#i found a thing of 50 kiss prompts and spent a few days the other year writing little ficlets for half of them

[space-writes]

🌻!

(send me a sunflower and i'll reply with whatever I want)

i give to you: a sadghost snippet from the many many snippets i have of indulging in writing these two outside of the series

Faintly, he heard Sorrow murmur something under his breath. He wasn’t really paying attention, what with the kissing and the half-naked infernii tugging at his clothes. And then said half-naked infernii shoved hands under his shirt — hands that were blazing hot, enough to make him gasp and curse and jerk back. Sorrow didn’t remove his heated palms, grinning as he splayed fingers out over Vren’s ribs. “Why?” Vren hissed, certain he’d have burn marks in the shape of Sorrow’s hands. “You don’t like a little heat, avrai?” Sorrow slid his hands down, trailing fire, or at least what felt like it. Vren growled and grabbed at his wrists. “You have too many trinkets.” The infernii grinned. “Want to find out what else I can make my hands do?”

Valloroth taglist: @cherrybombfangirlwrites @memento-morri-writes @foxboyclit @lawful-evil-novelist @at-thezenith @morganwriteblr @fayeiswriting @serenanymph (ask to be +/-)

[chaotictarlos]

From the break-up era fic... I spent the morning going through this part and reworking some of it. I hope you guys enjoy this peak. 💙

----

Past Sundays’ would have found Carlos awake early and in the kitchen, making breakfast for him and TK because it was their favorite day. After TK got hurt again, they had made a promise to each other that they would always set aside one day of the week that would be their day. A day that they would set aside for time with each other, a day where their attention would only be on each other and they would ignore - within reason - outside forces. It took a lot of begging, graveling with their captains, and promises of picking up an extra shift if needed, but they were able to get Sunday’s off together so they could enjoy the act of just being together. It was important to both of them that they had one day to stop and enjoy each other’s company and remember that they were important to each other - not that that fact was often forgotten.

Carlos would always start with making a pot of coffee - a dark roast that both him and TK were found of. It always made Carlos chuckle to make it because he knew that TK was going to load it down with sugar and cream, ruining the taste of it in Carlos’ opinion, but he was still fond of how TK did it. He had given up on trying to convince TK to get one of the sweeter coffees so that he could add fewer things to it - and let the smell of it fill the townhouse. He would make himself a cup and enjoy the morning paper before he would start breakfast.

Sunday had become pancake day for breakfast. It hadn’t always been that way when they started setting the day aside for each other, and Carlos couldn’t remember what had prompted them to decided that they were going to have pancakes each Sunday, but it was enjoyable. Carlos liked to challenge himself and each week he would come up with different ways to make the pancakes so that they wouldn’t grow tired of it.

The smell of coffee and pancakes drifting through the townhouse would wake TK and he would wander into the kitchen, most often blanket still wrapped around his shoulders. TK would mutter a good morning, sometimes complaining that morning came too fast, and Carlos would wordlessly hand him a mug of coffee and kiss his temple. He would urge his sleepy boyfriend to go back to bed, and tell him he would bring breakfast to bed when it was down.

After a few more kisses were exchanged, Carlos would watch TK shuffle back to bed with a soft smile on his face. Hewould finish breakfast, make two plats and carry them into the bedroom on a tray. It was always a 50 / 50 chance whether TK would be awake and drinking his coffee, or asleep with his cup sitting on the nightstand beside him. If he was asleep, it was never tough to rouse him again and convince him to wake up for breakfast.

They would eat and laugh together and then later, with their dishes cast aside they would enjoy each other in bed before taking an after breakfast nap - or enjoy some sleepy morning sex - and then spend most of the morning cuddled in each other's arms.

It was always a time when they could just be together and enjoy being in love. Even when the townhouse burned down and they had to move in with Owen for a while, they still found ways to make their Sundays special to them. They might have looked different, but they were still filled with love and taking time to be together. It was the one little bit of normalcy they had when everything went up in flames.

That was before.

[celestialrry]

I wish you would write a fic where...

the main character is the daughter of a really important producer harry is working with and he has a major crush on her but 1) he doesn’t want her dad to feel like he’s taking advantage of her 2) she has a rule of not dating musicians

too young

OOOOOOHHHHHH

HIIII GUYS..... i started school again and honestly for the longest time i've had no inspiration to write but then i got this ask!!! (thank you for your patience anon ily) and was like i love this prompt but then i wrote the first part and had no idea how to continue it,,, but I finally finished it!! ε(♡'-')з (this is me giving you all my love and affection for sticking with me) 

(NOT EDITED)

2k

warnings: alcohol consumption

Harry was in a dilemma.

Usually, he could sweep all his issues under the rug, save them for another day, but this one... he couldn't do that. Not because he didn't want to, but because this problem was more than just a dust bunny on his hardwood floor.

Y/N was the problem.

Or to be more precise, his feelings for Y/N were the problem.

Harry had confidence when it came to his crushes. He was smooth, flirty, and snagged almost every single person he's caught feelings for.

But not Y/N.

No, she was almost unreachable, for quite a few reasons.

One, the only reason he knew her, met her, was through a producer he had been working with the past few months. Arlo was massive in the industry and Harry was flattered when Arlo approached him with interest in collaborating. And only a month into working together, he met Y/N.

Harry's head snapped towards the door that had just burst open, a girl barging into the studio that he had never seen before. She was gorgeous, he had to admit, but he couldn't ignore her blatant disrespect for coming in and making a scene while he, Arlo, and a few of his bandmates were working annoyed him to no end.

"Dad! Oh my god, you will not believe what just happened, I was on my way over here and I fucking bumped into Zach," The girl began ranting, approaching Arlo and huffing as she stood next to Arlo's chair. "Of all fucking people I could see just walking down the street, it had to be him. The world is against me today I swear. Anyways, I brought that drum pad you wanted."

She dug into her big brown bag that was slung over her shoulder and pulled out the music board, placing it on the table in front of Arlo.

"Where'd you see him, Y/N? We're about to go on break and I can leave and go kick his ass in," Arlo checked his watch. "7 minutes."

Y/N, Harry now knew her as, sighed and crossed her arms. "He's long gone by now, think he shit his pants when he saw me walking near him."

"Atta girl, thanks for bringing my board too," Arlo smiled up at her from his chair. He then turned to see Harry, and Mitch staring at the two of them. "Oh sorry guys, this is my daughter, Y/N. Y/N, this is Harry and Mitch."

She turned to look at them and smiled wide. "Nice to meet you!"

"You too." They both said in unison, looking at each other with a smile, before focusing back on Y/N.

"We'll be done soon, if you wanna go out and get lunch." Arlo said, turning back to his daughter.

"Sounds good, just text me," Y/N replied, giving him a smile before turning back to the boys. "Nice meeting you guys, again."

And before they could even respond she was gone.

Two, Y/N was younger than him. 6 years younger to be exact. It didn't seem like much, but when put into perspective, she was 21, only just being legally allowed to drink in the States, and Harry was 27. Practically 30, if you ask him, and he was positive Arlo would have his head if he found out Harry liked his daughter. 

