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#dividers by saradika
heliiacus · 26 days
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"Tell me if this gets boring," you say demurely, thumbing, almost nervously, at the edge of the page. You can feel Armin's weight against you; a warm, large shoulder pressed into yours, his side so close to yours it is almost making you flush.
He'd tilted his head to read with you, leaning it on your shoulder. You tried to tilt the book for him, but he simply hummed disapprovingly - not unlike the hum he makes right now.
"Just one more chapter," he says, voice soft and quiet, and as he presses himself closer to you, you know it will be at least two more.
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tag list: @arlerts-angel @supersupper @levistealeaf @sukunascrustyfinger @nilaaaas @chiinni @dilfkentolover @arminarlertssword @bel-https @layla240 @katestrophes @er3nscottonpicker @siiyoko @ryoiii @lemontrees-things @arminarlertspersonalnurse @dvrkfverie @girlybelle @blvewave
requests are dearly appreciated, darlings 💗
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Note
I love your writing so much!!!
Could you maybe write where hozier and you just get engaged or maybe finally get married and its the most sweetest thing? Maybe smutty??
Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x gn!reader
Summary: Andrew plans out his proposal to you, meticulously laying it out to make sure it’s perfect. And it is.
Content Warning: language (slightly), mostly just a diabetic amount of fluff, use of y/n (i tried to avoid it but it was necessary here)
A/N: oh my god hey, thank you for the request! I made this fic centred more so around them getting engaged and around the proposal, I hope that’s okay. Also, this is just tooth ache sweet fluff, the smut would’ve made it too long. Maybe I can write a part two? 👀
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Hydrangeas. You notice the hydrangeas sitting at the dining table, they grab your attention since they are, after all, your favourite flowers but you almost never get them to put up in the house.   
“Andrew?” You call out to him, smiling at the thought that he bought them for you.
“Yeah, hun. Oh shit you weren’t supposed to see those” he laughs trying to cover up his complete lack of subtlety.
“Did you get them for me?” You press them against your chest trying hard to suppress the stupid grin spreading over your face.
“No I got them for the poltergeist in the attic. Of course I got them for you” he crosses the room making his way to your side, he held your waist in his arms pressing a kiss atop your head.
“Why though? I mean it’s just a Wednesday” you couldn’t help but be a little surprised. Andrew loved serenading you, whispering the most heart flutteringly beautiful words in your ears and even cooking for you, he treated you like you had descended from the heavens. But flowers were new, it felt nice though the sheer surprise of it all.
“I just wanted to get them for you, I never get you flowers and I know you don’t particularly like receiving them but I saw them today and I thought if you” he gazes down at you, stroking your cheek with his free hand.
“Andrewwww, thank you they’re lovely. I love it” you’re usually a very confident person and you pride yourself in that, but things like these make you bashful to no end. You bury your head in his chest, breathing in his scent. Always smells like home.
You feel his chest echo with his laugh, “oh come on it’s nothing” he pulls your head away, cupping the sides of it to plant a soft kiss on your lips.
“I should find a vase for them, clearly you’ve done a terrible job at hiding them” you tease.
“Okay okay, I wasn’t expecting you to come in here. I do pride myself in my secrecy, thank you very much” he chuckles as you entered the other room to look for a vase.
Shit. That wasn’t supposed to happen. The flowers were supposed to be a surprise, well not the flowers per se but they were supposed to aid the process of revealing a bigger surprise, the ring. He had been feeling the comforting weight of the ring in his breast pocket for a few days now, not trusting himself to keep it anywhere but right next to his heart. After months of thoroughly coming up with all the possible ways he could propose to you, he has finally crafted a plan. Meticulously going over every detail, to have it be perfect. Today was the day. He was going to ask you to be his. Forever, if you’ll have him. 
He had unequivocally been yours since the day you started your courtship, but there was nothing he desired more than to be your husband. It made sense, it made perfect sense. 
And he wanted to you to feel the depths of his emotions. How every fibre of his felt intrinsically connected to yours. It had to be perfect, nothing short of it. But he had already fucked up, the flowers.
It’s fine, maybe he can get the ceiling covered in hydrangeas instead. A bouquet? What was he thinking in the first place, it had to be more special than that. He had called up all your friends and his to help him set up the house to look like a dream. After all he might be fulfilling one of his that night.
But he didn’t want anyone to be there when he proposed to you, he wanted to it to be the both of you against the world. He often thought of love that way. Especially the kind of pov e the two of you shared. It was intimate, tender and he wanted to uphold that. They had all agreed only if he promised to call them right after you said yes. If you said yes.
You were surprisingly unaware of the grand plans he had orchestrated. Your friends, back home, painstakingly trying to bring his vision to life. They kept him updated, sending him pictures through your dinner. He was so jittery but he tried to portray himself as if this was just another dinner date, after all he wanted dinner to be just as special. Afterwards, both of you walked a round the canal, hand glued together and laughter echoing through the air. It was lovely, like it always was with him.
Once both of you were back home, you turned the key in the doorway to let the two of you in. As you swung the door open, the sight that met you eyes was of your living room drenched in an aureate glow from the hundreds of flickering candles set up across the length of the room. Before you could take it all in, your eyes travelled up to see bunches of hydrangeas hanging from the ceiling in what looked like another roof altogether. You could see pictures of the two of you hanging in different corners, your first date, your first trip together, the first you went to show. Years and years of beautiful memories creating the timeline of your love. Leading to the centre of the room, where on a tiny coffee stand stood the bouquet you received in the morning, in the ceramic vase you placed it in. Your mouth agape, as you walked further into the room, standing at the centre of it, Andrew following closely behind you. His breath was hitched in his throat, did you like it? Was it perfect? He held his breath, as he let you take it all in.
You turned around to look at Andrew, his face beaming and eyes soft. 
He walked closer to you and then stopped right before he could be at arms length. Slowly sinking down to one knee. Oh. Oh. He was proposing. You felt your eyes well up with tears and as your hands flew to your mouth.
“Hey. Y/N Y/L/N, you are the light of life. A beacon of brilliance in what I thought was unbridled darkness. You are a force of nature. The way you carry yourself from your boundless kindness, enchanting smile, your ridiculous sense of humour, your ability to be the heart and soul of every connection you form suffice to I’ve been completely whipped. I love you. I love how smart you are, how you care so much, how you snort when you laugh, that mole on your chin, your incredibly lame puns, how steadfast you are in your resolve. And more selfishly, I love you because you make me feel like the luckiest man to walk the earth. I used to think that I needed someone to feel whole, you made me realise that I am already whole. I’m so grateful to have you, beyond anything I could ever articulate into a song let alone a mere speech. You inspire me to do my best and to be my best. You’ve helped my hone my craft simply by being you. By existing. Alongside me, behind me, leading me. And I love you, for all of it and more. So much so, that I want to spend the rest of our time on this godforsaken planet with you. Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I. I want to be in your light till death do us part, even then no grave can hold my body down because I know I will always crawl back home to you. Thank you for all that you are and all that you have been. Saying I love you is an understatement but it’s what my feeling are down to their most distilled form. I love you and I promise to love you till you let me. Please.
Let me.
Make me the most fortunate soul by marrying me. Will you marry me?”
If it wasn’t for the way you clearly looked down at him right now you would’ve believed that you had become a puddle on the ground. He was crying, you were crying. Your chest filled with the kind of love that cannot be caged, it was as if your heart was gonna burst through the walls of it’s enclosure and nestle itself in his hands. Because that’s where it belongs. You fall to your knees, at the same level as him now.
“Yes. Yes yes yes yes Andrew” 
You fling yourself into his arms as both of you fall backwards. 
“Really?” It’s as if he couldn’t believe it. Tears now freely flowing down his cheek, vanishing in his beard’s auburn forest.
“Yes you idiot, I love you. So much. More than can I ever fully comprehend. I love you, I want to be with you. Now and forever”
Before you can even catch a breath, you feel his lips crash into yours. Lifting you up off the ground, as his lips engulfed yours. You felt the saltiness of both your tears in the kiss, as he grabbed your face and tasted you as if he was man starved. I love you. I love you. Both of you kept reciting as if it was hymn into each other’s mouths. The intimacy of the kiss was unparalleled and the passion was palpable. You felt his hands cling to your every curve, as if he thought this was dream and he was desperately trying to hold onto it. But it was real, as real as the green hues of his eyes and the mole on your chin. You could do this forever you thought, you are going to be doing this forever.
I loved writing this so much, I just love telling people how much I love them so writing his little proposal speech was really fun. Thank you for the request anon, I hope I could do it justice!
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rypnami · 2 months
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boggart headcanons
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this has been rotting my brain for a whiiiile. another completely unoriginal idea but this is my take on the HL npcs’ boggarts. spoilers if you haven’t finished the game!
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sebastian: some say his boggart would take the shape of his uncle, or his uncle’s tombstone. in my opinion though, it would turn into a dementor. although what happened to him throughout his childhood was traumatic and horrible, his uncle can’t hurt him anymore. a dementor, however, certainly could. it’s a manifestation of his guilt over his actions and his fear of being sent to azkaban.
ominis: how does a boggart frighten someone who can’t see it? through sound. there are several things it might make itself sound like to scare ominis. perhaps his aunt before she died. the sound of the scriptorium door opening, mc/sebastian getting crucio’d, his father’s voice, his siblings’ voices… that poor boy has so much trauma that a boggart would have a hard time choosing.
imelda: this one seems very clear to me. the boggart would appear before her as the captain of the holyhead harpies, telling her she didn’t make the team. after all that work, after everything she tried to hard to achieve, she fell short of what she wanted more than anything. that’s scary. she fears failure above all, and that’s the epitome of failing for her.
garreth: i headcanon garreth as a very family-oriented person. we know he has at least 1 younger sister, however knowing the weasleys there are probably several more younger and older siblings. we also know that he loves potions experimenting and often has other people test them out. i think his boggart would appear as something awful happening to one of his family members as a result of trying one of his potions. two things he loves coming together and causing harm is probably the scariest thing to him.
leander: his boggart might he something kind of silly to everyone else. he definitely fears failure, loneliness, and being looked at as less-than. there’s a throwaway line he says about how his siblings are older, smarter, more competent etc so i think above all he fears being a disappointment. his boggart would most likely be his parents telling him he’s a failure, that he’s brought shame to his family, and things of that nature.
andrew: we don’t know much about andrew, but i think he’s the kind of person who has anxiety. i think he takes his house placement very seriously and fears letting down his friends/the people around him. his boggart would probably be his close friends or family members expressing that he had failed them in a big way and that they didn’t want anything to do with him anymore.
amit: through the game we see amit as someone who is somewhat timid but can be incredibly brave when he has to be- main example is the goblin mine quest. so i think in the aftermath his boggart would be a goblin, perhaps even ranrok himself, after the trauma he definitely sustained during that quest.
poppy: her boggart would either been one of/both of her parents, or something bad happening to highwing. we know she must have a lot of (likely unresolved) trauma from growing up in a poacher camp, especially with who her parents are, and after what happened with highwing in the high keep quest, she’s probably also incredibly worried about her closest (creature) friend being harmed again.
adelaide: no one talks much about her but i think she’s really sweet okay 🥺 anyway, if she were to see a boggart it would probably manifest as her uncle dying. she’s already lost her parents and, presumably, has no family left besides her uncle. save her she’s just so cute :((
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also my mcs just for fun :D
jamie: a werewolf. after his mother’s death there is nothing in the world that will make him panic faster. a lot of his fear of werewolves also comes from the residual guilt that he was somewhat responsible for her death. perhaps the boggart would even switch into his mother’s werewolf form..
jack: definitely turns into his father. after everything he went through, especially as a child, nothing scares him more than his father. even tho he did kill him so there’s no true threat anymore. most of it is psychological torment now :D
ollie: when he was small, his boggart would have taken the shape of a spider. now, it takes the form of a dementor- he’s scared of them taking one of his dads away. although he’s still deathly terrified of spiders/acromantulas so perhaps it changes back and forth sometimes.
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peachdues · 8 months
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PHANTASMAGORIA
NSFW CUT SCENE
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A/N: enjoy this cut smut scene from Phantasmagoria (Part III) (post-kitchen make-up).
I apologize that I don’t have new fics/requests ready, but I hope y’all are okay with me dropping some unreleased drafts I have saved on my phone
If you’ve sent in a request for the 2K event, please know I’m not ignoring you! I’m just exhausted and slammed at work rn and I don’t have the mental capacity to write something new at the moment. It’s 7:30 PM my time, and I JUST got home after having been in the office since 6 this morning. Bear with me!
CW: 18+ • MDNI • explicit sexual content • 69’ing
READ ALL THREE PARTS OF PHANTASMAGORIA HERE (COMPLETED).
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Y/N tried so hard to remain upright as she bucked against his face, but the sensation became too much, and she found herself falling back against his legs.
Sanemi didn’t seem to mind, his arms remaining tightly locked around her lower hips as he continued to rock his face against her core, her thighs shuddering around his head at the scrape of his stubbled jaw against her heated flesh. 
She turned her head and was surprised at how close Sanemi’s cock was to her face, standing thick and tall as it bounced proudly against his abdomen with every flex of his stomach muscles and thighs as he continued to eat her out like she was his final meal. 
Y/N’s lips went dry as her eyes took in the leaking, red tip of him, so demanding and eager, and yet he’d been utterly content to ignore his own need in favor of satisfying her own. 
She struggled against his iron-like grip on her hips, trying desperately to turn so she could take him fully into her mouth, but he was too lost in her cunt to realize she didn’t want to get away; she wanted him, wanted to pleasure him just as much as he insisted on pleasing her. 
“Sanemi,” she whined, trying to turn once more, but his arms only tightened around her, a growl of warning reverberating from his chest. 
Desperate, Y/N leaned as close to his aching cock as she could and stuck her tongue out, just managing to graze the side of it before she had to pull away.
It was enough. At the first caress of her wet tongue against him, she felt Sanemi freeze beneath her, his tongue momentarily pausing mid-thrust into her core as he realized what she was trying to do. 
The grip around her hips loosened enough so she could turn, and Y/N rotated herself, though Sanemi’s head remained poised between her thighs. 
At the first brush of her lips against his angry, leaking tip, Y/N felt Sanemi tense, his abdomen clenching tight as she dipped down, taking half of his cock into her mouth with a sigh. 
He moaned into her cunt, as her tongue caressed against the side of his shaft, his feet shifting beneath her to plant firmly on the bed as he began to thrust up into her mouth. Y/N’s eyes watered as his tip threatened to hit the back of her throat with every push into her mouth, but she forced herself to remain relaxed, humming as she let her tongue work his shaft, her cheeks hollowing as she gave him another strong suck. 
