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ninjahiccups · 6 months

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The Songbird of Asgard

Chapter 18: ...And Lies

AO3 Masterlist Word Count: 12.3k Warnings: Usual GoW violence

With the path decided there are now consequences to face. The question is, will those consequences change the direction it goes?

Part two!

This will probably be the last thing I post for the year, I've got some things coming up that will keep me busy. But I promise I'll be back soon!

And if anyone has any feedback for how the main cast is written (mostly Kratos, he's difficult) then please feel free to share!

Freya managed to get Freyr quiet and calm enough to remain stable, the dwarves had fixed up Kratos and Atreus's equipment, and now all they had to do was decide how they would approach their counterattack. It was a strategy meeting that they were all planning on participating in, but only Kratos and Freya managed to stay focused with the blaring distraction that no one could get over.

“Do you have to sit so far away?”

“I've been here the entire time, you're the one who's far away.”

“Could you at least move a little closer? I'm doing this for you.”

“And is it my fault you chose to make this harder?”

The almost constant back and forth between Heimdall and Eivor that never ended in one of them throwing up their hands and cursing the other out was astonishing to their audience. How Eivor managed to be so patient, and the fact that Heimdall more than tolerated her back talk, all while they both seemed to enjoy themselves was far from what anyone expected to see. Especially from the scion, further proving everything Eivor had told them.

Atreus was the most amused by their interactions, finding it absolutely hilarious that the most ornery being in all the realms could be ordered around by one of the nicest.

“Heimdall, please just lean over, I can't reach your sleeve,” Eivor sighed, letting the needle and thread fall down to her lap. She had managed to find a comfortable position to sew up the hole in the back of his sleeve, but he wasn't giving her much room to work with for the one on the front side.

He would continue to do so as well. “No.”

“Well if you won't take off your tunic —”

“I am not undressing a single layer in public.”

“And you won't lean over so I can reach, how am I supposed to fix it?”

“It can't be that hard.”

Eivor all but snarled, “It definitely is, and I'm not going to give up just to listen to you complain about this hole later.”

“Why would —”

“You will. I know you.” Heimdall only frowned at her. “Why won't you just lean over?” she asked while picking up the thread again and moving as close as she could in her chair without impeding the movement she needed to sew.

“Because it's uncomfortable.”

That answer turned everything around. Eivor put on an exaggerated pout and an overly sympathetic voice as she managed to get the needle through the fabric just once. “Awwww does it hurt?”

“Stop it.”

“Do I need to give you a big hug to make you feel better, Dall?”

Atreus, who was sitting at the opposite end of the kitchen table near Freyr, had to hold in a snicker at that, but the horned severed head on the table didn't try nearly as hard.

“Do not call me that here!” He growled under his breath, suddenly remembering it wasn't just Eivor listening to him. It was amazing how quickly he forgot where he was when he had her full attention.

“Oh, you don't like it?” A mischievous glint shined in those green eyes, one he didn't care for at all. “Then maybe I should call you —”

“Do NOT!!!!”

Eivor snickered to herself at his sudden interruption, loving that just the suggestion of uttering his other, more embarrassing nickname in the open sent him reeling. “Then lean over for me and I won't.”

“I said it's uncomfortable.”

Despite the threats, she made no progress on Heimdall's attitude or her sewing. She tried to get one more stitch in while stuck in her hindering position as she chastised, “Honestly, Heimdall, you are such a baby.”

That did it. “I am not a baby!” A line that triggered more laughing from Atreus, feeling like he was finally getting some revenge by witnessing this.

Barely holding in a giggle while still attempting to sew, Eivor mocked, “Yes you are, you're a big ol’ whiny baby.”

Regaining some of his cool when he heard even more laughter from the runt just a few paces away, he bluntly replied, “I'm in the perfect position to push you.”

“Awww is the big baby going to push me? Or is that too hard too?”

Just as he said, with Eivor seated at the very edge of the chair, crossed legs and and shifting most of her weight forward, Heimdall only needed to lift his other arm and give the slightest push to her shoulder for her to lose balance and teeter to one side, her hand shooting down to catch herself before she went too far. Heimdall smirked at the sudden shift in her, going from impish to irritated. While holding up her needle and pointing it at him she scolded, “If you do that again I will stab you in the face with this, you know I will. Now lean over!” Her hands waved at him wildly, tired of arguing over this.

Thankfully, Heimdall broke first, scoffing as he finally leaned his torso closer to her, straining his core a bit but dealing with it so they could move on.

“Thank you, was that so hard?” The exasperation in her voice was enough consolation to make Heimdall chuckle, startling the onlookers with his good mood despite his annoyance. In just a minute she sewed up the hole, making it look good as new. “See? It wouldn't have taken so long if you weren't fighting me the whole time.” Picking up the needle and thread, Eivor stood to return to Sindri's forge, sounding like a mother directing a child as she requested, “Now roll up your sleeve, I'm going to fix that armored shirt underneath.”

Already sick of the watchful company surrounding them, he refused, sounding every bit like said hypothetical child when he grumbled, “I don't want to have it fixed right now.”

“Well that's too bad because I'm doing it now. Roll up your sleeve.”

Eivor turned and headed to the forge while Heimdall sighed and did as she asked, pausing when he heard uncontrolled chortles next to him, finding Atreus covering his mouth to stay quiet. “What is so funny?!”

“Oh, nothing!” Mimir howled, unable to hold it in any longer.

Atreus made the mistake of clarifying. “Y-you just do everything she says!”

It took every ounce of Heimdall's control not to ditch the truce and leap out of his chair to pummel the runt. “That's not true.”

Doing him no favors, Eivor called over her shoulder with a hint of warning, “It better be!”

Caught between looking horrible and giving Eivor reasons to make him look even worse than he could manage on his own, Heimdall glared at the boy and snarled, “Shut your mouth or I'll gut you!”

Kratos's eyes, which had been trained on Freya as they spoke near the front door, looked over at Heimdall, ready to warn him only once. Freya managed to save them both. “Atreus, would you mind getting more herbs for Freyr? Mimir should be able to help you pick the right ones.”

Trying not to cackle even louder at Eivor's final line, he only nodded and picked up Mimir, taking the long way around the table to avoid walking past Heimdall, who absolutely would have tripped him.

Eivor shook her head as she handed Sindri the thread for him to put away, already exhausted with the constant damage control. A break was offered when Freya quietly asked, “Eivor, a moment?” She joined up with the two leaders, worried by their lowered voices. “Kratos and I have been deciding how to handle the Einherjar. We believe it's best to inform our allies of what we're doing and have them remain at the camp, where it is the most secure. Based on my knowledge and previous attacks, I am certain I know which sections of the jungle the Aesir have made into strongholds, a large camp on one end of the river, and two smaller ones on the other.”

“But one of these areas is unfamiliar to Atreus and I,” Kratos added.

“Yes, and frankly it's more dangerous. The best plan to avoid being overwhelmed by reinforcements is to split up, but that would mean between the three of us, someone would have to go alone.”

Eivor nodded, still unsure of what they would ask of her. “All three of you are capable warriors, even Atreus for his age.”

“That is true…” Freya began, glancing at Kratos, “but we cannot agree on how to split up. I don't want Kratos or Atreus to go through a dangerous part of the jungle without a proper guide, so I have to take that route. Going there on my own would be risky — after all, I'm sure Odin wouldn't waste a chance to do some harm while I'm alone, and as comfortable as I am fighting, I only have two hands.”

“Maybe bring Atreus with you and send Kratos alone?” Eivor suggested, certain that they had already considered that.

“That was Kratos's solution, but I'm personally not fond of bringing Atreus to fight Einherjar among chaotic wildlife and poisonous plants, even by Vanaheim's standards. My solution was to send Atreus to the more familiar parts of the jungle alone, thinking he can handle it —”

“I do not trust sending him without aid now that we have Gjallarhorn. Odin may use him to force an exchange,” Kratos explained, showing no indication that his mind would change.

Freya didn't attempt to. “And that is a perspective I respect. The best compromise would be to bring a fourth party with us, and you are the best candidate. However…”

There it was. Eivor could see how their dilemma had gotten even bigger. “You don't want to leave Heimdall here with everyone else.”

Kratos paused, glancing at the scion as he watched them curiously. “Correct.”

“To be honest, he wouldn't want to stay here either. I'm positive he would rather go with me.”

“We had speculated as much. But if Freya will not allow Atrues to venture into the unexplored portion of the jungle, then I will have to go with her. And that would leave you to travel with Atreus.”

…and that would mean Atrues would be traveling with Heimdall.

Quite a predicament indeed.

This was far from ideal, and Eivor could only hope the worst case scenario didn't play out, but she couldn't let Freya's found family suffer more than they already had. Counting on Heimdall wanting to go with her, Eivor wordlessly held out her hand to Kratos.

The old god recognized the motion, having experienced it twice before. He held out his left hand, letting Eivor take it and cast her teleportation spell on his shield again, the thread fading when she looked up at his aged eyes. “If he is in any danger, regardless of its source, I will call you.” Her quiet voice paused for a moment, pouring out her honesty and sincerity with eye contact. “I won't let you lose a loved one to save one of mine.” A painful vow from the beginning, but one that would be even worse if her call would be what led to Heimdall's end. She would use every tool in her arsenal to keep anyone from getting hurt. Even if Heimdall was furious with her for making him look bad.

Kratos stared at her thoughtfully for a moment. He worried for his son, but he knew the kind of power she had very well. A power that was quiet and caring, but stronger than the tide in a thunderstorm.

A power that Faye wielded just as skillfully.

He gave her one shallow nod. “Very well.” He looked to Freya for her approval, which she gave with a nod of her own. Their path decided, Kratos made the final command. “Atreus. We are leaving.”

“And where are we going, exactly?” Heimdall bellowed, catching on right away.

Atreus jogged over to the group, and once he was there Kratos instructed, “We will split up. I will go with Freya, you will stay with Eivor.”

While Atreus agreed to that, Heimdall stood and stomped over, appalled that he had been ignored. “Excuse me, are you forgetting about someone?”

“Heimdall,” Eivor scolded.

He cut her off, finding her far too precious to be thrown back into the front lines with a bunch of hoodlums. The point she made during their tumultuous reunion still applied to her. If she wanders around without him to convince All-Father she was worth forgiving she could be killed, and he wouldn't let that happen. “You can't go back there.”

“I'm going, Heimdall.”

“You're not going.”

That fire he loved so much flared up enough to burn him, her disdain of his ordering her around like a servant only making her more resolute. “Look, you can stay or you can come with me. Whether you do or not, I am going.”

It was a standoff. Two stubborn individuals staring each other down, waiting for one of them to back off and give in. Heimdall could see right away that she wasn't going to listen to him, leaving him with limited options, none of which he cared for in the slightest. In just moments he sighed in defeat, glancing at Atreus and then Kratos before relenting. “Fine. But I'm going with you.” He hated that he would actively be taking part in this useless endeavor, but he wouldn't take another chance, not after he thought he'd lost her. Besides, this could be an opportunity for him to get Eivor away from these miscreants and bring her back to the safety of Asgard, and that was an outcome he liked.

“Then it is settled,” Kratos announced, not waiting for another disagreement.

Atreus handed Mimir to his father, mumbling to him, “Do I have to?” Exploring the jungle? Why not. Exploring with Eivor? Sure. With Heimdall? He'd rather be eaten by a fanged flower.

Unfortunately for the boy who predicted an awful night, his plea had no effect. “For now,” Kratos whispered back, not berating his son for the rueful “great” he said under his breath. The God of War turned and started for the door without any further comments, his actions alone getting his entourage to follow. As the door closed behind them Brok called out, “None of ya go dyin’ out there now!”

The unspoken consensus among the group?

This was going to be a long night.

It took only minutes for them to start bickering.

What was most unfortunate was Atreus's increase in bravery after seeing Heimdall be so tame with Eivor.

“You don't even know where we're going, do you?”

“If you know so well then how about you lead?”

“I'd much rather let you display your incompetence for as long as possible.”

“That's a funny way of admitting you're lost.”

“Ha! I'd be more than happy to make sure you get lost and are never seen again.”

When Freya and Kratos went their own way, after they agreed to meet back at the realm gate once they were finished, they both gave Eivor a worried look, one that she dismissed with a confident nod to assure them they had nothing to be afraid of. Now she was thinking their roles should have been reversed. Out of anyone on this trip, she would gladly say she was the most miserable. “Boys, please. Can we get along for just five minutes?”

Atreus sighed, “Tell me about it.”

Heimdall, however, gave an answer that his two allies expected. “It's hard to see eye to eye with a snake.”

“No, seriously, both of you,” Eivor made them stop their tense walk down the jungle path to look at her, glaring at both of them in a way that would make even the mightiest crumble. “Heimdall, stop being a jerk. Atreus, enough with the attitude. Just move on. Please?”

The scion only sighed, but Atreus took a moment to think about this. Eivor was actually a little…scary when she got this serious. A part of him understood why not even Heimdall would argue with her for long. But he'd rather die than admit that. “Fine,” Atreus grumbled, leading them forward again. “But we're getting close—”

“Oh I know,” Heimdall interrupted solely to remind the boy that he knew exactly where the camps were and was simply choosing not to share, earning an impatient nudge from Eivor.

Rolling his eyes, Atreus finished, “Then at least try to be helpful so we can get to the next one fast?”

“On your right.”

“Huh?” Atreus yelped when an Einherjar leapt from the trees to strike them, having reflexes just quick enough to grab his bow and bat the soldier away, then preparing an arrow to shoot at the reinforcements coming at them fast.

Heimdall chuckled, “It seems not even my help can get you to perform, hm?”

Atreus grit his teeth at the comment, but chose to make ample use of the frustration rather than letting it fester, as his father taught him. At this point he openly welcomed an outlet for his need to punch Heimdall.

The boy didn't hesitate when the few members of the preemptive attack were down and made the short sprint into a clearing that the camp was settled into. Eivor moved to join him, stopping only when she felt Heimdall's hand on her arm. “Why not let him handle this? I'd rather not do something to make matters worse.”

Eivor felt her heart sink a little, seeing an implication that he had already decided on going back to Asgard at some point and expected her to follow. She was hurt by how loyal he was even without the spell over him, but she also couldn't say she didn't expect it. Spell or no spell, anyone would fall back on the only life they ever knew, needing more than a few hours to see just how distorted their perception was. It made her worry about how much harder it would hit him when it became apparent that the knowledge he had was far from the truth, how he would handle learning just how extreme his ignorance was. For a brief moment she could only wonder how she would tell him just how little he knew, or how to deliver the cold reality of the magic chains he'd been wearing for so long. If there weren't Einherjar and a young god fighting nearby she would have had to take a breather to dismiss the despair the thought of his devastation brought her.

Unfortunately, the truth would have to wait.

Shelving her own feelings to pay more attention to her promise to Kratos, focusing on keeping the boy in their company safe. Tearing her arm free, Eivor found a way to get Heimdall to think just a bit deeper about his decision to sit out as she backed off to head into the fray. “That's a shame. It's been a while since we had some fun like this, but I guess I'll have that with Atreus instead.”

The playful lilt to her taunt and the smirk she gave him as she joined the jötun told him everything he needed to know. Using his jealousy and pride to get him to join in this useless charade. No, he wouldn't let it get to him.

He watched for a bit, telling himself that he was above the rebellion he was witnessing, but seeing Eivor in action, with all of her grace and beauty and skill, it reminded him of those days they spent exploring together, making bets and doing everything they could to one up the other. When was the last time they got to do that? Not since Eivor had finished looking for the artifact, actually, and that left him with more confusion than he ever noticed. If he and Eivor worked so well together and enjoyed being on a team, why wouldn't All-Father let them do it more often? Why force him to do things with people he hated? Did he never earn a single task he could do with the one person he liked?

He had earned that at least, and that was something he wouldn't deny.

It was a question he pushed aside, setting it with all the other strange ideas that had crossed his mind since this mess began. That also helped him decide that he, in fact, was owed some excitement with the one person he cared about, even if the runt was there to dampen the experience, and that was something he would have.

Besides, they were just Einherjar. It's not like they wouldn't come back. He'd thrown them around for decades now, it was surely something that could be forgiven.

Eventually he did join in, casually slicing through the Einherjar until he caught up with Eivor, who raised an eyebrow at him and looked too pleased for his liking. All he could say was, “I don't want to hear it.”

His focus was on remaining close to Eivor, ensuring none of the stupid brutes got close enough to her, but she made it increasingly difficult as she kept following Atreus, who bounded and hopped across the field, having no reservations and no fear of the hardened warriors, knocking them over left and right, barely needing any support from either of the capable gods near him. It caught Heimdall's eye, seeing that Atreus was more skilled than he had assumed in Asgard, but quickly brushed it off. He sincerely thought the half-breed would have to be bailed out at least three times before they were done with the first camp alone. At least that was a pleasant surprise.

Eivor caught his glances, not wasting the perfect opportunity to poke at him. “Heimdall, are you…” a pause while she momentarily took Gna's shroud and shoved an Einherjar with a huge hammer away like he was wearing paper rather than heavy armor, “dare I say, impressed with Atreus?”

Heimdall scoffed while he sidestepped and tripped another enemy that clumsily swung at him. “Oh look, he isn't dead yet. I'm sooo impressed.”

Thick with sarcasm, but the fact that he didn't refute her claim was answer enough. “I knoooow! It's almost incredible how well people can do when you aren't being an ass to them!” She laughed at his annoyed frown as one of her barriers flew out and smashed into another captain, grinning like they were at a celebration rather than fighting amongst the mud and blood surrounding them. Heimdall found himself smiling ear to ear, having missed the sight of her so much, and relishing in her beautiful display of magic. It was welcome, it was enchanting, it was… fun. A kind of fun he wished he was allowed to have more than once. Perhaps if he weren't so busy at the moment he would have noticed the flicker of resentment the thought brought out.

Atreus had to regain his composure when he took a cautious gander at Heimdall, making sure he wasn't doing anything suspicious amongst the commotion. Seeing Heimdall smiling, and in a way that wasn't full of mockery or cruelty or ire of some kind, only containing the joy one would see in every other smile, was so foreign that he had to confirm that he wasn't hallucinating. It was strange to see the watchman enjoying himself without putting down another. It was almost like he was human.

A ball of bifröst and a shattering of golden light later, there was only one Einherjar left, and it was finished by Atreus shooting an arrow to its face as he pinned it down with a foot to the chest. “Are you okay?” Eivor asked as the boy caught his breath, forcing himself not to look at Heimdall to see if he still looked like a normal person.

Atreus checked his surroundings, remaining alert until he was certain there was no more danger and slung his bow back over his shoulder. “Yeah, I'm good. I think that's all of them.”

Of course, Heimdall had to take a jab at him for making an obvious statement. “Really? I hadn't noticed.”

“You didn't? Guess that foresight of yours isn't as good as you think it is,” Atreus shot right back, quieting whatever part of him thought Heimdall might actually be able to feel any inkling of happiness.

“Don't start,” Eivor snapped before Heimdall could even open his mouth to fight back. “Don't start again, you guys were doing so well.”

“We weren't even talking,” Atreus shrugged with disbelief.

“Exactly. You two do so much better when you just. Don't. Talk. To each other.”

“I'm okay with that, honestly,” Atreus said, ignoring the glower Heimdall threw his way. Though he had to agree. He would much prefer if the kid would be quiet. Or dead. Either worked for him.

Just like the first round, Atreus led them through the jungle until they came across the next camp, this one taking a bit longer to track down, thanks to Heimdall's unwillingness to give him any clue as to exactly where it was. When he did manage to find it he could see that this fight wouldn't be quite as straightforward. The second camp was placed around a trio of enormous trees in the center of a clearing, the one in the center of the cluster taller than a mountain, the other two about half its size. They were surrounded by elevated rock faces, the camp structures placed in between the more reasonably sized plant life, aside from the one cliff that had a trickling waterfall flowing down into a tiny pond that was barely large enough to allow a bath. With such a major site, it took the Einherjar lookouts no time to spot them. As if it was a routine, Atreus went right to work, Eivor kept a close eye on him, and Heimdall begrudgingly let Atreus have the lead while he watched Eivor, much more concerned about her than anyone else.

Just like that, it was over. It felt too easy.

With the area having so much cover Atreus, as his father would put it, took the necessary time to double check the area, climbing across the rocks and keeping an eye out for any trace of leftover Einherjar waiting for them to turn their backs, not trusting Heimdall when he claimed the coast was clear. As much as he hated to prove him right, Heimdall wasn't lying and he found no signs of any more adversaries.

Eivor saw Atreus walking back to the edge of the stone, brushing past some shrub branches on his way. “Find anything?”

Atreus sneered at Heimdall for a moment, seeing his arrogant smirk. “Yeah, I think we're done.” He stepped up to the edge, preparing to jump down and regroup. “Now we just —” His sentence was cut off when sharp black talons grabbed him by the belt and yanked him backwards, making him yelp as he was thrown into the trees and practically disappeared.

Eivor wanted to spin back to Heimdall and ask if he didn't tell Atreus something was still out there on purpose, or if he didn't see that coming either. The words would never come out, her own shocked shriek escaping her when a blue and purple bifröst chain wrapped around her and heaved her behind Heimdall. The scion turned to follow her, growling in rage that whoever was left deliberately attacked her, and because he somehow had missed two unseen attacks. He was even more appalled to find just a simple Einherjar captain, wearing completely average armor with eyes shining through the openings of his helmet, holding the other end of the bifröst chain. Heimdall couldn't keep up the fury at the sight of such a stupid and easy opponent and laughed, both in disbelief and offense. “Are you serious? You have the nerve to—”

He was cut off when a shard of bifröst shaped like a blade cloaked in sickly green magic grew between two links in the chain that were positioned over Eivor's chest. The captain hauled her closer, the blade coming far too close to her skin as she was dragged to his side to sit on the ground at his feet. It wasn't the blade or the rough treatment that made him freeze, however. It was the captain's voice that sounded as his hand shouted out a command for Heimdall to stop.

“Hold on just a minute, Heimdall!”

That voice. Spoken as if he wasn't wearing a helmet, like the armor wasn't even real.

He knew that voice. One he had obeyed every single day of his life.

“A-All-Father…?”

As confirmation a green crystal raven flew across the captain's face, its translucent body giving Heimdall a peek behind the cloak to see a much older visage with only one eye, perfectly framed by the three dark tree trunks behind him.

Heimdall felt everything in his body turn to ice. He stopped, stiff as stone that was as old as time itself, unable to even move a fraction of an inch. There he was, committing the worst crime and Aesir could ever carry out, and he had been caught red-handed. He couldn't even think straight, had no way to decide where to even begin explaining how he ended up here or how long he should beg for forgiveness.

In the end he could only remain silent and listen as the All-Father spoke to him as Eivor stared at Heimdall, praying he would look at her again so she could tell him not to listen. “You'll have to forgive the disguise,” Odin chuckled casually, as if he wasn't holding a goddess's life in his hands. “As you know, my face isn't a welcome one in these parts.” Odin paused, pacing just a few steps at a time as he lowered his hand. “I must say…I'm disappointed.”

It hurt. That word hurt Heimdall worse than any wound could, feeling his entire body grow heavier as if he was collapsing into his own chest. His throat was dry and his eyes were locked on the god he owed his life to — the one who had raised him as his own even though he had an entire realm to lead. Eivor was subtly shaking her head in hopes that the movement would get his attention, knowing exactly how to ensure Odin didn't get his way.

“After all this time, after so many years of good service, dedication, and loyalty for your people and the greater good… this is where you end up?” The sharp words stung like burning needles stabbing into every pore on his skin, singing every inch of his body and leaving him too paralyzed to put the flames out. His instinctive reaction was to look at Eivor for comfort. She was the only thing that managed to thaw out the layer of ice that had taken over his being when she mouthed a message to him over and over.

“Read him.”

An odd request given that she knew he couldn't read Odin, and even if he could he was far too ashamed of himself to look the All-Father in the eyes, unworthy of such an honor. Which made Odin's response even more odd. After Heimdall looked down at Eivor for too long, he pulled on the chain around her, bringing that ethereal dagger over her a little closer to her chest, making her silent messages stop all together. Odin knew Heimdall had no power against such a mighty being like himself, so why would he try to silence her? Heimdall couldn't say he thought about it long enough, too trapped by the sheer disdain Odin held in both his demeanor and his words.

Odin continued as if he hadn't made a vague threat to his prisoner. “You gave all of that up, for what? A pretty face?” He gestured to Eivor with an incredulous laugh, shaking his head in a way that made Heimdall's stomach tie itself into knots. “Anything you have to say?”

Many things, but none of them were willing to come out. He surprised himself with one restrained thought relating to his comment about Eivor. Referring to her as nothing more than a pretty face? To him it was an insult of the highest caliber, looking past all of the things about her that made her so much better than everyone else, traits that Odin clearly recognized considering he was the one who brought her to Asgard in the first place. As that point came to mind, he was reminded of other times when Odin said something unfavorable about Eivor, all of which he had just…ignored. But this time was different. This time he felt the anger rising and staying there like it never had before, the fear being the only thing that got him to bury it for the time being.

At his silence Odin sighed, throwing up a hand only to let it fall back down and slap his side, but it sounded and felt forced. Rehearsed. And Eivor believed it was all to emphasize what he chose to say next. A master puppeteer completely in his element for the performance. “Y'know, I thought I finally got one. I thought you were the only one I got.”

Heimdall furrowed his brow while his hands shook, terrified of what he would say. The one good servant? The one decent god? The one reliable ally? Every single one would be a devastating status to lose.

He could only brace himself.

“I thought you were the only one of mine who turned out right.”

Not even a bug made a sound.

The entire jungle seemed to fade into a lifeless wasteland when Heimdall and Eivor took in that phrase, the latter feeling an uncontrollable rage consume her at the Aesir king's blatant manipulation. Heimdall's eyes drifted to and fro, the realization dawning on him in a way that only made him even more confused and dumbfounded, regaining control when Odin spoke again. “Yes, before you ask. That means exactly what you think it means.”

His entire body shivered.

All-Father was… his real father?

And he never knew? Was never told?

Heimdall couldn't make sense of it. It was such a massive secret, a huge part of his identity that was kept from him, but for what? And why bring it up now, after all this time?

Eivor could put it together right away. Heimdall and his foresight were invaluable to Odin, and with something like that he wanted complete control and absolute loyalty, and he would be willing to sink to the lowest depths to get it. To him, shared blood was not enough of a guarantee. Children would always rebel, breaking away from their parent's authority and rules eventually as they grow into their own person, regardless of how close they are to their parents. And that was not the kind of relationship Odin wanted. That was too risky. But to be a savior? To be indebted to a figure that could never be pleased? That was how he would get the devotion he wanted, far more than he could get by facing the obligations of a parent. He could have fulfilled them and earned such a loyal son. But no. That was too hard. He wanted the easy way out, no matter who got hurt or what the consequences were, so long as he got what he wanted in the end.

It was sickening.

Heimdall slowly shook his head, unable to spit out any sound. He had no words. How was he supposed to respond when Odin was still the one he admired for his entire life? While he still had Eivor chained and threatened right in front of him. Two very different extremes all at once, and he somehow had to figure out how both could coexist with a life on the line and a king waiting for answers.

Again, the old Aesir waved a hand like it was nothing, chortling like it was funny to him. The dryness to it made Heimdall flinch. “I know, definitely not a good time to bring it up, but believe me, it was for your own good. Your mothers, whoo, they were something else, I tell ya. If you knew ‘em you'd be grateful you were spared.”