And three, she doesn't date the people her dad works with. 

He had found this out one night when he, Arlo, Y/N, Mitch, and a couple other writers were hanging out at the studio, drinking some wine (she had even exclaimed that this would be her first time drinking red, and Harry was yet again reminded of her age) and chatting after a long day of working. 

Harry and Mitch were laughing with Arlo about the first time they met Y/N, and her comments about this “Zach” guy. 

“He’s my ex, and had worked with my dad on one shitty song that never got far because he’s just so-- music is just not his thing, to put it nicely. But he was an absolute asshole and after him I made rule to never date anyone Dad works with. It would just go terribly.” She explained, letting Arlo take a few more jabs at the guy before stopping him.

So yeah, Harry was in a dilemma. 

In all the time he’d known Y/N, he just kept falling for her. She was kind, funny, beautiful, lit up any room she walked into, and treated Harry like fine porcelain. 

She was just fucking perfect. 

｡:°ஐ

Y/N had probably been in a lot of worse positions than the predicament she was in now.

For example, that time her dad walked in on her and her ex making out in the studio, or her 21st birthday when she got completely wasted and almost got into the wrong car instead of her uber, and the next day found out that the man driving that car was actually a convicted criminal.

So there’s worse things that could happen than her liking Harry.

But it doesn't mean it wasn’t bad.

The thing is, Y/N didn’t fall for anyone easily. Her one and only ex Zach treated her like a queen until he could officially claim her as his. The flowers he gave her before every date remained at the shop and the consistent compliments turned into insults and muttered claims of discontentment. 

Hence why he was her ex. It took Y/N quite a long time to work up the courage to end things with him. He was her first kiss, first time, and first boyfriend. She was yet to find her first love, she never really loved Zach. The way he used to treat her in the beginning, she thinks she loved, but him? No, she would never call him her first love. 

So when Y/N’s time crush on Harry began to develop into real feelings in such a short span of time, it terrified her. She had really never felt this way about someone before; butterflies would erupt in her stomach every time he shot her a smile and her mind would erupt into pure chaos when his body brushed up against her own. 

So yeah, it could be worse, but it certainly wasn't good.

｡:°ஐ

Y/N enjoyed spending time at the studio with her dad, and surprisingly, spending time with her dad’s “co-workers”. Even though she didn't usually hang out with the pop stars and spent time mostly with the backing band/producers (they were usually 50 year old men, but they were pretty nice) she enjoyed herself fully, having lunch breaks and talking about where their children when to school and whatnot. 

Sometimes though, every blue moon, Y/N would hang out with a super star her dad was working with. Usually when most stars are at the studio all they did was record, which was understandable, but she never had the chance to meet a lot of them.

With Harry though, everything was different. It wasn’t just lunches at the studio, or dinner at someone’s house, no, tonight they were going out to a bar. 

It was completely unexpected too, they had just wrapped up a song, and Harry, being in a particularly good mood had yelled out about going to a bar to celebrate. Of course, Y/N ignored his shout, knowing she wasn’t invited, and after Arlo had said something about “not being able to party as much as I used to”, she gave her dad a hug good night and waved a little goodbye to the band. 

“Wait!” Harry had exclaimed, chasing after her in the hallway. “Where are y’going?”

Y/N’s eyes widened and she looked behind her before looking back at Harry. “I was just gonna head back home.”

Harry’s head tilted, and looked at her questionably. “Y’not comin’ to the bar with us?” He practically pouted.

Her brows shot up in surprise. “Oh! I- yeah I’ll go out with you guys.”

Which lead her here, decently tipsy, and sitting in a booth between Harry and Sarah, laughing at a story Adam had been telling. Every now and then she would glance over to Harry just to find his gaze already on her.

Her heart fluttered every time, and if Harry’s cheeks weren’t already flushed from the alcohol, Y/N would have noticed him blush every time they locked eyes as well. 

“M’gonna get another drink, does anyone want anything?” Y/N piped up, a resounding chorus of “no, thank you’s” answering her question. Except for Harry who spoke softly, “A beer? Go ahead and put it on my tab.”

She shook her head at him as he stood up to let her out of the maroon leather booth. “Can’t make you pay for that, I offered.” She said, standing to lock eyes with him yet again. 

“Nope,” He grinned. “You can, and you will.”

“But-”

“No buts.” He chuckled, giving her a dimpled smile.

Accepting her defeat she nodded and squeezed his arm with a murmured “Thank you.” before making her way to the bar.

Harry sat back down again, eyes trailing her figure as she walked away before looking back at the table to be met with knowing eyes. 

“What is it?” He asked, glancing around at everyone.

“You’re whipped, mate.” Charlotte grinned, everyone else nodding in agreement.

“What?! I am not.” Harry pouted, eyes flicking over to Y/N, who was making her way to the table, one drink in each hand, before back to everyone else. 

“She’s really sweet H, you should go for it.” Mitch said.

Harry shook his head, eyes now on Mitch. “I’m not interested in her like that, she’s way too young for me, anyways.”

Just then did he hear the soft hit of his beer and her cosmo land on the table. His gaze trailed up her hands to see Y/N’s shattered face. “Here.” She practically whispered to him.

“I just remembered I have an early class tomorrow, so I should go, but thank you guys for inviting me out.” Y/N explained in lighting speed as she leaned over Harry to grab her purse and toss is over her shoulder. 

Words of confusion were tossed around the table but she was already booking it out of there, leaving Harry just as devastated as she was.

“I think she heard you, H.” Sarah said, frowning. 

Harry let out a muttered “Fuck!” before taking out large bills from his wallet and tossing it on the table. “For my tab, m’sorry, I gotta go.” And he left just as fast as Y/N did, weaving through the tables and people before bursting out the door to see her standing on the street, arm wrapped around her waist and another holding her phone.

“Y/N!”

Her head whipped around to see Harry bustling towards her and she quickly wiped her eye as he approached.

“Wait, don't go,” He said, struggling to find the words. “We all want you to stay, I want you to stay.”

“I have to get to class Harry, plus, I’m too young to be staying out this late anyways.” She grimaced at her own words. 

He sighed, eyes flickering from her own to her lips then back again. “I-fuck, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

This time, she fully turned to face him, brows knitted in distress. “Then how did you mean it? Because honestly I don’t think there is another way to mean it.”

This was his only chance, Harry knew it. 

“I just, I tried for so long to tell myself it was wrong to feel this way about you because you’re so much younger than me, and m’pretty sure your father would have my head if he knew but m’fucking infatuated with you, Y/N. M’so sorry I said that earlier, age is my only excuse for not asking you out and it’s not a good enough excuse anymore.”

With this her mouth was gaped like a fish, and her face was akin to a deer caught in headlights. In a flash her arms were wrapped around his neck and he was holding her waist, reveling in her touch. 

“Oh, Harry,” She pulled away. “I really like you too.” And with that she pressed a swift kiss to his cheek, leaving him a blushing mess. 

“Good, thats... thats good.” He stammered.

“So,” she nudged his arm. “Y’gonna ask me out now?”

[masterwords]

burst the clouds

Summary: Hotch has a procedure and really really wants a purple slushy.