His arms, wrapped around her lower hips, tightened around her lower hips as Sanemi pressed his face flush against her cunt, groaning, and the vibrations against her tender folds causing her eyes to roll back into her skull. 
The pair licked and sucked at one another, seemingly in competition to see who could make the other cum first. Y/N’s head bobbed faster down Sanemi’s length before she pulled off with a teasing pop! She pumped her hand up and down his cock, heavy and slick with her saliva as she suckled on his tip, pulling back slightly  as Sanemi began trying to sheathe himself back into her mouth, frustrated that she kept evading him.
If she thought she was making him more desperate, she was correct; except, her white-haired lover decided to take such frustration out on her poor cunt. Moving one hand from where it helped keep her hips locked squarely against her face, Sanemi brought his fingers to her lips and spread them wide, his tongue flattening against her and pulsing as he scooped her juices into his greedy mouth. 
Y/N’s cry of pleasure was muffled by a sharp buck of Sanemi’s hips as he thrust his cock back into her mouth, her throat locking as she gagged, though she managed breathe through her nose to avoid pulling back off him. 
Not that she thought Sanemi would let her if she tried — he’d moved one of his broad hands from where it sat at her hip down her back, splaying firmly across her lower shoulders to hold her in place. Given the veracity with which he feasted on her core, Y/N reckoned he wouldn’t have noticed her squirming even if she’d tried. 
Every stroke of his tongue against her made her thighs twitch around his head, and Y/N found it difficult to keep bobbing herself up and down the thick length of Sanemi’s cock, instead holding him in her mouth while she moaned and shuddered against him.
Drooling around him, Y/N managed to move her hand to cup Sanemi’s balls, and she marveled at how full he was as her tongue stroked him. The thought that he would soon be emptying himself inside of her made her thighs clench even tighter in anticipation, even as she whined against him, begging for release.
The scar-speckled man beneath her removed his hand from her back, apparently convinced that she would not try and move off him. Rather than returning to his hold on her hip, Sanemi’s rough, warm fingers replaced his tongue at her entrance, as he slid them into her while his lips and teeth closed around her clit and gave her a harsh suck. 
At the first brush of his fingers against that spongy, roughened patch of flesh deep within her walls, Y/N shattered. 
Her scream was little more than a gurgled groan as her head dropped forward, causing her to take the rest of Sanemi’s cock down her throat. Against the vibrations of her moans and tge sudden way her throat constricted around him, Sanemi suddenly erupted in her mouth, his cum spurting hot and fast down her throat as he groaned deeply into her cunt. 
Y/N shook against him as she rode out the final waves of her pleasure. Finally, Sanemi’s arm around her waist loosened and his head fell back against the bed. A moment later, Y/N pulled her mouth off Sanemi’s length, though he was still hard, and she dropped her head against his thigh as she caught her breath. 
The room was quiet for a moment, disturbed only by the sounds of their soft panting, as both came down from their highs.
After a moment, Sanemi spoke, and Y/N nearly rolled her eyes at the smugness in his tone.
“I win.” 
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yeowangies · 10 months
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Masterlist
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Last updated March 2024.
Ongoing chaptered fics
Dangerous [Vegeta x reader] Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV | ?
Blood Stains [Raditz x reader] Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV | Chapter V | Chapter VI | Chapter VII | Chapter VIII | Chapter IX | Chapter X | Chapter XI | Chapter XII
Finished chaptered fics
Close Encounter [Raditz x reader] Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV | Chapter V
Edge [Vegeta x reader] Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III
One Shots
Flowers and Bubbles [Goku x reader] Attitude, Dream of Mine [Goku x reader] Feeling lucky [Goku x reader] Childish Plot [Goku x reader x Vegeta] Burning Desire [Raditz x reader] Want You [Vegeta x reader] False God [Turles x reader] Submissive [Raditz x reader | Vegeta x reader | Goku x reader] In the garden [Raditz x reader] The Ceiling [Goku x reader] Invader [Raditz x reader] Puffiness [Raditz x reader] Heavenly [Goku x reader]
Kinktober 2023
Powerful [Goku x reader] Ambition [Vegeta x reader] Offering [Broly x reader] Challenge [Vegeta x Goku x reader] Full Moon [Raditz x reader] Good Morning [Goku x reader] Hideous Heart [Vegeta x reader] Drunk [Vegeta x Raditz x reader] Humane [Goku x reader] Cheeky [Goku x Broly x reader] Exposed [Turles x reader]
Requests
Raditz x reader Trunks x reader Bardock x reader Vegeta x reader Gohan x reader
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sweetrebelpersona · 1 month
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Goals for Spring 2024:
Live my life without being stressed
Study as well as relax
Take walks to keep active
Read a few books I've already read
Don't let perfectionism get to me
Play on my mother's iPad Pro when she's at work
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Into the Breach (Part 3 of 4)
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In which Théodred has a catastrophic encounter with Théoden and Gríma and makes a fateful decision in response. Catch up on parts one and two if needed. This is all my collective attempt to remind the world that Théodred was not just an off-page plot device to service Éomer’s storyline but an actual person with his own feelings and plans and fears and hopes. Also, as a reminder, the guy on the left below is my Théodred (drawn by the lovely Valeria Salo @valerisalo, bonus points to anyone who can identify who the reference guy was!) and, as in the books, he's in his 40s and unmarried (though currently engaged to an age-appropriate partner). Part 4 is next week.
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The inside of the great hall was in hushed contrast to the bustle of the streets outside. Mild morning light shone down from the high windows below the eaves and dust motes floated in the few rays strong enough to mark themselves across the colored stone floor. The fire in the main hearth had not yet been fully banked, and the air still had a cool chill. No voices or footsteps could be heard, but at the far end of the hall, under an embroidered tapestry of Eorl the Young, was a large gilded chair, and in that chair sat the shrunken, hunched figure of an elderly man with his eyes cast downward. Théodred ran to him and knelt at his side.
“Father!” Théodred swallowed down his horror at the sight of Théoden’s wizened appearance. If anything, Éomer had understated the dramatic change to have taken place since Théodred had last been here three weeks before. He reached out to cover one of his father’s hands with his own. The fingers under his palm were cold, the skin papery. “Father, can you look at me?”
Slowly, the old man looked up. His blue eyes were cloudy, and he stared for several moments before a light of recognition kindled deep within. “Théodred. My son.” His voice was low and hoarse, and his last word lilted upward at the end as though it was a question.
Théodred smiled and nodded. “Yes, father. It’s me. I’m sorry that I’ve been away, but I’m here now. I’m here to help you.” He rested his other hand gently on his father’s arm, shuddering at the new frailty of that once mighty limb.
“He asks for no help.” A cold, flat voice came from Théodred’s left, and he turned to see Gríma approaching. His face was stern and pinched, his gaze keen and disapproving. “And it is insubordinate of you to even suggest that he needs it. But by your very presence in this hall, you have already shown yourself to be one who has no regard for rules and authority.” He shot a disgusted look at Háma. “Unless the doorwarden here has neglected to inform you of your father’s latest order.
Théodred rose to his feet but kept his hand firmly on Théoden’s arm. “Your fight is with me, not Háma. I have seen your order, but I don’t accept it. And I will not, unless I hear it from my father’s own lips.” He looked down again at Théoden, whose eyes had drifted back to the floor and gave no outward reaction to what was transpiring around him.
“He expressed his wishes to me, and I faithfully recorded them.” Gríma circled around Théodred slowly, a wary eye on him at all times. “He wouldn’t have stamped the order otherwise.”
“Why don’t you let him speak for himself?” Théodred’s words came out louder than he intended, and his voice echoed in the otherwise silent hall.
“There is no need,” Gríma shot back. “It’s a lawful order. Just because you don’t like it doesn’t make it any less valid.”
A spark of fury lit inside Théodred, and the heat of it spread quickly to his face and limbs. He flexed his hand, feeling an itch in his fingertips that would only be satisfied by the grip of his sword. But even as his fury rose, another voice inside him cautioned against rash action. Losing his temper would not help his father, the voice insisted, nor would it convince Gríma to be more reasonable. And unrestrained violence against an unarmed opponent was not his way. It was not who he was.
He yielded to the voice and took several deep breaths to dampen his anger, forcing back all of the instincts that thrummed through him to settle this matter quickly by fist or blade. He spoke instead through firmly gritted teeth. “And on what grounds have you determined that my presence here is impermissible?”
Gríma came to a stop behind Théoden’s right shoulder, his elbow resting casually on the back of the throne. Théodred eyed that elbow, wanting nothing more than to swat it away like a nuisance fly. “If you must know, the king has determined that you are not to be trusted. That you scheme to usurp his place–taking over his duties, putting yourself into roles and positions that are rightfully his, always pushing for conflict with Isengard just so you can pursue battlefield glory for yourself. Next, I expect you will begin to tell the people not to listen to him but rather to you. Indeed, that is exactly what you’ve just done by convincing this guard”—he gestured vaguely in Háma’s direction—“to defy the king’s orders for your own benefit. That is the first step to open revolt. The king has been generous only to ban you from the hall when what you really deserve is banishment from the kingdom. That would have been my recommendation, and it may yet come to be.”
Théodred’s eyes flashed. “You must think me stupid to believe that my father would have such thoughts. He knows that everything I do is in service of him and of Rohan. I have no desire to be king, and I would happily spend the rest of my life as nothing but his heir if the gods would only let him live that long.” He knelt down again at Théoden’s side and searched his father’s face for some further sign of recognition or understanding. “Father, please speak to me. I will do anything you ask.”
Gríma snorted. “Now you claim obedience, but when have you ever been so? Your father has made it clear that he doesn’t want an open confrontation with Saruman, and yet we hear regular reports of you engaging with forces of Isengard in the West-mark.”
Théodred looked up sharply. “And what would you have me do? Sit back and watch as Saruman takes our land acre by acre, uncontested? I start no quarrels with Isengard, as directed, but I will defend our people when they are threatened and attacked. That has always been the policy of this kingdom.”
“Well, current policy is under review. And I expect you will hear changes announced soon.”
Théodred gaped at him in disbelief. “That would be madness. You might as well hand Saruman everything from the Isen to Helm’s Deep if you insist on such foolishness.”
“I advise you to watch both your tone and your words,” Gríma snapped. “These are the decisions of your father–of your king–that you are castigating. Your disagreement is irrelevant.”
“My father and I had no disagreement before you insinuated yourself so deeply into this court!” Hot anger coursed through Théodred’s veins, and his will to hold it back strained and frayed dangerously.
“Is that so, my lord?” Gríma nearly spat Théodred’s title at him. “Your view of the past is clouded by your desire to paint yourself as a hero. Because I seem to recall many times when you and your father were at odds. Or have you forgotten Cynewine?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Wormtongue.”
“I know that your refusal of that match cost your father an important political alliance and cost you an opportunity to do your only real job of producing another heir. And for what? Your own foolish romantic hopes? That sounds less like obedience and more like self-indulgence to me. And those years of self-indulgent waiting have left you now betrothed to a woman who is well past her prime and will be lucky to give you a child of any kind, let alone the son we require. No one could call that respect for your father’s wishes.”
In an instant, Théodred’s fury erupted into the open, tearing through his body like flames through a field of dried grass. Every pained moment of worry for his father, his cousins, his soldiers, his country now poured out of him in pure rage, ignited by this casual cruelty aimed at the woman he loved most in the world. The restraining voice in his mind vanished, and he let out a roar as he jumped to his feet.
Gríma’s mouth dropped open in surprise and he attempted to scuttle backwards, but in two quick steps Théodred had already reached him, catching hold of his shirt and looming over him with his sword poised in the air above his head. Gríma shrank down, all of his bluster and haughtiness gone, and waited for the inevitable blow to fall, but another arm quickly intruded between the two men.
“Théodred!” Háma, wild-eyed and red faced, pushed his way in front of the prince, forgoing all sense of protocol in his urgency. “Théodred, you don’t want to do this. At least, not here. Not in this place, and not in front of him.” His eyes looked back to Théoden.
Théodred hesitated, following Háma’s glance but maintaining his hold on Gríma. The prospect of dishonoring the rule of his father or the sanctity of the king’s hall gave him immediate pause. But had he not already allowed this nonsense with Gríma to go too far? If he gave up this opportunity to end it, he might not get another.
Háma read the conflict in Théodred’s eyes and put a calming hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’ll find another way. One that is worthy of you.” With his other hand, he gently extracted Gríma’s shirt from Théodred’s grip, and Gríma stumbled backwards in a rush to put distance between himself and Théodred’s sword.
Théodred slowly lowered his weapon and eased backward a step or two of his own. He felt at once that he had done the right thing and also that he had made a terrible mistake, and the uncertainty tore at his mind. Perhaps both could be true at the same time. But now he had made a choice–the choice of honor–and he would stick to it.
His mind raced through options of what to do next. Something was deeply wrong in this hall, worse than he had imagined and still beyond his understanding. If only he could speak to his father alone, maybe then he could truly see what was happening and how to fix it. But first he would need his father to put Gríma in his place, to disavow any notion that Théodred was to be kept from his rightful place at the king’s side. He looked up and fixed Gríma with a cold stare.
“We have still between us the issue of my right to be here. I tell you now that I do not and will never accept your word on this matter. Only my father alone could stop me from serving him as I see fit.”
Gríma returned the stare for several long moments before his manner abruptly changed, as though he had reached some important new decision in his mind. His lips curled into an unctuous smile, and he took several slow steps in Théodred’s direction with his hands spread out plaintively before him. “Well, it pains me deeply, my lord, that you believe I would ever be dishonest, particularly on a matter of such importance. But if you require it, then by all means, let’s just ask your father directly. Shall we?” He bent down next to Théoden and put a hand on his shoulder. The touch seemed to immediately rouse the king from his daze. He sat up straighter and looked expectantly at Gríma.
“My lord, you and I spoke at length this morning about your distrust of your son and your desire to see him refused entry to the hall. And yet, your son does not believe this to be true. He stands before you even now.” His voice was cajoling, as one who speaks to a recalcitrant child, and he tightened his grip on the king’s arm. “Tell him, my lord. Tell him that he is no longer welcome.”
Théoden turned his head slowly toward Théodred, who dropped again to his knees before his father and seized both of his hands. He looked imploringly into Théoden’s rheumy eyes but struggled to find the light of affection there.
Théoden drew a slow breath and spoke, still hoarse but clearer and louder than before. “I do not trust my son, and I do not wish to see him again. That is my final word on the subject.”