…”them?”

That sentence alone brought up so many more questions.

“But we can talk more about that later, after all this is settled, eh?” The All-Father could feel Eivor sneering at him with blazing hatred, wanting so badly to grind him into plant food, but he couldn't care less. She was basically irrelevant to him. “Now, Heimdall, you know me. I understand that we all make mistakes. I understand that even you can make mistakes. I get it, really.”

Heimdal found himself blown away by how gentle Odin was, sounding like he was consoling his servant rather than reprimanding him. All of his past errors were met with harsh criticism and cold unforgiveness with a side of higher expectations that he always felt compelled to meet, even if it would cost him his time, sanity, life, or all three. A part of him was actually relieved and grateful that he was met with such a kind confrontation. Another was still too confused to understand why the change was so sudden. This was his worst crime yet, and this was the one he hadn't been ridiculed for?

Once more he looked down at Eivor for some balance of support, finding her mouthing the phrase even more urgently.

“READ HIM.”

Odin didn't miss her second attempt, ripping the chain back even harder and making the blade graze her chest, the cold magic left behind that coated the burning skin like lava.

“So I'll cut you a deal.”

Heimdall's eyes were watching the tiny gash on Eivor, his instincts, for the first time in his life, speaking up to say that the wound wasn't an accident. It was deliberate. A message.

Don't look at her, don't listen to her, or else.

For her safety, he looked back at Odin, listening carefully and praying his instincts were mistaken.

“You know I don't make these kinds of agreements with just anybody, but in return for all the good you've done for Asgard I can make an exception.” Odin raised his hands, lifting the chain just a little as he opened his free hand as if he was releasing something. “I'll let all this go. All of it, gone. Like it never happened. You can come back home, go back to your duties, get the life you had back, and no one will ever know about this blunder.”

Heimdall heard that statement and felt the temptation of his words, especially when Odin reminded him that all of this was a giant mistake. Put all this behind him, save his position, his status, and his reputation? How could he refuse such an outstanding gift? But he felt it again. His instincts, yelling at him to keep a discreet eye on Eivor. He glanced down at her, briefly to keep her from being cut again, only looking in her eyes for short moments to see what she wanted to say without her having to move a muscle.

It was the same message.

“Read him.”

“This one, on the other hand,” Odin said, words growing more stern as he jostled the chain in his hand, the ghostly whooshing sound of them making his spine tremble, “won't be coming back. But…I'll let her go, scott free. I'll pretend she didn't cause this whole kerfuffle.”

Heimdall shook his head, trying to look stunned to avoid drawing attention but glancing at Eivor halfway through as a means to give her an answer. “I can't,” the action said silently.

“You can.”

What made her think that?

“On one condition.”

Heimdall winced at the commanding tone Odin adopted, watching as his hand reached out to him, palm up. He spoke only one word.

“Gjallarhorn.”

A single phrase that made his entire being nearly shrivel up into dust on the spot. To give up Gjallarhorn was to give up his title, his destiny, his symbol of achievement and prestige. To lose that meant he had lost everything.

Except Eivor.

Which was the only reason he was willing to do it. A possibility that the blue eyes witnessing the exchange were afraid of. And waiting for.

“Don't give me that look, I promise it's not because of you,” Odin reassured, though Heimdall doubted the sincerity before he could help it. “With everything that's happened and all the people who want it I just think it's best to keep it locked up somewhere until it's time to use it. And hope it ends up staying there forever.” His voice grew lighter and softer, more comforting than commanding. “And that's it. Do that and you can come home. You'll be welcome with open arms. And Eivor can live. That's a lot better than letting her be on the run, right? That's a lot more than she'll get if she's caught by noble Aesir, like the Valkyries, don't you think?”

Yes, it was. If he had to choose between being with Eivor or her being alive, he would, despite how miserable it would be, he would rather not wait for her to die. It was far from an outcome he wanted but was the best he could get. Did he even have another option?

He couldn't see one.

And he would rather live without Eivor and his titles than put her through more pain than he already had.

That stung, the thought of everything he'd done to her. Far more than anything Odin's disapproval did to him.

Perhaps All-Father was right…He had already seen so many times that he didn't deserve her. Maybe he should give her up to make her happy. And safe. Maybe All-Father's wisdom was guiding him, like it always did. Maybe it would be better this way…

“You're smart enough to know the right choice,” Odin added, making himself very sweet and kind as he used one last comment to drive it home. “You really are, son.”

Unfortunately, it worked. Heimdall was leaning more towards returning to his captor rather than running away from him.

Eivor's teeth grinded together, her jaw cramping from the amount of pressure they applied. He knew exactly what he was doing. Saving all of the confessions and endearments until it would serve him the most, using it all to mask that he was only serving himself. She really had never been more disgusted.

She wouldn't let him get away with it. Even if it cost her life.

Slowly, mind still in shambles from Odin's final word ringing in his head, Heimdall reached behind him to take Gjallarhorn off of his belt. To give Odin what he asked for, as he always did. Going back to who he used to be before her. Letting it all go for the sake of comfortable familiarity.

But it just…it just wasn't fair.

As childish as it sounded, he was adamant about that. His entire life selflessly spent in service, never asking for anything in return, and this was all All-Father could do for him?

And All-Father would ask him to go back to that service knowing it would destroy him? Then what was even the point of taking him back?

It didn't feel right. Something just wasn't right.

His eyes went to Eivor again, wanting so badly to hear her speak and make this nightmare end, only finding one phrase in her mind.

“Trust me.”

Trust her.

He did trust her, always and forever. She never made him wonder.

But, after all this, Odin had given him reason to doubt.

With that, it was much easier to choose who to listen to.

Swallowing the lump in his throat and slowing his shaky arm as it brought Gjallarhorn around to his front, ears ringing and eyes hazy, Heimdall finally looked up at Odin, straight into those disguised eyes.

It was shocking enough to feel anything, but he did. Normally whenever he looked Odin in the eyes he would see nothing, a blank slate of nonexistence, as if his foresight couldn't see anything at all. This time there was something there, but not a mind. A wall, blocking him, very much like the barrier he felt when he first met Eivor, forbidding him from seeing what was inside. But he had to get through. He wanted to see if everything Odin had revealed was true despite how horrifying it was to breach such a sacred place. As Gjallarhorn gradually floated into Odin's view and he took his time reaching forward, he took a closer look at this wall blocking his sight. He had spent years chipping away at Eivor's, her wall one of stone and metal that he had yet to crack. Odin's was much weaker by comparison, like old wood fencing ready to fall apart in the wind, and it was almost too easy to push over. Then there it was.

He could see into the mind of the untouchable All-Father.

And the ice in his veins only thickened at what he found.

Every word was true. Heimdall could see that Odin's confession was nothing but the truth.

Odin was his father.

But he didn't see that truth from fondness, pride, or even resentment.

He found it through his disgust.

Disgust for his own kin. Disgust that his once dependable son had been just as unreliable as his others, forcing him to take matters into his own hands. Disgust that made him hungry for punishment.

Heimdall could also see that. The punishment he was hiding.

Odin had no intention of keeping his word.

As soon as Gjallarhorn was in his hands, he would yank on the bifröst chain and plunge that magic knife into Eivor's chest to kill her, forcing Heimdall to watch as the life left her.

He was lying.

He lied.

Just like everyone else.

All-Father—

No, Odin was as fake and selfish as everyone else.

And he had… worshiped him.

Just like that so many lies had come to light all at once, from the ones Eivor had begged him to see for years to the ones he had thought of since he reunited with her, they were all just proof.

Proof that he had been used.

Pure rage. Pure hatred for the ignominy he would forever face for never seeing what others could so easily. The fury melted all the fearful ice in him while his hand stopped in front of him, fingers gripping Gjallarhorn like he wanted to shatter it, teeth bared in a deadly snarl and brow morphing to match the intense emotion in him as he growled out his first words since Odin revealed himself.

“You're lying!”

Despite her precarious position, Eivor smiled, wishing Heimdall was in a headspace to see how proud she was of him. Proud that he was finally reclaiming his freedom.

Odin nearly gasped, taken aback and stunned by the fact that Heimdall was able to break through the precautionary magic in seconds, meeting the rebellion he had done everything he could to prevent — and he was far from pleased. Dropping any respect and decorum, Odin's extended hand curled back as he barked, “You had your chance!” and he gripped the chain harder, ready to pull with all his might.

Heimdall nearly dropped Gjallarhorn and left it abandoned as he shouted, “No!” and raced for Eivor, but even he wasn't fast enough to stop such a simple motion.

But the blue eyes watching had anticipated as much, and they were prepared.

A red wolf sprung from behind the enormous trees and charged right at the disguised Aesir's arm, biting through the fake armor and into the arm holding the bifröst chain. Odin screeched, but in his attempt to shake the wolf off he still pulled on the chain, and Eivor cried out when the blade struck her before it disappeared from Odin's grasp.

Heimdall felt his body fail to function at the sound, only shaken out of the state when he saw Eivor crawl away from Odin, still alive. Odin managed to shake the wolf off, flinging it across the clearing and into one of the stone walls, making the wolf fade and forcing Atreus to take back his true form with a grunt. Eivor didn't hesitate to act, standing just long enough to shuffle away and reach an arm towards one of the huge trees, using her new skills from Freya's lesson to make a gold copy of one of them and send it plummeting straight down to Odin, the All-Father having to summon his ravens to escape the collision in time. Once he was gone and the tree exploded into glittering gold dust, Eivor collapsed. Heimdall raced to her, thinking that she had to be alright if she could still manage such incredible magic, turning her onto her back to see what her other hand was clutching.

His heart nearly stopped when he saw the blood.

And he could have sworn it did when he saw the wound oozing bifröst and an awful shade of green light.

His entire world — or what was left of it — fell apart when he heard her wheeze and gasp, her breathing strained like she was being strangled. “Eivor? Eivor!” He cried, looking down at her and panicking when all she could do was rasp in return. He immediately went to dispel the bifröst seeping from her wound, recoiling when the insufferable burning licked at his fingers and made them retreat. Unlike any other bifröst, this seemed to be beyond his influence.

He was powerless to help.

Atreus ran over to them to try to heal her himself, and Heimdall let him, but he had the same reaction as Heimdall and groaned at the icy sting on his hands. Before either of them could get a word out, there was shouting coming from all around. More Einherjar were coming out of the trees.

Heimdall was still stuck in place, recoiling at Eivor's raspy breathing and wet, uncontrollable coughing, despising how useless he was when she could have been dying in his arms. It was left to Atreus to be the leader. Drawing his bow, he demanded, “Pick her up and run, I'll hold them off!”

The former scion stared at him, the very idea of fleeing beyond his comprehension. He was an Aesir, he would never —

Then again, how would he know what he was?

The Einherjar were approaching fast. “Just go! Go!” Atrues urged, summoning a pack of spectral wolves to help him fend off the encroaching enemies. Heimdall sucked up his ego and picked Eivor up, being as careful as he could be while running at full speed.

Utter chaos. He ducked under branches, dodged poison from flowers, leapt over swords and tripped Einherjar at almost every step, using all of his foresight and reflexes to keep them from stopping him. He knew they would go for her if he was caught, and he would not let them touch her.

He would not give up the only thing he had left.

The gut wrenching thought was shoved aside when the red wolf appeared, tackling an Einherjar to the ground and trampling over them to catch up with Heimdall, transforming back to himself to instruct, “Down here,” while leading them through the forest and shooting enemies that tried to stop them. They came to the river, where there was a large stone in the middle to help them cross, but just before they could jump to it a ball of fire landed right on it, setting all the plants that made a home on top of it ablaze. Atreus turned around to see the Einherjar not far behind, and back at the flaming bridge they couldn't cross, trying to come up with any way to get to the other side that was faster than swimming. A clever idea came to him, one that Heimdall would detest but he didn't care if he got yelled at. “You're fast enough to run across something that's moving, right?”

Heimdall ripped his eyes away from Eivor to scoff at the Wolf. “Of course. Why?” Atreus didn't give him an answer, but he sensed what he was going to do and was appalled by the plan. “Are you kidding me?”

Atreus refused to answer again, shooting an arrow through the flames and into the thick trunk of a tree across the river, the flame hooked on its purple magic once it reached its target. He then drew another arrow and infused it with more sigil magic before hitting the same spot. The flame on the first arrow violently flared up and destroyed the base of the tree, knocking it into the river and sending it rushing down the water towards them. “Hurry!” Atreus said, shooting more arrows at the Einherjar just paces away from them. Heimdall sighed at how unbelievable the idea was, slowing down time at the perfect moment to sprint across the tree as it flowed past and make it to the other side, leaving Atreus alone.

The jötun proved to be resourceful again, using his bow to shoot a line high into another tree and swing across the river, the jump so rushed that he slipped and nearly fell into the water when he landed. Now that they made it across and the only way for anyone to follow them was in flames, the persistent Einherjar shouted at them and headed upstream, looking for another way to get to them.

With imminent danger away for a moment, Heimdall couldn't hold in his irritation. “Are you insane?!”

Atreus, to Heimdall's annoyance, only shrugged and replied, “Have you seen my father?”

Eivor let out a thick cough that left her wheezing and gasping even more, drawing Heimdall's attention and rekindling his hopeless desire to do something. Atreus leaned in and took a closer look at the wound, seeing that the magic oozing from it had only grown into a darker green. “That…doesn't look good.” He instantly regretted the words, waiting for Heimdall to chew him out for stating the obvious, but he received nothing. In fact, Heimdall didn't even seem to hear him. He just stared at Eivor, short of breath and pain evident on his face.

Atreus had never seen him so…scared. Really, he had never seen Heimdall show so much of any emotion at all.

He had to help. Rivalry or not, Heimdall needed help.

“This way, we can take her to Freyr's camp,” Atreus suggested, already starting towards their destination.

A terrible idea, Heimdall told himself, but he didn't have much of a choice. He would take anything to save her. It thankfully wasn't far from them, and in minutes Atreus pushed open the gates to the camp and called out for help. “Guys! Are you here?!”

Hildisvíni was the first to reply, the two elves and Lúnda emerging with him. “Atreus?” All of them stiffened when they saw who was behind him, drawing their weapons and pointing them directly at the Aesir that had cost them their safety and their friends.

The Wolf held up his hands and frantically waved at them, “Wait wait wait! It's okay!” He stepped aside, showing them what Heimdall was carrying. “Eivor's hurt!”

The crowd paused, looking at each other cautiously. Hildisvíni eventually made a decision, waving his bow down towards the fire and saying, “Put her down here.” Atreus mumbled his gratitude while Heimdall rushed to put Eivor down, resting her back on one of the logs by the fire. Hildisvíni slowly put his bow down as he looked at Eivor, finding the sight recognizable. “More Aesir were here?” he asked, kneeling down to examine the magical wound, listening carefully to her strained breathing.

“You know it?”

“I haven't seen it since the war…” Hildisvíni trailed off, magic emanating from his hands while he reached out to her, retracting his hand with a hiss when he felt the same pain Atreus and Heimdall experienced. “But this is different. Corrupted, somehow.”

Heimdall didn't care for his long explanations and stories. “Can you fix it?!”

“I'm not sure.”

Atreus listened to the jungle for just a second before asking, “Could Freya fix it?”

“I'm sure she would have a solution.”

Standing up and listening to nature for a few more moments, Atreus was already backing away when he said, “The animals are quiet around where Father and Freya were, so they have to be done. I'm gonna go get them!” Before anyone could stop him, he was off, shifting into a wolf to move as fast as he could.

Hildisvíni didn't sit around, getting up and making use of the team he had. “Gather our medicine, make sure Freya will have everything she needs.”

The group made themselves busy, leaving Heimdall to stare at Eivor on his own, taking in her shallow and aching breaths, how pale she was, feeling the loathing for his own uselessness settling in. Kneeling down next to her, taking her hand in his own and using his other to brush the sweat soaked hair from her forehead was not enough for him, not enough to make him think he was doing what she needed from him. It was agonizing to just watch and listen to her struggle, his only alternative to marinate in the lies, the shock, the fear, the cold reality he had been doused in. To just sit there, doing absolutely nothing as the only thing that hadn't abandoned him or lied to him slipping away right in front of him while he watched, practically blind and deaf with no way of making any of it stop…

He'd paraded his superiority around his entire life. He had sworn none could surpass him, none could outdo him. But now?

He'd never felt more worthless.

“H-Hei—!” She tried to call out for him, her choking snapping him out of the searing pain. “Eivor? Please, tell me what to do, anything!”

It wasn't a plea he uttered quietly, and all the onlookers stopped and observed in awe, trying to figure out if this was the same watchman that had attacked them just days ago.

In a way, he wasn't.

He paid them no mind, his undivided attention on his one and only Songbird while she sputtered and coughed in his arms. “I…it…” another wet heavy cough that was strong enough to make her shake. “H-hurts…”

Never had he wished to be harmed, only boasting that he never could be, but now he wished could be in her stead. To see her so weak that she could hardly express her pain tore him apart from the inside out.

Then it got worse. There was a commotion in the background, one just loud enough for the entire camp to catch, but he heard it clearly. It sounded like a fight, one that came from the direction Freya and Kratos were supposed to be.

He nearly crumbled at the hopelessness. If they were stalled long enough and didn't make it back in time he would lose everything. If he lost everything he ever loved and cared for in a matter of hours, then what reason would he even have to live?

Heimdall shook his head and clenched his jaw as he watched tears fall down Eivor's cheeks, his will to watch this happen slipping farther and farther down into the earth with every moment. He couldn't stand looking at her and did the only thing he could, pulling her in close and resting his cheek on her head, hoping at least this was enough to keep her conscious. “I know, just…just hold on. Please.”

Just sitting there, his skin burning with every wheeze he heard and cringing at every cough that tore through her, one phrase came to his mind from earlier that night.

“So that my last moments are with you.”

Eivor's alternative to having him at her side. All he could think about was how much he wanted that too, how much he would give to have her until his last moments and make her smile the last thing he ever saw. Now, with the very opposite happening, the despair was swallowing him as he envisioned Freya getting there too late, Eivor lost to him while he did nothing, left completely alone with nothing and no one to his name.

He couldn't. He just couldn't do it.

So he said it again. Something he said only once, years ago, but was never forgotten by either of them.

“Please don't leave me.”

He couldn't find it in himself to care at all about his home or himself. He could only beg internally.

Just not her. Anything but her.

The caw of a bird soared over the camp, a falcon hovering above the ground near Lúnda's shop until the magic around it flared up into smoke and revealed Freya, who Heimdall was glad to see for the first time since they met. “Where is she?” she asked Hildisvíni, not quite seeing Heimdall and Eivor behind the fire. The advisor pointed them out and explained what he found, the Vanir queen gasping, “By the gods…Get me a mixture of Shaman's Wicker and Lilac Feather immediately.” Freya dashed to her patient and kneeled down at Eivor's other side. “What ha—” She froze, concern fading and outrage taking over as she saw the magic emanating from the wound. She snapped at Heimdall, “Odin was here?! That bastard has the nerve to show his face —” Freya took a deep breath, quieting her wrath as Heimdall only nodded.

Hildisvíni returned with a bowl of powder that glowed a subtle lavender color. “What has he done with this spell?”

Freya bitterly spat, “Proven that I should never have taught him anything about my magic.” She dipped her fingers in the powder to coat her skin, then raised her hands over the gash and directed the purple powder into the ghastly magic.

“And where are Kratos and Atreus? Do they need help?”

“Getting rid of the Einherjar, they shouldn't be long.”

“Can you help her?” Heimdall asked impatiently, the dust not having enough of an immediate effect to make him feel any better.

“I can,” Freya replied, though her brow gave away the amount of thinking she had to do to accomplish her goal. “But we will need something stronger.” Pointing to each individual as she spoke, Freya gave orders to every person she had available. “Hildisvíni, gather Lamb's Cress from our supply. Lúnda, harvest whatever Albino Thistle we have. Byggvir, Beyla, get a handful of the Thornnuts from the tree outside of camp.” In a gentler tone, she turned to the only person who hadn't moved. “Heimdall, see those vines with the large leaves next to Lúnda's shop? Bring me three of them, no wider than your palm.”

He couldn't find it in himself to be irritated by being bossed around, instead getting up and doing as she asked right away. Another action that drew attention that he didn't bother to address. With shaky hands he inspected the leaves by the shop, picking three suitable ones as quickly as he could while his mind was moving too fast for him to comprehend, then turning to head back to Freya. There was an old spear with a freshly polished head resting against the shop wall, giving him a split second to see his reflection in the corner of his eye.

Blue?

Why did he see blue?

Unable to contain the curiosity, he leaned in a bit closer to the shiny metal. He could see it much clearer now. The blue was mixed in with the violets in his eyes. In fact they weren't just pink now, there were more swirling colors than he'd ever seen.

They were different.

He was different.

How much worse could the night get?

That wasn't important right now. Heimdall hurried back to Freya, handing her the leaves before reclaiming his seat next to Eivor, squirming as her wheezing entered his ears again. With a few more ingredients mixed into her bowl of powder, Freya dipped her hands in again, the magic flowing from her fingers an orange color this time, and thankfully getting Eivor to breathe just a little deeper than she could before. Feeling her weakly rest her head on his chest while she closed her eyes was almost too much for him.

“He was interrupted mid strike?” Freya asked Heimdall, who didn't even acknowledge her, too busy trying to keep himself from breaking down in front of everyone. “Well, whatever you did, it saved her life.”

Now he looked up.

“Had it been just an inch more to the right it would have struck her heart; a fatal wound. She's very lucky to have at most a punctured lung.”

Freya thought nothing of his thoughtful look as he stared down at Eivor again, but on the inside Heimdall's soul was only shattering more.

That runt…saved her.

While he was too gobsmacked to act quickly enough to do it himself, the half-bre—

Atreus saved her life.

Before a voice in the back of his mind could convince him to be grateful the Wolf himself returned with his father in tow, the boy reaching Freya and looking at what she was doing closely. “Can you help her?”

The queen nodded, but looked at Heimdall as she said, “Yes. But it will not be easy.” She let the lights drifting from her hands disappear, satisfied with the amount of magic giving her room to make her extraction possible. Leaning in a little to address Eivor, who needed whatever strength she had left to look up, did her best to listen as Freya gave her a very serious run down. “Eivor, I'm going to dispel the curse now, but I have to warn you. It will hurt. A lot. Are you ready?”

Eivor gave a weak nod, not having the energy to tell her to just get on with it and make this unbearable pain stop.

With a grim expression, Freya sat back again, making Heimdall's eyes widen when she chillingly said, “Kratos, hold her down. Don't let her move.” While the silent god kneeled behind Eivor and took hold of her shoulders, Freya continued, “Atreus, stay right here and watch carefully, I'm going to have you help me so we can do this as fast as possible. Heimdall…”

The lull in her instructions brought another overwhelming wave of shame. He was still completely useless, he thought, but was completely unaware that Freya was only thrown off by just how scared the watchman looked.

“Keep her comfortable,” Freya finally said, her face softening as she added in a much more soothing whisper, “She will be fine.”

If she wouldn't be alright he would tell Kratos to finish what they started hours ago.

Concentrating on the gruesome magic in Eivor’s chest, Freya reached towards it, her fingertips just beyond the green miasma before she uttered an ancient word, pulling her hands back on the second syllable.

It was then that Heimdall regretted every single thing he'd ever done that led up to this exact moment.

Eivor screamed, the pain of the cursed magic being wrenched from her body feeling like her entire rib cage was being pulled out with flaming ice, wanting so badly to lurch forward and curl up into a ball to keep all of the horrible sensations away, but Kratos easily held her in place. The hand that Heimdall wasn't holding flew out to swat Freya's away, but Kratos managed to catch her just in time, leaving her with no choice but to wail and sob with half her face buried in Heimdall's tunic.

All while the scion just watched.

The sound of her shrieks destroyed him. His stomach turned to ashes, his heart became the heaviest and coldest metal that crushed his organs, his lungs shrunk and dried out while he listened to her cry in anguish, the sight of her constant stream of awful tears making him wish he could rip his own eyes out to save himself from the sight.

And just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, Freya told Atreus to join her, both of them speaking the ancient phrase again while they pulled back even more, making Eivor's bawling even louder until her voice began to crack and give out. Heimdall wanted nothing more than to expel his soul from his being to make the scene just end.

It was just too much.

He never, ever, ever, wanted to see her like this again.

Never.

After what felt like a millennium, Freya gave one last brutal tug on the magic, rising to her feet and stumbling as the ugly curse remained between her hands. It burned her skin and bit at her palms, the goddess having to grind her teeth to stay in control of it. The magic wrestled with her, wriggling around in an attempt to escape and return to the host it had made a home in, but Freya's skills were too great. Grunting at the exertion, Freya let her own magic invade the curse until it began to shake violently, the Valkyrie queen ending the parasite by ripping her hands apart, her magic forcing it into the open air and eating away at it until it dissipated into nothingness. She had to take a moment to slow her breathing and shake out her hands after putting such strenuous pressure in herself.

Heimdall only looked at Eivor while the spectacle happened right next to him, his eyes not leaving her since her shouts came to a sudden halt and her body went limp. Her breathing was shallow, blood was still gradually leaking from the leftover gash, she was barely moving. The only thing he could tell himself as he eagerly waited for her to open her eyes was that they were too late.

“E-Eivor?” He breathlessly mumbled to her, the slight wheeze that was still present killing him even more.

Consciousness was lost for just a moment, but Eivor was strong enough to bounce back in spite of the exhaustion, grounding herself with the feeling of Heimdall's hand on hers until her hearing cleared up and the darkness clouding her mind faded. Very slowly, she started to regain her grip on reality, the sounds of the rustling leaves of the jungle, the warm air from the fire near her, the dull ache that was still deeply burrowed into her chest, everything was there to remind her that she was not only alive, but well enough to come out of the dark hole she'd been buried in and fight back against the monsters that put her there.

She was still too tired to speak or open her eyes yet, but she found the motivation in the tiny, desperate whisper she heard.

“Songbird, please…”

Heimdall used her nickname in public, in plain view of the entire camp. It told her just how mortified he was, how much he wanted her to show him that she was alright. Given how horrible this night had been for him, she had to get back up faster than her mind was letting her. She couldn't let him suffer like this. Her voice barely a rasp, tired and weak, she murmured to him, “I'm…okay.” Then, using all of the energy she had, she cracked her eyes open. Those beautiful true bifröst eyes were the first thing she saw, so filled with worry but finding relief when they met hers. “I'm okay,” she repeated, watching as he exhaled sharply, letting out all the tension that had plagued him.

Freya knelt down by Eivor again, looking intently at her wound. “Do you feel cold anywhere? A burning sensation?” Eivor shook her head, making Freya relax. “Good. Then the spell is gone. I'm afraid the rest of the healing process is just time and rest, but I'll give you some herbs to speed it up. Once you feel well enough we can take you back to Sindri's. Do you just want something to dull the pain…or would you rather have what Freyr took?”

“No, thank you,” Eivor answered, unable to keep a hint of a smile off her face.

“Wise choice,” Freya agreed with a chuckle, happy to see that the young goddess still had her spirit. She stood and told Atreus and Kratos to give her and Heimdall space, leaving the two alone while Freya prepared the medicine she promised.

Eivor didn't say another word, only resting her head against Heimdall while he stared at her, looking past her as he was lost in thought.