Warnings: hurt/medical procedure, food, sedatives

Pairings: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 2.9k

Notes: I basically cannot write right now, and I'm very sorry. I was just in the mood for very soft and very affectionate domestic Hotchgan. This centers around an outpatient scope, but it's all just SO SOFFFFFTTT. It all started because of the 50 Types of Kisses Prompt "One person pouting only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person" and snowballed from there.

***

“I hate this.”

It was just a scope, but then, anything could become a monster if you let it. Hotch didn't usually let it, didn't have time to stare down his monthly calendar and the scheduled appointments. It wasn't worth it, most of the time. Every appointment was written in pencil, easily erased and moved to another date in the swing of his yearly pendulum. It was lucky his doctor trusted him enough to talk to him by phone when it came time to renew certain medications, it was either that or he'd have to stop taking them after rescheduling enough times that he began getting threatening letters from the office. Profuse apologies helped placate them, and a new system was developed...but he would have to make some sacrifices on their behalf as well.

One of those was agreeing to semi-annual scans in place of a number of check-ups. All that to say, he really should be used to this by now, but after a week of worsening stomach pain (he called it discomfort, Derek told him to stop trying to find more palatable ways to describe it and give it the proper name) and more than a few nights spent sick in the bathroom or sleeping sitting up on the couch, he had to make time for his doctor.

Derek smiled easily, lounging in the waiting room chair. It was too early to be full, just a few old people sipping coffee from styrofoam cups and the two of them. Aaron was fidgeting, knee bouncing, counting holes in the ceiling. It was driving Derek more than a little crazy and taking all of his restraint not to pin his legs in place.

“They're gonna knock you out soon, take it easy.”

It wasn't easy, though. Hospitals were never easy, not with Aaron. They hadn't been easy before Foyet but they certainly got harder after. Emergencies were one thing, that rush of adrenaline or blissful unconsciousness relegated most of that fear to the back of the room where it belonged but these...the ones he could stare at on the calendar, or had time to prepare himself for, there was an uneasy week of walking on eggshells that lead up to a morning of landmines. The promise of sedation was only minimally appealing, he really needed to be knocked out for the entire week in preparation. At this juncture, sitting in the chair with what felt like a burning ball of lead in his stomach, the only positive he could figure was that at the end of it there might be relief from his pain. His discomfort, which had definitely gone beyond the scope of that word in the last two days. At first they had suggested an MRI, and it was still on the table if symptoms persisted without any findings and that was worse. He hated the machine, found lying still to be oppressive and difficult, was always a nervous wreck about the results, the thrumming of the machine hurt his ears. There was a laundry list that went on for ages, and never once included simple fear. He hated it because he was afraid in there. Unable to move, lost in his thoughts and to put it mildly, the thoughts that swirled through the pounding in his skull were always deeply unpleasant. If he could push past those, he had to focus intently on stopping the electrical pulses pulling his fingers together, a nervous habit of self-soothing that didn't just vanish because someone told you to hold still.

So, lost in contemplative silence, hoping and praying that this procedure would give them whatever answers he needed, his knee bounced until they called him back. Safely in the solitude of the hallway, Derek slipped his hand into Aaron's and continued walking. Rubber soles echoed in the corridor and Aaron rubbed his fingertips over Derek's knuckles instead of his own thumb, wearing at the skin and dancing over sinew and bone. Derek tensed his hand, pulsed his fingers and kept him moving forward only a few steps behind the nurse but in their own world.

A hospital gown and slipper socks with grippers, a small cup of shocking white pills that would be backed up by an IV later if needed, another chair, a quiet room. Aaron's knee bounced again, up and down, quickly while Derek tapped out a few emails. They were off for the day, but that didn't mean the work stopped. It was a constant torrent, even on weekends. Especially on weekends. As he neared the bottom of his mailbox, Aaron's knee slowed and he peered over to catch heavy lids and slow blinking, the look of fear receding and being replaced by a tired reluctance to accept his fate.

“You're thinking about that slushy I promised, aren't you?”

Aaron hummed and let his head drop back against the wall, eyes drifting shut in sleepy contemplation. He shivered and folded his arms over his chest, tucked his hands in tight. “Grape.” It was going to feel good. They promised his throat wouldn't be too sore afterward, but he'd had enough experience to know otherwise. It was going to burn, and he hadn't eaten anything since dinner the night before...that slushy was the holy grail as far as he was concerned. It was pulling him through. He salivated just thinking about it, though the drugs may have been more to blame for that. In truth, it was the first thing that didn't turn his stomach in days and in many small ways he knew he was making too much of it but as the dense fog settled over his senses, that burden didn't weigh too much.

By the time he was in the wheelchair, he was swimming in a pool of icy grape flavored purple dreams and smiling. “Love you,” he mumbled and Derek leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“Be nice to them back there.”

All Derek could think as they wheeled Aaron away from him was that he should have said he loved him back.

He couldn't really blame himself, though. The ultrasound shouldn't take too long, an hour to insert the little camera on its string down his throat, take some pictures and give him back. At least that was how Derek chose to think about it, because if he got more technical about it (as Spencer had, many times, over the last few days because it isn't a camera on a string, it's an endoscopic ultrasound and see...he tuned him out at a certain point, mostly for Spencer's safety) it made his own stomach hurt. Derek thought he'd done a good job of not showing his own mounting fear. The same fear that gnawed at him each time, what if they find something? What if a routine check shows them something terrible? As Aaron had calmed, as his pulsed slowed and they brought in the wheelchair to take him back, Derek had looked down and saw that his own knee was bobbing with some ferocity where it hadn't before. His heel clicked against the linoleum floor and his ears heard the faint echo of a word. A name, chanted in the cadence of his anxiety. Foyet. Foyet. Foyet. A call from Jessica asking if Aaron had decided on a flavor, if they had any idea how long it would be so she'd make it back in time after dropping Jack off for a soccer game he assured them it was okay to miss and he was distracted enough to pace a little in the small waiting area. Pacing was better than the bouncing knee. Pacing was productive, it was moving, it took real time. That damn bouncing knee was nervous energy he couldn't afford.

Jess arrived with her hands full right on time, at least the time they'd been given. A huge hot coffee for Derek and a purple slushy for Aaron that she sat on a small end table covered in out of date magazines. They paced together, going over the plan for the day, the rest of the weekend, what the prognosis might look like. A lot of useless speculation.

“Jack wasn't mad, was he?”

“No, he's fine, really. He said his team is going to lose anyway...probably a lie to make you feel better about being bad dads.” She smirked and followed him around the room, burning a path through the worn old office carpet and watching the clock tick slowly further and further away from when they thought he'd be done. Jess stared mournfully at the slushy that was now less slush and more juice. Bad juice. Flavored purple sugar water. She wrinkled her nose and frowned.

“Shit,” she whispered, swirling the red spoon straw in the liquid. “What's taking them so long?”

A new nurse appeared shortly after with Aaron still in a gown, his face pale and drawn. “Well we had a few hiccups but we got through it. Had to up his dose a little after we got him in there so he's really gonna be out of it for a while. They'll call with the results in a few days, in the meantime...you know the drill.”