Théodred felt the sting of those words like a slap across the face. He sank further down toward the floor, his father’s hands slowly slipping from his grasp, and heaved in a few ragged breaths. Somewhere to his side he heard the laughter of Gríma and the indignant response of Háma, but they sounded muffled and distant. He stared down at the red stone beneath his knees, unwilling to blink and send the tears that had sprung to his eyes sliding down his cheeks.
“This way, my lord.” A strong hand wrapped around his elbow and pulled him to his feet. Háma guided him gently but firmly away from the gleeful triumph of Gríma and from the shell of his father who sat unmoving at Gríma’s side, seemingly unaware of his son’s distress. “There’s no good to come of lingering here right now. Unless you would fight the king himself, this battle is lost. But there will be others, and gods help us, you will win those.”
Háma pulled him out to the terrace where Théodred paused, his mind reeling and his feet shaky beneath him. All around them, people went about their daily business. Merchants carried goods to the market, parents chased after rambunctious children, soldiers from the Edoras garrison led horses out to the training ring. Each one to walk by acknowledged their prince, giving a small bow or smiling and wishing him well, happily ignorant of the drama that had just unfolded within the hall.
“They still look to you as a leader,” said Háma, gesturing toward the passersby. “They don’t know it, but they are counting on you to pick yourself up and find a way forward. They need you now more than ever.”
Théodred forced himself to look up, to tear his focus from the ache in his chest to the faces of the Rohirrim all around him. Many he knew, some he didn’t. But they were all his people, and they all stood now on the very edge of disaster, one that they did not and could not fully appreciate. They relied on their king to protect them, but his father was in no condition to fulfill that duty, neither physically nor mentally. Whether it was Gríma’s doing or naturally caused, Théoden was not up to the task. And so it was clear to Théodred now that he had an excruciating choice to make: to defy orders and act on his own to fulfill his father’s duties to his kingdom, or to stand by and allow both father and kingdom to be destroyed by the treachery of Gríma and the aggression of Saruman.
A young family passed by, the wife carrying a small infant bundled up against the late February cold, and Théodred’s eye lingered on that little bundle. His father had always loved babies–he said they reminded him of the promise of the future–and he would stop and admire any infant to come across his path, delighting in their rounded little cheeks and tiny, reaching fingers. He was never too busy to dote on the very youngest of his subjects or to join their parents in joy at the addition to their family. Now, as Théodred watched this baby being carried down the street and off to its home, he felt his will harden within him again. Théoden–the real Théoden–would want to protect that baby’s future. And if he couldn’t do it, he would want Théodred to stand in his place, no matter what words Gríma managed to plant in his mouth.
Théodred drew himself up and stiffened his spine. Háma felt the change and released his grip on the prince’s arm.
“You’re right, Háma. This was just the opening salvo in what may be a long struggle, and I need now to think and plan.” He looked back toward the closed door behind them. “Our first priority must be to protect the king. As long as Gríma hides behind my father, I can’t touch him, but if he is responsible for this illness then he must be stopped. We need eyes on him as often as possible to figure out once and for all what he’s doing and how, but it seems those eyes cannot be mine. Can I count on you to watch him and report to me whatever you learn?”
Háma nodded. “Of course. Everything I know, you’ll know.”
Théodred put a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, Háma. I know your oath is to my father and not to me, and I don’t mean to put you in a difficult position by asking things of you while I am out of his favor.”
“There is more than one way to fulfill an oath, my friend.” Háma smiled and tapped a fist against Théodred’s chest before turning to head back inside.
Through the open entryway, Théodred caught a last glimpse of Théoden, quiet and forlorn on his throne, and kept his eyes on him until the closing door at last cut off his view. Alone on the terrace, he breathed out a soft sigh, turned on his heel, and hurried away.
Part four is here.
****************
@sotwk @emmanuellececchi As requested! (Also, I am not this fast at writing—I wish!—but I wrote all 4 parts together so I’m just posting them every few days or so.)
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devnmon · 2 months
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save who you can save // t.s.
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A prequel to Long Long Time, detailing the first time the two met.
pairing: smuggler!reader x tess servopolous slowburn
Summary: One of your smuggling deals goes wrong– almost deathly wrong. A stranger decides you're worth saving.
word count: 12k
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warnings: descriptions of several injuries, reader gets beaten up, non-sexual nudity, tw for random guys in the qz, physical assault, mentions of blood, death, drugs, and typical tlouverse violence... reader is mid 20's, tess is early 40's, tess gives reader stitches (but it's ok they're unconscious), mentions of tess's past, tess and joel aren't a thing in this, but he is an asshole for the better part of the fic [lowkey enemies to friends w/ joel]. pining (a lot of mutual pining oh my god guys.) also pls don't come at me for inaccurate qz stuff, this is fanfic. nonbinary pronouns used the reader is afab! also this fic starts in readers pov and ends in tess's and i just realized that so don't hate me for it! xx
a/n: happy valentines day GAY PEOPLE. this is for you guys. and all the tess fic lovers. here is my prequel of Long Long Time that i wrote a little over a year ago when tlou hbo came out. i pour my heart into each and every fic i write. this is my child, be kind with her. i hope you all enjoy and don't forget to reblog to support your favorite creators!!
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That day she found you, beaten and bloody with several injuries, was the day she had quite genuinely saved your life.
You never should’ve made this deal. 
Becoming a smuggler required more skill, more cunning –more than you had. Somehow, you’ve ended up right where you never thought you’d be: on the sour end of an unstable client. 
You knew your stock wasn’t as satisfying as the client demanded, but the amount of ration cards seemed too good to be true. It happened to be– regrettably you’d been a fool to try and weasel out of the deal without repercussions. Nothing was ever that easy in this world. 
The first thing you felt was the end of a very sharp knife pressing into your back. Then you heard his voice in your ear, speaking punctually. 
“Where do you think you’re going? Nobody gets past me. Not even you. I let you think you’re good at sneaking around. But I see everything.” 
Your breath hitched as his grip pulled you backwards into the alley. Once you turned away from the main road, you were met with another man, one you knew accompanied another man you dealt with often. He was dressed the same, and had that classic sketchy-guy look that told you exactly who’d approached you this hostile. 
It was a particularly unstable client, one you hesitated to continue business with due to his poor self-control. He was a junkie through and through, just a man too weak to settle into this world, needing a constant escape. You had unfortunately promised him a supply you didn’t have, and things escalated too far soon after. 
There was no reason to call for help either; it would be that easy for him to rat you out to FEDRA for selling pills. Even if those same soldiers were frequent customers of yours. Your voice had gone hoarse and the cut on your lip swelled enough to make it hard to speak. 
You couldn’t decide what was worse, the fact that you never saw this coming, or that nobody would be coming to your rescue. 
Crack. 
Your shoulder was slammed into the wall with enough force that you toppled to the floor. Followed by multiple kicks to the stomach and sides, with not even a second’s notice. Your lunch felt closer to coming up with every rough kick of their boots into your torso. 
The amount of stock wasn’t nearly as close to what the client demanded, but his ration cards seemed too good to be true. To be fair, you weren’t cut out to be a smuggler; you were a fool to try and weasel out of the deal without repercussions. It was never that easy in this world. 
Your knuckles scraped against the blacktop like sandpaper while attempting to stand, painted crimson while your skin ripped. When your vision went double, then triple, squeezing your eyes shut alleviated the pain for just a moment. 
Other than the blood you felt gushing from your hands, the throbbing in your head and torso made it difficult to move without immense pain. Weakened by several blows to the stomach, your legs finally gave out. Your ankle twisted the wrong way as you fell, while your palm caught on a sharp piece of rock, scraping it enough to burn. You were damned if you tried to yell for help.
You huff a breath, before a sharp pain stopped you short, coughing up blood that pooled in your chest. On all fours like a dog you were, with the two men standing above you muttering to themselves. 
Mercy, they called this having mercy on you. 
Some form of laceration cut deep enough to drip red hot blood down your forehead, and there was no doubt you had several more covering your body by the way everything burned. It dripped down your face and made everything blurry. 
Coughing hoarsely, you somehow found the strength to pull yourself off from the prone position, finding a wall to sit up against. Each time you moved, it felt as if your body was getting ripped apart. Your bones felt like glass, your skin like paper. Blood gushed from a slash on your arm, and your stomach had taken one too many blows to pull yourself to your feet. 
How the fuck did this happen?
You had been traveling through the QZ during late afternoon, around the central hob of trading. In the midst of the zone's chaos, you ducked into an alley as a shortcut, which was your first mistake. Minutes later, you had been roughly attacked from behind, and thrown against the wall with one motion.
“You got our pills, bitch?” Two sets of feet pointed toward you while weakened. 
“I need more time,” you breathed, convincing yourself more so than the man in front of you, “My dealer’s stingy with his supply. I can get it out of him, though. Soon.”  Your arms raised at your sides, knowing how many people secretly carried knives around the QZ. There was no way you were taking that chance. 
A pair of hands grabbed the collar of your shirt, lifting you up so you could hear them clearly. 
“We want the rest of our pills. And a pack of cigs. End of the day tomorrow. Or you’re all the way dead. You hear me?” 
The other man approached, unsheathing his blade and immediately pressed it to your cheek, standing not even a foot from your body. His blade was forced onto your skin so hard that it drew blood, and you called out in pain. 
“End of day tomorrow. The usual spot.” The one holding your collar said pointedly. 
A fast nod of your head paired with the incessant throbbing of his words within your mind had you struggling to comprehend anything. He released your collar, which resulted in you toppling onto the ground once more. The blood you coughed up afterwards stained your shirt, wiping it away with the sleeve of your flannel. 
You’d survived the chaos of outbreak day, almost running yourself into the ground trying to escape everything. That was the day you knew this would be a life of running, until you arrived in Boston. 
You weren’t sure about the Quarantine Zone at first. But then you saw a bed and pillow to sleep on every night. No more camouflaging yourself in the backseat of a car or suffering drastic temperatures and hoping you wake up not frozen to death the next day. 
To be fair, you tried to sign up for work shifts, but manual labor was never for you– especially not when it was shoveling shit, or transferring corpses to burn in fire pits. That kind of work was not how you intended to live out the rest of your life. 
That was when you landed on smuggling, since people had to be desperate for some kind of relief after taking orders from soldier douchebags all day. You probably would’ve been better off in the academy, not taking shit from a weasel of a dealer whose name you forgot, but whose ponytail you remembered. You’d gone from risking your life every day in the open world, dodging the swarms of runners underground to being forced into risking your life trying to make the junkies and downright miserable people of the QZ happy. 
Now, you’ve accepted that you were going to slowly bleed to death in this alley. Part of you wanted to resist, but the idea of not having to deal with anything like this ever again. It would just be that much easier to close your eyes and succumb. 
You whimpered at the pain running through your leg, a patch of maroon seeping through your jeans. Too weak to put pressure on any of your own wounds, you let your eyes close in defeat. The voice at the back of your head protested, wanting you to get up and fight for your life. But you just couldn’t. 
Eventually the air got cooler which you noted meant the sun had gone down, and you were in and out of consciousness. Warily, you opened your one good eye, spotting the patch of blood that had spread further from the gash on your leg. The sight made you queasy, so you closed your eye again and went back to unconsciousness for a while. It was the lone way everything stopped hurting, and bliss once you floated into it. 
“Psst. You alive?” The words rang sharp in your head with an ache so bad you couldn’t focus. The nudge at your foot woke you a bit, pulling you to consciousness slightly. No reply earned you a slightly harder kick to the leg, which shot another stinging pain up your leg. You groaned and your body moved a bit. 
Is someone there? 
Footsteps crunched against the blacktop, getting slightly louder. 
Fuck, please don’t hurt me, please, please.. 
“I’m just gonna check your pulse, so if you can hear me, don’t freak out.” Your head moved an inch weakly, unsure about this person being so close to you. A low groan of discomfort came from your chest, alerting the woman you were conscious. 
“Hey, hey. I’m not going to hurt you. Just needed to know if you were alive.” The voice was low, and it sounded feminine through the ringing in your ear. 
“H-help… me…” You managed to speak, your mouth and tongue tasting like iron. 
The woman went silent for a moment, taking a look over the state of your injuries. 
“You’re pretty fucked up, honey. God, what piece of shit did this to you?” She picked up on the multiple gashes on your body, staining your clothes, and your shoulder was visibly out of place. 
You decided to open your eyes to see who was crouched next to you. It was no use, your vision was still spinning from earlier. Sharp pains drummed against your head and obscured your ability to see. The one sole thing you could make out was someone with long, light colored hair and a dark pink shirt, but you kept looking around to see if your vision would come back. 
“Shit. I’ve gotta get you out of here. Just- just hold on. Name’s Tess, what’s yours?” You picked up on her moving about, unzipping what you assumed was her pack. 
You mumbled again, still unable to speak clearly. 
“Right, dumb question. So, I’ve gotta stop your bleeding, and your shoulder looks dislocated. I can only do one of those things right now, and then we can get you someplace safe. That means I’m gonna have to put pressure on your leg. Okay?” Her words came out matter-of-factly, and she seemed like a true survivor of this world. 
You begin to protest, moving slightly away from her and moaning with distrust. 
“Look, I promise, I will get you out of here. But I can’t have you leaving a blood trail through the streets. Alright?” She asked, and you hesitated for a moment, but nodded slightly. 
“Okay, this is going to hurt, but I need you to keep it quiet so it doesn’t attract soldiers. Can you do that?” 
Immediately, you shook your head no, and you heard the woman mumble to herself while she shuffled through her bag.
“Here, bite down on this. It’s a clean rag, and I promise that if you scream, it’ll be a hell of a lot quieter than if you didn’t have it.” She raised the rag up to your lips and waited for you to open your mouth. Somehow you trusted her to let her put it in. If this were some other old injury, you wouldn’t be giving an inch. But you happened to be on the brink of death right now, and you realized she’s probably saving your life. 
“I’m gonna put pressure on your cut now.” You heard her rearrange herself to be crouched over on the other side of you. With both her hands, she pressed down firmly on your wound. The stinging pain that died down earlier came right back when her hands made contact. She noticed your wound gushing through the first bandage in her hand. You groaned loudly into the cloth, grateful for its existence. 
“I know it hurts…” The woman spoke again, “Just hang in there. I’m gonna wrap your wound, and then once we’re safe, I can stitch it up.” 
You begin to protest, borderline trusting the woman in front of you. Then you realized, she was the only one here. 
"Look, I need to get you out of here. Need to get us out of here. Soldiers are gonna be swarming the streets all night, and it's almost sundown. I can take you to my place, and I’ll have a better chance to take care of you there. I know you probably don’t trust me, but it's the least I can do."