It just didn't make any sense. Nothing made any sense.

All these people hated him, and he hated them. But when he needed help, they all rallied to do something that he couldn't. When he was useless to them, they still let him stay close. They should have shunned him, thrown him out and told him he wasn't going to be anywhere near them while they treated their friend. Yet they did the opposite, putting their differences aside for the time being, treating him like he wasn't more than happy to kill them just hours ago. To say that they showed mercy didn't feel right. No, not mercy, it was…compassion. Showing kindness when they shouldn't just because they could. Until now, he firmly believed the only person capable of such a selfless act was Eivor.

She'd always said he was wrong, that there were people out there who did care about others. He never believed her. He never thought it was true.

But if it wasn't true, then none of this should have happened. Eivor should have died in his arms due to his negligence, or at the very least he should have been abandoned and left to wonder if she would survive.

So there could be no denying it. He was wrong.

Was that really so surprising?

Clearly he had always been wrong.

He held Eivor tighter, pulling her in close enough to bury his nose in her hair.

He didn't even know who he was anymore.

#songbird of asgard #heimdall #god of war #heimdall x reader #heimdall gow #gow heimdall #heimdall x oc #the songbird of asgard #god of war heimdall #gow ragnarok #god of war ragnarok

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slasher-male-wife · 2 years

Text

Slashers reactions to you giving them a forehead kiss

ALL I CRAVE IS A HOT MAN TO KISS MY FOREHEAD. Am I jealous because Carly got a forehead kiss from Bo? Maybe. But I wanna do this because I want kiss all of these men. I’ll probably make a part two if y’all want

Includes: The Sinclair brothers, Bubba Sawyer, and Leslie Vernon

Bo Sinclair

Bo’s on the couch at the moment, tired from the day he had.

You’re in the kitchen drying the dishes when you get an idea. Lester and Vincent aren’t around and you wanna see what he’ll do. You leave the kitchen and walk over to the couch. You stand near Bo and he smiles when he sees you.

You bend down and gently kiss his forehead.

You pull away and Bo takes a few seconds to process what you did. He quickly grabs you and pulls you onto the couch.

“Ya tryin to mess with me or somethin? Ya can’t just do that and not expect me to kiss ya back.” He rests you in his lap and kisses you all over your face and moves to your lips. You smile and kiss him back.

“I just couldn’t resist giving you a kiss honey. I guess I forgot to kiss you there.”

You two spen the rest of the night on the couch, cuddling, kissing and talking. Bo’s thankful his brothers didn’t see this happen.

Lester Sinclair

Lester just got home from work for lunch. Since you’ve been here he always comes back just to see you again. He’s standing at the door taking off his boots when you run up with a big smile.

“Hi lovely, lunch is ready.”

You stand on your toes and give him a little kiss on his forehead. When you pull away his face is pink and a wide smile on his face. He wraps his arms around you. He starts to plant kisses all over your face and picks you up.

“Look what you do to me sweetpea. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He kisses your forehead and carries you into the kitchen. He sets you down and you two eat lunch while his face stays pink and the smile still wide.

He’ll be constantly asking for you to kiss his forehead again. That or he’ll do it to you.

Vincent Sinclair

You’re in the basement with Vincent while he works on his newest sculpture. He has his hair in his face while he works on smoothing out the wax.

You get an idea and get up from his bed. You walk over to him and tug in his sweater. He looks down at you and you pull him down. You press your lips on his wax forehead. You let go of his sweater and he stays down for a few moments. A smile grows on your face.

He stands back up and sets his tools down. He turns back to you and picks you up from under your arms. He presses his wax lips on your forehead. He sets you down and you smile.

You puts your arms the arms of his sweater and rub his arms.

“I love you, you know that? I wanna kiss your forehead all of the time. Not just that, just your face in general. I really love you Vincent.”

You stand on your toes and kiss his forehead again. When you pull away he picks you up again and lays you on his bed with him. You two spend the next hour of two just cuddling

Bubba Sawyer

You and Bubba are in the living room. He’s sewing up some holes in his clothes while you read a magazine article to him. Once you’re done you look up at Bubba and your heart swells at how cute he looks.

You get up from your spot on the couch and go over to his chair. He looks up and you, you cup his cheeks and press a kiss on his masked forehead.

As you pull away Bubba makes a squeal type noise and pulls you into his lap and plants kisses all over you face. You laugh and smile while he kisses you all over.

“You love me that much Bubba? I was just a forehead kiss.”

He squeals again and holds you tight. You chuckle and hold him back.

“If you love forehead kisses I’ll do them more often then,”

He nods quickly and gives you your own forehead kiss. You guess your question was answered.

Leslie Vernon

You finally get to see Leslie more often without him just stalking you. You’re cooking him some real food because lord knows he just eats garbage all the damn time.

You finally plate the food and go over to the table he’s waiting at. You set the plate down and kiss his forehead

“Enjoy honey.” You say going to plate your own food.

He seems a bit shocked at first. He’s just looking at you for a few moments.

“I guess we’re really dating huh.” He says as he starts to eat.

“Did you not want me to do that?”

He waits for a moment before he responds.

“Well it’s nice to have some love when you spend all day out and about keep it up. I like it.”

You smile and sit down with him. He moves over a bit and kisses you on the forehead this time.

#bo sinclair #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair #bubba sawyer #leslie vernon #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #bubba saywer x reader #leslie vernon x reader #house of wax #sinclair brothers #texas chainsaw massacre #tcm #slasher #slashers #slasher x reader

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dr4kenlvr · 3 years

Text

TOKYO REVENGERS + MUSICALLY-INCLINED S/O

pairing: ran haitani, mitsuya takashi, chifuyu matsuno, kokonoi hajime x gn!reader (separate)

genre: fluff

request(s): Hiiii I saw you respond to my request s/o in a band, sorry for not mentioning the fandom (I'm dumb) Tokyo revengers with ran haitani and any character of ur choice thank you!!

Hewwo it's me who requested s/o musician (classical would be nice) I forgot to mention the fandom, so Tokyo revengers 🖤⛓️ thank you, feel free to ignore tho. And your writing are amazing <3

a/n: hii im deciding to combine these two because they're quite similar! also im not a band kid nor do i play any instrument so i hope i did these two justice despite that <3 thanks for requesting :) + not proofread sorry ily

RAN:

this man is SOOO in love with your talent, he practically worships your abilities

ran's never really had the interest or time to play, so when he meets you he is completely blown away

he'll ask you to practice in front of him sometimes but you honestly feel a bit shy with those violet eyes holding eye contact with you the whole time

he'll wear a lazy smile, and clap after you're done to show how proud he is of you

"that's my baby."

if you have a talent show, or a performance going on, he will be there

"you ready for the fight, ran?" - rindou

"huh? but y/n's got a show in 20." - him

pls rindou getsso mad when he forgets to tell him about your shows LMAOOOO

he'll bring you a bouquet of your favourite flowers to gift you right after and wrap an arm around your waist

if you're in a band, he'll like to meet your other members too!

he knows it might be an iffy idea because he is ran haitani,, but he thinks that it'd be nice to get along with his s/o's friends too <3

nonetheless, he's not pushy about it and would respect your decision if you wanted to keep your love life and music life untangled (mainly due to the fact that ur bf's a criminal)

at night, he finds himself humming the melody to your band's songs, smiling to himself because he's got such a talented s/o

MITSUYA:

mitsuya is so excited to hear that you can play music !!

luna and mana are also really interested, because they haven't been around someone who plays <3

"takashi, can y/n play us something?" -his sisters constantly ask him to ask you, but once they warm up to you they'll be asking you all the time

mitsuya likes to listen to music, especially when he's coming up with new looks or sewing together a new piece

he insists you can practice in his room instead of downstairs because he enjoys the company + the music doesn't bother him

he's also one to let you practice when you have his full attention- he'll sit his sisters on his lap and clap when you finish

"that was amazing, as always love."

if you're in a band, he would love to go watch your guy's shows

he likes to film you during them too, and when you watch the videos back you can hear: "wow, y/n's so good takashi!" "yeah! they're so cool!" "i know guys, they're quite the diamond."

it makes your heart flutter every time, mitsuya and his sisters are like your own little fan club

when you meet him after, he'll always give you a sweet kiss on the forehead and congratulate you on a successful performance

if you're feeling unmotivated or down, he won't push you to work because he knows that if you're mentally not for it? it'll show in your work

he knows this from experience so he's there for you whenever you need him

CHIFUYU:

i can't even express how much chifuyu is in love because of the mere fact you play

like, he was already in love with you but now he finds out you're in a band? and you play music? bruh..

chifuyu is so so supportive of you, when you play near him he'll cheer so loudly LMAOOO

"WOOOO!! GO Y/N!!! YOU'RE THE BEST!!"

and at your shows?? bruh.. someone shut this boy up (baji)

he's so giddy when you ask if you could show him a new piece you came up with

he won't ask you because he's sorta nervous?? even though you're the one playing not him

he sits and listens super attentively, and is stunned that you came up with such a beautiful piece

every note you played created a perfect harmony that had chifuyu staring at you with heart eyes

"so,, what do you think?"

"... woah."

when he's hanging out with baji or takemitchi, he'll keep them updated on your stuff

"oh yeah! they've got a gig next week, do you wanna come?"

"did i tell you that y/n has been practicing the violin recently? isn't that fucking cool."

baji and takemitchi are tired of his rambling, but not you so they come to attend your shows often as well <3

TAGLIST: @dai-tsukki-desu <3

#ran haitani x reader #mitsuya takashi x reader #chifuyu matsuno x reader #ran haitani fluff #mitusya takashi fluff #chifuyu matsuno fluff #ran fluff #mitsuya fluff #chifuyu fluff #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x reader fluff #tokyo revengers fluff #ran headcanons #mitsuya headcanons #chifuyu headcanons #request

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l-artemisia-del-secolo · 2 years

Note

What about Yelena when she’s jealous? On one hand I think she would be quiet and shy about it but on the other hand I think she would get mad and snap at the person who was flirting with/looking at r. I just want your opinion because you know and write her character so well.

Wild and harsh

Masterlist, Yelena Belova masterlist, latest fic, hit my inbox

A/n: jealous Yelena = broken Yelena

You told her about the encounter with your ex. She frowned. Yelena met X only once. She thought she met the perfection itself, so wholesome, so pure. Yelena knew that with X you were as close to happiness as it was possible. Her affection broke a little, tiny dent in her love reminded Yelena of her own imperfection.

When you said you had to work with X, your girlfriend gave you a smile. She was supporting you and she had no right to show her discontent.

You knew she was hurt, but you couldn't change the circumstances of your work. You were supposed to be a part of X's project for a month.

And with every day Yelena's jealousy was turning her into a completely different person. She was becoming her old self. Broken and heartless.

As if it wasn't enough, Yelena saw you and X together. Your girlfriend was waiting for you on the street. But you appeared not alone, with X. And the other woman was too close.

Yelena growled, you belonged to her. And at least here she could show it. Her movements were fast, polished and full of strength. She pulled you into a hug, she hissed "have a good day" at X, she claimed a skin of your neck as hers. She was feral, she was raw, she was harsh. Yelena was knuckles deep in you, when she was driving home. She didn't feel powerless at the moment, she felt persuasive.

But it was only one night, Only a slight shift in her jealous state.

If only you could read her mind. If only you could feel her thoughts in every touch and hear them in every moan. She was begging for your love. She was begging for you to heal her again.

She became so broken, that she didn't feel you anymore.

Yelena was waking up from nightmares and only your peaceful sleep could calm her down. "Please, please." She was whispering "You need to love me again. I will no longer be wild and harsh. Our whole life is ahead of us. I will be like the others."

You were kissing her eyelids in the morning, she was leaving bruises on you. "what am I supposed to do with my sadness?" her fingers were demanding an answer, "Should I lull it to sleep? Should I fall asleep myself?"

Yelena had nothing more than a stone with veins of copper in her chest. Her jealousy won. Too terrible to touch, too ugly to look at.

She started to call you every hour, messages and texts overwhelming you. You were answering to every single one of them. You loved her. When you were coming home, she was often silently guiding you to the most uncomfortable chair you had in the kitchen. She was sitting on your lap, she was cupping your face with her trembling hands. "I carry such sadness in my chest. As if they pulled out the heart, but forgot to sew it in. But those who broke me did not love me. And you love me, I beg of you."

30 days passed. Everything was back to normal on the surface. But you both knew Yelena's jealousy was far from being away. You learned to read her eyes and she was begging once again. "That seal on my chest. You need to love me again. I will no longer be wild and harsh. Our whole life is ahead of us. I will be like the others."

*another Yelena fic

#black widow 2021 #black widow fic #marvel self insert #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova x you #yelena belova fanfiction #black widow #600sentencescelebration

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yellowcabdriver · 3 years

Text

love language

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Javier wants to love you the right way.

Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

Warning: none

A/N: this was written in like 20 minutes before I went to sleep so sorry in advance for mistakes 🥲 Also, a kiss on a head for those who guesses Javier’s love language I tried to force in here 🥰🤣

“What form of love language do you prefer?”

You raised your head from the paperwork you had been filling out for what seems like an eternity.

“What?”

Elena shook some heavy-looking glossy magazine in her hand.

“There’s a test in here. Wanna find out?”

You went back to filing the report and shrugged your shoulders.

“How many love languages are there anyway?”

“Umm…” Elena quickly flipped through a few pages. “Five.”

Usually, you were not the one to indulge in magazines, especially not at work but… it had been a long day at the embassy. Very long. You spent the first part of the day typing out reports for Noonan, then you had to go to the archive and sew together some old documents in a badly lit backroom in the company of, you were sure of it, a ghost of someone who died in that backroom choking on an ungodly amount of dust. Your back was aching, high heels required by the dress code were straight up slaughtering your feet one step at a time. And also, you were bored out of your mind.

“Wow, okay.” You sighed and plopped down on a chair. “Sure, let’s see. I needed a break anyway.”

With a victorious shriek, Elena started reading out questions and marking the answers down on the pages with a pencil that desperately needed to be sharpened.

“Okay, you got…” her lips inaudibly moved as she was counting the results. “You got words of affirmation.”

“Oh, bullshit!” You threw your head back in sardonic laughter and stretched out your legs. “I don’t enjoy being complemented at all, I always get super uncomfortable!”

Elena shrugged her shoulders as she was erasing her pencil notes from the magazine.

“Maybe you do, somewhere deep down.”

“Nope, not a chance,” you snickered. “Your magazine is full of lies.”

“Hey!” Jokingly offended, Elena hugged the magazine to her chest. “It’s my only entertainment in this lifeless pile of paper!”

“What did you get then?” You asked, propping your cheek with your palm making you sound all muffled.

“Acts of service.”

“Well then, I’ll tell David to serve you up real nice.”

An enemy missile in the form of a crumpled piece of paper landed on your table.

“Oh screw you!”

“What’s the hustle?”

Elena and you immediately straightened up at the voice of a visitor who, upon further inspection, turned out to be your boyfriend, Javier.

“It’s just me, not Noonan,” he raised his palms slowly walking to your table as you two relaxed into your previous positions. Javier sat down at the edge of your table next to your chair and leaned down to kiss you on the forehead, this was his way of saying hello.

“Are you ready to go home?” He asked. Boy, were you ever.

“Of course, I am. So tired,” you complained suppressing a yawn. Javier smiled, soothingly stroking your hand.

“Let’s just go home, they don’t even pay us any overtime anyway,” Elena muttered, shooting a resentful stare at the piles of documents in front of her.

“By the way,” Javier turned to look at Elena. “David is downstairs, I think you’re gonna catch up.”

These words were enough for Elena to throw away her magazine, which honour she was just defending by violating a Geneva Convention of friendship, and bolt out of office without further ado. You and Javier looked at each other in amusement and burst into laughter at the same time.

“We should also go.”

“Yep, let’s go home.”

Nominally, “home” was Javier’s apartment, it was closer to the office and was overall much nicer than your place. Driving down the familiar street—the next turn after that yellow house, you were thinking, is home—Javier put his hand on your lap and asked you:

“Why were you arguing with Elena? Did she do something to you?”

“Oh, she did, she Inflicted the pain of knowing the content of a beauty magazine,” you half-heartedly complained, enjoying the warmth of Javier’s large hand on your thigh. Javier grinned at your remark.

“That harsh, huh?”

“We were just bored and decided to take a dumb test from the magazine.”

Javier chuckled as he quickly glanced at you, his yellow aviators catching a glimpse of the setting sun.

“About what?”

“Something about love language.”

“And what about it?”

“Well, found out that my love language is apparently words of affirmation.”

The car slowly stopped in the driveway as you reached Javier’s apartment building.

“Really?” He smiled at you, kissing the back of your hand. You almost melted at the gesture of his casual affection.

“Yes, who would’ve thought, right?”

Javier laughed again, exiting the car and jogging to your side to open the door for you. You jumped down and placed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth as a thank you.

“So it means you need to hear words of affirmation every day? Like your Cleo?” Javier asked, locking the car doors and turning slightly to look at you with a smile. You snorted. “Your Cleo” was a plant sitting comfortably on a windowsill of your office. She was a dying little thing until you saved her from being literally abused in the dark hallway of the embassy. Once you got her into a well-lit room and started watering her properly with actual water and not residue 3-in-1 coffee, Cleo turned into a stunning blooming beauty. You did talk to her, mostly paying her compliments—yes, weird, but you read somewhere that plants responded to positive affirmation. Javier, of course, didn’t believe any of that but for you, and he highlighted that specifically, he would greet Cleo every now and then when he entered your and Elena’s office.

“I am not like Cleo!” You huffed, making Javier smile as he hugged you by your waist and you two started walking towards his apartment. “But I believe everyone flourishes under kind words, don’t you think?”

Javier opened the door to his place and let you enter first.

“That’s a fair point, hermosa.”

The evening went by as it usually did: you two ate a dinner that Javier quickly put together—you maybe were a better cook but a slow one, for sure. Then you went to put Javier’s clothes into a washing machine, a dreadful loud thing that was tumbling around so hard you were afraid it would explode, while Javier washed the dishes. Finally, you two settled on the coach to watch some classic evening telenovelas because nothing relaxes a person more than an intricate plot of a tv show where somehow everyone ends up being everyone’s relative.

You were very engulfed in an episode—main character shot a man who turned out to be her biological father,—when Javier quietly asked:

“Am I saying enough compliments to you?”

“What?” You let out an involuntary laughter but as you turned to look at Javier, he didn’t seem to be joking.

“You said your preferred love language is words of affirmation and I’m… cariño, you know I’m not good with words,” Javier let out a bitter chuckle rubbing his temple—a nervous habit. “Am I showing you enough love?”

Oh.

That you didn’t expect.

You turned the volume down and quickly climbed on Javi’s lap. He uncomfortably glanced up at the ceiling with a vulnerability you never saw him exude before. You could see something you would believe was more of your thing—an insecurity of being not enough.

“Javi, please, look at me,” you took his face in your hands and he immediately left a quick kiss on your palm, like a reflex.

God, that man was gonna be the death of you.

“Javi, my love, I never said anything about my preferences, it was just a dumb magazine. And besides, I don’t need to hear compliments, you know I can’t even take them well!” you said causing Javier knowingly to raise his eyebrows in agreement. Your left hand found its way to the back of his head and into his soft curls making Javier groan quietly.

“I love you so much and I love your ways of showing affection. I feel loved, if anything I feel adored.” You let your right index finger trace his aquiline nose and Javier closed his eyes at your tender touch. You began to press soft kisses all over his face.

“You love me so well, Javier Peña. You are so caring, so wonderful, so handsome, and sooooo sexy…” you exhaled as your kisses reached his jaw and you felt him smile. “I love you, Javi. So so much.”

Javier opened his eyes and pulled you in for a proper kiss.

“I love you, too, mi corazon,” his hands gently squeezing your thighs.

As this gesture pressed you closer, you felt the tightness in his jeans. Jokingly widening your eyes you glanced down, between your bodies, as Javier offered you a shy boyish grin.

“Ohh, but I see that someone else’s love language is definitely words of affirmation.”

Javier’s hands slid under your shirt and tightened around your waist as he began to leave open-mouthed kisses on your neck prompting you to let out a shamelessly loud moan.

“Oh yeah, I guess I forgot to mention that,” he softly said, nuzzling his nose into your neck. “I really love to hear your praise, mi amor.”

#javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #my fic #fluff

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the-little-shadow · 3 years

Text

Beautiful, My Beautiful Lady.

Cold anon : Hello there sleepyhead, just wanna ask - do you take some request about writing too? If yes, could you do Donna x Servant(male) reader with a song that i do adore by mindy gledhill? If not - then please ignore this request!

I hope you have a great day or night! -Cold Anon.

Sleepyhead : Hello there -i finally have my personal Anon- and yes, i could do it for you so no need to be shy to request something! Though it'll take some time since i'm still a college student- i hope you like it!

A/N : the reader has telekinesis-

Summary: Donna sings to herself as the reader leaves the house to buy some groceries from Duke. The song contains Donna's feelings for the reader and she doesn't realize that the reader hears the song she sings. Can Donna explain the truth to the reader? In particular, can the reader accept Donna's feelings?

Seeing that it had snowed and the temperature was starting to get colder, [Y/N] took the coat that was hanging and put it on neatly. [Y/N] didn't forget to also wear a scarf Donna made. Taking a deep breath, the [colour] eyes immediately turned towards to the hanging mirror. A gentle smile slowly etched on his face, [Y/N] was so happy that he finally got to wear the scarf that was so precious to him.

Angie, the doll, notice this. She immediately got off the chair and approached [Y/N]. "Where do you want to go?" she asked, tilting her head. "Ah, Angie. I just wanted to buy some things from the Duke - we are run out of groceries. Can you tell Lady Beneviento that I'll be back soon?" Angie's attention immediately turned to the window showing the snowy season outside, she looked back at [Y/N]. Quickly, the doll hugged [Y/N]'s pants tightly making [Y/N] flinch slightly.

"Then come back soon, okay? It's so cold outside, Donna and I don't want you to get sick, even worse, a high fever like that time."

[Y/N] softened his gaze then he squatted down and patted Angie's head lightly, "I promise, I won't be long." After reassuring the doll, [Y/N] stood back up and started to grip the doorknob. "I'm sure of that." Angie watched his figure leave their house and closed the door so the temperature inside the house wouldn't get colder.

Not wanting to make the Dollmaker wait long, Angie immediately went to Donna's room. She opened the door and saw the owner of the house was now sewing clothes for other dolls. "Mother! Father said he was going away for a while to buy some things from the Duke, he promised he would be back soon." Angie told Donna as she walked over to her.

"Is that so? he'd better keep his word." Donna replied, she looked at Angie then motioned herself to sit on her lap. "Father also wears a scarf that Mother made for him. He looks very handsome when he wears it." She exclaimed happily, both of Donna's cheeks blushed as she imagined the man wearing the scarf she had made.

"Angie, please. Stop calling him Father. He's not my lover nor husband-"

"-Yet. He's going to be MY Father soon."

Donna couldn't help but sigh when Angie said that, she immediately finished her work for hours and then she went to the main room with Angie in her arms. She looked at the painting of herself and Angie with the man, a gentle smile she could see on [Y/N]'s handsome face. The man's presence made her life shine brighter again, Donna was really grateful for that.

She slowly hummed then she began to sing, "everything you do it sends me,"

She put Angie on the chair and took a photo of [Y/N] which was on the table. "higher than the moon with every twinkle in your eyes,"

She started to circle around the table while looking at [Y/N]'s photo, "you strike a match that lights my heart on fire-"

Hearing this, Angie immediately panicked, "Mother - Are you okay!?" Donna looked at Angie and then she reassured her doll that she was fine. "When you're near i hide my blushing face and trip on my shoelaces" Angie just rolled her eyes and let Donna continue singing.

"Grace just isn't my forte- but it brings me to my knees when you say,"

The Dollmaker put the man's photo frame back and poured the tea into her cup "hello, how are you, my darling, today?"

After pouring tea into each cup, Donna took her seat and held hers, "i fall into a pile on the floor, puppy love is hard to ignore."

Donna turned her attention to the man's photo frame "when every little thing you do i do.. Adore." Then she put on her sad smile on her delicate face. With that, Donna sipped her tea with a calm and messy feeling.

"... lady Beneviento?"

Donna's eye widened when she heard her servant's voice, Angie immediately look at her Mother's back and saw [Y/N] is now standing in front of the door with blush on his cheeks. "Ohoho~ he's already back Mother- you better confess or this awkward atmosphere will engulf the two of you, Welcome back! Come join us, [Y/N]!!" The man putting all the supplies and groceries on the near table and then he slowly walked up to his Lady and Angie. Donna didn't utter a single word since she's too busy thinking that 'did her servant listen to everything she just sing?' She's really afraid to see [Y/N]'s expression right now.

"What are waiting for? Come, sit down next to Donna!" Angie invited the man and making him sit next to the head of the house Beneviento. And nope, no words are coming out of the Lady's mouth nor the servant's mouth.

Silence engulf the room, Angie roll her eyes as she cross her wooden arms, "Okay, quick question; [Y/N]!"

"Y-Yes..!?"

"Did you hear the song? The song that Donna just sing?" She question while tilting her head, The man hesitately nod his head and lower his head, "i'm sorry if that's.. Uncomfortable for you, Lady Beneviento." The servant apologize to his lady immediately, Donna sighs in relief, "No need to apologize, [Y/N]. Just-.. Don't tell the other lords that i-i.. I could sing, because it'll be embarassing.."

"Of course, i will never bring it up unless you want me to, my lady."

Once again, Silence engulf the three of them. Angie decide to break the boring silence, "Did you hear the i do adore part, [Y/N]?" She ask again - making Donna roll her eye behind her long black veil.

"Yes, Angie." he answered as he try to stay calm. "Then... What do you think about it?" He raised his eyebrows in confusion, "Pardon?" Angie giggles at this and then she bounced in her sit, "about Donna that she adore you silly!"

His face immediately turn red as tomato then he turned his attention away from the doll while clear his throat. "Well... It's an honor for me if lady Beneviento adore-" before he finish his sentence, Angie cut him off "in romantic way! Not platonic or something like that!" his eyes widened after hearing her statement.

"Angie!" Donna exclaimed at her precious doll, Angie just keep grinning to herself

"Well.. About that i-" he pause himself, not sure about to answer. Donna look at her servant in hopeful way, believing him that he would not leave her and Angie like the others did for years.

The man served Donna with respect, no yelling or protest from him, he always waited and remained patient to get other instructions from Donna, he also understood the problems Donna had experienced.

He is Kind, Understanding, Generous, Gentle and very Polite. How could Donna not fall in love with him- let alone the girls in the village?

Donna stayed silent; clearly not focus on her servant and her doll talking. Until Angie gently shake her shoulder, "Donna? Donna are you okay?" the woman glance at her doll behind her long black veil and nod her head, gesturing to continue.

Instead of talking, Angie immediately laughed and leave the room while giving the servant thumbs up. Donna is confused, why is she suddenly leave the room - especially alone with the man she adored so much?

Without wasting any time, [Y/N] got up from his seat and walk over to the lady then knelt down while gently grab her delicate hands. "Lady Beneviento i-.. Honestly, i adore you too. I adore you with all my heart. I don't care what the other say about this, i don't want to believe their words or the negative comments about you."

