at the ceiling. "so what was actually wrong with you?"

he pauses. "what?"

"well, you said you were acting weird. if you weren't lovesick, then what was the matter?"

again, even more silence.

you nudge his arm. "hey. don't just ignore me. that's rude."

"i was lovesick," he says, like he was trying to make that point obvious throughout the entire conversation. "that's why i was acting weird."

you stare at him, waiting for the punchline. you try to ignore the disappointment that slides around in your chest, the sudden urge to storm out. yes, draco is attractive, and he's a good friend, and maybe you're only here to test the waters, see if something really can come out of this, but you should have known better. this isn't some fairy tale. you're a gryffindor, and he's a slytherin, and that mix is just unheard of, completely disastrous.

"oh," you mumble, looking back at the ceiling. "that's. . . grim. who's the lucky person then?"

he stiffens.

"come on," you push. "you can tell me. i won't tell them, i promise. then i'll have to explain what we're doing here, and i'd rather keep this between us."

"you would?"

your head snaps to him. "you wouldn't?"

he shrugs. "well, i mean, if you wanted to tell people this was our arrangement, i wouldn't mind. i don't expect you to lie."

"draco, this entire thing is a lie. i'll be lying either way."

he purses his lips, and your heart thunders in your chest; this conversation is weird, and you don't like it, don't like the undertones to every sentence, the vagueness of it all. if he has something to say, you want him to just come out and say it, because you're not sure you can handle any more of this subtlety.

"so who is it?" you repeat, quieter this time.

he breathes in deeply, and then he reaches over and gently grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers in the same way he did downstairs when you thought all of this was just a bit of fun, that you were nothing more than a last resort.

"guess," he whispers.

you close your eyes, biting your lower lip. "i don't want to. i might be wrong."

"who do you think it is?" he rolls onto his side, pulling your hand to his chest. you refuse to open your eyes, refuse to look at him lest you break down completely. you've learned in your years at hogwarts not to get your hopes up for anything, not even something blindingly obvious. "y/n, tell me. who do you think it is?"

"crabbe?"

he chuckles, warm breath tickling your ear. "wrong."

"see, i told you i would get it wrong. i'm not good at-"

"it's you, y/n. you know it's you."

you exhale, slowly opening your eyes to meet his own. leaning on one elbow over you in the way he is, you can almost pretend you're back at hogwarts, not at the most uncomfortable place on planet earth in your opinion. you can almost pretend there are no dark wizards walking around downstairs, and that you and draco are just. . . together.

you bite your lip, eyes flicking down to his own, which suddenly seem so much more accessible. he catches your gaze and chuckles again, a noise that truly has the power to drive you insane if you let it.

he reaches over and runs his thumb along your lower lip. "do you want to kiss me?"

"i want you to kiss me," you reply, almost breathless.

he smirks. "why does everything have to be a competition with you?"

you shrug. "that's always how we've worked, isn't it?"

"yes, it is."

and then he kisses you, slow and delicate. he holds your chin between thumb and forefinger, but makes no attempt to guide you; he knows you're capable of doing this on your own. he wants to see what you do, what you're like when you're under his spell, and you can honestly say that you are, have been under his spell from the moment you started teasing each other back in first year.

so you kiss him back, slow and deliberate, letting him know that - to you - this is more than just some fake dating plan. this is real. this will continue once you leave this party, if only he wants it to.

and from the way he kisses you back, he wants it to continue.

#request #hp request #harry potter #draco malfoy

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