Considering the current situation, you didn’t have much of a choice. 
“Do what you… h-have to..” you muttered weakly. 
The pressure on your wound had lightened, while one of her hands rested on it as she used the other to grab for her bag again. She met your eye level for a moment, glancing up to survey your state. She went back to wrap some gauze around your thigh, tying it tighter than you would’ve liked, even though you knew it would help your wound begin to heal. 
“Okay, I think the bleeding stopped. You poor thing, let’s get you out of here.” You watched her zip up her pack and shrug it onto her back, while grabbing yours with her other hand. 
“It’s probably gonna hurt a lot if you try to stand, but we gotta get you up one way or another.” You felt her at your side, slipping your left arm around her shoulder. She had already noticed the sharp inhales you were taking upon moving from your spot. 
“Here, lean on me. I’ll carry you. Just keep breathing, honey.” 
The minute she began to lift you was when you knew something was really wrong with your other arm. It tingled all over and your shoulder ached something awful. 
“‘M t-tryin’– it hurts…” had been uttered under your breath with another whine of sharp pain as your body moved with hers. 
“I know. Shhh, Shh. Hey, Just put one foot in front of the other. You’ve got this.” Something about her voice was calming you, and it almost made up for all the pain. The two of you begin walking, slowly at first, testing out your strength for the journey. It took a minute of tripping over your own feet to steady yourself. 
“Promise we’re gonna get you fixed up, brand new.” She muttered under her breath, low enough so other people nearby didn’t hear. 
Somehow her words kept you going, limp after limp. Tess made sure you knew when you had to take a step up or down, and kept you going the whole time. 
“Yeah, you got it. We’re halfway there. Keep it up, doin’ great.” Her words reverberated in your head with an echo. You couldn’t see where you were stepping for the majority, but you trusted her to guide you. Another few minutes of walking had your body much more worn out than normal. Once she stopped at the side of a building, her arm went to push the door open.
“Here we are.” Tess kicked it shut behind you two, and balanced you against her body. The interior was warm on your skin, but somehow your body still shivered to its core. Inside, you could hear people shifting around, but the sounds blended together amongst your attempt to stay upright. 
“I’m s-so cold…” 
The strength in your body was draining with every step you took; you were ready to collapse. 
“I know, but you gotta keep your eyes open a little longer. We need to get you up these stairs. Then we’re home free.” 
You didn’t protest as she brought you closer, inching up each step carefully in order to not strain yourself. Your legs ached with every step, persevering to make it all the way.
The last step up the top stair drained the last of your stamina, evident by the way your fingers throbbed with each beat of your heart. You were out of it more intensely than when you had been outside. Your whole body was sensitive with some form of pain you couldn’t quite pinpoint. 
Tess led you down the short hallway, stopping in front of her door. She fumbled with her keys, although the jingling chain sounded more like glass breaking in your head. The door flew open, and she brought you inside, tossing your pack to the side while tossing her keys in another direction. 
“Alright, let’s set you down on the couch. Should be more comfortable than the damn ground.” Tess scoffed as she brought you over, keeping an eye on your limp. She turned you to the right, your bad arm on the outside of the couch as you were lowered down onto the cushions. When your feet were finally off the ground and your back rested against the pillows, it made a world of a difference. 
“Fuck… I’m so tired. Everything hurts.” You stifled a groan, but Tess saw how much pain you were in. Your eyes scrunched together every time you tried to move and there were multiple patches of blood seeping through your shirt. 
“I know. But I can’t leave your shoulder the way it is.” 
“My shoulder?” You hadn’t the slightest idea what she was talking about, your arms felt fine. 
No, it’s definitely the shock you’re in. 
“It’s dislocated. Pretty swollen already, you must be in shock. And I already told you that I’d have to pop it back in. Before we left, you don’t remember?” 
“No…” You mumbled, trying to recall; your memory was so groggy; you couldn’t remember half the day. 
“Shit, you probably have a concussion too.” Tess reached to the back of her jeans, pulling out the same rag as before. “But I’ve gotta set your shoulder before it’s permanently damaged. It’s probably been way too long already.” 
“How d’you know all this? Were you a doctor or something? Before?” Tess turned to face you, and you were able to focus on the features of her face for a moment. Her eyes were a light hazel color, and you could see little strands of grey peeking through her light brown hair. 
“Or something… I did a lot to survive after the outbreak. Learned a lot more to survive the hard times.” Her words trailed off, and she went to grab something from another part of the room. Tess had collected an old shirt of hers, and came back over to you. 
“Okay, so… I’m not good with pain clearly. Hope you still have that rag. Cause I’m gonna yell… or pass out. Either way, it’s gonna hurt a shit ton, and I’m gonna need it.” 
Without a doubt, Tess pulled the rag from her back pocket for you. 
“Got it right here. Kept it out of my pack cause I knew you’d need it again. This is gonna hurt a lot more than just some pressure on your cut.” She began tying the t-shirt together in a specific way, but you weren’t sure what she was doing with it. 
“Shit. I know… I know. Just do it.” You groaned, feeling a slight tingling sensation in your left hand shooting upwards to your shoulder. 
Tess set the now tied shirt onto the floor, as she kneeled down next to you. With one hand, she held the rag up to your mouth, and you bit down on it. Among the various other pains in your body, your shoulder was the worst of all. Taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself enough, Tess met your eye once she had leaned down in front of you. 
“Ready?”
Wordlessly, you nodded your head. You were trying to keep calm, but the shock was wearing off and your pain came flooding back. One of Tess’s hands grasped your forearm, though you could barely feel her grip. 
“Okay. One, two…” 
Crack went your shoulder back into its socket with one swift motion. Just as she thought, you went groaning into the rag once again. Tess took her hands away and grabbed the makeshift sling she had tied together earlier. 
“Does that feel better?” She asked, watching you spit out the rag. You took another deep breath in and out, surveying the current feeling in your arm. 
“Yeah.” You weren’t sure if you believed it yourself, but for now you decided to. “Pain’s still there, but it definitely feels different. Better than before.”
“Good. Here, you’ve gotta wear your arm in this sling while it heals.” Tess lifted the tied up sling over your head, and it slipped on easily on once she had it situated the right way. 
“Could I get those pills now? The idea of any kind of grace from the amount of pain I was just in sounds like a dream.” You tried to laugh, but a cough came up instead. 
“Yeah. I’ve got Oxy, Hydro, Morphine…” She trailed off, not even knowing if you knew what she was talking about. 
“Honestly, whatever you think will be best. I honestly don’t know anything about dosages very well, and I trust you. Besides, I just wanna knock out for the night. I’m fucking exhausted.” Your words slurred a bit, due to your swollen lip, but Tess heard you well enough. 
“Alright, I’ll be right back.” 
Instead of trying to keep your eyes open, you shut them again in an attempt to alleviate the pain in your head, but it pounded nonstop. You listened to Tess’s boots on the wooden floor walking around to ground yourself. A couple minutes later, she returned to where you lay on the couch. 
You peeked your eyes open, and she’d crouched down with two pills in one hand and a cup of water in the other. 
“Got you water to wash it down with, if you want.” Her cupped hand held two of the white pills and you raised your good arm to grab them. Patient as she was, you moved slowly. 
There was no indication of any burdensome look on her face, which was odd– no one had ever been this kind to you before. You didn’t know how to feel about it. 
Slipping the pills between your lips, you grabbed for the cup of water. It began to slip out of your hand the minute Tess loosened her grip.
“Here, let me. You’re gonna be really weak for a while, so just close your eyes and relax.” She said, to which she brought the cup to your lips with no hesitation. 
“Now, while those pills kick in, I’ll see what I can do for your gashes and other injuries. All I want you to focus on is getting some sleep. You’re safe. I promise.” She touched your hand softly, then stood up and walked off to leave you space to rest. 
Once you closed your eyes, you felt the exhaustion wash over you, though it finally felt good to rest again. A few minutes passed, and the groggy effect of the pills began to set in. You were out in no time. 
In the meantime, Tess darted back and forth gathering supplies to fix you up; she’d sterilized a needle and thread to stitch up your leg, and took the last of her ace bandages out from her pack to use for your ankle. She grabbed the bottle of whiskey on the countertop, and brought what she needed over to you, couchside. 
Before Tess took the needle and thread between her fingers, she cut away the area of denim that was ripped from your gash.
“Sorry, kid. I’ll get you some new pants.” To be fair, those jeans of yours were filthy with dirt and muck stains you’d never be able to wash out. Not to mention the blood that spread had well enough to become a large patch. She attempted to wipe up the dried viscera around your cut best she could, dabbing with the alcohol lightly to sanitize it. She’d counted on you being unconscious from the pills to start stitching up your gash. Hands steady, she looped the needle and thread through your cut, pulling it closed with each tie. 
Though it wasn’t the most ideal situation for something like this, Tess had the experience. Stitching up cut after cut on the road for god knows how long, trying to keep moving forward, but somehow someone always got hurt. People kept dying, or turning– and that wasn’t even the worst part. Upon making it to Boston, she learned what it was to be calm under situations like this. To become cold. It got the best of her, more often than not; any idea of the old her was lost to dreams of the world before. She never looked back, never slowed down, never took even a moment for herself. Her routine was based strictly around finding the best way to get by in the QZ. The constant eye of FEDRA’s guards and firefly bombings were enough, let alone the mile-long lines for rations that were barely ever in. It was too much to subject herself to being controlled by an invasive military, especially after all she’d done to survive. Each person Tess left behind etched a sliver of her humanity off, chipping away the heartfulness she once carried with pride. 
Save who you can save, the last words whispered to her by someone that sacrificed themselves so she could make it to Boston. Everything blurred together sometime after getting admitted into the city; by then, she’d worn down that kind version of herself into the ground. Possibly that same place where she heard those words before. Quickly, she gained a reputation with Joel by her side in the smuggling business of the zone. It paid well– better than hard labor all day for a cruel amount of flimsy ration cards, just to repeat the same thing over the next day. There was a respectable line Tess drew between the things she’d done in the name of survival, and things she strongly disliked doing. 
Tess’s time in the QZ had only reinforced that rigid outer shell of hers, confident the softer, weaker person inside her was left behind for good.
She’d almost made it through the day without finding any trouble, but her path through the streets was detoured by FEDRA vehicles and it happened to be the quickest route back to her place. Tess’s steps were quick, aiming to make a b-line straight back. 
Then her eyes caught the image of your thoroughly beaten self, and attempted to shut down the itch in the back of her throat she couldn’t quite scratch. 
Just keep walking, she’d told herself. But her subconscious knew better. Then those words echoed lightly through her head. 
Tess, save who you can save…
“Shit…” 
She thought she’d forgotten them all. But time never does. Those poor souls lost to hordes of runners, clickers, stalkers– each one shoved down so deep inside, and the outside shell of her was simple glass. 
Keep walking, just keep walking…. No–
She truly tried to keep going, but each step gnawed into her further. Remembrance of the ones she’d lost shattered the glass holding her back, and glued her feet to the ground in place. A quick curse had Tess looking back over her right shoulder, catching a glimpse of your unmoving body. She’d figured if this were a trap, others would’ve already surrounded her. 
A deep sigh came from her exhale of a tightly held breath; her heart pounding against the inside of her chest, as if something about to burst. Any second thought of moving further had vanished, her feet pivoting against the concrete, toward the stagnant body lying soundless against the brick wall. 
Darkness swallowed every corner of that alley; Tess was fortunate to even have seen you at all. 
It wasn’t often she found herself stopping for anyone that needed help, let alone in the QZ. Underneath the swollen and crimson stained injuries, she saw a young individual subdued and unconscious from their injuries. That was the moment she’d called out to you. 
Tess shook those pre-Boston nightmares from her mind, putting all of her focus onto fixing up your ankle. With the discoloration of bruises that covered your ankle, it baffled her how you were even able to trek as far as you had gone. Her eyebrows furrowed relentlessly, each one of your injuries more surprising than the last. 
“Jesus, kid. What the hell did you get yourself into?” She muttered to herself, before grabbing the roll of bandages from her pack. Tess was so focused on getting your ankle wrapped, that she hadn’t heard the creak of the wooden floor from behind her. 
“Tess… what’re you doin’?” 
Unbothered by the voice, her hands kept working. Though, she knew she’d woken her roommate from his slumber. Joel Miller hadn’t thought this was what he’d be seeing at almost two in the morning. 
“Wrapping an ankle, the hell do you think I’m doing?” 
“Tess. who the fuck is this?” By the tone of his voice, she knew he was pissed. She dare not poke the bear this late. 
“It’s uh… well, no. I don’t know. They couldn’t speak when I found them.” She’d finished securing the bandage around your ankle, and placed it back down on the couch.
“Do you even know their name?” Joel stepped towards Tess, his brow furrowed. 
“Joel… they were lying beat up and bloody in an alley. I wasn’t gonna take the chance and leave them there to die.” She reached for the other pillow on the couch, and placed it delicately for your ankle to rest on. 
“Well, did you even check their pack for weapons?” 
Tess huffed a breath, and stood up straight, turning to the man. 
“I was a little preoccupied making sure they weren’t bleeding out. Besides, they didn’t have any on their body. But if you insist…”
She took the moment now to move towards your pack she’d thrown into a corner earlier, taking out a notebook, some ration cards, and a couple bags of pills. 
“What the fuck? Tess, this could be a setup.” Joel muttered, the tone of his voice unsettled by the situation. 
“What? No. No fucking way, Joel. I’m telling you, they would’ve died out there if it wasn’t for me.” 
“You’ve gotta stop tryin’ to save people that ain’t worth it. That’s how we’re still alive, why we’re here and the dead ain’t.” 
“No, I don’t believe you. They’re unconscious and didn’t even see you, by the way. I think you’re fine.” Tess shook her head while she spoke. 
“Well, it’s our business that goes to shit if you’re wrong.” Joel spat, beginning to walk back to his door. 
“I don’t really give a shit. Not tonight. What I do care about is making sure this person stays alive. I couldn’t care less about distributing pills to junkies.” 
She did care about the smuggling, just not as much as she did about keeping you alive for the night. 
“Yeah, whatever.” 
His door shut and locked, leaving Tess alone with you for the night. She collected herself after that conversation, preparing anything she might need throughout the night to treat you. Just in case. 
Her muscles finally relaxed the minute she’d sat down in a chair adjacent to her couch. While she draped a blanket over her legs, Tess took one last look at you, studying your rising chest and calm features. 
You’re gonna be alright. 