He can feel that Donna's hands are shaking when he keep holding it and tell her everything about how he felt towards her. "I-is it true? That you adore me too?" Donna ask her servant while trembling - then a smile that she loved so much is already on his face, "of course, i adore you so much. That's why, i would do anything for you and there will be question when you're going order me to do it." he answered while puffing his chest like a happy kiddo.

Donna chuckled then shook her head, slowly the chuckle turned into soft sobs. [Y/N] immediately gave her a comfortable and warm hug; waited until Donna calmed down.

"I-i'm sorry.. I just- i'm so happy right now.." The dollmaker tried to explain but cut off by her servant, "i understand, i'm also happy too when you adored me since...?" "since you take care of me when i'm sick." "ah yes, that one year ago. Wait, For that long!? Now i feel really bad for not notice this sooner."

Donna put her hand on his shoulder, "please, don't be. I understand that some feelings are blooming with a long time. Well, mine is already bloom in front of you.." [Y/N] chuckled at her then stare at the veil with curiousness. When Donna notice the stare he immediately avert his gaze to somewhere else and then slowly stood up. "I almost forgot that i have something for you, Lady Beneviento-". "Please, call me Donna, [Y/N]."

‘Donna? So Donna Beneviento is her full name? What a beautiful name for a percious yet fragile lady like her..’

He smiled at her and then nod his head, [Y/N] gp to the bag full of groceries he just buy and then he take a small white box from the bag. He look at Donna with full of admiration and Happiness then he showed her the gift. "For you, My lady."

Donna take the small white box and open it, she gasp when she saw a beautiful diamond ring that shine like the moonlight she loved so much. "This ring.. It's very beautiful, how much for a beautiful ring is this?" she ask while examining the ring with carefully.

[Y/N] shrugged at the question, "1000 lei - it's not that much-" "1000 lei?! [Y/N], this ring is very expensive and you-.. You buy it with your own money just to give it to.. A disgusting woman l-like me?"

[Y/N] frown at this and then shook his head, "why would you say something like that? I don't adore an ugly woman; because i believe that every women in this world are beautiful, especially you, My Lady." Donna keep silent as she fight for herself to not let a single tear fall again. Even though [Y/N] couldn't see it behind her veil.

There's silence for a moment, until [Y/N] ask her a permission that she will not let everyone touch it. "May i?" he ask while gestures to her veil, she is debating with her mind and her heart is beating uncontrolable. With that, she decide to let him - to show him her true face.

But before he take off her veil, Donna felt that his hand gave her a comfort squeeze and let her calm herself down again. Minutes has passed, Donna nod her so her servant can finally lift her veil.

And when he did, the massive growth of flesh that overtook the woman's right side of her face - completely replacing her right eye is what he sees. [Y/N]'s eyes widened at his lady's face -the horror and fear in Donna's eye- before she's rambling about negative things about herself, [Y/N] immediately shut her with a sudden hug again. Letting her tears flow on his chest. Donna hug him tight for her dear life.

[Y/N] whispers something to comfort her and rub her back gently, he even kiss her forehead - not carring about the massive flesh. He wiped her tears and then smile softly at her, his gaze making Donna's heart melt with joy. The way he look at her is his reply, he accept her. Everything about her.

‘and i still adore you so much.’

“Beautiful, My Beautiful Lady.” he whispers while cupping her pale cheek, and then when they are about to close the gap between the two of them - Angie barged in the room while screaming, "AAAAA DONNA SAVE ME FROM THOSE BEES!!" She jumped on her lap and hug her tightly as she buried her face on donna's neck.

[Y/N] snapped his fingers and the entrance was instantly closed before the bees entered the Beneviento estate. Their attention turn to [Y/N] who is smiling happily after shutting the door closed without touching it. "The bees won't harm you anymore-"

"YOU-.. YOU'RE A TELEKINESIS JUST LIKE THAT METAL HIMBO BRAIN ROT!?" Angie ask [Y/N] with eagerness as she sat on his lap instead of Donna's.

"I don't know who are you talking about but yes, i'm a telekinesis." [Y/N] answered while pat her head and still hold Donna's hand as if there was nothing happened after seeing her true face. "So... Did i ruined the moment?" Angie asks with her smug face, "well, a little bit." [Y/N] answer her, He can feel that Donna held his hand and give him a tiny squeeze.

"Ohoho~ alright alright! I won't bother you two and i'll close my eyes!" With that, she immediately closed her eyes with her wooden hands as she keep giggling.

Donna roll her eye and then she glance at her soon-to-be lover, [Y/N] grinned at her then take her veil off slowly that showing her black silky hair with a small bun behind it, he smiled at her and then cupped her pale cheek.

"When every little thing you do, i do adore."

Donna smiled shyly at him and close the gap between the two of them - to make it official about their feelings and their relationship.

"Now finally; i have my own father!"

"Angie- "

---

#resident evil village #resident evil 8 #donna beneviento #angie the doll #sleepyhead's #angie beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #lady beneviento #house beneviento #xreader #reader insert #Donna Beneviento x male reader

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

Text

But professor… - c.5

Summary: A few weeks have gone by. How are Penny and Walter doing?

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 5k

Warnings: Some sweet love making (sex, fingering, blowjob - yes, it’s sweet love making)

Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

Five weeks have gone by. It’s been five whole weeks since Walter and I kissed for the first time. My days are spend mostly in the library, sometimes in my own dorm or—and this is my favorite—with Walter in his loft. I love spending time in his loft, because there aren’t any loud students in the hallways, obviously intoxicated and think they’re funny by knocking at my door and telling me they’ll pee against it. It’s just him and me in his loft, together with some soft lofi music in the background as he continues to make food for me, totally spoil me with everything I want and basically help me with all my assignments.

I haven’t told anyone about us. As if there are people who—beside my parents—I could tell. How do you even bring it up? ‘Hi, my name is Penny and I kiss my criminology professor almost on a daily basis and I’m totally and utterly in love with him?

Nope, that is not gonna work.

There are many things I love about us spending time together. The attentive way he pays attention to everything I say. How he sits with me on the couch, helping me get through my assignments, but also to check out different cosmetology schools for me to maybe enroll. I still haven’t quite decided yet whether or not I want to do that.

I mean, I want to, but how do I sell this grand idea to my parents, who really want me to go to NYU and finish my major?

But maybe it’s the way he takes care of me that I love the most about it all. It sounds so codependent, I know, but there is no one who ever gave me attention like this, not even my parents. My parents didn’t understand my love for embroidery, for nail art and doing my hair. They didn’t understand I wanted a sewing machine for my sixteenth birthday, instead of a car.

No guy in my life went out of his way for me. No breakfast in bed, no asking permission whether or not he could touch me and no one who was willing to put up with all my anxious thoughts.

Walter on the other hand, he does it all. He understands my love for embroidery (he even allowed me to put some on his shirt), he lets me try out products on his hair and takes his sweet time with me.

Today, the long weekend starts, meaning we have time off from Friday till Tuesday. It’s Friday night when I’m finally back at my dorm. I open the door and when I want to lock it once I’m inside, it doesn’t seem to work.

That’s weird.

I might not have any knowledge when it comes to this, but I quickly come to the conclusion that it only works when I lock it from the outside, not the inside.

Great, it’s Friday night and the thought alone of me spending the night with a door that doesn’t lock, causes shivers down my spine. I grab my phone and call the only one I can think of.

‘Hi princess, what’s up?’ Walter asks as he answers the phone.

My heart shouldn’t skip a beat or two, but it does. It always does. ‘My lock isn’t working properly,’ I say, trying to lock my door again, but still nothing seems to happens. ‘It only locks and unlocks from the outside.’

‘Hm, we can’t call a locksmith right now,’ he says. ‘You’re not sleeping there tonight. Go pack your stuff, lock the door and then tomorrow we’ll call someone to check it out. I’d absolutely hate it if you were to stay there.’

I smile. ‘Okay.’

‘I’ll pick you up at the station. I’ll text you when I’m there and when you leave, share your location.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Just to make sure that I am not stepping in a car with a serial killer, I check once more if Walter really is in the truck. Through the droplets of water on my glasses I find it hard to focus, but seeing that smile, makes me realize I’ve got the right truck. I open the door and get in.

‘Hello,’ I say with a smile. ‘I’m so sorry that I look like a drowned kitten. New York weather isn’t too kind on me.’

‘Nonsense,’ he chuckles. ‘Drowned kitten or not, you look absolutely adorable. Now come here and give me a kiss.’ He leans into my direction and I meet him half way to press a long kiss on his lips. ‘You’re so beautiful, princess,’ he whispers against my lips, before he starts up the truck. As he drives off the vacant parking lot, he places his hand on my thigh.

‘It was quite hard to find the car,’ I admit. ‘In all my hastiness I forgot to put in my lenses and my glasses don’t come with wipers.’

He smiles. ‘I missed your glasses. They look so sweet on you.’

‘You think?’

‘Yes,’ he says without thinking. ‘Can’t believe your lock doesn’t work. What a shitty dorm you stay in.’

‘Kinda.’

I don’t know if he’s consciously doing or not, but his hand pushes up my dress. He places his hand a little above my knee. ‘Is this okay, princess?’

‘Yes,’ I say. Thankfully the truck allows me to scoot over a little and place my head on his shoulder. I wrap my arms around his thick one and let out a content sigh as I take in his cologne. ‘Thank you for picking me up,’ I whisper. ‘For protecting me.’

‘Oh, that’s only natural,’ he says.

When we’re at his apartment building, I finally am able to hold his hand as we walk up to the elevator. I hate this part of his apartment, since it’s partially underground and it’s really dark to get to the elevator. Walter holds my backpack in his other hand and squeezes my fingers. The second he closes the door of his loft, he carefully places my bag on the floor, before he helps me out of my coat.

‘Ah, princess, you’re cold.’

I don’t really care. I stand on my toes to give him a kiss, a long one. I’ve been yearning for his touch the entire day. We’re taking it slow—painfully slowly for that matter—but maybe it’s a good thing we do. Two weeks ago, he gave me a kiss, his hand sliding down from my lower back to my ass, which caused me to stiffen up completely. It’s ridiculous. I love it when he touches me, when he pulls me on his lap and he gives me intense kisses.

Yet I sometimes stiffen up completely.

My fingers push up his sweater and I touch his bare sides. He holds my face in his rough hands, softly caressing my cheeks. ‘Princess, wait a minute. As much as I want this, I don’t want to force you.’ He pushes some stray baby hairs out of my face. ‘You’re tense.’

‘I’m not tense,’ I tell him.

‘You kinda are, sweetheart.’

I let out a sigh. ‘Okay, maybe I am a little, but that is just because I’m nervous. I want this with you, Water. I trust you, it’s just that no one has ever seen me naked before.’

He nods, pecking my forehead. ‘We can just take a shower first,’ he suggests. ‘But only if you want. I need you to be honest with me.’

‘I want this with you,’ I whisper. ‘I really do. A shower sounds great.’

‘Allow me to show you the way.’

✎ ✎ ✎

The water is running and Walter’s already in the shower. I saw him naked and he is… Big, tall and broad in all sorts of ways to say the least. I mean, I’ve seen some porn and while I am aware that’s fake and unrealistic, I’m kinda confused now.

Walter comes so close to it, what if it isn’t fake?

I take off my vest, before I shred myself from my other pieces of clothing. I watch as my lacy pink underwear drops to the floor and I take a deep breath.

I want this, no need to be nervous. It’s just Walter. He told me I’m beautiful many many times, that won’t change when he sees me like this, right? He saw me in my underwear once, that time I changed into his shirt right before we went bed. I remember him smirking, whispering I was so damn gorgeous and that if I wanted, I should just sleep next to him like this.

I open the shower curtain, causing Walter to turn around and he smiles widely when his eyes land on me. He holds out his hand, so he can help me in the cubicle. My eyes dart around, anywhere but to him.

‘If you don’t want to do this,’ he whispers, ‘just tell me.’ He places his hands on my upper arms and adds: ‘Princess, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Really, we can take as much time as you want.’

‘I want this,’ I whisper. ‘Really, I do.’

He nods. ‘I think,’ he says, ‘you are absolutely breathtaking. There is no one out there who can compete with you.’

‘Thank you,’ I say in a soft tone, finally looking into his eyes. ‘You’re handsome.’

He buffs out his hairy chest and I place my hands on it as I let out a nervous chuckle. ‘I want you to breath, Penny.’

‘I am breathing.’

‘No,’ he chuckles, ‘you’re holding your breath. There is absolutely no need to be nervous. It’s just me.’

‘It’s not just you,’ I say. ‘You’re my professor, my boyfriend.’

He nods. ‘Don’t you worry about that, you already got your straight A,’ he jokes.

I wrap my arms around his waist and I hide my face in his chest. ‘You know, I’ve been thinking about going to cosmetology school, so your grade doesn’t really matter anyway.’

‘How are you gonna tell your parents?’

‘I don’t know,’ I whisper. ‘You helped me with figuring out who I am, I bet you’ll help me with this as well. Besides, if I do cosmetology school, I can start in February.’

‘You’re gonna finish your semester here?’

I shrug. ‘I don’t know. I’m not sure yet.’

‘Well, whatever you do, know that I’m proud of you. And when you leave your dorm, you can stay here for the time being. Is better for my heart anyways, I don’t like you staying in those sleazy dorms.’

I can’t help but smile. ‘You’re too sweet.’ I place my chin on his chest and he leans down to give me a peck on my lips. His kisses continue to be soft, causing goosebumps to appear on my entire skin. His touches are light, his hands squeezing in the soft flesh of my hips. ‘The second you feel uncomfortable,’ he says again, ‘you tell me. I don’t want to hurt you.’

‘I know, Walter.’ I hold his face in between my hands, pulling him in for another kiss. The warm stream of water massages my back, as Walter pulls me closer to him. I softly gasp for air as my chest is firmly pressed against his. His lips descend from my mouth to my nape and I’m pretty sure he is leaving marks.

‘Does that feel good, princess?’

‘It does,’ I whimper, as a buzzing warmth starts to form between my legs.

His hands slide up from my hips to my waist and they stay underneath my breasts, his thumbs slightly touching them. ‘Can I?’

I nod. ‘Please, please, yes.’

‘We’re already getting a little needy?’ he chuckles, as his hands cup my breasts. His thumbs toy with my stiffened nipples and I squeal of the unfamiliar sensation. ‘That’s my girl,’ he says with a smile, before giving me a long kiss on my lips. ‘You have no idea how lucky I am.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Walter has carried me to his bed, not caring to dry off either of our bodies. I could sense it in the shower, him becoming more and more desperate. His hands kneading into my flesh, his kisses growing rougher and him pushing my back against the cold shower wall, left him with a satisfied grin as I finally made a little bit of sound.

He has spread my legs, kissing the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. He wraps his strong arms around my hips, his broad shoulders preventing me from closing my legs together. ‘Can you relax for me?’ he asks me, his hot breath against my throbbing slit.

‘I’m very relaxed,’ I say in a hoarse tone.

‘Unclench those fists for me then,’ he says and only then I realize my hands are balled into fists. ‘I want you to enjoy it, okay?’

‘Okay,’ I whisper. ‘What do I do with my hands?’

He smiles. ‘Run them through my hair,’ he says. ‘Can you do that for me?’

I nod, reaching down with my hands to grab some of his soft hair. ‘I don’t look hideous?’

Walter places his head against my inner thigh, looking up with nearly a pained expression. ‘Princess, why would you say that?’

I shrug. ‘Just a question.’

‘You’re beautiful, every part of you.’ He lets his tongue slide through my slit, before he wraps his lips around my clit. My back arches off the mattress and when the vibrations of his groans hit my sensitive bud, I let out a moan. Faster than my own shadow, I place a hand over my mouth, hoping to muffle out those sounds.

‘No, princess,’ he says, looking up. ‘Don’t do that. I want to hear those pretty sounds.’

It’s hard to let go. It’s hard to make sounds, to let him know how he makes me feel. ‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper. ‘I can’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘I… I don’t know.’

‘You’re doing great, sweetheart. Nothing to be embarrassed about.’ He gives my thighs a reassuring squeeze, before he dives back in, this time hungrier than before. I can’t help but clench my thighs together, nearly crushing his head between them. I pull his hair, as his tongue draws circles around my clit.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, I think to myself. This feels so foreign, so—

A sob leaves my lips, interrupting my thoughts as my toes start to curl. My hips buck up and an unfamiliar feeling washes over me. This tension I had stored in my entire body, nearly slips out of my body, as I shake on the bed. Tears run over my cheeks and I hide my face in my hands. ‘Stop, please, stop,’ I whimper.

I can’t see what Walter’s doing, but I feel the bed dip beside me. ‘Princess,’ he whispers to me, his arm wrapping around my waist, ‘you did so well for me.’

I press my legs together, as I catch my breath. ‘Walter, it’s sensitive.’

Walter pushes some strands of my hair back, before peeling my hands from my face. ‘It usually is. I almost think you never masturbated before.’

My cheeks burn up and I hate that he can see it. ‘I have, but… Never orgasmed before.’

He gives me a kiss and says: ‘I see, I see. How did it feel?’

‘It felt good,’ I whisper, before I clear my throat.

Walter must sense my insecurities, because his tone is soft when he says: ‘I’m proud of you.’ He does all the right things for me to relax. His fingertips draw figures on my skin, he kisses the left over tears away and whispers sweet little nothings in my ear, almost as if he wants to sooth me. ‘Do you want to continue?’

‘I do, I do,’ I quickly say.

Walter moistens his fingers between his lips, before he reaches down. My hips involuntarily buck up as they brush passed my sensitive clit, earning myself a low chuckle from Walter. As he gently pushes in one finger as he lays beside me, I wrap my arm around his shoulders. ‘Kiss me,’ I whisper.

He obliges without letting a second, slamming his plump lips on mine. I melt against him, his warmth radiating against my body. He pushes in another finger, slowly stretching me out as I whimper against his lips.

‘You’re doing great, sweetheart,’ he tells me, when he feels my digits wrapped around his thick wrist. ‘You feel so good around my fingers.’

I don’t even think about it, but the words: ‘I need you,’ leave my lips before I know it.

‘You do now?’

Oh, we’re getting cocky?

He pumps in his fingers, in a slow pace. ‘Good thing I need you too.’ His thumb brushes against my clit and when I clench around his fingers and I feel that same feeling bubbling up deep inside me, he stops. Pulls out his fingers and I let out a whine. ‘Want me to use a condom, darling?’

I nod. I might be inexperienced, but I am not that daft to risk a pregnancy. Especially since I’m not on the pill. He grabs one from the bedside table, rolls it on and sits in between my legs.

I don’t want to say it, but I worry. He is big and I have no idea if it’s gonna fit. What if it hurts? Oh no, what if I’m one of those women that start bleeding during her first time? Leave it up to me to bleed a gallon and having to go to the emergency room.

‘Okay, you need to get out of your head,’ he says, as he teases his tip near my aching entrance. ‘Don’t you worry a thing, okay?’

‘I’ll try, Walter,’ I say in a shaky tone. ‘What if it hurts?’

‘Then you tell me,’ he says, squeezing my leg. ‘Princess, it would help if you stopped worrying.’

‘I’m trying,’ I say. ‘I really am.’ This is not the time to cry, Penny. Don’t you dare—

It’s too late. A hot tear rolls over my cheek, followed by many more and Walter quickly pulls me up. I sit on his thick legs, his arms wrapped tightly around me. ‘We can stop, Penny,’ he says. ‘We really can.’

I shake my head. ‘I don’t want to,’ I whisper. ‘I’m just afraid it’ll hurt.’

He nods. ‘We’ll take it slow, okay? We have the entire night. Heck, we have the entire weekend.’

‘But I want to do it now,’ I say. In a softer tone I add: ‘I want you, Walter. I need you.’

He gently places me on my back again, nearly suffocating me with kisses, causing me to laugh. With his lips locked on mine, he pushes in his tip. I dig my nails in his strong back. ‘Feels good?’

‘It does,’ I groan. ‘More, I can handle it.’

He slowly sinks in, my walls wrapping closely and tightly around him. Walter lets out a growl like sound, stilling his motions. ‘My girl,’ he chuckles, ‘I’m so proud of you. Taking me in like it’s nothing.’

‘You’re proud of me? Really?’ I ask.

‘I wouldn’t lie to you, princess.’ He allows me to stretch around him. He pats my thigh a few times, before giving it a squeeze. Walter checks one more time if I’m ready and when I nod, he pulls out, before carefully sliding back in.

The thrusts are soft. His bed slightly creaks every time he buries himself back into me. The room is filled with his grunts and loving words and with my hoarse gasps. I wipe away my tears with the back of my hand, as I take in this unknown, but pleasurable feeling.

‘Faster,’ I whisper. ‘Please.’

‘You sure?’

‘Mhm.’

Not only do the thrusts grow faster, but slightly harder as well and those soft gasps of mine, quickly turn into something louder. A thin layer of sweat on both of our bodies. My legs wrapped tightly around his hips.

I flutter around his hard member, causing him to smile. ‘I can already feel it again, sweetheart,’ he says. ‘You’re close?’

A nod is all I can muster.

My toes curl, my breathing stops and the wave of euphoria washes over me. Tears drip over my face and I whimper: ‘Stop, stop, stop.’

He listens instantly and as the shocks run through my body, the aftermath of my second orgasm, he stills inside of me. ‘Too sensitive?’

‘I’m sorry, but yes.’

‘Don’t be sorry, don’t be,’ he tells me. ‘You did amazing, princess. Want me to pull out?’

I simply nod and I softly sniffle as he does. He’s still hard as a rock and he peels off the condom, throwing it in the bin. I push myself up and give him a kiss. ‘What about you?’

‘It’s okay, sweetheart.’

‘No, I… I can help,’ I awkwardly suggest. ‘I mean, I never done that before and I have no idea how to, but I think I can do it.’

‘You don’t have to.’

‘But I want to.’

He smiles. ‘Well, I can’t compete with that.’ He scoots over to the edge of the bed, gentle pulling me with him. ‘Go sit right there, sweetheart.’ I kneel on the carpet in between his legs and I take a deep breath. He holds my hand, guiding it to his hard member. I wrap my fingers around it, the tips not even touching. He leads the way as to how I need to move my hand. ‘You can squeeze a bit,’ he tells me.

I moisten my lips. ‘Can I?’

He nods. ‘Careful with your teeth,’ he says. ‘And don’t force it, princess.’

I open my mouth and let my tongue circle around his tip, before I wrap my lips around it. It earns me a low and sultry moan, and I look up. ‘Is it okay?’ I ask.

‘It’s perfect.’

As I slowly pump him without any guidance of Walter, I slowly try to get more and more of him inside my mouth. I don’t want my first ever blowjob experience to end with vomit, so I’m not forcing myself in a pornographic kind of way, where I nuzzle my nose into his pubes.

I mean, that would probably be impossible for me anyway.

Walter runs his fingers through my hair, slowly guiding me into bopping up and down. When I hollow my cheeks, the grip on my hair turns a bit harsher. ‘Shit, princess, you sure it’s your first time?’

I softly moan around him and he pulls back my head. With some drool dripping over my chin, I continue to pump him. His grunts fill the room, as warm spurts of cum land on my chest. The tight muscles in his entire body tense up, his hips bucking up to meet my hand. His jaw clenched, muffled groans.

That might’ve been the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

Completely enthralled in Walter, I barely notice that his cum has both painted my chest, but also the lower part of my face. ‘I was not planning on this,’ he chuckles, wiping my chin clean with his thumb. He pushes it passed my lips and I taste the saltiness of his cum on my tongue.

‘Was it good?’ I ask him.

‘It sure was, darling.’ He stands up and pulls me back on my feet. ‘But we do need another shower now.’

✎ ✎ ✎

After a warm shower, we’re securely tucked underneath the blankets. I nuzzle against his naked frame with mine and he holds me tightly against him. ‘Penny,’ he says in a low tone, ‘I am falling in love with you.’

I smile, my heart warming at his lovely confession. ‘I’m falling for you too,’ I say, ‘like head over heels in love with you.’

His grip on me tightens a bit. ‘You know, in a few weeks, we have Christmas break,’ he says. ‘You’ve got any plans?’

‘Originally I wanted to go back to Maryland,’ I say, ‘but my parents probably want me to enjoy the college experience and kinda force me to have fun with friends.’ I let out a soft laugh. ‘As if I have any friends.’

He scoffs. ‘You’ll get the friends you deserve when the time is right, princess. But, just so we’re clear: you and I can spend a lot of time together during Christmas?’

I lean on my elbow so I can look at him again. ‘Of course. What did you have in mind?’

‘A little trip,’ he says. ‘Outside of New York, so we can stop sneaking around for a bit. Where do you want to go?’

‘I don’t mind,’ I say, ‘as long as I’m with— Oh, we could go to Las Vegas.’

He smiles. ‘You want to spend Christmas in Las Vegas?’ he asks.

I tilt my head, all of the sudden not so sure anymore about my Las Vegas idea. ‘Maybe Hawaii then?’

Am I hallucinating or did it just seem like Walter’s eyes turned into little hearts? ‘You’ve got quite the expensive taste, princess.’

Instantly I feel bad. He is obviously gonna pay for a lot of it, since I barely have any money. ‘Oh, sorry. You pick something, something less expensive. I don’t mind where we’re going.’

‘No, no, no,’ he says, ‘Hawaii could actually be it. Want to be surprised or want in on the planning?’

‘Surprised,’ I tell him. ‘Oh my goodness, Walter, this is so exciting. I can’t wait to spend all my time with you.’ I lean in to give him a kiss and he smiles against my lips. ‘I love you,’ I whisper, when he lets me go.

‘You do?’ A cocky grin forms on his lips and he says: ‘I love you more.’ He peppers me with kisses, tickles my sides and my squeals fill the room. ‘I love you so fucking much, I’m never gonna let anything happen to you, okay? You know that right?’

I bite my lip. ‘Of course I know that,’ I whisper, pushing back some of his hair. ‘I’ll forever know it.’

✎ ✎ ✎

The next morning, I see Walter standing in the kitchen, his back turned towards me. I sneak over to him, but he wouldn’t be the detective he is if he didn’t notice me already. ‘Princess, I can hear you.’

I instantly stop tiptoeing. ‘I know,’ I laugh, ‘but it was worth the shot. You’re such a good detective.’

He chuckles, before lifting me up, placing me on the clean counter. He leans over to peck my lips. ‘How are you feeling?’

I nod. ‘I’m good, just… A little sore.’

Walter seems oddly proud of himself. ‘Oh, really?’

‘Yeah, my jaw too.’

He dumps the wooden spatula in the pan, turns the stove down low, before he stands in between my legs, wrapping his arms around my waist. ‘Well, princess, you did great last night. I’m so proud of you.’

‘You liked it?’ I ask, still a little unsure of how I performed last night. I mean, I never done it before and Walter probably had plenty of sex, because hello, have you seen that man? The fact that he wasn’t taken before we met is a miracle to me.

Walter buries his face in my neck, pressing sloppy kisses on my delicate skin as his beard is probably leaving some red marks, but I don’t care. ‘What do you think, princess?’ he asks. ‘Of course I liked it. Heck, I loved it. I love you, Penelope Townsend. I love you and only you. There is no need for you to be insecure.’ The sloppy kisses have moved to my lips, Walter’s parted lips against mine, his tongue exploring mine.