You know the drill, Aaron hated that the most. Even in his hazy, half-awake daze he knew what that meant...it had been the same for years, and would be maybe for the rest of his life. Semi-annual scans, labwork and pills...the chance at a somewhat healthy life taken from him. He tried not to give it too much thought or time, he focused on it only as much as he needed. Pulling his pills from the little plastic rainbow box on his kitchen counter while he waited for the coffee to brew (and forcing them down with that first blissful burning gulp), making sure expiration dates and refill dates were double and triple checked, doctor's appointments in pencil on the calendar months ahead of time. None of it seemed to dominate his days anymore, just background noise, until something upset the balance. In this case, the doctor thought maybe a rogue stomach bug that his body just couldn't seem to fight off completely...they'd know in a few days. Until then, business as usual. Discomfort or pain, it didn't matter what it was called at this point. Nausea, insomnia, it all fell under the same you know the drill heading.

His eyes lit on the slushy cup and his smile followed, lopsided and slow but hitting Jess like a freight train. She realized, right then, that she should have tossed it. Gotten rid of the evidence. “Oh Aaron,” she began, shaking her head. “Your procedure took more time than I thought and it melted. We'll have to stop on the way home.”

The unmistakable shine of tears appeared almost too quickly and Jess shot a desperate glance at Derek, pleading with him to fix it. Normally she'd be on it, prepared for whatever emotion might come at her, but she had to admit she'd been a little more nervous this time than she'd let on and this was how that came out. None of them had quite bounced back from the last scare, no matter how they thought they had. To her dismay, Derek looked as panicked as she felt. As the tears rolled from his lashes, blazing trails down his pale cheeks, she rushed out the door and down the hallway. If she hurried she could run to the gas station on the corner, grab the damn replacement slushy and be back by the time he was out of the gown and into his clothes. Let Derek figure out how to push and pull him into real clothes while he didn't have any real control of his limbs, her job was easy in comparison.

Except they didn't have grape. Of fucking course. She didn't curse often, but she muttered her second swear of the day under her breath as she stood and gawked at the offending machine. It was cherry and blue raspberry, and if he wasn't doped up on meds and crying, if he had been able to keep down any food over the last few days, she would probably just mix the two into a purple concoction the way Jack liked and hope he didn't notice but she would feel like a monster now. Scratch that, she would actually be a monster. So, blue it was; she was sure that was his second favorite anyway, and if he couldn't have his first choice what else was she supposed to do? Come back empty handed?

The closer she got to the doctor's office, staring down into the shocking blue abyss of the cup, she was filled with dread. It wasn't going to work, in fact it might make things worse.

He didn't cry the second time, but he didn't look happy. Sullen was the word Derek would use, if he had to pick one, even as Aaron thanked her in his raspy quiet voice. Slowly, like he was underwater, he had maneuvered into his clothes and leaned a little heavily against Derek while they walked, holding the slushy and taking an occasional sip. Of course it was good, it was fine, the ice in his throat was soothing and really the flavors were mostly sugar and barely resembled anything vaguely like real fruit so it really didn't matter. Except for some reason it did.

“I'm sorry, Aaron,” she said, climbing into the driver seat while Derek folded himself into the back. “I got you a grape one first at that little store by Jack's school, but the store closest only had cherry and blue raspberry.”

“It's alright,” he whispered, sulking. She rolled her eyes, but Derek couldn't find it in himself to be irritated. Aaron didn't ask for things often, usually just accepted what you gave him gratefully because the thought was really the important part. He truly believed that. The idea that anyone thought of him was more than enough to find him almost teary-eyed in gratitude, but he'd been so worked up over the scope that he'd used the grape slushy as a focal point to pull himself through it. Silly and childish, he knew it, but he couldn't think his way past the warm, dense fog of the sedatives or the way his throat ached for the sting of grape. The drugs made his veins feel heavy and thick, his brain like pudding.

He fell asleep with his cheek against the window on the short car ride home.

The pout was erased by a kiss, at least briefly, as Derek helped him settle himself onto the couch with his heated blanket. With any luck he would sleep off the rest of the morning's activities and what was left of the medications turning him to sludge. The kiss was laced with a goofy grin, sleepy heavy eyelids, words that weren't words at all through lips that didn't want to work. Derek was sure he heard something about blue raspberry being okay but grape being better, quickly followed by a slightly dramatized raspy cough, though he might just have been making it up. Aaron on sedatives was a trip and a half, something he might never get used to. It was all the years of immaturity he neatly pressed into tailored suits suddenly seeping through. He didn't hate it, even if it was a little irritating. In any case, all that really came out were a slurred few syllables stopped by another series of sloppy kisses as he chased the warmth of Derek's lips.

“I love you,” he whispered against Aaron's lips and he heard the other man mumble something incoherent as his muscles relaxed into the couch. He slept hard, deeper than usual, one arm thrown over his face to block out what little sunlight filtered in through the curtains. It gave Derek and opportunity to run out and produce what he knew would solve all the world's problems.

Or, at least put a band-aid on Aaron's broken heart.

When he woke, he no longer felt the deep sadness over the slushy and felt more than a little ashamed of himself for the way he'd behaved. That didn't alleviate the pang of wistful longing that came with the idea of the grape slushy, but would be enough to keep him apologizing for the rest of the day. The fog was more of a mist now, and he knew that would stick with him for most of the day, he'd move a little slow and stumble a little as he walked, but his thoughts wove themselves together and he was able to function at least by the time Jack was home not wanting to talk about how badly they'd gotten their asses beat. All he wanted to do was beg Derek to take him to the field so he could practice more after eating his way through the kitchen.

“What's this nasty looking bowl in the freezer, dad?” Jack asked, handing the bowl to Derek with a frown. Derek elbowed him in the ribs and told him to shut up.

“I know it isn't exactly what you wanted...” Derek said approaching where Aaron sat on the couch, tipping his chin upward for another kiss and a soft smile. “But I got you something that I knew wouldn't melt while you slept.” He handed Aaron the small bowl and a spoon, the contents of which were blissfully icy chunks of frozen purple grape juice. The cloying sweet smell was intoxicating. Aaron stood to lean into the kiss, pressing their foreheads together. He set the bowl on the table so he could wrap both arms around Derek's waist and kept him there, flat against him.

“It's perfect. Thank you.”

[sparkleofpizza]

How to say I love you - Dick Grayson x reader

Requested: no

Warnings: fluff 

Summary: Jason needed to know if what he was feeling was love, so he went to his older brother hoping he could get some help, after all Dick was engaged to the love of his life.

Prompts: 50 wordless ways to say "I love you"  7. Lightly kissing on top of a freshly formed bruise. 23. Taking a picture together to print and hang later. 36. Helping brush their hair after a shower. 49. Giving them a tight hug that makes them lose their breath.

Word count: 1.8k

Jason had thought a lot before it actually came down to it. He considered all of his options, but there wasn’t many. He could ask Roy, but he didn’t know much either, Kori provided to be little help. Bruce would just be weird, Tim didn’t know anything either. Did he even need to justify why he wasn’t going to ask Damian? Duke was a nice guy, but he wasn’t sure he would be of much help either. Stephanie and Barbara would make it a big deal, and Cass wouldn’t know how to help. 