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Beams of sunlight painted the walls with a glowing warmth, cast across the older woman’s skin. Morning broke early, waking Tess before either of the habitants that resided in the Boston apartment. She’d always been a light sleeper, despite that it was loud most hours in the walls of the QZ. Living in Detroit her whole life had certainly accustomed her to it. 
Her hazel eyes opened against the light, finding themselves staring upwards at the ceiling. Tess had woken up several times throughout the night, which had become a normal occurrence for her. Events from last night flashed through her mind as she rose from her slumber. Her slumped position resulted with an uncomfortable spot in her neck from the chair she’d been in all night. Tess sat up as best she could, grasping the nape of her neck for comfort. No matter how many times she tried to get rid of the pain, nothing relieved her. Defeated by the lack of sleep, she rose from the chair and looked over at you still asleep on the couch. 
Rays of sunlight happened to catch right over your face, peeking through the blinds as they awoke you from rest. Yesterday had become a blur quicker than light. 
Where am I? What happened to me? It hurts everywhere…
You shifted lightly with a groan, eyes still closed. A headache pinged at the sides of your temples, and you took a sharp breath out of reflex. You weren’t able to move your body freely; exhaustion had drained you enough. Out of the blue, you heard a female voice echoing in your ears. Your one good eye opened, and it took a minute to adjust to the light, along with any blurriness. 
“Hey, you with me?” Her voice called out to you, unintelligible at first, but once you focused on the words more, you understood. 
“Where… where am I?” You mumbled, attempting to lift yourself up. You didn’t know what was worse; not knowing where you were, or not being able to lift your body normally. 
“Don’t try to sit up. You’re safe, but you’re too weak to sit up right now. I saved you last night, patched you up. Remember? My name’s Tess.” 
“Not really…” you sighed, accepting your weakened state. 
Tess knew it would take more than just one night to gain your trust; she also knew Joel wouldn’t be as patient. She crouched down by the side of the couch where you were, getting closer to make sure you heard her. 
“So, I pulled you out of that alley last night, patched you up and kept you safe the past twelve hours. I think that warrants me your name.” 
Your eyes glanced over her figure, the image of Tess still fuzzy. Considering all the factors, and the fact that you were still alive, you gave in and told her your name. Tess nodded contently and spoke again.
“Well, you probably have a concussion. But I cleaned and bandaged up everything else I could. Your left arm was dislocated, but I popped it back in last night. That’s why it’s in the sling. Don’t try to move it much, it’ll take a while to heal. As for your ankle, it’s twisted pretty bad. Bruised, too. You’re gonna be off your feet for a while.” Surveying the bumps and bruises you’d received, she set other supplies to the side on the floor.
You glanced down at your body, pulling back the blanket over your legs to find your stained jeans and the stitched up gash, with other bandaging around your ankle. 
“You saved me? And bandaged me up?” You speak clearly for the first time, and Tess stopped in her movement. 
“Yeah. You’re lucky to be alive. I wasn’t gonna let you die out there.” 
“What..” you swallowed, “What happened to me?” 
“From the looks of it, you were on the bad side of a shitty deal gone wrong. Like I said, you’re lucky to be alive.” Her tone was calm, and impressive to see in a situation that was anything but. 
“You went through my pack?” 
“I found you in an alley. Almost dead. Can you blame me?” 
“Guess not…” you said, sighing and trying to sit up. With one arm in a sling, you were having trouble moving without anything hurting. The pills were wearing off little by little as time passed. 
“Yeah, I wouldn’t do that. You’re gonna be couch bound for a while.” 
“What? No way. I need to… I have business and shit I need to get done–” 
“Don’t play coy. We know you’re a smuggler.” She shoved her hands in her pockets, pacing in small circles. 
“Well, you went through my bag. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. Wait, did you say we?” 
Before Tess could respond, a gray haired man emerged from behind her, jutting into the conversation. 
“You’re real cocky for someone that almost ended up dead from one of your clients. For all I know, this whole thing is a setup for you to rob us, kill us, or somethin’ else. But I ain’t gonna take that chance. Not now, not ever. Are we clear?” His southern accent came out as he spoke, and it wasn’t often you heard a voice like his among the Boston streets. It was intimidating enough; you didn’t trust him. 
“Yeah– okay, dude. Jesus, I don’t even know who you are. I didn’t know you guys were smugglers!” your voice strained while you lift your arm to gesture. 
“Joel, I was the one that brought them here. Like you said, this is on me. And I’ve got it. Walk it off, Texas.” 
The man named Joel walked backwards, dark eyes trained on you until the moment he turned around and left. He shut the front door in haste. 
“Is he always that tense?” You ask, taking a deep breath. 
“No. It’s not every day I bring anyone back to this apartment. Let alone someone who looked half dead, like yourself. No offense.” 
“Yeah… Why did you save me, by the way? You could’ve just left me there. But you didn’t.” 
“I told you… I wasn’t going to let you die. I thought you were dead at first, but I took the chance and saved your damn life. Is that what you wanna hear?” Your vision was still a little blurry, but you could focus on the woman’s features much more easily up close. You finally made out the face of your savior, Tess was a woman with light brown hair, longer than her shoulders but not too long. Her eyes were green, and there were lines on her face from time passing. With her stern voice, you wouldn’t know her face would look as calm. 
“Well, thank you.” You admitted, half ashamed you even thought about staying there to die in the first place. 
“You’re welcome.” 
Just as the silence settled, your body became aware of every injury you’d received. A sound of discomfort slipped past your lips, furrowing your eyebrows together. 
“Are you in pain? What hurts?” Tess began looking over the stitches she’d done the night before. 
With a groan, you replied, “Everything…” 
“Alright, I can give you a couple more pills for the pain. Uh wait– do you need to use the bathroom? I assume it’s been a while…” 
“Oh, yeah. I think in my near death I’d been.. You know, going without the ability to control it.” 
“Right… Well, I can get you a clean pair of clothes, but it won’t do any good if you’re wearing your own body fluids. Do you– would you like a bath?” 
Immediately insecure, you realized how filthy you must’ve become, spending most of yesterday soaked in your own blood and urine. Quickly, you nodded while looking down, shame washing over you. 
“Okay, Joel’s not gonna be back for a few hours. I can spare you some new clothes and underwear, but your boots I can just clean off later. I’ll re-wrap your injuries after, too. For now, we’ve gotta get you cleaned up.” 
She lifted you from the couch dutifully and slung you over her shoulder to head towards the bathroom. Tess recognized your sounds of discomfort, a string of sharp breaths and muffled groans you thought she didn’t hear. 
“Almost there. Here we go.” Her hip pushed the door open, sitting you on the chair next to the tub. Once the water was on and flowing, Tess found the right temperature and began filling the tub. She made her way back to you, and began to untie your boots, placing them off to the side. She took off your button down shirt, which revealed more black and blue bruising across your back and shoulder. You hissed a breath as she pulled the sleeve down off your left arm. Before moving further, Tess looked toward you with kind eyes. 
“It’s okay. Don’t feel ashamed. It’s just hard now. But you’ll be alright… Can I continue?” Her hand rested on your good shoulder patiently. You nodded silently, realizing the intimacy of the situation and looked down at the floor. 
Slowly, cautiously, and gently, she undressed you while the tub filled beside you both. Not only was your body covered in bruises and scrapes, but dried blood and other viscera had caked on a few layers. The bandages from last night were discarded to the side, fresh ones in the other room for when you were clean. She saw your reaction as you entered the water, your face contorted in both pain and pleasure while you sat. The warmth of the liquid against your torso was another level of soothing, flooding your skin with goosebumps and washing off some of the dried blood upon submerging yourself into the tub. Tess grabbed a washcloth and bar of soap, lathering it up before wiping it across your back. 
“I don’t know how to thank you. This is…” 
“You don’t have to say anything. And you don’t have to thank me. Please– please don’t thank me.” Tess knew this wouldn’t make up for the numerous people she’d left behind– left to die so she could persevere ahead. But all she had to do was goddamn try. 
A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, sighing while she kept cleaning off your body. Her hands were soft against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. Though she was doing something as intimate as washing you, it didn’t bother you as much as it would have on any other occasion. She carefully avoided running over your scrapes and other open wounds, yet still washing them lightly with the soap and water. Before long, the water had become a dark brown color from how much had washed off of you. Tess began to drain the tub, keeping the faucet running as it drained. 
“Mind if I wash your hair?” 
It was just a simple question, but it sparked your anxiety a bit more than when she undressed you earlier. 
“Uh.. sure.” 
Tess washed out the tub with a bucket while you sat in it. She lathered some shampoo between her palms, rubbing it across your scalp with gentle fingers. 
You couldn’t deny, Tess’s hands were calloused and rough, but they felt like heaven against your scalp. Rubbing the pads of her fingers into your head was somehow better than all the times you’d done it yourself. Eyebrows furrowed against the sensation, and you groaned lowly. You somehow alerted Tess, wondering if she’d pressed too firmly on your head. 
“What happened? Does it hurt? Sorry if I’m going too hard–”
“No, it’s great. Keep going.” You breathed. 
“Okay..” she chuckled a bit before continuing, then used the bucket to wash the rest out from your locks before applying conditioner. One of her hands grabbed the brush on the floor, slowly untangling the mess of knots in your hair. The warm water calmed you like nothing you’d experienced before, at least not since after the world fell. Appreciation flowed through you, and the comfortable silence reinforced that all the more. It was a safe feeling, one you shared with this kind, and beautiful woman. She’d washed the leftover soap and conditioner off your body, and began to towel dry your skin in a gentle manner. 
“Here, wrap yourself in this. I’ll be right back with the clothes.” Quick footsteps brought her to the pile of clothes she’d attained over the months on the run. She’d returned to the bathroom with a few things in hand, and approached you. Carefully, she stood you from the tub and stepped back onto the floor while wiping the remaining water droplets off your back. 
“Thanks..” you shivered a bit against the cold air, wanting to be clothed and back under the thick blanket. The socks she slipped over your feet helped warm you, while carefully slipping on the rest of her clothes. Tess even brought a spare sports bra for you to borrow for the time being. Something about the way she moved so calmly, spoke with such a soothing voice that made this whole situation seem lighter. On any other day, you’d be stressing about finding the right pills for a client or risking your life outside the walls. Her soft movements sparked something inside you with a new kind of warmth, and it almost atoned for everything you’d been through the past 12 hours. 
Once you were dressed, Tess towel dried your hair and began to tie up another sling for your arm. 
“When you’re back on the couch, I’m gonna put some ice on your ankle. It’ll help with the swelling and probably some of the pain.” You nodded silently, taken back constantly by her kindness. 
“If you’re in pain, I could give you another dose of pain meds. But it depends on if you want to eat something beforehand. It’s been since yesterday since you ate anything, probably for the both of us. I can fix you something to eat, though.” 
“Oh, uh, sure.” You weren’t completely sure what you were doing here still, your mind foggy from the night before. The way your injuries burned and ached against one another had you aching for some kind of relief– any kind at this point. How you got yourself here, you weren’t sure of either. 
Not much later, Tess came over with something suitable for you to eat, before giving you a couple more pills for the pain. Again you fell drowsy from the pain medication, resting the day away. With you resting calmly on the couch, Tess did her best to stay awake until Joel returned, running on less than five hours of sleep. It felt like ages before he came through the apartment door once again. 
“Hey, can you… keep an eye on them, please… I barely got any shuteye last night.” 
“I just got back–” 
“Joel, please.”
“Fine.” 
“Don’t hurt them, Miller. Seriously. Or I’ll hurt you.” She mumbled under her breath, trudging to the door. 
“I’ve got it. Just go.” 
With that, Tess collapsed on her mattress, not even bothering to pull the sheet over her, before drifting off to sleep the minute her eyelids fluttered shut. 
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On the couch, you woke to a silent morning; no movement could be heard amongst the apartment. Your eyelids fluttered open, turning your head to look for Tess; instead you were met with the dark eyes of Joel Miller. His figure sat across from you, adjusting the gun in his hand so you could see it well. 
“You try anything funny, you get a bullet.” Joel raised his hand to gesture with the weapon. He noticed the bags under your eyes were dark and sunken in, making you appear more dead than alive at the moment, despite all the bandages. 
“You wouldn’t shoot me here. It’d be too loud and soldiers would be here quicker than light.” You rasped, coughing lightly from your dry throat. 
“Wanna bet?” He leaned in with a menacing glare. You kept eye contact with him as he began to stand, the intimidation not making a dent in you. It was enough to make Joel second guess his opinion of you for a moment. 
“Joel, stand down.” Tess called from the other side of the room. You called her name from the couch, and she quickly replied. 
“I’m here. Do you need anything?” She came into eyesight now, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and casually wearing a sweatshirt. Tess gave Joel a look, motioning for him to leave the room. 
“Yeah. I need to get out of here and home.” Your eyes watched the older man get up, watching as Tess approached, “My client’s probably freaking the fuck out and wreaking havoc across the QZ looking for me.” 
“About that…” She strolled over to where you were, taking a seat, “You need to tell me who did this to you.”
“What? N-No… I can’t. He’s my client. I can deal with him.” You shot up in your seat, groaning slightly. 
“Oh right. Like that worked out so well last time?” Joel spoke, walking away. Your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance at what Tess was suggesting.
“Trust me, kid. You’ll thank me later.” She added. 
“I’m already thanking you later. I’ll probably be owing you for the rest of my life.” 
“No, kid–” 
“Don’t call me kid. I’m grown. I can take care of myself.” 
“Okay, you’re gonna have to prove it, then. You still need time to heal.” Tess insisted you lay down again, but her words flew in one ear and out the other.
“I need to not be couch bound and sleeping through the day! I need to have a life, some kind of life in this shit hole of a city! Don’t you get it?” Your voice was rising, straining against the irritation. 
“I do, trust me. I do. It’s why we got into that business, too. But hun, you didn’t deserve what happened to you. I hope you know that. Now, I’d like to know…” She leaned in closer, lowering her voice to look you in the eye. 
“Let it go. It doesn’t matter!” 
“Yes it does. Who did this to you?” Her voice spoke pointedly, holding strong eye contact with you. Your eyes closed for a second, throwing your head back with a sigh. 
“His info is on the third page in my notebook. You’ll know it’s him cause his orders take up almost the whole fucking page.” You pinched the bridge of your nose as Tess stepped toward your pack, rummaging through it until she found the notepad. Pocketing it, she walked over to Joel’s door, ajar, and spoke. 
“Texas, make our guest something to eat. I have some business to attend to.” She turned toward the door, exiting the apartment with your notebook in hand. 
“Wait, Tess!” 