I arch my back, leaning into his touch, but something burns in my heart. Insecurities, that voice that tells me I’m not good enough for him and that last night was terrible. Before I can even stop it, warm tears roll over my face. ‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper, my voice breaking mid sentence. ‘I don’t know why.’

Walter softly shushes me, whispering it’s okay. ‘It was a lot,’ he says, ‘quite the experience.’ He kisses my tears away and says: ‘Princess, it’s alright, no need to cry, okay?’

‘I’m totally overreacting,’ I hiccup.

‘No, you’re not,’ he retorts. When he sees it’s not working, he pulls my head to his chest, pressing kisses on my hair, before he wraps his arms around my body. ‘How about breakfast first and then a hot shower?’ he suggests.

‘A shower with you?’

‘If you want,’ he says.

I nod. ‘Sounds good to me.’

✎ ✎ ✎

As we’re standing underneath the warm streams of water, Walter massages my scalp as he washes my hair, lathers my body with soap and fantasizes about our future trip together. ‘I can’t wait for you and I to be together for an unlimited amount of time.’

I smile, thinking about the idea of waking up to him, eating breakfast, lunch and dinner with him and walking around, holding his hand. ‘Me neither.’

Slowly but surely, the insane insecurities are something of the past, however I still know that if I think about it too long, my hands start to shake and I overthink it all. Before that can actually happen, Walter makes sure to distract me with kisses, with touches and telling me silly things he wants to do when he and I get to Hawaii.

‘We’re really going to Hawaii?’

‘Of course,’ he says, turning me around so I can look at him. ‘Because Hawaii is a perfect place for us to spend Christmas.’

‘What do I need to wear?’ I ask. ‘I don’t know how warm it is there.’

‘Let’s start with a bathing suit,’ Walter cheekily says, causing me to roll my eyes. ‘Just some light outfits,’ he whispers. ‘Honestly, princess, you look beautiful no matter what you wear.’

‘Is it expensive?’ I ask. ‘A trip to Hawaii.’

‘Don’t you worry your pretty little head over that, I’ve got it covered.’

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill fanfic #walter marshall #walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall x oc #walter marshall x asian ofc #walter marshall x penny townsend #asian ofc #penny townsend #but professor

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littlepadika · 3 years

Note

well what you did with it was so amazing :’) my other thought for one day if you ever want to write for him again would be like, the same innocent reader/legal age gap vibe looking after him after an awful experience at work or getting in a fight or something. that could be cute (/will be cute because it’s you writing it)! but only when/if you ever have time/want to ☺️ - 🎀

Thank you 🎀anon... here's a little piece of reader patching Stevie up. I left it open at the end for your imagination ;)

Warnings: fem reader, fingering kinda, innocence!kink

You were getting antsy. Steve was still not back even though he promised he'd come by for dinner. It was your one night off for the week and you were hoping to finally make your move and confess your feelings.

"Where is he, Angelita?" You looked down at the pup who was begging at your feet. "Here. One of us might as well enjoy it." You tossed down a piece of the chicken you made.

After a while you decided to go investigate. Maybe he forgot you made plans? You tried not to let your mind go to the worst possible outcome: That Steve was gravely injured or worse killed. Steve went to great lengths to avoid talking about work with you, because he didn't want you to become a target. He didn't want you to worry more than you already did. You knew he worked for the DEA. You knew he was hunting Escobar. That was enough for you to know he was in constant danger.

"Steve?" You rapped on his door. "Steve? It's me."

"Shit." You heard him curse on the other side. "One second!"

A moment later the door opened and your jaw dropped at the sight before you. He had blood coming from his left shoulder. A bullet wound by the looks of it. The red soaked the white shirt he was in.

"Sorry. Eat without me. I'll be down in a minute." He winced, holding his arm.

"Jesus, Steve!" You clapped your hand over your mouth "You're bleeding. We need to get you to a hospital."

"No!" He said loudly "Can you come in..." He beckoned you inside. Once the door was closed he continued talking. "I can't go to the hospital because the Narcos have contacts in there. They'll get my information, where I live.”

“But Steve you’re losing a lot blood!” You couldn't pull you eyes from his bleeding shoulder. The nurse in you was ready to jump into action.

“I got the bullet out I just can’t get it to stop."

"Steve-" You reach out laying your fingers over the wound.

"No hospital." He repeated. You looked up at him and you knew he wouldn't budge on this.

“I can sew it up. My kit is downstairs."

You sit Steve down under your bright kitchen light and remove his blood-soaked shirt. Angelita was standing nearby watching anxiously. He was remarkably quiet while you worked. You managed to get the skin closed and cleaned. You tried not to imagine the events that landed him here. How close the bullet was to hitting his heart. You rinsed the area off with some whiskey hoping the alcohol content was high enough to be sterile.

You chew your bottom lip. You could see fear in his blue eyes.

"What happened, Steve-"

"Don't." Steve clutches your waist before you can finish. "You can't ask me that. I can't put you in more danger."

"Fine." You let it go, sitting down in his lap. You took a shaking breath finally letting the adrenaline leave your body. "I just- I don't know what I would do if I lost you." You felt your voice catch. You were crying. You couldn't help it. "I know we aren't- we aren't anything but I want-"

"Aren't anything?" He chuckled when you looked down blushing. "Baby girl..." Your eyes widened at the name. "Baby girl you are everything to me."

You hugged him. You couldn't help it when he was being so sweet. "You can tell me you know... I can handle it. I don't want you keeping it all inside." You kissed the side of his neck, inhaling his comforting scent.

"Thank you baby girl. You take such good care of me." Steve closed his eyes, knowing one day he would have tell you everything. But not today. Right now he just wanted to hold onto you. "Baby..." He pulled you back in front of him, cupping your cheek. "Can I take care of you now?"

"But your arm-"

"It's fine. I'm safe. With you."

"What if-"

"Shhh" He slid his lips over yours. He teased the seam of your mouth with his tongue, slowly gaining entrance. You moaned when his tongue slid against yours, hot and insistent. His mustache tickled your upper lip as he pressed his face into yours. He pulled your dress up, sliding his hand down to your underwear. You squirmed at the sensation.

"Have you touched yourself?"

"A little." You admitted in a soft voice.

"Has anyone touched you here, babygirl?" He massaged your clit through the fabric making your eyes flutter closed.

"N-no. I'm a virgin." You replied, looking down shyly. Steve sucked in a sharp breath, his cock twitching at the thought of being your first.

"There's nothing wrong with that." He reassured you, making you smile at him hopefully. He couldn't believe someone as beautiful as you was still innocent and choosing to be with him. "You want me to stop?"

"No please. It feels good, Stevie-" You gasped as he pulled your panties to the side, touching your bare pussy which was slick with want. "Don't stop."

He lifted you with ease though he only had full strength in one arm. he shut the door to the bedroom so Angelita wouldn't interrupt and then laid you out on the bed. He pulled your skirt back up like before. Your panties were still shoved to the side. You blushed hard as he looked down at you. You wanted to cover yourself but he held your hands away.

"You're beautiful...Spread your legs for me. Good girl. I'm gonna take such good care of this innocent little pussy- well... it won't be so innocent when I'm done with it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My masterlist

#🎀anon #steve murphy #steve murphy x reader #steve murphy x you #steve murphy fanfiction #narcos #narcos fanfiction #ask padika

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kiki-shortsnout · 3 years

Note

Do you angsty Loki/Tony/Stephen HC? Like during and after battle?

‘On a scale of one to ten, where is he?’

‘In terms of being angry? Oh, he’s definitely in the triple digits,’ Stephen answered, lifting Tony’s chin so he could see the gash on his forehead better.

Tony clenched his hands on the bathtub, hearing his fingertips squeak on the plastic as he gripped it, throbbing shards of agony streaking up his arm.

‘Hey, don’t do that,’ Stephen whispered in a low voice, reaching out to clasp Tony’s wrist. He tugged gently until Tony relinquished his grip, settling the hand into Tony’s lap, careful not to aggravate the bruised, damaged fingers.

Tony bounced his feet on the floor, curling his toes on the bathroom mat, focusing his gaze on it as if that could somehow settle his frantic thoughts. ‘It wasn’t me being stupid,’ he seethed, the venom coated words seeping out from his clenched teeth.

Stephen chose not to answer, the intricate lattice of his mandalas appearing around his wrists. He gestured down to the sterile needle and thread he’d left on a tray beside the bathtub, the inanimate objects floating into the air towards Stephen’s hands.

‘Where are you on the scale?’ Tony asked, trying to blink away the blood dripping into his eye as he watched Stephen thread the needle, his hands unusually steady from the help of his magic.

‘Double digits,’ Stephen’s voice was curt as he lifted the needle up to Tony’s face. Some of the furious anger making the muscles tight in his face bled out as Tony flinched. Grinding his teeth together, he tried to hold himself still as he fought against the panic creeping up on him, desperate not to make Stephen angrier than he was.

His gaze focused on the Cloak floating beside the bathroom cabinet, ready to pass Stephen anything else he needed. He hated this, hated that both his lovers were furious with him, that the happy memories of the time spent in the Sanctum bathroom were now becoming tainted with his bad decision. This was a place where he shared early morning showers with them both, indulging in soapy giggling as they washed each other, steam fogging the glass from their intimate times. Even this tub he was sat on served as a treasured memory, a place for hot baths and whispering affections, lingering hugs after battles, reassurance as the warm water soothed the aches and pains away.

‘Why not get magic to sew me up?’ Tony asked, chuckling to try and break the tension, wincing at the pain in his ribs.

‘Because my hands are more precise,’ Stephen muttered, distracted.

He knew better than this, he really did. Pepper had chewed him out enough over the years about it. It had been one of the pivotal reasons they’d ended their relationship years ago, her citing his reckless behavior, his no sense of self-preservation. Even Rhodey had spent countless hours over the years screaming at him about it. Tony couldn’t help it, there was something ingrained in him after all his years of being Iron Man.

In the heat of battle his entire world had condensed down to one thing.

Loki.

His lover had been distracted, not seeing the blast of energy hurtling towards his back. Tony had. He had seen Loki’s broad, defenseless back, had already seen the civilians who had succumbed to the villain’s weapon, people they couldn’t bring back. In that split second, Tony had seen someone he cared about, someone he loved in danger.

And he had acted.

‘You really should go to the hospital for all of this,’ Stephen said, finishing his stitches. He stood up and took a step back to examine his handy work.

‘No! No-’

‘I know, no hospitals,’ Stephen appeased, seeing the grip terror had upon Tony at the mere mention of the word. He hated hospitals, needles, he was only just tolerating Stephen’s care because he trusted the man.

Trust Tony had probably shattered with his impulsive decision.

‘Let’s take a look at the rest of you, arms up please,’ Stephen ordered, tugging at the edge of Tony’s t-shirt.

Without thinking about it, he did as he was told, anxious to at least have one of them not mad at him. He was able to bite back the scream of pain as he lifted his arms, but his grasp over his body wasn’t as strong, his vision blurring around the edges as he pitched forward. Stephen leapt into action to catch him, and the panicked yelp of his name allowed Tony to shove aside the unconsciousness threatening, concentrating on the here and now.

Keep it together.

‘Are you alright? Sorry, I’m still in doctor mode…I forgot I can…just stay still, I’ve got you,’ Stephen whispered. Tony felt a ripple of magic and then his t-shirt was gone, cold waves of air licking at his skin. Stephen’s touch was gentle as he probed the enormous blackening bruises on Tony’s side, but he couldn’t help the wounded yelp escaping as Stephen brushed against something painful, the noise amplified by the bathroom walls.

They both heard something crash to the floor outside, and Tony saw a flash of green magic illuminate the space under the bathroom door before footsteps stomped away.

‘None of your ribs are broken, or fractured, but it’s going to be very painful for the next few days. I’ve got something that can help ease the pain,’ Stephen murmured, his eyes narrowing as he examined Tony’s fingers.

Despite trusting Stephen, he flinched away, holding his arm close to his body, afraid to let Stephen near it. He’d had so many injuries to his left hand over the years that it was now sensitive, a vulnerable part of himself that he didn’t like others touching.

‘Tony, sweetheart, it’s alright, you can trust me. Let me see it, please,’ Stephen begged, and Tony couldn’t work out why he was upset, why he had anything to be upset about.

Am I going to lose them over this?

Pepper had already ended their relationship with him because of this, and he hadn’t learnt, couldn’t control his impulses. If anything, he cared about these two stubborn assholes more, couldn’t bear to think about them leaving because of the same reason.

I’m sorry.

‘No breaks here either, a torn ligament possibly and a few stretched tendons, I’ll wrap it up later, don’t use it for a few days.’

Stephen stretched his hand out to the Cloak, taking the adhesive gauze pad it was holding. He gave Tony another once over before bending down on his knees, brushing back Tony’s bangs so he could apply the pad, sealing the wound.

He caught Stephen’s wrists as his lover went to move away, clutching them as hard as he could, even as his fingers pulsated with pain.

‘I’m sorry,’ Tony blurted, closing his eyes against his angry tears. ‘I saw he was in danger and I…I just-’

‘Look at me, Tony.’ Stephen brought his hands to Tony’s face, encouraging his damaged hand back down. ‘For a split second there, I thought I’d lost you,’ Stephen murmured, hand cradling Tony’s jaw, the tremor back in his grip now his magic was gone. ‘You were just lying on the ground, not moving. We heard your body hit the floor, heard the…’ Stephen couldn’t finish his sentence, closing his eyes as he swallowed thickly.

He surged forward, seizing Tony in a hug, cradling the back of his head as he held him close to his body, quivering with his pent up fear, his anger at Tony, his relief.

‘Jesus, Tony. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life.’

‘I’m sorry, I just…I saw him and-’

‘I know, sweetheart, I know. I would’ve done the same, for either of you,’ Stephen swore, stretching back so he could rest their foreheads together, inhaling shakily. ‘I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.’

‘Me neither, but I know I’d always do everything in my power to save you both, even if that means flinging myself in front of some intergalactic laser beam from some wannabe villain,’ Tony joked, his own tears falling as he saw tears squeeze out from Stephen’s clenched eyelids.

They clutched each other, reassuring themselves that the other was alive and well, that despite Tony’s damaged and bruised state, they were both alive to fight another day.

‘Go talk to him. I can hear him pacing from here,’ Stephen murmured, leaning down to peck Tony’s lips with his own, careful of his split lip.

‘Alright.’ Tony got off the edge of the bathtub as he took a deep breath. He knew he had to face Loki, had to say sorry somehow, but suddenly the bathroom floor was looking like a great place to sleep on.

‘Tony?’ Stephen’s voice sounded like it was far away, and Tony tried to reach out for him, his arms feeling like they were wading through treacle. ‘Hold on, I’m going to put you in bed-’

‘No! I’ll never hear the end of it if he thinks I’m bedridden. Let me explain to him I’m fine and then we can go from there.’ Tony gritted his teeth as he hobbled out of the bathroom. He could do this, he’d defended the Earth against all sorts of threats, had been stabbed by Thanos and still managed to stand, he could make it to Loki.

The Sanctum hallway wavered for a moment, splashes of ruby from the rugs blurring together with the dark wood into a dizzying kaleidoscope of color and pain that Tony was victim to. A hand on his back centered him, forcing the world to stop spinning.

‘I thought I had to talk to Loki, alone?’ Tony questioned.

‘And last time I checked I was with you both? I might be mad at you too, but I’m not going to let you struggle all the way there,’ Stephen promised him.

Loki was pacing beside the oddly shaped window of the Sanctum, his arms clasped behind his back, his expression unreadable as he stamped.

‘Actually, the funhouse corridor is looking like a better option,’ Tony whispered, taking a step back into Stephen’s body.

‘I’m glad to see that you are in fact alive, despite my earlier conclusion,’ Loki snapped, coming to a standstill, his back to Tony.

‘Loki…I’m-’

‘Sorry? Sorry for putting yourself in danger? For not trusting me to watch myself in battle?

For making me think I’d lost you!’ Loki shouted, whirling on his heel and glaring at Tony. He could see blood staining Loki’s leather, knew it was his, could remember the terror on Loki’s face as he carried him away from battle, the way he frantically called his name.

Anthony! Please, Norns! I cannot…Stephen! Help me!

The words ricocheted around in his mind, Loki’s despair, his overwhelming fear of a few hours ago still potent in his memory. He met Loki’s gaze and any humor, any of his usual cocky brashness evaporated under the sheer fury radiating from Loki’s posture.

‘It was foolish of me to put my trust in you,’ Loki spat, his hands tightened into fists at his side, furious streaks of red straining his pale cheekbones.

Despite his shame, the pain coursing through his body like glass shards pumping through his veins, Tony took a challenging step forward, holding his ground even when he couldn’t quite see Loki clearly.

‘What did you want me to do? Stand there and let it happen?’

‘I expected you to trust me!’ Loki hissed.

‘And I do trust you! But in that moment, all I could see was that you were in danger! Someone I loved was in danger and I acted. I’m not sorry Loki, I’d do it again, a thousand times over if it would keep you safe!’

Loki’s frustration exploded from him in a blast of green energy. It washed over Tony and Stephen leaving them unaffected, but the glass cases of the artifacts shattered, flinging glass on the floor.

‘I did not ask you to sacrifice yourself like that for me. How do you think that would make me feel, how it would make Stephen feel if we lost you in such a way, you infuriating mortal!’

Tony tried to take another step forward, his brain trying to come up with a counterargument even as the world was pitching sideways, nausea scrabbling up his throat. It was all too much, the pain, the implications, and while he never backed away from a fight, Tony found that he couldn’t do it anymore.

‘Listen, I know you want to shout at me some more, hell you can punch me later if you want, and I know you’re trying to teach me a lesson right now, but could you please heal me? Can’t you take your anger out on me some other way?’ Tony begged as he crashed to one knee, sweat dripping off his body as he fell forward onto his uninjured hand.

‘What happened? I thought you said you could heal him! I knew I should’ve taken him to the healers at New Asgard!’ Loki shouted, suddenly beside Tony. He was rolled over onto his back, both of them looming over him with pale, waxen faces.

‘He needs rest Loki, he’s exhausted.’

‘Then why is he not in a bed!’ Loki demanded.

‘Because I’m sorry,’ Tony croaked, trying to rub his head against Loki’s leg, his limbs trembling as his body began to succumb to his exhaustion. Stephen lifted him, handing him over to Loki as he went to talk to the Cloak, barking instructions at it. Drained of any sort of fight, Tony went lax in the arms holding him, the jostling of Loki’s chest against his as he walked creating enough pain to keep him conscious, and he was ashamed of the guttural whine that escaped his mouth.

‘Put him down carefully and don’t aggravate him any further. You can shout at him later,’ Stephen instructed Loki, ready to chase the Asgardian out if he needed to.

Tony just wanted to sleep, wanted to burrow down into Stephen’s mattress and blankets and pass out, just so he could escape the pain and their wrath for a few hours. Cracking open his eye, he watched Stephen shut the blinds to his room, searching through his draws for something.

Loki made an intricate gesture with his fingers, and a ceramic pot fell out of thin air and into his palm. Opening the lid, a pungent smell pierced the air, a woodsy mint tang, almost like eucalyptus. Tony sucked in a sharp inhale through his teeth as Loki smeared the white salve over his ribs, his gaze flicking up in a tormented expression as Tony struggled to hold himself still.

‘You really thought… Anthony…you really believe I would punish you in such a way, that I would not heal you if I were able?’ Loki asked, fingers feather-light over his skin.

‘You’re really mad at me,’ Tony gasped, tossing his head back against the pillow at the flash of heat settling into his skin.

‘Loki’s magic doesn’t work in that way, he’s not a healer,’ Stephen explained, carefully settling on the bed on Tony’s other side, running his fingers through Tony’s hair.

‘No matter my anger, I would not punish you in such a way. Do you not think it pains me to see you like this, to know I did not do enough to prevent it, to be reminded of just how fragile you are!’ Loki angrily muttered. ‘Give me your hand.’

Just as he had with Stephen, Tony initially refused, wrapping his free arm around his elbow, hiding his hand away from them both.

‘Anthony…’ Loki gasped.

‘Loki, sweetheart, Tony’s had a lot of serious injuries to that hand, still suffers from some of the mental trauma. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you.’

‘Anthony, beloved, you can trust me. Listen to me, focus on your ribs, you must be able to feel the clutches of agony loosening their hold on you.’

Tony could, his breathing was easier, but he still held his arm close, his fear mingling with the old horrors of previous betrayals.

‘Tony?’ Stephen questioned.

‘Don’t leave,’ Tony whispered, ‘I’m sorry for what I did, for being who I am, but-’

Loki silenced him with a fierce kiss, holding Tony’s face in his hands, waiting until their gazes locked.

‘Nothing is worth your life, especially not mine,’ Loki told him viciously. ‘I am honored by the depths of your love for me, touched that you find me worthy, but I am more resilient than you, stronger because of my heritage. There is not much in this universe that can harm me, but there is so much that can harm you,’ Loki told him, his eyes going filmy wet.

‘I can’t lose you, Lokes, can’t lose either of you.’ Tony stretched forward to kiss him again, tentatively offering his hand for treatment.

Loki took it, his touch tender as he applied the salve. Tony didn’t watch as he worked, nuzzling his face into Stephen’s chest, breathing him in, inhaling the lingering scent of battle and sweat.

‘Ah, took you long enough. Tony, I need you to sit up for a second, come on.’ He reached a hand beneath Tony’s head, encouraging him to sit up, supporting his weight. The Cloak dropped something into Stephen’s hand, draping itself over Tony’s legs, its collar fluttering at the bruises on Tony’s chest. ‘Open up, sweetheart.’

Tony did as he was asked, grimacing against the bitter pills placed on his tongue, fighting the urge to spit them out, glaring up at Stephen.

‘They’ll put you to sleep but they’ll help, I promise,’ Stephen swore, holding a glass of water to his lips.

‘Sorry,’ he croaked again once he finished drinking, scrunching his eyes up as Stephen lay him back down.

‘No, I am sorry for being angry, for fighting with you while you were injured, for making you believe that I would allow you to suffer in such a way. I wish I were a healer, that I did not have to watch you endure this alone.’

Tony flexed the fingers of his injured hand, laughing a little in relief as the pain receded to a dull ache. ‘Come lay down with me, I think I need sleep,’ he requested. He usually grumbled at how soft Stephen’s mattress was, preferring a firmer mattress, but right now it felt heavenly. He wriggled down further into the blankets, sighing loudly as both his lovers flanked him.

‘Sorry again,’ he whispered, holding back his tears as he felt twin kisses on his forehead.

‘Sleep beloved, we will watch over you,’ Loki told him, the edge of his finger stroking over the bridge of Tony’s nose.

‘We’ll tell you off when you wake up, douchebag,’ Stephen added, snaking an arm cautiously over Tony’s shoulders.

Despite the feeling of his battered body, Tony found himself falling asleep quickly, the sounds of his partners whispering, the soothing strokes to his body and the medication all sending him into a dreamless sleep.

#frostironstrange #Loki #Tony Stark #Stephen Strange #writing prompt #Ask #answered asks

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the-bjd-community-confess · 2 years

Text

So I had a little scare today.

I collect mainly resin bjds but I do have a vinyl Obitsu doll and I have this sort of off-brand abs bjd that I got a while back who’s a particular favorite of mine despite the fact that she doesn’t really match the rest of my collection. She’s adorable and very robustly made and sturdy, so today I had her sat in her chair on my work table which is kind of in the middle of my mom and I’s work room between my chair and my mom’s area, but I’m very careful and very attached to my dolls. My mom is not super fond of my dolls but she’s nice about them and knows I love them dearly.

Anyway, my mom was working on a plushie design and she was using the stuffing bag we use for the stuff we make for our shop and she got frustrated because it didn’t work so she fairly gently pushed the stuffing bag (it’s very large like 3ft tallish and wide but super lightweight) off her lap and it like flung itself?? And launched over to my table and just obliterated everything. It sent all of my work and supplies flying to the floor (which was fine because I was just sewing some accessories) but it also threw my abs doll off her chair and across the table and completely snatched her wig off her head and I yelped in fear because I’ve never dropped or knocked over any of my dolls before and I kinda forgot that she’s like hard plastic for a moment and my mom freaked and started apologizing because she saw that my doll had sort of face planted.

She just kept apologizing over and over and I picked up my doll and gave her a once over and she’s fine. No damage to her body or clothes, and I use brush on sealant for my faceups so they’re really durable so there was no chipping or anything despite landing right on her face. I fixed her wig and laughed it off and put her back in her chair and cleaned up my work stuff. My mom feels pretty bad for knocking her over which is likely because she 1. Knows I love my dolls so much and 2. Because she physically cringes at the amount of money I’ll spend on a single doll. I’m just so thankful I didn’t have any of my resin babies there because they could’ve broken a finger or an ear or a nose or something worse. Luckily I’m kind of over careful with my expensive resin dolls so I always put them somewhere they can’t get bumped or topple over when I take them out of my room. My brother for some reason is very much not light on his feet and when he comes down the stairs or walks through a room it’s like he’s bouncing, so I’ve learned not to put anything valuable where it can vibrate.

One time I had my very first resin doll on a table in my living room sat flat on the table in front of a rather thick book and he came around the corner and she sort of yeeted herself backwards, but the book stopped her from going more than a cm back or so and all that happened was her wig rather aggressively flung itself to the floor because it had a heavy clip on it, and now I’m like all dolls must be secure at all times lmao

Moral of the story. Protect your babies y’all.

~Anonymous

#BJD #ABJD #BJD Confessions #Community Confessions #BJD and Family #BJD Care

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mudhornchronicles · 3 years

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brick | din djarin

pairing: din djarin x f!reader

warnings: making out, season two spoilers, fluff, so much sweetness - willy wonka is jealous

a/n: this is part three of maroon. i’d like to thank @remmysbounty for the request and idea for part 3! i also got inspiration from this post!

also: a scene was inspired by this post

reds: maroon | sanguine | brick

masterlist

“Din Djarin - if you don’t give me that cape this instant, I promise you that this next stop will be your last.”

You stomped your foot and let out an exasperated huff. Your husband stands in front of you, clad in his armor minus the helmet, teasingly waving his tattered cape in front of you. You lunge for the shabby and discolored piece of fabric and nearly trip as he pulls back his precious cape.

“Cyar’ika, I don’t need a new cape. This one works perfectly well. See?” He wraps the material around his broad shoulders and tucks it into his chest plate - making sure it stays intact. “It does its job. All I need it to do is hide body heat from snipers.”

You let out a loud sigh with a dramatized eye roll. “Riduur, please. I didn’t say to get a new cape. I just asked to fix it. So Din, just let me sew the holes at the bottom of the kriffing cape!”

You walk over to him and place your hands on his chest. You trace the ridges of the beskar chest plate and look up at him through your lashes. “Besides… doesn’t the Mand’alor always have to look his best?” You smirk and raise your eyebrows up and down.

He shakes his head no and places his arms around your frame. “The only person I care about looking good for is you. I didn’t ask to be Mand’alor.”

You wrap your arms around his neck to give him a peck on the lips, but he wanted more. He held you tighter and deepened the kiss. Your hands unwrapped from around his neck and cupped his face - one hand on either cheek. His tongue peeked out and licked your bottom lip. A sign you knew meant his tongue asking for permission to join the party. You smiled and invited your tongue to meet his.