So there he was right now. Standing in the middle of the kitchen, watching Dick make himself a bowl o cereal. He seemed very concentrated, trying to balance the perfect amount of milk to go with his favorite cereal. 

Jason took a deep breath, it was now or never. It was just the two of them. Damian was probably at the cave, Bruce had already left to work and Tim most probably went with him. Cass was getting ready to go to school, Duke had to leave for college in a while. So it was just him and Dick. 

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Jason questioned, almost wishing his brother would say no 

“Good morning, Jaybird.” Dick answered happily “Of course! What can I help you with?”

“How did you… How did you find out that…” he stopped, realizing how stupid he would sound if he asked that question out loud “You know what? Never mind.”

Dick frowned “What is it? You know you can talk to me about anything.”

Jason considered his options, if he asked the question and Dick started laughing or judged him, he could bolt out of room. His bike was parked in the driveway since he had spend the night over. The keys were in his pocket, and he was sure Dick wouldn’t be able to react fast enough to follow him in time. Before his brother even knew he would be in one of his safe houses that his family did not know about. 

“How did you realize that you were in love with y/n? How did you know she was the one?”

Dick’s face blossomed into a smile. But it wasn’t a mockery one, it was a pure happiness smile, the one that only you could put on his face. 

“Oh, Jaybird, it actually took me a while to realize that.” He said, taking a sit a stool, motioning for him to join “I had many girlfriends in my life before, but everything was different with y/n, you know?”

Jason was hoping for more, waiting for more. He didn’t watch with envy for so many years his brother being deeply in love with his fiancé and being as happy as Jason has ever seen, for Dick to not sare it all with him. He wanted, no needed to know if what he was possibly feeling for a certain person was what he was so afraid it was.

“There was this one time” he smiled “that y/n was trying to reach the top shelf in my kitchen…”

Cookies. You wanted cookies, craving them like crazy after having tried to spend a week without eating sugar, but you couldn’t, you needed sugar in your life. You knew Dick kept your favorite cookies at the middle cabinet, what you didn’t expect was for it to be as high as it was. Did he really have to put that in the top shelf? 

You stood on your tiptoes, stretching your arms, but it didn’t work, you still couldn’t reach it. You looked around, spotting a stool near the laundry. You grabbed it, positioning it in front of the place you needed it, and stepped on top of it. Again, you stood in your tiptoes, successfully grabbing the cookies. What you didn’t expect was to lose balance and fall.

You screamed, hitting the ground with a yelp. Ouch, that hurt. 

“Y/n?” Dick yelled, coming running towards the kitchen and finding you on the ground “Oh my God, what happened?”

He kneeled down before you, cradling your face, looking it over for injuries.

You grinned at him “I fell down when I was grabbing some cookies.” You showed him the smashed package in your hand 

He shook his head, helping you sit up, but he couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face. This was such a you thing to do.

"Why didn't you ask me to get those for you?"

You pouted at him. 

"I was actually hoping I'd eat them before you realize that I gave up on my month without sugar thing."

Dick pretended to be hurt "You didn't plan on sharing? How dare you?"

You giggled. He knew just the right thing to say. You were probably going to feel guilty for having given up, but there he was cracking a joke just to make you smile. 

You two got up from the floor, but you moaned in pain when he grabbed your arm to help you stead yourself. He frowned, looking at your forearm where a big bruise was starting to form.

"Does it hurt?" he asked

"Yeah, but only when I touch it."

He nodded, bringing your arm to his lips and laying a kiss there, very softly so it wouldn't hurt you.

"Now, I've kissed it better."

You smiled, your boyfriend is such a dork. A cute one.

"Oh, there was this one time too that we were out and I took a picture of her on my phone. I didn't think much of it, until later when I was out on a mission and I grabbed my phone and saw it there." Dick smiled, pulling out his phone to show his brother which picture he was talking about "She looked to beautiful and before I knew it I had already printed it and now I carry it with me, inside my wallet, so I always have her close to me, even when we're far away."

Jason thought he would be sick listening to this stuff. Normally, he would make fun of his brother for being a softie romantic dork. But right now, he was wanting more stories.

"There was also this one time..." Dick continued 

You got out of the shower hoping you would feel refreshed, but you had such a hard day at work today. You had to go in earlier and ended up staying until late, you reassured yourself it was worth it, you were working your way towards a promotion and you could really use the extra cash that will come with it. But damn, you were so tired. 

After having your muscles relaxed in the warm water, you wanted nothing more than to just colapse in bed and fall asleep. 

"Why are you up so late, angel?" 

You looked trough the mirror, watching Dick in his Nightwing suit standing behind you. You were so tired you didn't even hear him slip trough your window. 

He would do this sometimes, after you found out about his secret ident. Show up in the middle of night, sometimes to make sure you were ok, other times just to see you for a while. 

"Late shift at work, and also early shift. I am so tired." you mumbled, closing your eyes and allowing your back to rest against his strong chest "I think I'm going to go to bed now. Will you tuck me in?"

He kissed your temple. 

"But your hair is wet, sweetheart. You're going to get sick."

"I have no energy to blow dry it."

Dick smiled, guiding you to bed while he grabbed a few stuff in the bathroom. He sat behind you in bed, gently brushing your hair, untangling nots. Then he blew dried it, making sure all of the spots were dry so you wouldn't get sick - winter was approaching, he didn't want you to catch a cold. 

"There you go." he smiled at you, tucking you into bed "Goodnight, sweetheart."

You smiled with your eyes closed, feeling him peck your lips before going out the window again. 

Jason was so engrossed in Dick's tellings, that he felt to notice Tim slipping in the sit beside him, sipping at his coffee mug. Damian stood at the doorstep, holding Titus' leash, completely forgetting it was going to ask one of them to walk his dog. Duke stopped midway while putting his laptop inside his backpack, and Cass stood near the trash can, throwing away a rotten banana that she though was still eatable. 

"Oh, when I go away on missions that last more than three days..."

You heard the front door open and close. You jumped from the couch.

"Dick!" you exclaimed, running towards him "You're back!"

You threw yourself at him and he caught you with ease. His arms circling around your waist while you placed your around his shoulders. You hug him so tight, knocking some of the wind inside his lungs. You had missed him so much, and you were so worried about him.

He pulled back, staring into your eyes.

"I love you." He said without second thoughts 

"I know." you smiled "I love you too."

Jason absorbed every single word that had just came out of his brother's mouth. He was surprised he didn't give up halfway trough. And his heart... it was beating weirdly inside his chest, there was something cold inside his belly.

"So after doing all of this... idiotic things you realized you loved y/n?" He asked slowly 

"Yeah." Dick nodded his head "It was actually Roy who made me realize that."

Jason frowned "Roy?"

"That day that I meet you two for that mission you asked for my help. Roy asked me about y/n, and I spent nearly two hours talking about all of this stuff, telling him all of this. In the end he told me he was glad I had finally found the one. And that's when it hit me. I ended most of my relationships when it got close to them finding out about who I am, but I let her stay. And all of those little things I did for her and she did for me? That was our way of wordlessly saying I love you to each other."