Your voice fell on deaf ears; she was already down the hallway and gone. Once the man emerged from his bedroom, you shared a plain look as he made his way to the kitchen. Before reaching for the cupboard doors, he grabbed the bottle of amber liquor and poured some into a glass. 
“Pour me a glass of that, please.” 
“Are you even old enough?” 
“Are you kidding? I’m 25. Now can you pour me a damn drink already?” 
Silently, Joel rolled his eyes and poured some into a glass for you. It was his peace offering before he went back to find something for you to eat. You ended up sharing some soup and crackers with Joel for dinner, awaiting the older woman’s return afterwards.
An hour or two passed before Tess made her way back. You were resting on the couch when the door opened. She took a sharp breath in upon entering, and let the door slam behind her louder than usual. It gained your attention and Joel’s, looking toward the door. You heard her hiss a breath, while she shook out her fist. 
“Shit, Tess. What did you do?” She walked further into the apartment, the light glimmering against the fresh blood across her lip. 
“Took care of that client of yours.” She muffled a groan, stretching out her fist while her knuckles bled. 
“Did you kill him? The fuck–” You began to try and stand on your good foot, but stumbled before you could get any closer to her. 
“What? No, I didn’t kill him. Just taught him a lesson. That smug fucker. I don’t know why you did business with him. He’s a bad junkie. You never do business with a bad junkie.” She sat down near you again, noticing the empty whiskey glass nearby on the floor. 
“He was my most frequent customer. Shady as hell, if I’m honest, he kinda scared me. That’s how I knew it was him when I got attacked. 
“That’s naïve of you. Why would you ever do something that risky by yourself?” 
“I… didn’t have anyone else who was willing to risk their lives sneaking around the QZ. So I said fuck it.” 
“Well, I still think you’re a dumbass. You’re just lucky you’re staying out of the smuggling market for a while.” 
“No, I told you I can’t. I need to–” 
“You need to rest and heal. I swear to god, if I hear one more word about you getting on your feet before you’re a hundred percent, I swear I’ll chain you to the couch.” 
“Jesus, fine. I won’t go back out there. Throw my entire business away just to wait till these injuries kill me in the middle of the night, I guess.” 
“Hey, you’re gonna be fine. The only reason I’m being an asshole about this is because I want you to survive. I didn’t pull you off the street to let you go back to that shitty situation.” Her words were honest, even if you didn’t believe them. 
“Well, thanks. I guess.” 
“Yeah, don’t mention it.” She shrugged your thanks off and went about her business. 
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The future weeks proved to be the longest haul you thought you’d ever been in. It consisted of a lot of reading, sleeping, and wishing you could be on your feet. You ended up asking Tess to take a trip to your place and retrieve some of your things; you were tired of having to put her out of her own clothes to wear. Plus it would just be more comfortable for you. Tess checked your injuries daily, reapplying bandages and cleaning on a steady schedule. She would not let you die from infections after doing all she could to save your life that night. 
The two older individuals went about their days more regularly once you were out of the woods with all of your injuries. Tess helped you to and from the table so you could join them for meals, otherwise spending the day rereading old books and magazines while trying to find other things to do than just sit around and rot. You were grateful for Tess saving your life, but this healing process was a bitch. 
 Standing wasn’t as easy as you thought it would be, especially having been off your feet for days on end. Much less the blood loss you’d experienced, it was humbling to not be able to get around on your own. Slowly as the first week passed, Tess helped you get back on your feet bit by bit. You had enough strength after another week to stand on your own.
One day, the smuggling duo was planning a run while surveying a map they’d drawn up. You nonchalantly watched, sitting in a chair neary. They hadn’t noticed you, until you mentioned a route they hadn’t heard of, and her attention turned to you, impressed with your knowledge and jotted the trail down for later. 
“Wait, question. Do you guys know Robert?” Your arms crossed over your chest. 
Both Joel and Tess turned towards you now, their eyes widened and faces grim. 
“Why?” Joel asked with a stern voice. 
“He’s one of the guys that uses that route. At least, his guys do. So be careful.” 
“You’re telling me you used to run with Robert?” 
“Only for a little. Seemed like he wanted more than just business… with me. But I got out of there before it was too late.” Tess scoffed, a smirk forming on her face. 
“Tell you what. You wanna keep smuggling, you join us when you’re fully healed.” 
Joel turned to her, but she shot him a look and turned back to the map silently. 
“You’re sure?” You asked, sitting up. 
“I’m sure. Not gonna let you put yourself in danger again when you could have us at your side.” She looked back down at the map and continued jotting in her notes. 
“Okay, cool.” You smiled to yourself, thinking Tess didn’t see, but she glanced up for a moment after she heard your words. She noticed the eagerness in your eyes and felt her heart skip a beat. 
So, it wasn’t all for nothing, you thought. 
You weren’t given a second chance to live just to lose what got you through the days and weeks on your own. This gave you another opportunity to survive with individuals by your side; you wouldn’t be alone anymore. 
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Caring came far too easy for Tess. She'd seem cold on the outside, and sure, she was a reserved person. But to see you so overjoyed about being able to continue smuggling, she couldn’t help but have a little warm feeling in her chest. 
She thought the first time would be the only time a spark would flicker inside her. But then you were laughing at something idiotic one night, and she felt it again. The tensions between you and Joel had broken– finally. For the first time in a while, Tess saw multiple things looking up: you were recovering on a steady pace, and on an even better note, becoming a friend to her. She read you books, mostly classics from what she’d traded for. Ultimately grateful, you listened intently to every word she read, while trying to not fall asleep from her soothing voice. 
Under all the scratches and bruises, Tess saw your kindness and personality reveal with everyday that passed. She became privy to the way you saw the world with a gentle hand, reinforcing that spark in her chest. Yet that same spark came with guilt; she knew it wasn’t fair to fall for you after all you’d been through. She wasn’t sure if you’d ever trust someone like that again. So that spark was only kept as embers, in a lockbox on a very high, very dusty shelf in her mind. 
Another week of healing went by, and you were finally able to stop wearing your arm in a sling. You spent the day traveling back to your place to grab some things you’d need for the next few days. Tess insisted you stay in the apartment with her and Joel while you healed. You hadn’t been home since the day you were attacked, other than the days Tess was kind enough to retrieve some things for you. 
As of present day, you had gained the ability to walk on your ankle back after almost a month of being off it. The first thought in your head the morning of was that a trip outside the walls of the apartment. You also knew others might want to pay you a visit if you returned back by yourself, which is when you mentioned the idea to Tess. 
“Yeah, you’re definitely not going alone. I’ll come with. When do we leave?” 
“Right now.” You grinned at her with content before you went to grab your pack. 
The two of you flew down the steps and out the door, Tess following behind you with caution. Your first step into the outside air was something you missed within almost a month of being indoors. While it wasn’t exactly sunny, the cool air was refreshing against your skin and differed greatly from the apartment. 
“Don’t run off now.” the older woman muttered, shutting the door behind her. Just from the way you moved, Tess could tell you were in need of something like this. You looked around at the same old streets of the QZ like it was something completely new. She felt lucky to be the one seeing this part of you, the healed and healthy part. 
“C’mon, I’ll lead the way.” You turned back to her, noticing her hazel eyes trained in your direction, then shifted to the path in front of you. A few minutes of walking passed, and you’d picked up some pairs of eyes looking your way from people on the surrounding streets. It was more of a side eye glance than a stare, but still you noticed it. After being terrified to leave the four walls of the apartment, being perceived was a bit more intimidating than you thought it’d be. You slowed your steps, letting Tess catch up with you. 
“Um, Tess?” You mumbled, glancing back towards her. 
“What’s up?” 
“All these people keep staring...” 
Tess surveyed the area before noticing something you hadn’t, and she chuckled. 
“They’re not looking at you, they’re staring at me.” You did a quick glance back and forth, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. 
“Are you sure?” 
“I’m sure. Let’s keep going.” You turned back after nodding to her, hiding the tiny smile that snuck its way onto your lips. It was almost like walking with a scary dog at your side, except said scary dog was the taller woman trailing behind you. 
From the way multiple pairs of eyes shot in her direction, some glazed over, some didn’t notice as you passed by. Other pairs of eyes widened as they fell on the figure of the woman behind you. You don’t know how she’s done it, but Tess Servopolous has the Boston QZ wrapped around her finger. It seemed everyone–including Joel Miller himself– had themselves under her spell. They did whatever she wanted the moment she asked. There was no second guessing her, and when she said to do something, you were damn well to do it. You learned the hard way during your healing process, stubborn and complaining that you couldn’t get around on your own. 
One night when you were bickering, she’d tried to convince you that you weren’t ready to try and walk on your bad ankle yet. Stubborn and impatient, you kept talking back to her. 
“Don’t even try to get up.” 
You’d been overstressing yourself about getting back on your feet, so as to find another way to keep smuggling. 
“Watch me.” You had hoisted yourself off the couch halfway, then used the last of your stamina to pull yourself the rest of the way up. The first step you took was with your good foot, but the minute you stepped with the other, you groaned and stumbled from the pain, landing on the ground. 
“I told you…” Tess was at your side before you could attempt to move yourself back to the couch.
Gentle and slow, her hands around your body were familiar as if you’d known them to be the hands of a long time lover. They were just Tess’s hands, but to you, they couldn’t hurt or kill any more than they could wash over your injuries with a soft touch. When you got a better look at her for the first time, you saw the kindness in her eyes, and her heart in the actions she took towards you. 
Common human decency was to take care of someone injured or sick, but you felt something different in the way she tended to you. It was in the way she used her hand to lift up your chin to check how your cuts were healing. Especially when she inspected the one on your lip for a bit too long, claiming it was healing fast and that you shouldn’t try to open it again. All you could hear when she spoke was your own heart beating in your ears, lost in the hazel of her eyes. She’d even found you a cane, but you paid it no mind and kept letting her help you instead.
“I’d hate to feel like a burden…” 
“It’s alright, I don’t mind taking care of you.” A warmth flushed through your cheeks when her words hit your ears. 
You could tell somewhere deep down, Tess used to care for people as easy as breathing. From the way she knew so much about patching others up, she wanted to keep people going, no matter the circumstances, you knew she cared much more than she showed. 
Being on your feet again, outside those same bland apartment walls brought a new feeling you weren’t able to identify. It was different not walking alone for once in the streets, always having to glance over your shoulder just in case. Now when you looked over your shoulder, you saw Tess, and you hoped she’d stay in your life for longer than just when you were healing from your injuries. She meant too much to you to just forget about after she’d been by your side the whole time. 
The route to your apartment wasn’t far from where Tess lived, and you were there within no time. It was a bit overwhelming once you came up to the door, fidgeting with the keyring until it clicked into the lock. 
“Well, here we are.” You opened the door, stepping into the stale air of your place. Things were as you’d left them, with a few odds and ends out of order from when Tess had stopped by for some of your toiletries. All your knickknacks were scattered about, some across the countertops and any spare surface you could find. Some, if not most, were collected on the road, and others were from your home when you first fled. 
“Nice place you got here.” 
“You should know, being the only person to be here besides me in the past few weeks.” you chuckle, shoving your keys back in your jeans pocket. They actually happened to be Tess’s, but you couldn’t tell the difference anymore. She didn’t mind either.
She’d been contemplating a lot on the walk over, worried about what might happen when you were fully healed. Tess knew there was a problem when her heart warmed at the sight of you sleeping peacefully on the couch, then remembered what you’d been through and wanted to burn the whole QZ down. 
It was almost gone when you started to heal, until she couldn’t sleep thinking about what could happen to you when you went back out there. A wave of restlessness washed over her, and it’d been very hard to accept the fact that you could end up right back where she found you. 
“Guess you’re right.” Tess muttered, stepping into the cool air of the apartment. 
“I’ll be a minute, gonna grab some clothes and then we can head back.” You spoke, her eyes trailing down your back as you walked into the other room. Silently, she moved about the main room, her eyes catching all the different little objects around the space. Tess didn’t know how you had time to collect all these different things– from shells to rocks to other small toys and charms that lay about– there was no shortage of oddities. Before she knew it, she was standing in front of your open bedroom door. Timidly, she peeked inside to see you rustling through a few drawers and shoving clothes into a backpack. 
“Nice… room. Cozy.” You glanced up at her for a moment while folding the clothes to put in your bag. 
“Thanks, I tried to make it as home-y as possible. Makes up for the whole quarantine zone thing.” 
“I get it.” Tess chewed the inside of her lip nervously, stepping into the room slightly, leaning one of her arms against the doorframe.
“Do you? That place of yours is barely decorated.” You snarked, trying to cover up how aware you were of how domestic she looked standing in your bedroom doorway. She was perfect with the light beams of sunlight peeking over her shoulder. 
“Guess stuff like that doesn’t really matter to me.” 
But she wanted it to matter; she wanted it to matter to her so desperately. For you, she’d do anything– put up with whatever you threw at her, because she cared. There wasn’t a way to tell when Tess noticed this fire burning inside her, lit aflame by your out righteousness. 
She pined to see reminders of you every day when she wakes up. To see you when she opened her eyes in the morning. You’d simply been indented into her mind, and refused to give way. 
“Y’know, you’re still welcome at my place after you get back on your feet. Seriously. My place is yours.” Tess took a step into your room nervously. 
“Oh, well thanks. That means a lot. I mean… I’m really grateful for everything you’ve done for me. It’s not like we won’t see each other ever again. I’ll probably spend most nights at your place when we start working together.” 
I would never want to stop coming around you either way… 
On the instance of becoming friends with the woman who saved your life, it occurred to you quite rapidly that the feelings you had for her weren’t just appreciation. It shouldn’t have been that easy to realize you wanted her… to be entranced with her in a way so distracting. Some days you weren’t sure if you were actually feeling better on account of listening to every groove of her voice streak through your mind with no return. You could hardly believe she was standing in your apartment as of today, let alone sharing a space so intimate as your bedroom. 
“Besides… It's your apartment. You must both want your respective space back.” 
Tess sighed, masking the pit in her stomach when she thought about you on your own again. God forbid you ended up right where she found you; that would be a gut wrenching nightmare. It was already hard enough seeing you beaten up and barely hanging on to life. To even ponder the idea that it could happen again? She’d take absolutely no chances. 
Getting protective when you’ve known them for three weeks, Tess? Pretty weak to let someone in while you couldn’t protect the rest of them.
“Even when you do start working with us, you’ll be right between me and Joel. That way you’ll always have one of us on your six, watching your back. We’ll have your back.” She started with a small smile, while simultaneously ignoring the voice in her head. You met her eye and nodded with a smile, zipping your bag shut. 