You loved kissing your husband. Not because he’s your forever partner, but because kissing him is a dance of sorts. His mouth moves perfectly with yours while your tongues waltz. His big hands on you - one against your lower back and the other bringing you closer to him by your hip. You can kiss him forever and you’d never get tired of it. His facial hair doesn’t get in the way of kissing him, but it can get long enough that it covers his upper lip and that bothers you. You love seeing his lips - especially in the morning as they’re swollen and full from sleep. He tends to groom himself whenever he notices you staring at his lower half of his face.

The pair of you are torn away from your trance when Din hears the navigation device beep indicating that the ship is approaching its destination. Din gives you one last kiss and runs up to the cockpit of the ship Greef Karga let him borrow. You walk up into the cockpit and look out the dashboard and see you are approaching an ocean planet - curious, you thought.

“What’s this planet called, riduur?”

“Ahch-To.”

“Do you have a bounty here? It’s beautiful.”

“No, something even better.”

You look over to him as he turns on a small commlink. When the light glows green, you watch your husband speak into it. “Am I landing across the island?”

You look back out the dashboard in confusion. Who could you husband be speaking to? You wait a few seconds and the commlink comes back alive - a young man’s voice comes through.

“Yes, Mandalorian. Land your craft on the east side of the island. I will send a landspeeder for you. He’d be very upset with me if I had you walk across an island.”

“Copy. Landing on the island’s east.” With that, your husband turns off the commlink and puts it back into his belt pouch.

He lands the ship on the east side of the island, as instructed, and leads you back into the hull. You walk to your shared sleeping quarters and grab his helmet. You walk back and place a chaste kiss on Din’s shaking lips before latching his helmet back into place. He grabs a bag from the floor near the ramp and places it around his shoulder. He grabs your hand into his gloved one and opens the ramp.

You walk off the ship and sure enough, a rusted landspeeder awaits you with an eager R2 unit set up in the back. You walk over to the beeping machine and pet his round top. “Why hello R2 unit, do you have a class number?” The white and blue beeps excitedly and starts to shake. You let out a giggle and continue to pet him. “It’s very nice to meet you, R2-D2. Will you be taking us to whoever my husband is here to see?”

R2-D2 beeps once more and you nod in satisfaction. “Very well, R2. Thank you for picking us up.” You hear a scoff to your left and you turn to see your husband shaking his head in disbelief - all while laughing and putting the final bag in the landspeeder. You put your hands on your hips and lean on one leg.

“Is there an issue, riduur?”

“No,” he puts his hands up in surrender. “Not at all. I just forgot how much you liked to talk to droids. How can you even understand them? They just... beep.” He helps you into the landspeeder and settles himself in. You tell R2-D2 that you are ready to go and the landspeeder begin to move with a beep from R2.

“Every beep is like morse code. Just like sign language has specific angles and motions, droids have specific tones and lengths. My dad had me spend a lot of time with our protocol droid back on Naboo who taught me quite a lot.” Your husband nods in an understanding manner and leans back into his seat. He places an arm around you and you think he may have slept throughout the ride.

When R2-D2 notifies you of your arrival, you and Din jump off the speeder. You collect your things and thank R2-D2 for the ride. He beeps back and asks you to wait as he rides away. You assume he went to park the landspeeder.

You walk into a cottage on the ledge of a cliff that R2 had led you to and are met with colors painting the walls. A child’s drawings plastered on every surface. You leave your things in the spare room R2 told you about and are led to a flat area atop a hill not far from the cottage. You see a young man in a black robe and a small green child sitting in front of each other and you saw… floating rocks? Is this what Din meant when he said you’d see “weird” things?

You were pulled out from your thoughts by a child’s shriek and blabbering. You focus on the scene in front of you as you see the blubbering mess of the green child running towards your husband. You watch in shock as your husband removes his helmet, tosses it to the side and falls to his knees. He catches the youngling in his arms and places a kiss to his wrinkled little head. Din stands and hugs the child tight.

“Hello ad’ika. I’ve missed you so much.”

You can’t help, but smile at the thought that Din brought you here to meet Grogu, his foundling.

“He’s very happy to see you, Mandalorian. When I informed him about your upcoming visit, Grogu couldn’t wipe that smile off his face.”

Din looks over at the young man and nods. He looks back at you and introduces you to the man you now know as Luke Skywalker.

“Grogu.” The child looks up at his father and holds his cheeks in his little claws. Din turns to you and has Grog look at you as he introduces you by name. “This is my riduur - my wife.”

Grogu hides in Din’s neck and shyly waves his claw at you. You thought it would be best to not overcrowd the child, so you wave back at him while keeping your distance.

“Hello, Grogu. It’s very nice to meet you. Your father could not stop talking about you. He loves you very much.”

Grogu coos at you and snuggles into his father’s neck once more. You smile at the baby and look at Din. He’s looking down at his son with the eyes you know to be filled with love.

“How about we go back to the cottage. We can have some food and I can update you on Grogu’s training.”

When you make it back to the cottage, Grogu immediately takes Din into his room in the cottage. You hear Din say phrases such as “good job, kid!” and “is that supposed to be my helmet?” and finally “that’s really good, buddy.” Your heart melts away as you imagine him saying things like that to your biological children. Instead of going into Grogu’s room and making him shy away again, you decide to help Luke prepare dinner as he tells you what Grogu’s training entails. Grogu drags Din to the table set up in the living room - well the middle of the cottage really - and sits him down and hands Din a crayon. He grabs a cookie from the jar on the table and breaks his cookie in half, handing a side to Din. You know Din’s heart is about to explode when you see Grogu clap at Din’s drawing of Grogu’s silver ball.

As you all sit and eat dinner, Luke tells Din about how advanced Grogu is in his training and the kind of power he predicts Grogu will have. Grogu was the first to finish and asked Luke to be excused from the table. When Luke gives him permission, Grogu runs to the table in the middle of the room and continues to draw - his favorite pastime you learn.

As you listen to Luke and Din talk about Grogu for what feels like ages, you feel a tug on your tunic. You look down to see Grogu lifting his arms to you with a paper in one hand and a red crayon in the other. You ask him if he’d like to be picked up by you and he nods. You place the baby on your lap as he places his paper and crayon on the table. You look down and you feel tears forming in your eyes.

His drawing consisted of three people.

One figure was drawn in an obsidian black crayon with a helmet adorning its head - Din.

Another figure was much smaller than the other two and was drawn in a forest green crayon - Grogu.

The third and final figure was drawn in ocean blue crayon. You looked down at your tunic and saw it was blue. He drew you.

He asks you for his red crayon that rolled too far from him to reach. You grab it and read the crayon’s color - brick.

He begins to scribble on the paper above the figures. You assumed he was writing his name or simply scribbling, but when he cooed at you to look, you couldn’t help but give him a gentle squeeze.

Above the figures in Grogu’s scratchy handwriting was the word ALIIT in blocked brick-red letters.

Din looks over to you when he hears you sniffling and is in awe when he spots the drawing. He gives Grogu a loving head rub. Grogu asks for his blue cookies that are placed near Luke. Luke obliges and tells Grogu he can have them. Grogu summons them and mentally drags them until they are in front of him. He grabs one and breaks it in half, offering you one half of his cookie as he eats the other half.

As you bond with your husband’s foundling, you overhear Luke tell Din that Grogu’s training is complete. Grogu had informed him that he did not want to walk the path of the Jedi - he just wanted Din.

“Mandalorian,” Luke warns, “If your Grogu refuses to train as a Jedi, I cannot stop him. His attachment to you is too strong to break. If he is forced to stay, his emotions will get the best of him and the pull towards the darkside will become stronger than ever.”

“Then he goes with us. If he doesn’t need anymore training to control his powers then he can go right?”

Luke simply nods. He then looks at Grogu and as if he told him the plan, Grogu springs in excitement and jumps in your lap. He babbles and looks up at you as if saying “do I really get to go with you guys?”

As yourself and Din pack up Grogu’s possessions before going back to the ship, Grogu makes it clear that he wants every drawing of his neatly packed as well.

With Grogu’s two bags and a box full of drawings, you make it back to the ship. Grogu gives Luke a big hug and places his forehead onto Luke’s. They stay like this for a while and Luke finally says, “no, thank you, Grogu. It’s your turn to take care of your family just as your father took care of you.”

You bid your thank you’s and goodbyes to Jedi Master Luke Skywalker and R2-D2 and promise him that Grogu will come back to see him again. As the ship takes off, you and Grogu look out the dashboard and wave goodbye. You keep waving until Luke and R2D2 look like specks and your view is clouded by oceans.

“What’s next, riduur?”

Din looks over to you and removes his helmet. He looks down at his son and takes Grogu’s claw into his fingers.

“I think it’s time that we formally adopt Grogu.”

You smile and place a kiss on top of Grogu’s head. “Din, have you not vowed him as yours yet?”

Din shakes his head and laughs. “I never had the chance to. I was either getting shot at or he was getting kidnapped.”

You playfully shove him. “Then what are we waiting for? Does the Mand’alor want to start or should I?”

“I found him first so I get to start.”

You roll your eyes and gesture him to continue. You take Grogu’s other hand in yours.

“Ad’ika,” Din clears his throat and begins, “ni k-kyr'tayl gai sa'a. I know your name as my child, Grogu.” Din places a quick kiss on Grogu’s forehead and Grogu smiles brightly.

It’s your turn now. “Grogu, ni kyr'tayl gai sa'a. I know your name as my child, if you’ll have me.”

Grogu seemed to understand what this saying was. He stood onto your lap and hugged you, little claws on your jaw and then launched himself into Din’s arms.

You knew you wanted to start a family with Din ever since you first met the shy little foundling in maroon armor back on Mandalore. You also knew you wanted to have foundlings join your clan, but you didn’t know that the foundling would turn out to be a green baby with jedi powers. Though you don’t fully understand Grogu’s powers, you wouldn’t wish for a different little kid.

As you’re putting Grogu to bed, you hear Din come into the ship’s hull trying his hardest to be quiet. Din may be covered with beskar with head to toe, but he can sneak up behind you like nobody’s business. You put your hand out to motion him over behind you. He looks over you to see Grogu sleeping peacefully with Din’s cape wrapped around him with a corner of the fabric in his mouth.

“Cyar’ika, do you think - you think we can finally build a home and settle down? I just want Grogu to be able to be a kid.”

You lean back until his torso hits your back. “That sure sounds nice, Din.”

“How does Endor sound? Maybe even Naboo? I know you may not like Naboo because of your mother, but as your husband, I want to give you new memories. I think our kids would like the lakes there. Endor is also a beautiful planet and I’ve heard Ewoks are nice when you offer them food. They’re little teddy bears so our kids would enjoy befriending those little creatures. They’re small, but highly intelligent.”

“What about being the Mand’alor? You have to take back Mandalore for your people. Wouldn’t we have to be on the planet you want to take back?”

“I’ll take back Mandalore, no doubt about that. But that doesn’t mean I can’t start a life with you elsewhere first. I want to make up for the time we were forced apart. I still haven’t given you little warriors.”

“No, Djarin. You haven’t. I think it’s time for you to put in some work and give me a baby. Well, aside from our little green son.”

“I’d jump into a lava river if you’d ask me to.”

“Nah, I just want to raise our four or five babies with you by my side.”

“Four or five babies?”

“Yes. Two biological babies, Grogu, and other foundlings. There are so many children with no one to love them and we both have plenty of love to give. We just need stability.

“That can be arranged, my queen.”

mando’a translations:

cyar’ika = sweetheart

riduur = spouse

mand’alor = leader of Mandalore

ad’ika = little one

gai bal manda = adoption ceremony

Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad = I know your name as my child

taglist: @theocatkov @remmysbounty

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #star wars

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theasstour · 4 years

Photo

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟏𝟓.𝟒𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

Friday, 7 August

Certain feelings linger. No matter what you’re doing, no matter who you’re with, what you’re feeling at that very moment, some emotions will stay with you. In the back of your head, or on your skin, in your nose, on your tongue. They wait for a moment to attack, when you’re most vulnerable, and when they do, it’s all you can do not to crumble to a million and one pieces. They’ll linger until they decide not to, and then they paralyse you. You become a ghost, living in the past, in a memory or a feeling or with people who aren’t part of your life anymore. You’re haunted, and the haunting: torturing yourself with memories you want to and try desperately to escape, but can’t.

Y/N was going through one of those moments when she sat with Bessie that Friday morning, looking at the flowers on the vines climbing the wall straight ahead in the back garden of the Inn. The flowers had triggered memories she should forget, memories of Harry and Gracie and the moors outside the lighthouse. Memories that should’ve been left alone, but that she simply could not.

“Y/N dear?” Bessie’s voice brought Y/N quickly out of her reverie. “Are you quite alright?”

Forcing a smile onto her face, Y/N nodded ever so slightly, looking down at the cardigan in her lap. She slowly started sewing again, paying close attention to her work in front of her.

“I would say,” Bessie started, taking her glasses off as she turned to the vest she was knitting. “I’ve known you for quite some time now, would you not agree, dear?”

Y/N glanced up at her again.

“And I can tell now when you’re not yourself. You want to know how?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t speak.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, glancing down at the fabric in her lap again.

“I’m therefore giving you one more chance to tell me what’s bothering you, and if you don’t want to say, you don’t tell me, alright?” Bessie said, eyes narrowed as she brought the brown vest closer to her face. “Are you okay?”

It was weird how she hated how well the people in St Ives knew her. She hated that Bessie could tell when something was off with her, that Jessa went out of her way to find recipes Y/N would like, that Grace knew what flowers to pick her, that Fatima knew her revision routine, that Florence would show her to the new things in Vintage Divine she knew Y/N would love. The people here had made such a huge effort to get to know her, every single part, and with them, she would leave small pieces as well. With Bessie, Grace, Jessa, Fatima, Ellie, Dax, lolo. Harry. She’d leave her heart with him. It would be hard to go on without a life force within her chest, but that was the price to pay for giving it away and letting herself feel.

“I can’t seem to get the hang of this new stitch,” Bessie groaned, putting her glasses on to look at the guidelines in front of her. “How’s the cardigan coming?”

“Uhm… okay.”

“It’s gonna be nice to wear when autumn comes around, innit?” Bessie smiled before reading the instructions again.

Y/N nodded her head, biting at her bottom lip as she studied Bessie some more. Bessie had known everything from the moment it had all begun. She had heard the conversation Harry and Y/N had one of those first days, had known ever since then that they were faking it. This woman knew Y/N almost better than she seemed to know herself, and yet there was a big part of it all that she did not know. If there was one person in this world that would not judge, that would hang onto her every word, that would not hesitate to give her advice, it was Bessie. Y/N loved Bessie so much that it sometimes scared her.

And because of that, she cleared her throat, opened her mouth, and said, “Actually… There’s something.”

Bessie’s kind eyes fell on Y/N again, showing her that she had her undivided attention. Seagulls were singing in the distance, the dotted sky overhead made it so the sun shone down on them every once in a while between layers of clouds. It was all so very St Ives, every single day this summer had been like this. It was as if the world had continued on turning, everyone else had continued to be, even after Y/N felt like the universe had crumbled around her. She knew that it wouldn’t stop doing just that until she faced her parents again, until she stood before them and told them to let her go. But before that happened, she had to gather all her courage. She had to be ready before it all went down, she was not ready yet.

“What’s on your mind, my dear?” Bessie asked, reaching over and resting her hand on top of Y/N’s.

“I, uhm…” Y/N furrowed her brows, looking down at the colourful cardigan again before she met Bessie’s eyes. She had to look into the older woman’s eyes when she told her this. It would be hard, but she needed to know that she was actually telling Bessie and that Bessie was listening. “My parents… I need to tell you what happened before I came here.”

Y/N told Bessie everything. About life back in Hampshire, her parents, Dominic, coming here, and everything that followed. She told her about Harry, how she felt about him, Dominic showing up, what had gone down between her and Harry, and the inevitable that would soon happen. Bessie listened intently, nodding along every here and there, taking Y/N’s hand when she began to cry.

“That’s why, after Jessa’s party tonight, I’m leaving St Ives. I’ll be getting the train- whatever train I can get,” Y/N said at last, wiping another tear away from her cheek. “I just… I just can’t be here.”

“In case your father comes here?”

Y/N nodded, biting her lips together to stop her bottom one from wobbling too hard.

“You’re scared of his reaction when he meets you again?”

“I know he won’t hurt me, but I don’t know how he’s going to react to seeing Harry and everyone else who kept me here.”

“When he eventually follows you, you’ll face him, yes? You’ll tell him, your mother, and Dominic that this is your life.”

Y/N sniffled. “Yeah, I just… I can’t be here when that happens. How will they react when they find out I’ve fallen in love with Harry?”

Bessie squeezed Y/N’s hand, giving her a reassuring smile. For a single second, Y/N felt better. “I’ll stick by you, Y/N,” the older woman said. “I’ll help you in any way I can. You are not getting stuck up there with them again, not if I can help it.”

At that, Y/N couldn’t help the slight sob that left her lips. Bessie tutted and wrapped an arm around Y/N, bringing her to her side to give her a hug and Y/N fell effortlessly into her and the embrace. “Thank you.”

“I’ll drive you to the train station,” Bessie said. “Just give me a shout, and we’ll leave, yeah? I won’t be mad if it’s in the middle of one of me ciders.”

Y/N chuckled and Bessie smiled, kissing her forehead.

“And come back here to St Ives when you’re done running. Whenever that is.”

Bessie was not the best driver, but Y/N knew that Harry wouldn’t appreciate her asking him to pick her up and reject her, and that was if he even bothered to answer. Instead, Bessie had offered to drive her as she was coming to the party too, and so the two of them headed there together. Before leaving, Bessie told the assistant receptionist to give her a bell if a wealthy-looking pair accompanied by a younger man in his mid-twenties were to come by the Inn. Though Bessie was sure it wouldn’t happen, she still wanted to be on the safe side.

They picked up Camila and her husband on the way, all of them chattering merrily amongst themselves about things of little significance. For a few minutes there, Y/N forgot she was going to see Harry again. After everything that had happened two days ago, they were going to be in the same room, and they were going to pretend like nothing had happened. They would have to talk and be close to one another, something that would be harder now that they both knew how the other felt, yet couldn’t be. As Bessie drove up the gravel road to the farm, Y/N held her breath as she thought about all the ways in which this could go wrong.

The trees opened up and revealed the green field beyond along with the small farm that Y/N had come to adore more than she could ever express in words. There was the barn where they had the karaoke night, and there was the house where she’d spent countless hours with the Styles-Flores family, where she’d allowed herself to feel content, allowed herself to feel genuine happiness.

The whole outside of the farm was filled with both cars and people, more than Y/N had ever seen there before. She recognised some right away, while others were foreign to her. She wondered how Harry felt now, with all these people around at once. Though he had proven to be able to be around a lot of people before, Y/N knew that he much preferred to just be at the lighthouse by himself. This party seemed bigger than something he’d enjoy; Y/N suddenly felt a small surge of protectiveness rush through her. In an instant, she wanted to be in that crowd and seek out Harry, to make sure he was alright.

Bessie killed the engine and turned to Y/N as Camila and her husband stepped outside. She gave Y/N a smile, squeezing her hand.

“Tell me when you’re ready to leave, I’ll drive you back to the Inn and to the train station, okay?”

Y/N took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she slowly prepared herself for everything that was about to happen. These would be her last few hours in St Ives. After this party, she would leave this wonderful town and the beautiful people in it. She would have to say a silent goodbye to everyone and try, as well as she could, to pretend like nothing was wrong. Y/N was no actress, so it would undoubtedly be hard, but she had also now, in the last few weeks, realised that she was willing to go to immeasurable lengths for the people she loved.

Y/N nodded at Bessie’s words. “Yeah, I’ll tell you. Won’t be too long, I know how you like to take walks along the beach on Friday evenings.”

“Oh, today is an exception, my dear!” Bessie exclaimed, squeezing Y/N’s hand again. “Today is most definitely an exception.”

The two got out of the car and made their way, with their arms entwined, over to the gate that led into the chaos of the farm. Some music was playing – Y/N thought it was some kind of piano tune -, the smell of delicious food hung permanently in the air around them, and laughter could be heard from every single corner. The atmosphere was just like it always was in St Ives, lively and filled with promise. Y/N fell right into it and for a blissful second, she allowed herself to relax. Nothing could touch her, she told herself. When she was surrounded by this much love, surely she was untouchable. She repeated that sentiment until she was stood reminded that, at any moment, she would have to leave and be driven back to the Inn to get her bag, and then leave St Ives for good. Because even love wasn’t enough when you were running away from something, it just made the running away much more complicated.

She saw Fatima and Amir standing together with their family, Amir giving Y/N a wink as their eyes met and Fatima waving. Ellie was stood with another woman, looking at her with such adoration on her face that the mysterious lady had to be Ellie’s Irish girlfriend coming to visit. Jo and Dax sat by a table not too far away from the grill, listening to Cameron as he told an elaborate story of sorts. Jo nodded their head at Y/N and Dax said her name, smiling from ear to ear, making Cameron look her way and give her a friendly wave. Some distance away, Camila, Barb, and Florence all stood chattering happily amongst themselves, chuckling at something Barb had just remarked. Y/N wondered how, in the span of a few months, she had managed to fit in and find a home in a town she had only spent a fraction of her time in. Was it true how Harry had once said, that some unknown force brought you where you needed to be? It would bring you where you belonged, to whom you were meant to belong with?

Y/N had never believed that type of thing before, but surely this could not all be coincidence. The life she had made for herself here, the people she had met, it was better than goodness and balance could ever bring her. This was more powerful than anything she had ever felt.

“Y/N!”

Looking over her shoulder, Y/N saw Grace running toward her, her arms outstretched and the biggest grin on her face. Y/N hunched down and welcomed Grace’s embrace. Bessie smiled, giving Y/N’s shoulder a pat before she went to join her friends. While feeling the little girl’s arms around her shoulders, Y/N felt tears pressing on. When she left, she would miss Grace and her hugs.

“You came just in time.”

“For what?” asked Y/N as the two pulled away from one another.

“The summer film, of course!”

Y/N cocked her head a little to the side, trying to get the drift of what Grace was saying but failing. “What do you mean?”

“Hasn’t Harry told you?”

“Told me what?”

“Ahh, look at you!” Jessa approached the two of them, that familiar and wonderful beam on her face that seemed to be permanently placed there. “You look breath-taking, Y/N.”

“Thank you so much, Jessa,” Y/N smiled at her. Their last conversation was all Y/N could seem to remember when she looked into the older woman’s eyes, and, once again, she found it hard not to cry. If interacting with these two made her want to bawl, how would she react when she met Harry?

“You alright, my love?” Jessa asked, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s shoulders and bringing her close. “How have you been since we last saw each other?”

It was clear that the older woman was referring to the chat they had in the kitchen three days earlier, and at that, Y/N inhaled hugely, trying to calm herself down.

“I’m… I’ve been okay. I think.”

Jessa gave her a smile. “Since we started chatting about that recipe book, I’ve tried to put together a few recipes that I think you’d like. Of course, I’m also adding those I know you do like, but I think this’ll be amazing. You can teach Harry how to cook properly.”

“You can make me good food when I come to the lighthouse,” Grace beamed, and Y/N couldn’t help her slight chuckle. “Harry isn’t a good cook; he only makes me toasties.”

“I’d have to bring the book every time I’m visiting then.”

“Surely you’ll stay,” Jessa implored, looking at Y/N with expectant eyes. “Or do you need to go back to Hampshire?”

Y/N felt her heart beat hard as she tried to come up with some sort of explanation. Last thing she wanted to do was tell them both that she was leaving because her ex-fiancé and parents were trying to bring her back with them. She needed to make them believe that, when they looked back on this moment post her and Harry’s “break up”, they could believe that things weren’t working out between the two of them.

“I don’t have my own place here, and you both know how much Harry values his own.”

“You and Harry slept in the lighthouse that night,” Grace said, swaying back and forth while studying how her dress flowed with her. “Harry never lets people sleep in the lighthouse or come into the lightkeeper bedroom. Not even me. Maybe you could move in there.”

Jessa studied Y/N for a few seconds, pursing her lips before she beamed again. “What a fantastic idea, Gracie. That’s exactly where she should be.”

“Oh! I also picked you a bouquet of flowers! I’ve never picked you one, and I needed to!” Grace smiled up at Y/N.

“What about the bouquet you and Harry left outside my door at the Inn that time?”

“That was all Harry. He usually helps me pick my bouquets, but he wanted to pick you one, that’s why it was so lousy.”

Y/N let out a small chuckle. “I thought it was quite beautiful myself.”

“More beautiful than the ones I pick?”

“No one could pick a more beautiful bouquet of flowers than you, Gracie.”

Grace grinned at Y/N. “You’re just saying that to spare my feelings.”

“I’d never!” Y/N gasped dramatically, making Grace laugh.

“Y/N!” someone called from behind them, and when Y/N glanced back there, Dax was waving his arms, trying to make her come over. Excusing herself, Y/N walked over to the gang that had now gathered around the table, talking a bit and Cameron laughing loudly at something Jo had just said. She smiled as she came to stand with them, feeling their warm and comforting presence around her.

“Harry!” Amir called and Y/N whipped around in an instant.

The second their eyes met, Harry halted a bit. They had both been prepared for what was to come when this eventually happened, but it didn’t seem like they had been ready regardless. Everything, every word, every action, that had been exchanged at the lighthouse two days prior still lingered in the air between them. Looking into his eyes, Y/N still saw him screaming at her that she’d always have a choice, still saw him slamming his door at her and kissing her palm when they were in the car together. She saw every single second that had transpired between them up there. Part of her wondered if he did as well, if he felt as hopeless and as bad as her, or if it took everything in him not to grimace in disgust at the mere sight of her.

As he came nearer, Y/N wanted to reach forward and take his hand, touch his arm, smile at him, but she stopped herself. Instead, she watched as Harry smiled at his friends, coming to stand beside Y/N in the most awkward and tense stance she had ever seen on him. He made to put his arm around her waist, but she could tell that he stopped himself at the last second, instead giving her the same tight-lipped smile he’d given everyone else. When Y/N glanced at the others, they were all chatting, not paying attention to the awkward transaction between her and Harry. However, Dax was watching them like a hawk, eyeing the space between them, then studying each of them in turn before he leaned forward, narrowing his eyes.

“I spy-“

“-Shut up,” Harry said, only giving Dax a small look before he averted his eyes to look at the rest of the gang that were all talking happily. Dax raised his hands in surrender, sitting back in his chair as if nothing had happened.

“Y/N,” Fatima suddenly said, smiling over at her. “The UCAT’s not far away now, how’re you feeling?”

“It’s well over a month still.”

“Not that long,” Fatima said, waving Y/N’s comment off as she walked over to stand beside her. “How’s reading going?”

“Alright, I suppose. Got a lot of reading done yesterday and I suppose I’ll get some reading done later this evening as well.”

Fatima chuckled. “Did you bring your books here?”

Y/N felt her heart lurched out of her chest for a split second, almost giving her plans on leaving that evening away to Fatima. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to know where she was, it’d just be easier that way. To leave without a trace.

“No, I’m just anxious. Think I might pull an all-nighter just to be sure I feel satisfied.”

“Harry’ll do the same then,” Dax chimed in, sipping his beer. “He should, anyway.”

“Pull an all-nighter?” Amir asked, having joined the conversation without Y/N realising. “Why? Doesn’t he normally do that anyway?”

“Talking about me like I’m not here. I see how it is,” Harry said, taking a beer from Dax when he handed it to him.