He stared at his siblings who had lost looks on their faces. Cass frowned a bit to herself, thinking. Tim fished the phone out of his pocket, typing furiously at it as if his life depended on it. Duke ran out of his room, saying he had to get to the library before it was too late. Damian quickly left the room, muttering something to himself. And Jason slowly got up from his sit.

"Need to go somewhere?" Dick asked teasingly

He nodded his head. Heading towards the exit.

"There is someone I really need to talk to." And with that he left 

Dick smiled to himself. He did it, he really did. He inspired all of his siblings to go out there and get their loved ones. He showed them it was worth it.

He grabbed his phone that was laying near his bowl of cereal, going to the speed dial and placing it on his ear.

"Hey, sweetheart." he grinned "You're never gonna guess what just happened."

[blu-joons]

He Confesses To You ~ Min Yoongi

Prompts: 50, 60

Crossing off the final date of your calendar to Yoongi coming home felt like a huge sigh of relief, the pages were full of red crosses where you’d marked down how long you’d have to wait for your best friend to finally come home.

As you sat across from him at your favourite coffee shop later that day, it felt like he’d never been away. His smile was still wide, telling you all of the fun memories that he’d made, catching up just like old friends do.

From the moment you met Yoongi you knew you’d found a friend for life in him, one thing he never did, despite how crazy his life got, was leave you behind.

“I drunk a lot of coffee whilst we were on tour, but nothing still compares to this,” he chuckled, taking a huge sip from his latte, “and nothing beats a coffee with you.”

“You’re cute,” you smiled, pointing to his top lip where a line of froth appeared, smirking as he used the sleeve of his jumper to wipe it off. “There must have been a good coffee shop somewhere?”

His head shook, “they were good, but nothing compares to home.”

He allowed himself to relax back in the armchair he sat in, the familiar four walls of one store brought him so much comfort it was impossible for him to describe.

The peace and quiet home brought always made him happy, he never had to hide or fear fans finding him here, this was one of the few spots where he could allow himself to be himself.

“We went to one coffee shop, and a fan was stood in the door down on one knee waiting for me to come out,” he informed you, cringing at the memory, “I think she was going to propose.”

“I bet loads of fans would love for you to propose to them,” you smirked, “I’d never imagined a fan would propose to you though. I guess that’s what you get being a member of a global group, all the attention from thousands of people.”

“It’s nice, but sometimes I wish it didn’t have to happen,” he spoke, his smile drooping. At times he often found himself so jealous of you, being able to walk around town freely without ever being stopped or cornered by anyone.

You were quick to change the subject back to tour, asking him how the boys were and how much fun they had on their travels. Yoongi’s smile quickly reappeared as he began to tell you about some of the funniest times, they all shared together.

“They were always mocking me whenever I told them that I was talking to you, they really are like kids sometimes,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he remembered their behaviour.

You’d been on the receiving end of the boys too at times, desperately trying to find out when the two of you were getting together. Whilst the two of you were adamant you were just friends; the boys knew the spark they saw in front of them.

You smiled weakly as Yoongi quickly fell silent, placing his coffee mug down on the table, pressing his palms together. His shoulders dropped, concerning you slightly as you searched for his eyes to meet your own.

“It’s weird, don’t you think?” He spoke aloud.

“I mean we’ve both always known the boys are weird, so it’s not too surprising.”

“No, I don’t mean that. It’s just I spend all this time away, and with you, it never feels like I’ve been away.”

His voice was barely a whisper as he trailed off his sentence, trying to push the thought to the back of his mind. You understood exactly what he was talking about, but you couldn’t help but feel there was a little more than that playing on his mind.

“That’s something I’ve thought a lot about whilst we’ve been on tour,” he then added.

Your confusion grew, “you really need to stop talking in riddles? Tell me what you’ve been thinking about Yoongi.”

He brushed it aside, but you quickly protested, reminding him that if he was able to talk to anyone, then his best friend would always be that person. Whatever it was, you were going to help him and give him the best advice that you possibly could.

“It can’t be that bad,” you assured him, “you think about a lot on tour so I’m sure there’s plenty you want to get off your chest.”

“But this is one specific thing,” he noted, peering at you through the gaps in his hair that sat flat, “it’s a feeling to be honest. Being away from you for all this time has made me revaluate how important you are to my life, and question if maybe there is a different feeling to explore…love.”

Your eyes widened as he spoke, feeling your heart rate quicken as he looked away again to try and hide his blush. “This is the softest you’ve ever been,” you giggled, trying to ease the tension of the situation, “do you really think there could be something between us both?”

His head nodded slowly, “I wondered before tour if there was something there, but being away from you for all this time, it made me realise that there is something there, for me.”

“And for me too,” you quickly assured him, reaching across the table to take a hold of his hand, “it’s been so hard not having you around for so long, no one ever manages to fill the hole you leave behind.”

He stood up at the table, pulling you up with him, closing the distance between you both, placing his spare hand against your waist. The two of you had shared moments like this plenty of times before, but this time it all felt so different.

“I used to tell the boys they were being ridiculous for telling me that you could fancy me, but the more I thought about it the more I thought about how much I wanted that to happen, because I wanted to be with you,” he confessed.

“I used to tell them the exact same thing, you had thousands of girls who loved you, I just thought I’d always just be your best friend, or just the girl you needed when you were home,” you admitted, looking away from his eyes, “I just thought I’d wait until you found the one.”

“But you were always the one I wanted, there was never going to be anyone else.”

His hand came under your chin, bringing your eyes back up to meet his. “I know that now,” you chuckled, “but at the time I thought I was just filling the gap, waiting for you to find the one you wanted to fill that missing piece of your life.”

His head shook in disbelief, the two of you had spent months thinking you were just a gap fill in each other’s lives, without realising the gaps had already been filled. He stepped forwards, resting his forehead against your own.

“Yoongi, can you kiss me now?”

“Of course, it would be an absolute pleasure.”

---

Masterlist

[skellebonez]

You like soulmate aus? 44 with a soulmate au where there are countdown timers for important events and if you concentrate you can see the lifespan of your romantic and platonic soulmates except immortals. MK realizes he can see Red Son's life countdown and he only has 1 year left

ANON I WANT YOU TO KNOW THIS WAS THE SADDEST PROMPT I HAVE EVER BEEN GIVEN AND I HAD TO TAKE IT OUT OF THE WAIT LIST TO FILL IT ASAP. Just. Damn. You came for my heart and crushed it. @kitkat1003 you helped make this sadder so I wanna make sure you see this.

WARNING: I mean, look at the prompt. It's gonna be a depressing read regardless. Read the tags for a major spoiler if you want to know about the end in advance.

The Lunar New Year special is mentioned in passing but NO SPOILERS.

Why are you still awake?

MK never made it a point to concentrate and look at his soulmate timers unless he really felt he had to, tempting as it may have been. Especially not their life countdown timers. The colors one saw differed from from viewer to viewer, some people even saw only one color in varying shades, and no one knew why the colors were chosen the way they were for each individual. But to MK the timers were a whole swath of colors.