“Very considerate of you, Tess. But if you don’t teach me how to hold my own, I’ll start practicing on Joel.” You slung your bag across your shoulder, watching as Tess followed you out. 
“Oh, I’ll definitely teach you. Joel will just have to be fine with being the dummy.” She followed with a chuckle, taking another look at the interior of your bedroom like she would never see it again. 
“Well, don’t worry. I’ll still be on your couch tonight.” You said, before walking out the door and locking it behind Tess. 
The only epiphany Tess had that day was that she never wanted you to leave. Never wanted to lose sight of you, never wanted to be without you, could never even imagine losing you. Tess had stuffed all those warm feelings down in a tight little box that sat on a dusty shelf in the back of her mind. When she would revisit the idea of actually having a chance with you, she was unsure. But she’d do her damndest in the meantime to shove away those pesky butterflies in her stomach. 
It would be a long, long time before she revisited that box again. 
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a/n: i linked it at the top but i will link it here as well, this is a prequel to another one of my fics called long long time. You can find that fic here and all my other tess fics here!
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moonartemisia · 3 months
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Are you mine tonight? *.♡
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✧.*.•° So tell me is it real love you've been feelin' too? Tell me is it my heart you've been hearin' too? °•.✧.*
20 ┊ ┊ INFJ ┊ ┊♋️☼♈️☾♊️↑↑┊ ┊major spoilers ahead ┊ ┊SFW/NSFW
Greetings, I am Elise, the moon's ✧.* MASTERPIECE ✧.*
Resident of @enchantedforest-network
╰┈➤ main pinned post °•.✧.*
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amandamariee · 14 days
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FIC RECS
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as of.....[04/15/2024]
☼ jason grace (the loml)
distance makes the heart grow angrier by @balletfilmss
he's an all american boy by @aezuria
take a break, catch a nap, have a snack by @hopelesslyromanticshark
rain rain go away don't come back another day by @hopelesslyromanticshark
i am my fathers son by @hopelesslyromanticshark
through a loving gaze by @pumpkinbxtch
so american (grecian) by @hopelesslyromanticshark
sweet on you by @supercutszns
the two times percy nearly caught them, and the one he did by @hopelesslyromanticshark
so obsessed with your ex by @balletfilmss
going to school with bf jason by @juneberrie
☼ leo valdez (i need him in my life)
my boyfriend is my wallet by @sunnitheapollokid
property of leo valdez by @hopelesslyromanticshark
normal teenage things by @hopelesslyromanticshark
king of my heart by @pinkdiorluvr
the fish like your shirt by @hopelesslyromanticshark
☼ percy jackson (#1 book boyfriend)
home to her (smau) by @balletfilmss
save a turtle, fall in love, all in a days work by @hopelesslyromanticshark
the same type of blue by @aryxchse
the hot lifeguard by @aryxchse
sweater weather by @heartss4val
talk to me by @enviedear
i've got you by @triptuckers
☼ luke castellan (i can fix him)
i loved you in secret (smau) by @lizlovestofangirl
one year with luke castellan by @tangledinlove
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rypnami · 1 month
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sebastian sallow headcanons
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some of my personal headcanons for (one of) our favourite slytherin boys <3 these are all just how i see him, other hcs are more than welcome! pic by @/hogwartslegacypics
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his love language is physical affection. after the deaths of his parents, he didn’t receive much and so he makes up for it by lavishing it upon those he cares about
i mentioned this in another post, but i believe his boggart would be a dementor- a manifestation of his guilt over what happened in the catacomb, and his fear of being found out + sent to azkaban
he’s a raging bisexual
^ he is a ridiculous flirt, UNLESS it’s to someone he actually fancies. then he completely flounders
he’s a pretty good rule-follower unless it’s a rule he thinks is stupid. unfortunately, he thinks most rules are, in fact, stupid
he is a gemini. i don’t know anything about zodiacs or astrology i’ve just decided this because it’s the twin one bahahaha
favourite disney film would be the little mermaid
he’s definitely a seeker
adding onto that, he probably thinks most sports are dumb, but quidditch has a special place in his heart. probably some fond childhood memories of his parents first teaching him to ride a broom etc
massive sweet tooth. probably favours chocolate above anything BUT all sweets are good by him
although he’s mischievous i don’t think he’s exactly a person that pulls pranks. he’s just the guy that wherever he goes, chaos is sure to follow
he’s smarter than half the professors but pretends not to be because he enjoys being in class
yeah he’s basically a nerd. not even a HC that’s just canon
he has ADD
after the events of 5th year he puts on a brave face but actually is completely emotionally ruined over it and often uses the undercroft to cry privately
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robeau · 3 months
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a thing I drew for my partner <3
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13 notes · View notes
peachysooxo · 3 months
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The Kingdom of Us
Chapter 5
pairing: kyungsoo x OFC genre: Royal!AU, nonidol!soo, crownprince!kyungsoo, romance, drama theme: arranged marriage, modern royalty, enemies to lovers, war, betrayal, eventual smut word count: 4,920 description: Alina finally opens up to Kyungsoo, while Kyungsoo takes a chance and shows another side of himself to Alina. warnings: mature themes, mentions of sex, mentions of SA, non consensual sex, abuse, minors DNI
author’s note: hello dear friend! Thank you so much for being so patient and so lovely. I am very proud of the next few chapters, I worked really hard to give you the absolute best. Also, dear reader, this chapter does contain mentions of SA. I will NEVER include any details, however if what this chapter contains is upsetting to you, please look for the red asterisk (*) that signifies the beginning and end of the description so it can be skipped over. I don’t want anyone to be uncomfortable when reading my stories. Please take care of yourselves, your mental health matters more to me than a read. Photos are not mine, dividers by @saradika-graphics . please enjoy this chapter.
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ALINA
“Aren’t you so pretty? Who’s my pretty girl?”
“No… No! Please, don’t do this!” I beg and frantically claw at my faceless attacker. I can sense who he is, I know the scent of his expensive cologne and the pressure of his hands holding me down. He’s everywhere and nowhere all at once. I try everything to get out from under him. Any time my hands met the fog that was the face, it would take shape again of the monster that tortured me every single night. A slap stings my cheek, and a hand crushes my windpipe. Pain spirals all over my body and I regret fighting in the first place, it only meant it would get worse from here. 
“Stay there, Pretty. It’s our little secret. Princess, you’re so pretty…”
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I scream in bed and desperately take in my surroundings to make sure that I’m not in my bedroom in Valencia. The scent of vanilla and bergamot accompanied with the minimalist, muted decor assures me that I’m in Seoul. The pressure squeezes my chest and my trembling hands clutch the sheets close to my body, my lungs desperate for oxygen. The vice in my chest tightens as I frantically attempted to gain control of my breathing. Tears sting my eyes as the walls cave in around me. The door bursts open and my eyes slowly adjust to the light filtering in from my common room, a halo forms around the silhouette of a man.
Kyungsoo. 
“Princess, what happened? Why are you screaming?!” He rushes toward me and I jump back, trying all that I can to comfort my trembling on my own. I can’t feel him gather me in his arms. If there was a way to cure this dizziness, I’d take it in an instant because the whole room spinning is messing with my head. I grip Kyungsoo’s elbows tight, trying to come back to earth. The separation began between my mind and body to the point that I watched myself from another point of view. Colors blur and blend together, sounds muffle and any touch can’t be felt until my entire world was abstract and distorted. I was vulnerable, something I never wanted to be in front of him. 
“Hey, hey… Shhh…” Kyungsoo’s velvety rich voice slowly brings the balance back to my body. In my weakened state, I curl into his arms and sob. My maids rush into the room and stop short at the sight of Kyungsoo. They bow their heads out of obedience and I bury my head in Kyungsoo’s chest. “Where are Princess Alina’s guards?”
Guards? I’m supposed to have guards?
“Your Highness… There were no guards assigned to this wing of the palace.” A maid nervously responds with her head down. Kyungsoo’s muscles tense and he grips me tighter. 
“What in the hell do you mean there’s no guards?”
“It was at Her Royal Highness Queen Hyunae’s command that her chambers have additional guards, Your Grace.” The other maid squeaked. I’ve had no guards this entire time?
 “Princess Alina needs guards just as much as anyone else in this palace does! Please, leave us. If there are no guards, I will guard her myself.” He growls. His hand strokes my hair and settles on the back of my head. 
“But Your…”
“Go, now. That is an order.” Kyungsoo bellows, his voice reverberating against my cheek. As soon as the door closes, Kyungsoo settles on the bed in front of me and fastens his hands on my arms. I float back down into my body, the head rush of consciousness coming back to me. Every time I woke from the nightmares, I floated above myself until I felt nothing. I chased that feeling, it’s what kept me safe from the panic attacks. Being suspended in nothing felt better than feeling every ache of the past. Then Kyungsoo came along and invaded my senses. He was real. His presence forces me to feel. The things he makes me feel are foreign, confusing and at the same time so welcomed. I don’t know what to do with that.
“Princess, what happened? Did you see something outside? Are you hurt?” Kyungsoo asks while gently touching my face. I look into his eyes and search for the motive. Why is he here? Why is he touching me like he cares about me? I can’t do anything else but stare at him and do my best to control my breathing. I rapidly shake my head and put my head down. “Was it a nightmare?”
“Yes.” I utter under uneasy breaths. Kyungsoo peers at me as if he’s losing himself in his own thoughts. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, Princess. I’m glad I was nearby,” Kyungsoo assures in a low tone. “You have these a lot, don’t you?”
“Every night, if I can sleep.” I wearily reply. Kyungsoo doesn’t say a word, he just holds me. His touch soothes the ache within me and brings a sense of security. I am so dumbfounded at the calming affect this man has on me. Even in my anxiety-filled haze, the confusion pulls me in so many directions. It’s the same song and dance, the same questions over and over. I take a breath and look down at our hands, his thumbs rub soft lines across my white knuckles. With each caress, I loosen my grip on the sheets. I’m sure that the exhaustion starts talking with what comes out of my mouth. 
“I don’t want to be alone.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Kyungsoo assures me with soothing words as he sits behind me. He kicks off his shoes, takes off his suit jacket and guides my head to rest on his chest. I don’t know what is going on with him, but it’s a very vast and sudden change from just this week alone. His fingers stroke my hair and his heartbeat creates a lullaby that starts lulling me to a calm state. My heavy eyes close while my mind focuses on each slow breath Kyungsoo takes. He inhales sharply and his lips imprint a kiss on my head. He must think I can’t hear him, but the truth seeps out of his mouth like honey.
“You don’t know what you’re doing to me, Princess. I’m a jerk for being so horrible to you. We have not been made more acquainted due to my own stubbornness. Darling, you awakened something in me the moment we kissed. Baekhyun says I should accept these feelings. I’m doing my best, Princess. Please be patient with me… Because I want to know what it’s like to love you.” 
Kyungsoo wants to fall in love with me. He, of all people, wants to fall in love with me. He won’t want to for much longer, especially not after he learns the truth.  I have to tell him before he finds out the situation on his own. 
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When I woke up the next morning, two royal guards were outside of my door and Kyungsoo was nowhere in sight. Did I hallucinate the entire thing? It’s possible. I changed from my pajamas to an A line cream-colored dress as maids prepared my things for the trip to the Capital Castle. Kyungsoo and I were making our official public appearance today for our Engagement Celebration ahead of the Ball. My thoughts are dilapidated like the aftermath of a hurricane, I don’t know what’s gotten into Kyungsoo and it’s useless to try and figure it out at this point. I barely finished my makeup when a maid enters my room. 
“The car is here, Your Highness. The Crown Prince is waiting for you.” 
“Thank you, I’ll be there shortly.” I smile graciously. I check my hair and dress one more time and leave the comfort of my room. The thought of Kyungsoo staying with me all night kept flashing in my mind. His gentle words tingle my skin and the memory of his arms holding me close to his chest are stuck in my head. What was odd to me was that he was on the top floor of the palace. He has never been up there, at least for as long as I’ve been here. I see Kyungsoo waiting for me in front of the car, and there’s no denying that he looks devilishly handsome. One of my weaknesses has now become his tailored suits, this navy-colored one in particular. His hair is slicked back and a soft smile greets me. 
“Good morning, Princess. You look lovely today.” What in the hell is going on?
“Good morning. As do you, your Grace.” I say coolly. Kyungsoo opens the door for me and we sit across from each other in silence. His eyes drift up from his phone to me a few times and then a sigh escapes his lips after a few minutes.
“Were you comfortable with last night?” Kyungsoo asks.
“It was awkward at first, but I appreciated it. The… Attention is new for me. I also didn’t know I was supposed to have guards. I haven’t had them from the beginning.”
“As of this morning, that changed. I had a very long discussion with my mother about her poor decision making and she will be formally apologizing to you. From now on, you will not only have the standard protocol for guards, but you’ll also have double.” Kyungsoo assures me. 
“Crown Prince, you don’t have to do all of this.” I mutter nervously.
“Why do you keep saying that, Princess?” Kyungsoo inquires, suspicion in his voice.
“It’s because…”
“We have arrived, Your Highnesses.” The driver announces, I’m grateful because our greetings to the subjects just bought me more time. 
“We’ll talk later, Your Grace.” I reply shakily. Kyungsoo takes my hand and laces our fingers together. He holds it tighter than before but I don’t mind it. He takes the first step out of the car and leads me to stand at his side. His arm wraps around my waist, taking liberties I’d only prayed about before but now don’t know what to make of them.
“Ready to meet our subjects, Princess?”
I nod silently and take in the sights around me, and the loud shouts of the people celebrating our engagement in the streets. The Engagement Celebration was in full swing, Seoul gave their people the day off to observe such an important event. A Royal Wedding can boost morale during a time full of tension and uncertainty. People were gathered for miles to see our arrival downtown. The Capital Castle stood so regally amongst the high-rise buildings in the Downtown District of Seoul. I marvel at the reds and greens of the paint, the massive curving in the roof’s high towers and the gold etchings and statues greeting us at the fortress gate. Despite being in the center of the chaotic city, it was tranquil. 
We wave to the sea of people cheering and shouting our names. Kyungsoo gripped my waist tighter as we greeted some of the subjects, the women coo at how “protective” he is. These royal greetings are exciting, and the warm welcome soothed any uncertainty that I’ve had about the people not approving of me.  
“You’re doing great.” Kyungsoo encourages me, in a tone that’s low enough for only me to hear. We make our way inside the castle and go straight to the balcony. There was an undeniably enigmatic feeling around the castle. It’s fascinating to see Seoul citizens waving my Kingdom’s flag with theirs. Will they continue to support me? I don’t want to let all of these people down. The pressure feeds my anxiety, I shake it off and focus on the moment with Kyungsoo by my side.