“I’m very excited to see how this UCAT goes, Fatima said you’ve read quite a lot. Reckon you’ll bloody ace it,” Dax smiled. “Then we’ll have a proper dentist in our wee circle as well.”

“Has that ever been a goal of yours?” Jo asked, raising their eyebrows. “Mate, I worry sometimes. You don’t make sense.”

“I’m just excited, Jordan. Y/N’ll ace this UCAT, sod off to uni, and when she comes back, she’ll be a dentist. It’s wicked, innit?”

“That’ll be in six years, though,” Y/N reminded him.

“So?”

“It’s a long time, innit?”

“Well, as long as you don’t fuck off and leave us dentist-less then it doesn’t really matter, does it? You’ll be a dentist in our eyes no matter what.”

Y/N’s heart plummeted and she could see Harry’s jaw tensing in her peripheral vision. Again, Y/N could tell that Dax noticed something off about them. Amir started talking about something that Y/N couldn’t make out, her mind was focused entirely on the man beside her. Harry turned his head ever so slightly in her direction, lips parting as if to say something, but he slowly closed them as if thinking better of it. He turned forward again, eyes on Amir for a short second before he turned fully to look at Y/N. He opened his mouth once again, nothing came out, but after clearing his throat and scratching at his upper arm, he finally managed a, “Y/N.”

She glanced at him, hoping that no one was paying attention to them now.

“Can we…” He stopped, taking a deep breath as he lowered his voice and said, “Can I pull you for a chat?”

“Now, or…?”

“Yeah, you don’t mind?”

“No, I’m glad-“

“-The yearly summer film is about to go up in the barn!” yelled Jessa, clapping her hands together to gather everyone’s attention. “Harry will be playing the piano again shortly, to keep the light music going! But first, the film!” She retreated into the barn and most of the people outside followed her lead.

“Get in!” Dax said. “Let’s go, crew! I’m buzzing for this, always am!”

Everyone started walking toward the barn and Harry sighed, meeting Y/N’s eyes and about to nod towards the house when Amir wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He dragged both of them with him toward the barn, saying something about how they weren’t missing this.

“What’s going on?” Y/N asked once they were seated by a table inside. Looking about her, all the lights in the barn were dimmed like last time and a projector was facing the far wall, a blurry picture displayed on the wooden surface. Y/N couldn’t make out what was supposed to be displayed.

“Harry hasn’t told you about the yearly summer films?” Ellie asked, furrowing her brows some.

“No, he… Not in detail,” Y/N answered, shrugging her shoulders slightly with a small smile on her lips, trying to play it off.

“It’ll be apparent when you just watch this,” Ellie explained, squeezing Y/N’s shoulder.

Looking across the table, Y/N caught Harry’s eyes, mouth open again as he rummaged through his brain for the correct thing to say in that moment.

“Y/N, you should know that I made this before-“

“-Shh, you fucking nonce,” Amir hissed, elbowing Harry in the ribs and making Harry let out a huff, clutching his side. The entire barn fell quiet a few seconds later and Jessa pressed a button, music booming softly from the speakers on either side of the projector. A film that looked a lot like the format of Harry’s Super 8 Camera, the same one he’d bring with him everywhere, started rolling before them. It was of Grace, Jessa, Harry’s aunts Abby, Rachel, and their kids, all at Porthmeor Beach, some of Harry’s small cousins ran around him and Grace did a little twirl with her swimming goggles on.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you, I’ve got this feeling that won’t subside,” the voice from the speakers sang as it switched to a film of Amir diving into a pool, Jo jumping on top of him when he resurfaced. “I look at you and a fantasise, you’re mine.”

Dax howled with laughter, giving Harry’s back a firm pat. “Ace, mate.”

Another clip of some of Harry’s family showed, and then, the one after that, just as the chorus hit, Y/N recognised. It was the kamayan at Porthmeor Beach. “With these hungry eyes.” And there she was, sitting beside Harry. She was looking down at the table in front of her while Harry talked to her, explaining what she was supposed to do. “One look at you and I can’t disguise, I’ve got hungry eyes.”

A clip of the whole gang minus Y/N came next, all of them at the lighthouse during a sunset. The entire sky looked to be on fire, the orange reflecting onto every single person and thing under it. Jo stuck their tongue out at Harry while Ellie waved enthusiastically, wrapping her arms around Jo from behind, making them smile. And Y/N forgot the clip that came after that because she was too caught up in the one that appeared as the second verse began.

“I want to hold you so hear me out.” She was sat in the windowsill in Harry’s cottage, reading for her UCAT exam. She hadn’t noticed him filming her, she looked to be concentrating hard on the books and notes in front of her, in her own world completely. When looking at herself like that, she remembered the exact feeling of sitting there. The soft wind blowing through the window, the seagulls outside, the smell of salt wafting into the cottage.

“I want to show you what love’s all about.” She was outside the cottage now, doing a few poses that made people laugh. After it, she ran across the field beyond the lighthouse, jumping around with the biggest beam on her face. She remembered that day clearly. She remembered applying for the UCAT and hugging Harry for the first time, how good it had felt to feel his arms tightly wrapped around her like that. How safe she had felt. How untouchable. How fearless.

As the film went on, more and more clips of Y/N popped up. Of them just chilling in the lighthouse, or walking in town, or of her laying outside the lighthouse reading out loud to him. Fatima laid her head on Y/N’s shoulder at one point, smiling at the movie that was spilling out in front of them. The gang, Harry’s family, the knitting ladies, and other people Y/N had no idea who were, all played a huge role in Harry’s film. Every single part of St Ives and this summer got a place in it, everything important to making this summer one of a kind.

Watching it unfold before her made Y/N tear up again. This had been the best summer of her life and she was about to leave it all behind; leave all these people behind. She’d never see any of them again, never experience a summer like this, never feel happiness or peace quite like this.

“Now did I take you by surprise, with my hungry eyes.” A clip of Y/N sitting in the lighthouse keeper office, looking over the numbers as she calculated the dew point. It was the morning after they admitted to their feelings for one another. The sunshine that sneaked in through the window hit her just right, and along with the effects of the camera, it made it almost look like her face was lighting up like a sort of holy entity. “I need you to see, this love was meant to be.”

The rest of the film was scattered with different clips from the entire summer. Y/N was in some of them, but they were mostly of other people. However, she had still noted how, as the film had worn on, her face had appeared more and more. Maybe it was because she felt a pang inside her every time she saw herself up there, but she instantly knew the moment and remembered everything about everything to perfect detail. It was hard to forget something that had made you feel more than anything else ever had. It sticks with you, till you draw your last breath.

The entire barn clapped as the film ended and Harry received multiple claps on the back, “well done”s, and smiles of acknowledgment. He sat there, nodding and smiling back, thanking those who told him how talented he was. Y/N could tell that he didn’t want praise, that he would’ve much rather shrunk into a tiny molecule and ran off. Everything so he wouldn’t be the centre of attention. And if the two were on speaking terms, she would’ve taken his hand after he’d gotten his fair share of compliments, and dragged him away like she knew he’d want her to. Not doing exactly that was hard, so Y/N got up and looked about the room for something to distract her.

“Y/N.”

It was the only voice that could’ve prevented her from running that next second. She glanced down at Harry as he got up from his seat.

“Chat?”

“Yeah, alright,” she answered. Harry met Y/N’s eyes again, nodding in the direction of the barn exit. Their friends started wolf whistling, nudging each other and Harry and Y/N.

“Right, lay off,” Harry hissed.

For some reason, Y/N would miss this also. She would miss the constant teasing, their friends wiggling their eyebrows or letting a small remark slip from between their lips. It was the sense of being comfortable enough to joke around with someone, to let your guard down and let them take the piss out of you for something minor. Would she ever find something like this again? Would she settle and let people in like she had with this lot?

“On your way back after your chat, bring me a can? And maybe some food?” Amir smiled up at Harry, trying to persuade him in some way that was lost on Y/N. “I fancy some lumpia.”

“Why’d you say it like that?” Harry asked, almost smiling.

“Like what?”

“Like ‘chat’?” Harry raised his eyebrows and Amir shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m assuming it’s an important chat if you gotta drag her away from her festivities.”

“Who’s dragging who away from the festivities?”

Y/N could’ve done with not ever hearing her voice again. What bothered her the most about Emilia was that she didn’t really have any proof that she’d ever treated Harry like shite; Y/N just had her feeling. Her intuition told her so. One could only tell so much from someone’s past actions. Maybe she had gotten better, maybe she wanted to make up for everything she had done. But so far, Y/N doubted that had been Emilia’s intentions.

“Harry’s about to drag Y/N away from the barn so they can have a chat,” Ellie explained after a short pause where everyone had eyed Emilia upon her approach.

Emilia’s eyes fell on Y/N, then on Harry. Instinctively, Y/N walked over to stand beside Harry. She had no reason to, and she didn’t know if Harry really wanted her that close after everything, but something about Emilia looking at him like that made her somehow need to be close to him. Harry glanced over his shoulder at Y/N, biting his lips together before he glanced over at Emilia again, waiting for her to say something since she’d come over to their table after all.

“But I’m here now! The gang’s gonna hang out!” Emilia sat down in the only free chair around the table, the one Y/N had just vacated.

“Y/N and I really need to talk, we’ll be back.”

“Don’t be long, then,” Emilia smiled.

“We’ll take all the time we need, thank you.” Y/N noticed a few of the heads around the table turned to look at her after she said that. Dax’s eyes were round with shock, Jo’s lips were pursed, and Fatima was grinning where she sat beside Emilia. Even Harry noticed the tone in Y/N’s voice, the passive aggression, the fury. He got up from his seat, looking at Y/N as he pushed the chair to the table again.

“I only meant I wanted us all to be together now that summer’s coming to a close,” Emilia said, furrowing her brows and giving Y/N a smile as if she didn’t know why she was annoyed with Emilia.

“It’s fine, babe. Knew exactly what you meant. Keep my seat warm, will you?” Y/N gave the same smile back to Emilia before she turned her back on the table and started walking in the direction of the exit. She could hear Harry following close behind her, looking over his shoulder to give them all a little wave before they were outdoors again. It was dark now, the sunset that had been nearly over before they entered the barn was now long gone, leaving night in its stead. Y/N could feel a slight shift in the air, as if a storm was coming. Glancing up at the sky, she realised she didn’t see any stars, so it had to be cloudy.

Harry cleared his throat as he came to stand behind her. She slowly turned around, tuning out the few people that were still standing outside and conversing even though there were both food and more company inside the barn. It was quiet outside, much quieter than on would’ve thought given it was a party going on inside the barn. Then again, every time she had come out to the farm, it had always been a sort of peace hanging over the place. It was more peaceful here than anywhere else. The only place that was quieter than this, even with the harsh winds, was the lighthouse and the lightkeeper cottage.

She focused her attention on Harry as his mouth worked, finding the right words a moment later.

“Flower-“ Harry stopped himself instantly, shaking his head as if to remember that she wasn’t that to him anymore. “Y/N, I… I know… I know you’re leaving soon…” He trailed off, meeting her eyes. “I’m aware of that. But I think we need to talk. About everything that was said ‘cause… I don’t think you fully understand-“

“-If we’re just going to have the same conversation all over again, I don’t wanna do this,” Y/N warned him. “Both of us are too stubborn to ever find some sort of common ground.”

“No, I-“ Harry sighed, dragging his hand through his hair. “I don’t want us to find common ground, I just want to understand. I’m not going to try and change your mind- Of course, I’d be nice if you did, I don’t want you to fucking leave-“

“-Harry-“

“-Right, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I couldn’t help myself.” He took a small step back, giving her some more breathing space but keeping his voice low so she’d be the only one to hear him. “When’re you leaving, then?”

“Tonight.”

“T-Tonight?” Harry’s eyes grew wide, searching her face to see if this was some sort of joke. It seemed like he hadn’t taken her word for it last time when she told him she was leaving after the party.

She nodded her head.

“You’re leaving tonight?”

“Yes.”

“You-You can’t just leave like that.”

“Why not?”

“Well-“ Harry threw his arms out, searching frantically for words till he finally found them. “-Gracie’s gonna miss you.”

She sighed and just looked at him, watching as he let his arms rest at his sides, giving up whatever he was trying to achieve.

Though she was about to tell him he was being ridiculous, that they had to get back to everyone else indoors, she couldn’t help herself. Part of her wanted to confront him, to tell him how much his words had hurt those days before, how she wanted him to apologise to her for saying that about her. Comparing her to Emilia. But the other part of her, the one that won her over this time around, just wanted to spend a few insignificant significant moments with Harry. Where they didn’t talk, didn’t move, didn’t do anything outwardly important; just looked at each other, which seemed the most vital thing either of them would ever do. Though it wasn’t as major as their desperate moment in the car, it still had the same impact.

It seemed useless that their last few moments together were spent in silence, not doing what they really wanted to do because doing that wouldn’t be right on either of them, they knew that. Y/N wanted to tell him how spending a moment like this together, when they could be talking about everything that happened at the lighthouse, did not make sense. She wanted to lay it all on the table. But then-

“Y/N.”

Y/N and Harry both glanced over at Bessie who was walking over to her, glasses hanging from around her neck and a slightly concerned look on her face. At the sight of it, Y/N turned to face the older woman, taking her hand as she stood close enough.

“What’s up, Bess?”

Bessie brought her hand to her chest, the two lines between her eyebrows deepening. “My assistant called.”

Y/N’s heart plummeted, her entire body going cold. Bessie reached for her hand, bringing it between her two and squeezing it lightly, having sensed Y/N’s immediate panic. Bessie’s assistant receptionist calling her right now, and Bessie looking so worried about it, made Y/N believe there was only one thing that could’ve happened. Only the one thing Bessie would inform Y/N about. Y/N felt like running right that second. She didn’t want to be her anymore, not when they were so close. Not when everyone and everything she was trying to protect was all in one place.

She heard Harry take a small step forward, as if by doing so he’d understand what Bessie was talking about. “What’s happened, Bessie? Y/N-“

“-Harry!” Jessa called from the open barn door. “Harry, come play some piano for our guests!”

He inhaled hugely and let it out before glancing back at Jessa. “A moment.”

She gave him a look.

“Fine.” Looking back at Y/N, Harry’s jaw worked as he tried to find the right words to say next. “I… Please don’t leave yet.”

It was a hopeless thing to say, a hopeless thing to beg for, because she’d have to leave at some point regardless. Her departure would have the same effect if she left now or an hour later. But, to ease Harry’s nerves, she nodded her head, promising him this last thing. He nodded back, looking at her a second too long as he walked backwards toward the barn.

“Oh!” Jessa exclaimed, taking Harry’s hand before he had a chance to enter the barn. “Y/N, do you know what harana is?”

Y/N opened her mouth slowly, she tried to answer but her vocals wouldn’t work. Instead, Harry answered for her. “She doesn’t.”

Jessa grinned, waving Y/N over closer to her. Sharing a look with Bessie, Y/N walked over to Jessa, Bessie following close behind her as if she was ready to leave whenever Y/N was. As she reached the Filipina woman, Jessa took Y/N’s hand in hers and her beam widened.

“I think Harry should do one right now. You’ve been together for a while, but it’s never too late for a harana-“

“-Nanay,” Harry sighed, cheeks growing a little pink.

“Harana, hm?” lolo asked, grinning as he passed them on his way into the barn. “That’d be nice.”

“I-I’m not singing in front of everyone,” Harry hissed, wide eyes staring straight at Jessa.

“No, we’ll bend the rules a bit then.”

“What’s a harana?” Bessie asked, holding her phone in her hand now, standing close to Y/N.

“Harana is- well, it was a traditional form of courtship in the Philippines wherein men introduced themselves or wooed women by singing underneath their window. Unsurprisingly, it’s not as normal anymore, but it’s still practiced in some rural parts of the Philippines. The man is supposed to bear his heart to the woman, or vice versa in some cases, and hope that she loves him back,” Jessa grinned. “I know you two have already wooed each other, I know you have no reason to hope that Y/N loves you back, Harry, because you already know she does.” Harry’s eyes fell to his feet. “But wouldn’t it be nice? There are some traditions that shouldn’t die out, this is one of them.”

Y/N kept her eyes on Jessa. “So… So, if he’s not gonna sing…?”

“He’ll play the piano, of course. He’s got a few self-composted pieces of his own that he could try and woo you with.”

Y/N glanced at Harry, but he refused to meet her eyes. There was a slight awkwardness in the air around them now, one that had been caused by Jessa’s insistence on the harana. Y/N could tell Harry didn’t want to do one, could see him pressing his lips together and frantically looking for some kind of excuse not to do it. However, regardless how much Harry didn’t want to do the harana, Jessa always got her way. Especially with Harry. He could never reject her, no matter what.

“Fine,” he mumbled, and Jessa squealed, dragging both of them into the barn again. The piano stood in the corner of the room, music sheets from earlier already perch on top of it, ready to be used once again. Harry was thrown down onto the piano bench, furrowing his brows up at Jessa as his cheeks grew even redder.

“Everyone!” Jessa clapped her hands together again, making the majority of the room drop what they were doing in order to listen to their host for the evening. “Harry never got the chance to do a harana when he tried to seduce Y/N-“

“-Nay-“

“-So he’ll be doing that tonight! He won’t be singing, but he’ll serenade her in his own way!”

Grace ran toward them and sat down on the floor not too far away from the piano, grinning up at them as Y/N rested her arms on top of it, watching Harry as he tried to calm his raising nerves. The barn gave a small applause and Harry glanced up at Y/N, quickly averting his eyes again as if just looking at her made it all worse. He was acting as he had when they’d first met.

“I dunno what song to play,” he mumbled.

“The Y/N Song.”

Y/N looked over at Grace who was grinning at them, glancing from one to the other to see their reaction to her brilliant idea. She didn’t know if she wanted to break it to them that she’d heard said song before, when he played it in the living room before the karaoke night the week before.

“Yeah,” Harry said, rubbing a hand over his face before he hovered his hands over the keyboard. “Yeah, suppose that seems fitting now.”

“You’ve written her a song?” Jessa asked, low enough so just the few of those seated closest to the piano could hear it. “You never write songs about people.”

Y/N furrowed her brows a little, the question out of her mouth before she had a chance to stop it, “Isn’t it about that day in St Austell?”

He looked up at her, eyes wide with terror as if she’d just told him his nudes had been leaked. He opened and closed his mouth, glancing over at Grace who didn’t say a single word.

“That’s what I’m saying, he’s never written a song dedicated to a person, only a memory,” Jessa said, leaning against the wall. “Let’s hear The Y/N Song, then.”

Harry bit his bottom lip as he focused his attention on the keys in front of him, taking a moment to breathe before he pressed down and started playing.

Y/N instantly realised this wasn’t the tune she’d heard him play in the living room that day. It wasn’t the tune that Grace had asked him to play her and Dax, when she had interrupted him every now and again, but he hadn’t once stopped playing. No, it wasn’t that one. This was another one.

The St Austell melody had been very slow and flowed easily from the keys, The Y/N Song was also that, but the keys were pressed down harder, creating an altogether more passionate and timeless piece. There was something inside the very being of this melody that crept up Y/N’s spine and settled in that space between her lungs. It wrapped itself around her beating heart with a lace-like touch, promising to take care of her and the thousands of memories that had been made during their time together. The promise of summer could be heard, light as a feather and leaping as a last hope, pledging to give something to hold onto at last. Vowing to them both to change their entire lives in the span of days, weeks, months.

It took a few moments till Harry managed to look up at Y/N where she stood leaning against the piano. The second their eyes met; the rest of the world disappeared completely around them. The melody played on, sounding as sweet, as abiding, as that summer had been. Every moment spent with Harry flashed before Y/N’s eyes. She saw their days spent in the grass outside the lighthouse, saw her reading to him, reading by herself, him playing the piano for her, or filming her. Saw the evenings spent on the beach, the times spent in loving arms, the moments spent laughing with people who wanted nothing more than to see her happy. But most of all, she saw Harry. Just Harry. Felt him, smelled him, consumed him. She would cling to those moments for the rest of her life, she knew that. A heart beats out of love for the being in which it belongs, it loves its owner enough to keep them alive, and Y/N knew, with every piece of hers, that it was beating to the same rhythm, made out of the same stardust, as Harry’s was.

The song was over before she knew it, and suddenly the entire barn erupted into applause. Y/N blinked a few times, looking out over the people who were hooting and clapping and grinning at them. Harry seemed to be just as taken aback, letting out a breathy chuckle as he watched Y/N, not having taken his eyes off her since he first glanced up at her. Y/N suddenly realised that the reason why she’d heard that melody before was because Grace had been singing it. First when they picked flowers after Harry’s and Y/N’s night in the lighthouse, and also during their picnic. She was sure she’d heard it other times as well, but… had Harry played her that song? Had Harry written that melody and told Grace what it was inspired by, making the little girl refer to it as The Y/N Song?

Tim walked up to the piano, squeezing Y/N’s shoulder before he wrapped an arm around Harry’s, grinning at the both of them.

“You’d think the two of you were getting married,” he said, nodding his head out at the people who had just stopped clapping. “To think this all started last summer in Newquay, seems like you’ve been together for ages.”

Harry only smiled at Tim before he glanced back at Y/N, looking like he was about to say something, but he was interrupted.

“Nothing like a ‘lads only’ trip to find the girl of your dreams, ey? Dax,” Tim shouted, looking in the direction of the table of Harry’s and Y/N’s friend group. “Good job on not taking the piss when he started talking to Y/N on that beach! We wouldn’t be here!”

Dax cocked his head a little to the side, clearly confused. At that second, Y/N felt her heart stop beating entirely. With wide eyes, she looked at Harry who had the same expression on his face. He quickly tried to collect himself, getting up from the piano stool.

“Right, uncle Tim, should we go get you some water?”

Tim frowned at Harry, studying him for a few moments before he said, “I’m not plastered, Haz.”

“I know, but let’s go get you something to drink-“

“-Hang on, hang on.” Dax had walked up to the piano, holding his hand up as to stop whatever conversation was already going on. “What do you mean, Timmy?”

“Mean by what?”

“What you just said? What you mean by that?”

Harry tried to walk with Tim past the piano, giving both him and Dax a smile Y/N knew would give him away if either of the men studied him long enough. “It’s nothing, let’s-“

“-No, I know I took the piss out of you a little bit when you started talking to Emilia ‘cause you were such a goner, but I deliberately did not do that when Y/N came around St Ives ‘cause I knew you didn’t appreciate it,” Dax said, two deep lines between his brows. “I didn’t even meet Y/N till after you two had gone on that trip to Newquay. So, where’s this all coming from, then?”

“What’s going on here, lads?” Amir asked, the rest of the gang following after him. Y/N noticed how there were quite a bit of people watching this unfold. Her chest hurt with how hard her heart was beating. She looked over at Harry who was looking right back at her, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find something believable to say.

“What…” Tim said, removing his hand from where it rested on Harry’s shoulders. “But you… What?”

“I’m gonna take uncle Tim to the house,” Harry chimed in, trying his best to sound unbothered, but Y/N could hear it in his voice that he was anything but.

“No, H, I’m not drunk.”

“But we can still go inside, can’t we?”

Dax held up a hand again. “No, I want to know what uncle Timmy meant by what he said. How could I take the piss out of you when you started talking to Y/N, if I wasn’t even there when it happened?”

Tim looked at Harry for a few seconds, then at Y/N, tilting his head to the side as he tried to figure out what was going on. It seemed this was a lot for the older man to handle, stumbling a bit over his words as he tried to gather his thoughts.

“It’s alright, I’m sure uncle Tim meant nothing by it, Dax.”

“Meant nothing by what?” Tim took a step away from Harry, studying his face for a few beats before he looked back at Dax. “What is going on?”

“You tell me, Timmy.”

“It’s nothing,” Harry assured the both of them. “We don’t have to talk about Newquay. We’re here, a year later, Y/N’s…” But Harry trailed off, looking over at Y/N who had not said a single word since everything had gone down. She wanted to but she was unsure of how much she could say without making everything worse.

“Let’s talk about Newquay, Hazza, ‘cause it’s something I’ve been thinking quite a bit about, yeah?” Dax said, cocking his head to the side as he spoke. Y/N noticed Jessa making her way over, Grace looking up at everything happening like she had no idea what was going on. “Let’s talk about your trip to Newquay with uncle Timmy, ‘cause I cannot for the life of me remember you ever going to Newquay last summer.”

“With-“ Tim erupted, looking at Harry with narrowed eyes. “When did we-“

“-Dax, why do you-“

“-No,” Dax interrupted Harry. “I first found it sus that you hadn’t told me about your girlfriend, especially when you two had been talking for so long. For an entire year, and you didn’t tell me. I’ve known you my entire life, Haz, you would’ve told me right away.”

“What are you trying to say, Dax? Bloody spit it out, then,” Harry said, not caring as he usually did that Grace could hear him. “Go on. Say it.”

“It doesn’t add up, you have to admit that.”

“Didn’t you go up to Newquay on a lads trip, H?” Tim asked, studying some more like he had done this whole time. “We’ve… We’ve never gone to Newquay together.”

Harry and Y/N looked at each other, and it was as if they both knew at the very same time, that there was no point anymore. There was no way of getting out of this one when they had been reckless enough early on to tell two different lies. They had never thought it’d get this far, nor that their “first meeting” would be brought up in front of the few people they had told different stories to. However, their time was up, and there was no reason to hide it anymore.

“Right, uhm…” Harry’s eyes fell to the ground, taking a few moments to gather himself before he said. “Y/N and I didn’t meet last summer.”

Everyone was quiet for a few moments before Amir uttered a low, “What the fuck?”

“We met this summer. In June.”

Again, silence, however this time it was much heavier than the one time before. Everyone stared at Harry and Y/N in turn, not knowing what to think or to even believe this. Maybe they had done a fairly decent job of being a believable couple after all. Towards the end, Y/N didn’t even have to act.

“Harry, you’ve said you’ve had a girlfriend for quite some time now. Did you-“ Jessa shook her head, unable to wrap her head around this. Y/N felt the worst about the fact that she had to lie to Jessa, the kindest soul she had ever met. “Did you lie about that?”

Harry nodded.

“Why?”

“You were always so worried about me being by myself in the lighthouse. I was never lonely, b-but to get you off my back I told you I had a girlfriend just so you’d stop worrying.”

“I’d much rather you have told me the truth and let me worry than lying to me like this.”

Y/N could see the shame on Harry’s face and Y/N felt the same, balling her hands into fists as Jessa looked over at Y/N.

“Did you two plan this all along? What do you gain from pretending to be a couple like this?” Jessa asked.

“Nothi-“ But Harry cut himself off, realising that saying what he was about to say would be another lie. He had gained something from all of this. “I didn’t recognise her face when I first saw her. We thought it would be fun-“

“-Fun?!” Jessa exclaimed. “You thought lying to everyone would be fun?!”

“Nanay, we didn’t have any plans all summer-“

“-What’ll happen now then? Now that everyone knows? Will you continue to pretend?”

Harry looked over at Y/N, mouth opening slowly as if he wanted to say something. He was also about to when he heard a small voice speak first.

“But… But you wrote Y/N a song. You wrote Y/N The Y/N Song. And you kissed each other. Was that a lie too?”

Harry furrowed his brows a little, looking up at Y/N. “Nothing’s… Nothing’s actually been… Not really. Not for me.”