It was easy with Mei, her platonic bond with his allowing him to see the bright green (green for all platonic bonds, not just Mei) countdowns to major events (some bad but usually good, like a major race being announced or taking part in a game tournament spontaneously). The familial blue bond he had with Pigsy and Tang went much the same, as well as Sandy's own platonic bond. He didn't learn that immortal beings had their own color, brilliant gold tinted in whatever the proper bond was until he met Sun Wukong, his gold-green timer slowly changing into a gold-blue bond of family found.

It wasn't until Red Son that MK realized his romantic bonds were a brilliant red (which, in retrospect, could have been seen as funny), shining brilliant and bright and almost blinding him when he caught sight of him properly from far above him (and it nearly made him fall before Wukong forced him to, the traitor). He'd mistaken it for some kind of antagonistic bond before he learned that that was also a type of platonic soulmate. So that was something he shoved deep deep deeeeeep down inside to think about later, especially since a lot of people now a days rarely went after their first romantic soulmate and instead waited for a platonic to change in time.

He never told anyone.

It also wasn't until he tested concentrating on timers with Wukong, for fun and out of sheer curiosity if he really was super immortal, that he realized that immortal's life countdown timer just looked like a mass of rapidly changing numbers screaming in confusion and he decided to never do that again.

Until... the Lunar New Year celebration.

He was curious, scared, and Red Son was there and he let his curiosity get the better of him. He wanted to see if Red was still immortal and if his timer did the same thing.

361 days, 17 hours, 8 minutes, and 42 seconds.

That couldn't have been right.

He tried again.

361 days, 17 hours, 7 minutes, and 30 seconds.

And again.

361 days, 16 hours, 56 minutes, and 45 seconds.

And one last time, after everything was over.

361 days, 12 hours, 1 minute, 29 seconds.

Red Son... had less than a year left to live. Red Son, The Boy Sage Prince, the one who almost defeated Sun Wukong on his journey and eternal thorn in his side... was going to die.

MK hadn't ever really imagined that he could die. He had believed that Red Son was immortal, and maybe he still was. There were ways to kill immortals who weren't all powerful Monkey Kings. But he'd always imagined that, maybe, eventually, they could possibly at least work things out and get to know each other eventually after what happened with WBS.

Now he was plagued with the thought 'what if I'm the one who kills him' and he couldn't handle that so he made up his mind then and there and before Red Son could leave he grabbed him by his jacket collar in front of everyone and changed that thought to 'fuck it' and kissed him and pulled away and looked DBK in the eye and announced "I've known Red is my romantic soulmate since day 1 and I am not wasting anymore time with stupid feuds".

Apparently that was just enough to startle the other man into not attacking and to send Sun Wukong into a frenzy of cackling "I KNEW IT"s.

Red Son turned as red as his jacket on his cheeks and just looked at MK in awe. They had-

361 days, 10 hours, 2 minutes, 16 seconds.

Red hadn't left his parents, not immediately, but the sudden relationship that have been revealed between the successor to the Monkey King and the son of the Demon Bull King had forced everything to a standstill. DBK wanted revenge, PIF wanted her husband to be happy, Sun Wukong wanted to be retired, and all three of them were too stubborn to not insist the two men court each other anyway because tradition dictated that when a romantic soulmate pair revealed their bond no one could force them apart.

352 days, 14 hours, 34 minutes, 18 seconds.

MK felt back constantly checking Red Son's timer, but he didn't want to waste a single second. They had less than a year. He'd seen just how smart and resourceful and, as much as he didn't want to admit it at first, protective and caring for the people he had grown close to he was.

By the end of the month they had moved into Red Son's apartment (he had an apartment?).

322 days, 2 hours, 28 minutes, 50 seconds.

MK learned that Red Son was a fantastic chef, on par with Pigsy even. His food was spicy but over time he learned that MK would suffer through food that was hurting him just to try his food and make it less so. Just for him.

315 days, 2 hours, 45 minutes, 34 seconds.

They kissed for the second time well after they had moved in together. Despite rushing into this they had both been too nervous and flustered to do more than hold hands and sleep side by side in different blankets.

They started sharing a blanket by month 2.

292 days, 8 hours, 1 minute, 12 seconds.

DBK was still pissed at Wukong. No one thought his grudge would ever fully disappear. But he and PIF had stopped attacking. For now. For their son. The best thing they had ever done for him was let him be with his soulmate without fighting.

MK never felt more guilty than when he realized he was never going to tell them. He tried once, after they moved in. After he had truly fallen in love with Red Son. He'd cried too hard to get the words out and PIF had looked torn between telling him to leave and comforting him before she put a shockingly gentle hand on his shoulder.

He could never tell them.

267 days, 18 hours, 59 minutes, 2 seconds.

Red got along amazingly well with Mei and Sandy. The three of them together were a mechanical nightmare for anyone on their bad side and the most amazing team for anyone they made anything for. Red was also the new favorite among Sandy's cats. No one was surprised.

He and Red ended up adopting a little one eyed kitten they found outside Pigsy's Noodles. They named her Bao-Bao. They loved her.

245 days, 7 hours, 29 minutes, 34 seconds.

Naturally nothing was going to be calm for the Monkie Kid. Eventually demons far and wide came to attack either him or the city. The only difference was that, now, he had Red Son by his side.

Every time Red took a hit MK felt no fear. He knew that would not be the hit that killed his soulmate. His soulmate had-

208 days, 19 hours, 78 minutes, 21 seconds.

Red and Tang were fast friends. Red and Mei and Sandy were faster. It had taken longer for Pigsy but he came around fast enough.

Sun Wukong, though. Even after 5 months he was still slightly tense and terse and short with Red. But he had been coming around, slowly. Just like with everyone else, Wukong was hard pressed to open up to anyone who wasn't MK.

They visited Flower Fruit Mountain from time to time, and it was one day when Red had wandered off to enjoy the scenery at MK and Wukong had heard the pained screech of a small monkey in the distance.

When they saw Red calming the little one down, tending to it's wound as best he could, MK saw Wukong properly smile at him for the first time. Soon they had-

157 days, 22 hours, 28 minutes, 59 seconds.

There were still fights. DBK and Sun Wukong didn't get along. But things were better.

There were family game nights. Red and Pigsy and Wukong cooked together. Bao-Bao had grown into a beautiful Tortoise Shell cat (with tortitude included). Everyone promised to try to get along and things were going well. Red Son and MK were truly in love, it seemed. At least MK was. He was certain Red was as well.

That's why MK asked him to marry him that night.

Red said yes.

140 days, 19 hours, 34 minutes, 34 seconds.

Was 7 months too fast? Yes. Did MK care? No. Did anyone object?

Only the demons that showed up to fight. They were taken care of quickly. DBK was not entirely happy about how fast things were but for his only son it seemed he would not allow anything to ruin the day.

He'd changed over the 7 months. Not entirely, not enough for MK to completely forgive him for everything since he had awoken. But seeing him punch a demon into the stratosphere for Red Son was a pretty good marker of how much he was trying.