The kiss changed everything. It was liberating. Kyungsoo meant it, I know he did. The imprint of his lips still remained on mine. It was so hard to fully surrender my heart to him, he never gave me a reason to trust him. Kissing him was fun and elating but I didn’t understand where this sudden change came from, or why he wants to fall in love with me. His late-night confession left me even more confused than what I was before. 
There was no telling how much I desired to feel his lips on mine again. To hear his voice as he whispers softly to me. I craved him more than I ever had before because of the taste he’d given me. 
We step out and the crowds cheer for us. We wave and greet our subjects, Kyungsoo secures his hand on my back. His fingers trace small circles, a soothing touch for the overwhelming screaming and cheering of the people below us. He leans close to my ear, whispering sweetly with a smile. “They love you, Princess.”
I smile and hope that our subjects will still have a liking toward me as time goes on. We spend a few more minutes greeting the massive crowds and return back inside.  An awkward beat passes, and I know I’m putting off the inevitable. Kyungsoo steps in front of me and my thoughts come to a halt. “What do you have to tell me, Princess? We were interrupted when we arrived.” 
I don’t know if I’m ready to tell you. “I…”
“Come on, let’s go to my chambers. We can speak there.”
“I don’t know how to say it, I just know I have to before our betrothal goes any further. First, I want to apologize for how you found me last night. I wasn’t expecting your kindness, Crown Prince. Though, there is something that has been following me around that unfortunately caught up with me. I prefer that you heard the truth from me, and you can… Deal with it however you see fit.” I mumble nervously as we walk to Kyungsoo’s chambers. Hesitation tries to weigh down my steps but Kyungsoo takes me by the hand. We walk from the common room to his bedroom and he shuts the door.
“What are you talking about?” Kyungsoo crosses his arms. My eyes start to water and I try to turn away but Kyungsoo stops me. I shamefully turn to face him, shrinking smaller and smaller the more he looks at me. He sits on the bed and I stay standing without letting go of his hands. “Tell me what’s on your mind, Princess.”
“Last night was the first time I’ve had a decent night’s sleep in I don’t know how long. There was something there between us that I can’t describe, Crown Prince. But… I can’t fully give myself to this betrothal. I can’t let you or anyone else in. I’m… Scared all of the time.”
"Of what? Is it Prince Gustavo? If it is I’ll…”
I chew at my lip and won't meet Kyungsoo's gaze. Tears streak my cheeks and the numbness starts to begin. "No, not Prince Gustavo. It’s… King Daniel."
"King Daniel? Why?" I hear the words fall out of Kyungsoo’s mouth like gravel, his jaw tensely. His tone makes my chest ache. I instantly regret saying anything at all. 
"It’s… The King is the reason why I can’t sleep. I'm unclean, Your Highness." I mutter, letting go of Kyungsoo’s hands.
"Unclean? That's not possible." Kyungsoo crosses his arms, his voice adopting a softer cadence. I can’t get a read on this entire situation. It makes the numbness sink deeper to accompany the vice of anxious adrenaline in my chest. He takes my hand and brings me closer to him. "Look at me, darling. There won’t be a consequence for what you tell me. What happened?”
Just breathe, Alina. There’s no going back now. I take a deep breath, my posture weakening at the weight of the burden I carry. I nervously meet his gaze and prepare myself for the unknown.
“He… He took something that was supposed to be yours. The media believed the Azteco Crown’s rumor mill and the things they spread about me wanting him and all of the lies. I’m sure you’ve seen the embarrassingly false headlines. I never wanted him. I never wanted any of this to happen.” My voice gets unsteady and Kyungsoo sighs. 
“You’re safe, Princess. Please. Only tell me what you’re comfortable with me knowing.” Kyungsoo’s encouraging words lure me into safety. 
*"King Daniel… He… Assaulted and abused me since I was 15. Any chance he got, he’d hurt me. He would make inappropriate comments to me when my parents and brothers weren’t around. He’d force himself on me and tell me that I made him do it. That I wanted it. I promise you that I never did. I didn’t know what I was doing, all I knew was that I didn’t want any of it.
Daniel threatened to have my family killed if I said anything against him, he threatened my Abuelita and my mother the most. Then… He said you’d know. That every time you’d look at me, you’ll know I’m unclean because of what he’d do to me. You’ll have me sent away or have me killed. That I’ll be the reason the Doh Dynasty falls apart. I don’t want to ruin your family. I don’t want to bring embarrassment to your name and reputation. Crown Prince… I am so sorry.” Anger, fear and dread hold my breath hostage. No matter how hard I try, the breath won’t enter my lungs. Kyungsoo looks away from me, my mind coming undone at the possibilities of what may come next. He brings me down to his level and pulls me into his arms. Once he secures me in his hold, sobs burst from my chest.*
“Breathe.” His whispers in my ear.
"I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry..." I shakily repeat. 
“Look at me. What I want is for you take a breath. Slowly… Good. Breathe...” Kyungsoo soothes, fire raging in his eyes. “You’re not an object. You can’t be sent away. That’s not true and never was. I don’t want you to go anywhere, darling. I’ll say it again. You’re not ruined for me. You are pure. What that disgusting animal did to you was not your fault. You didn’t ask for it. I could never hold the actions of a man who should know better against you.”
I allow Kyungsoo’s words to settle in my bones and instinctively grab on to him, burying my head in his chest and allow myself to cry. His hand rubs my back slowly, his lips brush against my temple. No words were exchanged, there was no need for them. His touch spoke for him, his heavy breaths allowing me to feel emotions I buried deep inside of me. He just lets me fall apart in his arms. Waves of warmth encircle me in a soft embrace, a feeling that I’ve never known until Kyungsoo held me for the first time. He scoots back and studies my face. Pain riddles his expression, guilt entrapping me for burdening him with something that wasn’t even his problem.
“Thank you for believing me, Crown Prince.” I rasp. 
“Of course I believe you. Don’t thank me for that. I want you to feel comfortable with me. You don’t need to call me by my title in private. May I call you Alina when we’re alone?” I nod slowly. We hold each other in a gaze for a moment, I’m the first to look away. He leaves a kiss on my cheek and makes sure my attention is brought back to him.
“Alina, I’m going to take care of you. No one will hurt you again. Not that bastard of a king or anyone else. I’ll have guards at every entry point and each inch of the perimeter of this castle if I have to. You’re safe with me.” Kyungsoo’s hand caresses mine in an attempt to soothe me. The silence around us is tranquil like ocean waves rolling onto the shore, the first feeling of solace that I could hold on to. The feeling of being in this man’s embrace gave me something I’d been searching for: comfort. Like a morning glory blooming in the face of the sun, something is shifting in between Kyungsoo and I. It’s blooming slowly basking in the warmth of these feelings that are encircling us. 
“Thank you.” I offer a smile and Kyungsoo nods slowly.
“Is this too much?” He asks, scooting back from me. I take Kyungsoo’s hand and pull him back.
“No. We have to start somewhere, Kyungsoo. I’m happy you believe me, and I’m relieved that we’re entering a new agreement instead of the one we had before. Situations like ours don’t come with time to get to know one another fully, but we have a chance to start over now that our cards are on the table.” I explain. I stick out my hand between us and exhale. “Hi, I’m Alina. It’s nice to meet you.”
Kyungsoo smiles and takes my hand, kissing my knuckles the same way he did when we first met. “Hello, Alina. Nice to meet you. I’m Kyungsoo.”
“This is nice,” I laugh awkwardly, unsure of how to transition to a new subject. I don’t want to talk about the past anymore. “But honestly, thank you for everything. It means a lot that you’re doing all of this for me and being kind. You’re showing another side that I never knew existed.”
“This is just the beginning, Princess.”
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The rest of the day went by in a blur of last-minute waltz rehearsals, dinner and some wedding planners wanted to meet with me to start finalizing details. It felt odd that we’d be discussing something that’s so far away, but I have to remember there’s 2 months left to go. Sure, we could get married sooner, but most of the time that happens with betrothals that end in love matches. What Kyungsoo and I have definitely isn’t a love match. Overall, today has been a very odd day, and it’s going to shape up to be an even more odd night.
“May I come in?” Kyungsoo’s voice pierced through the door. Groaning, I get up from the couch and pace toward the door. I open it and see Kyungsoo in a most unnatural form: casual in a black baggy t shirt and plaid pajama pants. Kyungsoo’s eyes drift up and down at the nightgown I chose to wear for bed with a cheeky smile. “Is your favorite color blue?”
“Why?” I tilt my head. 
“You wear it a lot. I like how it looks on you.” He replies with a reddish tint on his cheeks, letting himself in. 
“Thank you, Your Grace… I mean Kyungsoo.” I lower my head to hide my own red cheeks. “Not that I don’t appreciate your visit, but what are you doing here?”
“I’m staying in here tonight.” 
“What? Why?” I gasp. Kyungsoo walks over to the fireplace and warms his hands by it. I follow him and he reaches his hands out to me. 
“I don’t want to leave you alone.” Kyungsoo shrugs as if it’s the most obvious solution in the world. 
“Where is this coming from?” I ask carefully. 
“Alina, we were getting nowhere before. We would just bicker and say hurtful things to each other. This isn’t going to work unless we both give an honest effort before resorting to a platonic relationship. You need to realize that I’ve grown very fond of you. You are also becoming the Crown Princess of this Kingdom. You have a value that you don’t even realize that you possess not only to me, but to our Kingdom. I want you to be 100% certain of something: what happened to you will never change how I see you. It wasn't your fault. You must know that there is a stipulation for all of the protections you need, a price to pay.”
I look up at Kyungsoo, reading his eyes. My heart pounds in my chest as I try to remember what Seoul Law says about something like this, if there is anything for such a situation. “What do I have to do?”
“We have to get married as soon as possible. You need to be Crown Princess in order to be properly taken care of and safe.” Kyungsoo sighs. 
“As soon as possible? When is that?” 
“October 12th.”
“But that’s next week! That is beyond sudden!” I shout. 
“I know. That’s why I arranged for the wedding planners to come today, and they’re working to complete everything in time. Good thing your seamstress is arriving tomorrow just in case you need any adjustments.” Kyungsoo coolly replies. 
“This is impossible.” I start pacing, and Kyungsoo catches my wrist in his hand. 
“This is the meaning of mutually beneficial. Trust me. At the Ball we’ll announce we’re getting married a lot sooner than originally planned. We… We have to make it seem as though it’s for love.” Kyungsoo explains.
“You don’t have to do this.” I insist. Kyungsoo reaches out and brushes his fingers along my cheek and I don’t fight it. 
“I have to. You have every right to feel safe and secure. Leave it to me. Just because we’re getting married quick doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have what you want, I have you scheduled to meet with the wedding planners after the ball.”
“I just… I thought we’d have more time to figure our… Relationship out.” I scoff. Kyungsoo grips my hand tighter and stops walking, his gaze fixed on me. He studies my face and leans closer. 
“Darling, you said it yourself the day we met. You’re nothing but another nation’s princess until we’re wed. Whether you like it or not, you’re mine. I can admit that I am possessive of what’s mine, it’s a flaw that works in your favor. I’ll protect you. Even if that means marrying you a hell of a lot sooner than we wanted. We also have a lifetime to figure this relationship out.” Kyungsoo’s voice drops to a low rumble. 
“So, we’re going to be in our elderly age still getting to know each other? Sounds like a fun life.” I lean back and Kyungsoo chuckles softly. 
“You’re right. I’ll make a much better effort in spending quality time with you, darling. Not just so people can see us together. You look tired, come on. Let’s get you to bed.” With a kiss on my cheek, Kyungsoo turns the sheets down. I climb in bed with a dizzy head. 
My wedding is next week. 
I lay down and turn off the lights, cuddling into the sheets. 
I’m marrying Kyungsoo next week. 
He’s willingly marrying me to get me protections I don’t have as a foreign princess. I have no idea what’s going on with him but it’s making me soften my sentiments toward him. I watch him recline on the couch with his phone in his hand. The focus in his eyes tells me that it must be something serious so I turn away to give him his space.
My body is so exhausted that when I close my eyes I fall asleep a lot quicker than that I normally would. 
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“Let me go!” I scream, eyes shooting open from my ongoing nightmare.
“Alina!” Kyungsoo rushes to my side and I’m snapped from dream to reality. “You’re shaking, darling. Was it a nightmare?”
I nod and crave his eye contact. Once he gives me what I want, I try my best to focus on him. I’m frozen, but Kyungsoo sits behind me on the bed and secures me in his arms. “You don’t…”
“You need to sleep, darling. You’ve lacked sleep for so long.” Kyungsoo lowly comforts me. “I’ll shelter you from everything that can harm you as you sleep. Trust in me, Alina.”
Trust me.  You need to learn to trust me.  Trust in me, Alina. 
I can’t help that my heart rate slows down when I’m in Kyungsoo’s arms. Contentment builds between us in the awkward state of being in bed together. I refuse to admit that I need him. I don’t want to acknowledge that this feels safe. It baffles me that someone who despises me wants me to trust them so badly. The numbness fades in the presence of him. No one else has been able to do that. 
“Alina, are you comfortable?” 
“Is it bad that I am?” I ask. 
“No, it’s not. You being comfortable in my arms isn’t bad. Darling, do you want me to stay here in bed with you?” Kyungsoo asks, his tone soft and gentle. I sigh and turn in his arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you last night, I’ll be better at that.”
“Is it bad that I want you this close to me?” I ask again. Kyungsoo shakes his head and sits beside me, pulling the sheets over his body. 
“We’ll be in the same bed this time next week, what difference does it make? Come here, Princess.” He holds his arms out and I nervously slide into them. Resting my head on his chest, draping my arm over his stomach, our legs intertwining and his embrace tighter than it was before completed the calming efforts Kyungsoo has on me. He strokes my hair and absolutely all of the anxiety in my body left me. “Rest, let me worry about your fears and anxieties. You’re not handling this alone anymore.”
“Thank you, Kyungsoo.” I hum. My eyes grow heavy. I fall asleep in Kyungsoo’s arms, a place that is slowly starting to feel like home.
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myjealouseyes · 1 month
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NAVIGATION!
—˚☽˚。⋆✮ BLUE! anti-jkr, aquarius, infp, they/she, music and art lover, hjp enthusiast.
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seaspringangel · 2 months
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。⋆。˚ ʚɞ ˚。⋆。 fandom list 。⋆。˚ ʚɞ ˚。⋆。
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