Y/N took a deep breath, speaking as she realised Harry was turning his body in her direction to speak to her directly. “I’m so sorry for all of this. We never meant to hurt anyone.”

“You haven’t hurt us, Y/N,” Fatima said, and Y/N’s heart sunk a little. She felt sick to her stomach at the mere thought of ever having lied to any of these people in front of her. People that had given her a piece of their heart, and she had given some of hers in turn, only to lie to them this whole time. “You haven’t hurt us, but we’re really…” Fatima shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t even bloody know. I would never have thought this.”

“Me neither,” Jo said, furrowing their brows as they looked between Harry and Y/N. “You two sure you’re not a serious couple?”

“Yes,” both of them answered at the same time, but maybe a little too quickly for Jo or many of the others to believe them.

“I can’t believe this,” Dax said, shaking his head. “I genuinely cannot believe you two have been faking it this whole fucking time.”

“Well…” Y/N started, making everyone look over at her, but she didn’t really know what to say. “That’s…” She glanced at Harry. “I…”

“I know,” Harry said, his voice almost a whisper. “I know, Y/N.”

“Hold on now,” Dax said. “I’d like to know when this all started.”

Ignoring Dax, Harry said, “Y/N, I-“ but he stopped himself, about to walk toward her but not knowing if it would be alright with her. “Y/N, I didn’t mean any of the things I said. I… I don’t think that way about you. You know I’d never-“

“-Y/N.” Bessie’s voice made Harry shut right up, and Y/N was glad it had. When she turned to face the older woman, she saw a pair of wide eyes and a look on her face that had never been there before, but Y/N knew what it meant right away. She looked back at Harry, opening her mouth as if to say she was sorry, but when Bessie repeated her name, she stopped herself. Instead, she turned on her heels and walked over to Bessie. The older woman took her hand and the two of them started walking in the direction of the exit. Once outside in the dark of night, Y/N suddenly felt the full effect of what was about to happen. Her parents. Dominic.

She heard someone call her name behind her, and though every fibre of her being begged her to turn around and look at Harry one last time, she could not do it. Bessie walked for the driver seat just as a pair of headlights came down the path to the farm. Y/N stilled completely.

“Bessie,” she said, stopping at the rear of the car.

Bessie looked up at the car and quickly started fumbling with her keys again. Y/N knew it was over just then. The white headlights, the black BMW, the massive engine. She knew that rumble of power anywhere she went, she’d recognise it till the day she died. She heard Bessie call her name, knew that she was starting up the car, but Y/N knew that no matter what, it would be too late. They were here. They were where they weren’t supposed to be. They had arrived where they weren’t supposed to.

Y/N walked toward the BMW as the lights were turned off. There was even more shouting behind her, Bessie turned her car off again. The driver seat door to the BMW opened, and Y/N felt nothing as she saw her father step outside. The same grey hair, same tall body, broad shoulders, and stern face and dressed in the most expensive clothes imaginable. She could recognise him right about anywhere. The second their eyes met, he nodded toward the backseat and Y/N halted. She might’ve realised that it was all over, but it hadn’t dawned on her what that would mean. Everything she had built in St Ives, the UCAT, her confidence and openness, it would all disappear the second she sat down in that car and came with them.

“No!”

She looked over her shoulder at where Harry was rushing towards them, fire in his eyes and hands balled into fists. Dread filled her at the thought of Harry being close to her family, to her father and Dominic – again.

“Harry,” she said, trying to warn him. “Harry, stop.”

“You’re not fucking taking her,” Harry said as he came to stand in front of the car. “You’re not.”

“Who is this?” Mr McKay asked, looking at Harry with such indifference it sent a chill up Y/N’s spine.

“Harry,” Harry said. “Like she just said.”

Harry’s tone was not appreciated by Y/N’s father and she instantly started shaking her head, begging Harry to just shut up. Another car door opened, and Dominic came out, looking over at where Y/N and Harry stood right in front of the car. He slowly started walking over to them, mouth set in a thin line as he eyed Harry up and down.

“No respects for your elders, lighthouse keeper?” Dominic asked, and though this would’ve normally had Harry cowering, but the man who stood beside Y/N now straightened his back and glared at Dominic as he came closer.

“No respect for twats, if that’s what you mean.”

Dominic halted a little and Y/N’s father visibly reacted to Harry’s words, neither of them believing what they just heard.

“Y/N, I hope you haven’t taken to learn from this scum while you’ve been here,” Dom said, looking between the two with dark eyes.

“I’ve taught her a couple of things, alright. Don’t think you’d quite appreciate hearing about those, though, especially not here-“ But Harry had barely gotten that last word out before Dominic was right in front of him, a grip of his tee shirt and slamming him right into Harry’s yellow van that stood right beside them. Harry groaned slightly at the impact, but quickly took a hold of Dominic’s shoulders, pushing him off him.

“Dominic,” Mr McKay warned. “Compose yourself.”

Dominic did not budge, though. He stood in front of Harry, daring Harry to do something or provoke him again.

“We are not here to take care of a low-life lighthouse keeper,” Mr McKay said. “Y/N, get in the car.”

“No,” Harry said, Dominic taking a step closer to him as to dare him to speak again. Harry did not seem scared in the slightest.

“Y/N.” The sound of her mother’s voice made Y/N stop breathing for a short second. She looked to the passenger side door, saw her mother there, and felt her hands start to tremble. The face that used to be so warm but turned stone-cold with the passing years, the eyes she used to look into every single day. A range of emotions ran through her, all of them conflicting and Y/N forgot herself completely in that moment. She forgot where she was, forgot who she was, forgot what was happening; all she cared about was the sound of her mother’s voice. It was as if she was four again, hearing her mother calling her name in a park, hearing her laughter, feeling her embrace.

“No!” Harry shouted, and Y/N didn’t notice till then that she had started walking towards the car, towards her mother. “You don’t get to take her away from us. She belongs here. This is her home.”

“Home?” Mr McKay asked, eyebrows raised in a sort of amused way, as if he didn’t believe a word of what Harry just said.

“Don’t talk to her,” Dominic said to Harry. “Don’t fucking look at her.”

Harry pushed Dominic further away from him, trying to get past him to Y/N. Y/N noticed then that Harry’s hands were shaking.

“Please, flower-“

Harry was cut short as Dominic took a grip of his tee shirt, dragging him backwards and away from Y/N. He fell back onto the ground, coughing and loosening the tee shirt from around his throat.

“Don’t touch him!” Y/N shouted. Instinctively, Y/N started for Harry, but Dominic stepped in her way, looking at her with that same indifferent glare that he had always held. She looked down at Harry where he coughed, getting up into a sitting position, sweat beading at his hairline. She saw him blinking hard a few times, as if he was dizzy and trying to focus. She didn’t even think before she tried to reach for him again, wanting to check if he was alright, to help him up, but she was stopped by Dom stepping in front of Harry as he struggled upright.

“Get in the car.” Y/N’s father’s voice was so demanding, so cruel, that Y/N couldn’t do anything but obey. She walked past her mother, not giving her a single glance or piece of her time. She heard someone repeating her name, saw others standing by the gate to the farm watching everything go down, afraid to move closer. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she opened the car door and got inside. The rest of them got in as well, and, before she knew it, they were driving off. Once again, she heard someone shouting her name, but she didn’t want to look over her shoulder and through the back window, afraid of seeing someone she cared about, afraid she would cry.

There she was. Right where she had dreaded this whole time she’d be. Not only was she now with her parents and Dom, but she was also in a car. It was almost impossible to escape. They had her where they wanted her to be. Nothing could be worse than this.

“Quite stupid of you to make us come all this way to get you,” her father said, making her cringe where she sat in the backseat. She could feel Dominic watching her. “What did you plan on achieving in bleeding Cornwall?”

“Nothing,” Dominic answered for her. “She clearly needs help. Maybe she should talk to someone when she gets home. There is clearly something wrong.”

“That’s not a bad idea, Dominic,” Mr McKay said. “You will look into that, won’t you, darling?” He looked to his left at Y/N’s mother who nodded her head slowly.

“Of course.”

“Maybe it is the fact that she has yet to move out of your house. I will arrange for us to move into a flat in London,” Dominic continued, getting his phone out.

“A building with a doorman, preferably in Central so everything’s comfortably close,” Mr McKay went on.

“Exactly, nothing but the best,” Dominic assured him, looking through some listings online. “What do you think of this one in Mayfair, Y/N?” He pushed his phone in her face, making her wince at the brightness in contrast to the darkness of the car.

“It’s nice.”

“Just nice? That’s a few million pounds of nice.”

“I don’t want to look at flats.”

Dominic stilled, taking the phone away from her and looking at her with narrowed eyes. She didn’t look back, instead kept her eyes steadily on the road ahead. It was clear the both of her parents in the front of the car had heard this as well, tensing up the second the words had left her lips.

“Why is that?”

“’Cause I’m not moving in with you, Dom.”

She could tell that Dominic strained himself from being violent. His hands worked against the leather seats, and he turned his phone off before putting it away again.

“Yes, you are, Y/N.”

“No.”

“We talked about this; you’re just confused.”

“I’m not confused, I’ve never been more sure about something in my life,” Y/N said. “I don’t love you. I will never love you.”

Silence settled in the car again and a slight breath left Dominic’s lips as he shook his head once, who was in total disbelief. “Is this something that lighthouse keeper has drilled into your brain?”

“He hasn’t drilled anything into my brain. If anyone’s made me aware of the fact that I can’t ever love you, it’s you.”

Dominic’s hand slammed against the car seat between them and he looked at her with such fury that, for the first time, Y/N was scared of what he would do to her. She looked over at him, trying to give off that completely indifferent look that he often had given her.

Yes, Y/N realised as she sat in that car, surrounded by the three people that had made her feel like pure shite her entire life; yes, she was exactly where she had dreaded to be this entire time. Yes, the entire summer she had been scared of being in this exact spot, because if she did find herself here, then it was all over. If she were here, she would have to go back to how things used to be. But she didn’t have to. These were people who actually loved her, in all their different ways, and they would never lay a hand on her. They would never hurt her. She had to choose her words carefully, be adamant, and maybe they would understand where she was coming from. Her mother used to try to do that, at least. She just had to speak their language, act like them, and maybe they would begin to respect her.

“I’m not coming back to Hampshire.”

Dominic just stared at her for the longest time. “Yes, you are.”

“No.”

“Yes, Y/N!”

Mr McKay held up his hand to silence the two in the back. “We need to talk about your grandfather’s business, Y/N. The one I’ve been running for the last few years. Dominic will take over after me, but your mother’s said, and I agree, you should know a few of the logistics-“

“-I’m not going back,” Y/N repeated, heart pounding as she stood up for herself. She had no idea where this was going or if they’d even listen to her, but she’d try. “Did you know,” Y/N started, sitting up a little straighter in her seat as she looked at each one in the car. “That I applied for the UCAT exam? I’m taking it in September.”

“What’s that?” Dominic asked.

“The exam you have to take in order to be accepted into medical school, and in my case, dentistry.”

The entire car fell silent, none of them really knowing what to say to that. This was exactly what her parents had told her not to do all those years ago, and yet here she was, about to do it.

“You’re not taking that exam, Y/N,” Mr McKay said, voice as firm as always.

“Yes, I am. I’ve signed up, I’ve been studying, I’m doing it.”

Dominic sighed. “We have had this chat multiple times, I’ll provide for us.”

“You’re not providing for us ‘cause I’m not going to fucking move in with you!” Y/N’s shout made her father push down on the break for a short time, shocked by her outburst. Y/N was even a little shocked herself. But very proud all the same. “This has been my dream-“

She stopped talking as she felt something vibrating in her purse. There weren’t many who had her number, and the only ones that would call now were those in St Ives. Taking her phone out, she saw Jessa’s name on her screen, and she forgot completely where she was. Jessa was calling her. Jessa… Without thinking, she answered the call, shocking even herself.

“Jessa?”

“Y/N.” That wasn’t Jessa’s voice.

“Gracie,” Y/N breathed. “What’re you- Why’re you calling?”

“Nanay, lolo, and uncle Timmy are driving people home.”

Y/N nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“Y/N, get off the phone, we need to talk about-“

“-Shut up, Dominic. Grace, why’re you calling? Why do you have Jessa’s phone?”

“She left it at home,” Grace said, taking a slight pause before she said after a sob. “And Harry’s not feeling well.”

Y/N’s heart plummeted so fast she felt dizzy. “What do you mean?”

“He fell over in the living room. He won’t answer me.”

Y/N didn’t know how to breathe. Nothing in that car mattered in those next seconds. Harry wasn’t feeling well, and by the sounds of it, he had fainted. Had the fall he’d taken outside really giving him a concussion of sorts?

“Did he hit his head?”

“I dunno. His eyes are open, he’s looking up at me.”

“Okay, keep him like that, I’ll be there soon.” With that Y/N hung up and put her phone away again. “You need to let me off.”

“What, no!” Dominic exclaimed. “You’re not going back there!”

“He needs my help!”

“Who? That fucking-“

“-Yes! The fucking lighthouse keeper needs my help! Now, let me off!” She took her seatbelt off, looking at her father in the front seat. “Dad.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“Y/N, you’re coming with us. Hampshire is where you belong.”

“It’s not.” She placed her hand on the door handle, waiting for him to slow down as he was about to turn down another street. “Let me go.”

“Stop being so childish.”

Y/N watched him slow down some more till she knew it wouldn’t be too dangerous. “Don’t follow me.”

“What-“

Y/N opened the car door and jumped out as her father slowed the car some. She heard her mother screaming in the car, Dominic shouting her name and the tires screeching. She rolled, feeling a sharp pain in her elbow and knee as they both had been the first to hit the asphalt. At one point, her head had come into contact with the concrete ground as well, but it had not been hard enough to make her dizzy. She coughed as the wind knocked out of her and her elbow knee hurt, maybe even bled, but she did not care at that moment. She got up and started running in the direction they had just driven, running faster than she ever had before. The pain of the fall, her bleeding knee, none of it mattered as she sprinted back to the farm. She didn’t hear the car behind her, didn’t hear her parents or Dom. Maybe they had listened to her. Maybe they realised that after everything, after what she’d just told them, she could not stay with them any longer. She was needed at the farm. Harry needed her help.

Time ceased to exist as Y/N sprinted onto the farm, seeing lights from all around the property that had yet to be turned off because of the abrupt ending. As she finally slowed down a bit, allowing herself to concentrate on her surroundings, she felt herself limping ever so slightly. Her head also hurt an awful lot, but that was the least of her concerns at that very second. The farm was eerily quiet in contrast to how high the volume had been earlier. Not a single soul stood outside, no sounds from inside the barn or the main house. It looked abandoned, which Y/N realised, it kind of was.

“Grace?!” Y/N shouted, throwing the gate open and jogging onto the property. “Gracie, where are you?!”

“Y/N!” Grace stood by the open door into the house, and as she saw Y/N running toward her, she ran back inside as well. Y/N reached the familiar house and looked left and right for Grace, only to find her sitting on the living room floor.

Out of everything Y/N had ever witnessed in her life, the sight before her was by far the worst. There was no blood, no sign of any sort of struggle or crime, but this sight made her so worried she felt like throwing up. Harry was laying on the living room floor, eyes hooded and looking at Grace who sat beside him. It didn’t look like he was able to move his head or any part of his body, his eyes only following the movement of what was happening around him. Y/N instantly knew what had happened.

“Harry,” she said, unable to control herself. She threw herself down beside him, taking his face in her hands. “Harry, can you hear me?”

He only looked at her, eyelids hanging low over his eyes and a thick layer of sweat coated over his entire body, especially visible over his cupid’s bow and hairline. With shaking hands and worry that made her dizzy, she tried to think of what to do. She instantly checked his pockets for his phone, in the end having to search through his back pockets where she fished it out at last. She unlocked it using his thumb and told herself not to focus on the fact that he had now changed his wallpaper to a picture of Y/N and Grace picking flowers. That could wait for another time. She could not cry now.

She clicked on the diabetes app, and, as she had seen him do multiple times before, she held it up to the signal patch on his upper arm. It made a sound as if it had registered, and when Y/N looked on his phone, the screen was lighting up red, showing 1,2. The optimal blood sugar levels would be anywhere between 4-7 mmol. This was dangerously low.

“Gracie, just talk to Harry, yeah? I’ll go get him something to eat. He needs to eat.” Y/N was off the floor the next second, sprinting back to the kitchen where she reached for the drawer she remembered Harry getting some chocolate from during Grace’s birthday back in June. There was only one chocolate bar left. She had no idea how much chocolate Harry would need. She took the Dairy Milk and ran back to the living room.

“Harry won’t answer me,” Grace said, her bottom lip wobbling. “What is happening to him, Y/N?”

“He’ll be fine, love.” Y/N tried to give Grace a reassuring smile, but by the look on the little girl’s face, it had not convinced her.

Y/N sat back down on the floor next to Harry, placing his head in her lap and making sure his neck wasn’t bent at an awkward angle so the chocolate would flow easily through his system. His eyes were on her face again, but she could tell he couldn’t focus on her. She wasn’t entirely sure if he even knew what was going on. He was heavy, unable to move a single muscle, laying as still as if he’d been placed in a coma. Y/N ripped the chocolate bar open and took a single square first, opening his mouth ever so slightly and smearing it on the inside of Harry’s lips.

“There we go,” she mumbled, stroking his cheek as she continued to run the chocolate over the tip of his tongue and lips. “Come on, baby.”

“What’s going on with him, Y/N?”

“Hypoglycaemia. His blood sugar is very low. You do know Harry’s a diabetic, yeah?”

Grace nodded her head.

“When his blood sugar gets very low and he goes unconscious like this, you can smear some chocolate on the inside of his lips and he’ll slowly start to wake up.” Y/N did not add the fact that if this did not work, they’d have to call 999. She felt Harry’s tongue move against the chocolate square that was slowly starting to melt away. “Since his blood sugar is so low, we need to get it to rise a little bit, and the sugar from the chocolate will help with that. At least till he is conscious again.”

As she felt his jaw begin to work ever so slightly, she took a hold of his shoulders, and, with all the strength she mustered, she brought him up and into a somewhat sitting position against one of the sofas. There she left the rest of the chocolate bar in his mouth, watching him while he chewed on it. He kept his eyes closed as he chewed, a drop of sweat rolling down his face as he finally swallowed. She brought him another one, smearing some of it on the inside of his lips till he slowly started to react and chew himself.

While he did that, Y/N got Harry’s phone out, signing into it again to check if there was any sort of change to his blood sugar. That’s when she noticed it. All blood drained from her body at the sight. The clock was 1:55am. Though part of her questioned why Grace was awake, the other part of her travelled to the lighthouse. Quickly, she brought the phone up to the patch again and checked. There was not a huge difference, but Y/N reckoned that as long as he was chewing himself and slowly getting more present, the blood sugar would rise with him.

Though it was Harry’s phone and though she could’ve easily fished out her own, she found Dax’s contact and pressed it, making sure Harry was doing alright and eating chocolate as she called.

“Haz?”

“Dax, it’s Y/N.”

There was a slight pause on the other end before Dax said, “Something happened?”

“Harry’s blood sugar is low; he’s gone into shock. Can you come here now and look after him and Grace while I go do the weather report at the lighthouse?”

Another pause, but now she heard deliberate movement on the other line. “Did you give him the glucagon injection?”

“No, I forgot to check if they had one.”

“You’ve got him eating summat, yeah? He’s not just unconscious?”

“Chocolate.”

“Alright,” Dax said, Y/N could hear the bang of a door on the other end. “I’ll be there in two.”

While they waited for Dax, Y/N made sure Harry was eating, checking his blood sugar just before Harry’s best friend arrived. When Y/N heard the car door slamming outside, she instantly got up from the floor, making sure Harry could eat on his own now before she met Dax in the foyer. Y/N made sure Grace was on her way to bed as Dax walked straight for the living room to sit next to Harry.

“Where’s Jessa?” Dax asked, looking about him as Y/N came over again, looking through the pockets of Harry’s denim shorts.

“Gracie said she was driving some people home.” Y/N got Harry’s car keys, her heart hammering fast as she realised what she was about to do. “She’ll be back soon, but I need to leave.”

When Y/N met Dax’s eyes, she saw a slight tinge of worry in them, and Y/N knew exactly what he was going through. It wasn’t only Harry he was worried about, but the fact that Y/N was going to the lighthouse to do a job that was not hers was beyond both of them. She focused her attention back on Harry, the sweat on his forehead had been there since she had arrived earlier. He was getting better. So, she reached up, swiping her thumb along his hairline and cheek, letting go of a shaky sigh. She did not know what would happen after tonight, but for the time being, she would do what he was incapable to. Now that a lot was happening all at once; now that the world was getting a bit too heavy to carry all by himself, she would carry his burdens for him.

Getting up, she walked back to the foyer and through the door, jogging for Harry’s yellow van. She swore she could hear someone saying her name as she left, but she did not turn around to see who. Once she was inside the van, she got the engine to start, and then drove off down the gravel path toward the main road. She drove as fast as she could, her heart galloping inside her chest as nerves started creeping closer. Everything that had happened earlier that night was catching up with her, and though she had no idea what any of it meant, she still felt the effect of it. The revelations in the barn, the song Harry had written for her, her parents showing up, Harry and Dominic, everything in the car, Harry’s shock, and now this.

She was shaking by the time she reached the lighthouse. She knew she would need more time to do her report, but she had no choice. She ran for the Stevenson Screen, not bothering to check the rain gauge as she knew there hadn’t been raining anything in days. She wrote the four different temperatures down on her phone so she would remember all of them correctly, and once that was done, she reset the minimum and maximum temperatures as Harry had shown her. Tip the minimum one vertically and shake the maximum one. That done, she racked her brain for what to do next, and remembered right away.

Looking up at the sky, she tried to make out any of the stars overhead, trying to determine if it was partly cloudy or cloudy. Determining that it was cloudy, she ran to the lighthouse. She remembered Harry telling her that the 3am report wasn’t a very detailed one compared to all the other ones, this was just the local weather. She didn’t have to take the supplemental and climate report into account on this one. Sprinting up the metal staircase, she threw herself down into the chair she had seen Harry in a few times this summer, looking at the clock on the wall that told her she had a mere five minutes left.

She quickly started to panic, but told herself to calm down. She was doing this for Harry. She could not fuck it up. If she did, she didn’t know what would happen, and that scared her more than anything else that had happened that night. And with that, she started writing down the different temperatures, whispering under her breath to make sure she got none of them wrong. Once the dew point was accounted for, she tried to remember the correct way to say all of it in.

“Clodgy is cloudy, 15, calm, and…” Y/N furrowed her brows, looking over the different terminology. She could not get this wrong. She just could not.

“Good morning. Lighthouse weather report Cornwall. Trevose.”

Y/N whimpered at the sound of the static, looking at the posters right before her and studying each one of them. She had to find the word she was looking for. She had to. What would she do if she couldn’t find it?

“Trevose is partly cloudy-“

“Fuck,” Y/N hissed under her breath, aware that the more she was stressing over this, the more she panicked, the less she would be able to concentrate on actually finding the word she was thinking of. She had heard Harry say it. It was just right there, at the tip of her tongue.

“Clodgy.”

Y/N’s hands were so clammy that she struggled holding the phone properly in her hand. Clearing her throat, heart beating out of her chest, she looked down at the paper before her. And there she saw it. Just as the weather had been the night before. The word she’d been looking for.

“Good morning,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she knew it was. “Clodgy is cloudy, 15, calm, and rippled.”

“Thank you. Pendeen.”

“Good morning. Pendeen is cloudy-“

But Y/N didn’t manage to listen to much else of the other reports because the second she put the phone back, she let out a long and heavy breath. Hiding her face in her hands, she slowly calmed down, telling herself that it was over. The worst was over. She had tons of time to wait and gather all the correct numbers and terminology for the 6am report. She wrote down the things she remembered and heard from the other lighthouse keepers, and once it was all done, she just sat there for a minute, thinking about everything and thinking about nothing.

Slowly, she got up, feeling absolutely drained of energy, and slowly walked upstairs to the bedroom where her and Harry had slept last week. Upon entering, she felt a rush of memories wash over her, overwhelming her in maybe the worst and the best way imaginable. She sat down on the bed, thinking to herself that she had no idea what would happen now. Did she leave? Did she stay? Would she have to contact her parents to talk about everything? Did Harry want to talk to her again? She did not know, but night had many hours, and it had only just begun.

About to lay her purse down on the desk beside the bed so she could get a small hour of sleep – that she secretly knew she would not be getting – she realised she put her belongings down on something that was already laying there, and had in the process of this, managed to pull it off the desk. It hit the floor with a thud, making Y/N jump. She put her purse a bit further away and it was not till she drew her hand back that she realised it was a book. A book. On his desk. In this room. But… Harry did not read. He had said as much himself.

She got up from the bed again and picked it up, her breath stolen completely away from her as she turned it around. The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho.

“What’s your absolute favourite and least favourite book?”

She looked at him. “Ever?”

“Ever.”

Y/N inhaled, bringing her hand to her chin as she narrowed her eyes in thought. “My favourite has got to be Uses of the Erotic by Audre Lorde, and my least favourite is The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. Though, Uses of the Erotic is an essay, really, but it’s the most profound text I’ve ever read.”

Her eyes began to sting at the memory, the beginning of summer seeming so incredibly far away yet also feeling like yesterday. Memories that felt raw, new, but also like you had held onto them for years, were the ones that meant the most to you, Y/N realised. The moments in your life that were so profound that they just stuck with you, no matter how much time passed, and you’d still remember them with perfect precision.

Turning around, she looked at the shelf behind her, seeing a few other books there, one of them being the essay collection of Audre Lorde that contained Uses of the Erotic. With it was a collection of other books, all with the same author. Virginia Woolf.

“You never told me who your favourite author is.”

Y/N met his eyes and, for the first time since she woke up, actually registered what Harry was saying. “Virginia Woolf.”

Harry smiled a little, his dimples showing. His right one was a little more prominent, Y/N realised. “So, her.” He nodded down at the book in Y/N’s lap. “What’s so good about her? Is that your favourite of hers?”

Y/N smiled a little at the questions, looking down at the book before meeting Harry’s eyes again. “Think Mrs Dalloway-“ Y/N showed Harry the cover to tell him that was the book she was reading right now. “Might be my favourite, yeah.”

“Why?”

“It’s just so-“ Y/N stopped herself, looking at Harry for a few seconds before shaking her head and chuckling some. “I won’t bore you with book talk again.”

Harry smiled. “I don’t mind.”

Y/N could not hold back her tears this time, quickly wiping away the few that had made it down to her jaw. Why he had bought all these books when she owned them all, when she had read them all, when he didn’t even like to read, she had no idea. Right that second, she could neither draw any coherent conclusion nor find it in herself to want one. She just sat down in the chair by the desk in the lightkeeper bedroom, looking at the book in her hand and the other ones he kept on the shelf, all inside a room he refused to allow anyone entrance to. Another tear rolled down her cheek, she didn’t bother to wipe this one away.

LAST UPDATE: Sunday, 22 November, 9PM GMT! 🤧

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A HUGE thank you to my amazing and beautiful beta readers! 🌊 @aileenacoustic 🌊 @bopbopstyles 🌊 @fromyourstrulyh 🌊 @harrys-shrooms 🌊 @honeydearly 🌊 @sunflowers-styles 🌊 @watermelonsuger 🌊 @withallthelove-a 🌊

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