6 days, 37 hours, 8 minutes, 12 seconds.

Everything was amazing for those few months together. They fought demons. They kissed. They spent time with their family. No longer two families but one family.

Then Macaque came back.

MK had thought he was gone for good, he had been so quiet. But apparently he was planning something the whole time.

Something to kill an immortal.

That was when MK learned he was immortal. And wasn't that ironic?

Macaque had meant to stab him. MK didn't move in time.

Red Son jumped in front of him and there was red.

Macaque wasn't seen again after what MK did to him.

They bandaged the small wound in Red Son's shoulder. They would find a way to fix this. They had to. MK knew what would kill Red Son now, it wasn't that he wasn't immortal it was whatever poison had been meant for him. He knew people had beaten death clocks before.

He had to try.

5 days, 12 hours, 29 minutes, 56 seconds.

5 days, 12 hours, 29 minutes, 55 seconds.

5 days, 12 hours,. 29 minutes, 54 seconds.

That was what MK saw when Red Son coughed up blood for the first time.

4 days, 1 hour, 12 minutes, 13 seconds.

Sun Wukong found out where Macaque had gotten the poison.

There was no cure.

Red coughed more red and MK screamed at the Monkey King to look again. Do something. Anything. Anything...

They didn't see him or DBK for over 2 days.

1 day, 17 hours, 34 minutes, 14 seconds.

1 day, 17 hours, 34 minutes, 13 seconds.

MK watched the countdown timer tick down.

"Why are you still awake?" Red Son had asked him as he held his head in his lap.

"I don't want to miss any more seconds with you," MK answered softly.

"Am I going to... die?" Red Son asked softly.

"Not if Monkey King does what I know he can do," MK answered again. "I know he'll be back soon. I know it. I-"

"MK! MK I'M BACK!" Sun Wukong yelled through the apartment, bursting into their room looking disheveled and like he hadn't stopped moving since he left. But smiling. DBK looked much the same as he came through the door behind him.

"I think we found something!"

1 day, 17 hours, 32 minutes, 2 seconds.

MK prayed that Sun Wukong was right. He was Sun Wukong. He had to be.

1 day, 17 hours, 32 minutes... 3 seconds.

[pansyslut]

Hello! I have a request for draco x reader oneshot. Can you please make a really angsty one based on your prompt list number 26 and 50? A happy ending would be amazing! Thank you very much!

when i needed you most

draco x reader

a/n : yayyy another request !! here you gooo i hope you like it i really enjoyed writing this one. the prompts went together really well

prompt list

prompt #26 - “you are my everything”

prompt #50 - “everyone else was there, but it was you who i needed the most. and you weren’t here.”

summary : y/n struggles after having a miscarriage. instead of draco being by her side for comfort, no one knows where he is. angst & fluffy ending.

it had been less than twenty four hours since you had returned home. they kept you in the hospital for a couple days after your miscarriage. you spent most of the time crying silent tears, having worried friends in and out of your room, nurses constantly checking on you.

you were glad to be home. when you were at the hospital many of you and dracos friends had come to visit and check up on you. it had grown suffocating. you knew it was only coming from a place of love but you couldn’t help but feel like you needed to be alone.

when you found out you were being released that night you had muttered “thank merlin” and draco had nodded his head. you both needed the hell out of there. away from the people and the environment. you both craved the comfort of your own home.

when you got home, draco had made you soup while you were put on bed rest. you weren’t complaining though because everytime you moved it felt like a elephant was sitting on your uterus.

you and draco hadn’t spoken much, both of you processing and coping your own ways. part of you craved the feeling of your husbands arms but he stayed stiffly on his side of the bed. deciding not to disturb him, you eventually fell asleep as well.

waking up was the worst part so far. the pain was unbearable as the medicine they have given you now completely worn off. you lay there, stiff as you reach your arm across the bed to only feel cold sheets.

“draco?” you call out loud enough for him to hear you throughout the house.

after a few seconds you realize you are alone. you find yourself in the room alone with your mind running wild. how would you be able to do anything let alone sit up? you decide to call your friend, luna.

as soon as you had gotten on the phone with her she was happy to help. saying she would bring healing remedies and help you with whatever you needed.

eventually, you will yourself up to go to the bathroom. looking in the mirror realizing what a mess you look. hearing a soft knock, luna let’s herself into your room.

“y/n, thank merlin. i knocked on your door and no one answered- i hope it’s alright i let myself in. i brought you things that might help.” she says holding up a basket. “i’ve read up on this quite a lot, i’m glad you called me. meet me downstairs when you’re ready and if you need help give me a shout.” she says and heads her way downstairs.

luna stays for a couple hours, tending to your every need. she made you biscuits and tea and gave you some medicine that helped tremendously. it still hurt but now you were able to move on your own.

harry and hermione had also made a brief appearance. they kept you company and made you food which was short lived due to their busy schedules.

it was now half past six and draco still isn’t here. you had called him three times and texted him but haven’t gotten a single reply. you think he would care. you think he would care that his wife just lost his child. but instead he’s ignoring me and out doing god knows what.

making your way upstairs, you get into one of dracos shirts and lay in bed. your mind runs wild to the places he could be. to the excuse he would come up with when he gets home.

without realizing, you had begun crying, tears streaming down your face. you only noticed when they hit the pillow in front of you. glancing at the mirror on the wall beside you, you stare at your red puffy eyes and swollen cheeks.

you know the doctor has said time and time again that it wasnt your fault but you couldn’t help but feel otherwise. he said it was very much possible i wouldn’t be able to carry a baby ever again. the one thing women are out on earth to do, my body is incapable of doing.

as you lay clutching dracos pillow, you hear the front door unlock. you hear the footsteps making way through the house. but continue to lay there with your face shoved in the pillow.

i cant let him see me like this. if he’s so unaffected by this then i need to be too.

you hear a soft knock on the door as draco announces himself. “baby?” he steps closer to the bed and sits next to you. “i’m sorry i’ve been gone all day.”

here it is. the excuse you’ve been pondering about all day. you know it’s not work because he already had the week off. what could possibly be more important than this?

he sets a hand on your shoulder but you shove it off. lifting your face from the pillow, he’s finally able to get a decent look at you for the first time. he’s sees the dry tear stains on your face and sits there wide eyed.

“you don’t get to apologize. luna was here earlier and brought me medicine, hermione was here earlier and made me lunch- even bloody harry was here. everyone else was there, but it was you who i needed the most. and you weren’t here.”

he sat there once again not saying a word. “do you really have nothing to say? you left me. your wife. the woman who would have been the mother of your child. do you even care? i sat here crying for hours without the most important person by my side. you are the only person i needed and where were you?” you said getting closer to his face. “huh, what’s your excuse?” you nudged him roughly as your anger rises.

draco stars silently as tears build up in his eyes. you stare back at him in shock. not once had you ever seen draco cry- or even close to it.

“i’m sorry, y/n. i’m so bloody sorry. i-” he stops to collect himself and lifts up from the bed starting to pace, “i thought you would want to be alone. i thought- i thought that’s what you wanted.” he said once more. “i thought that’s what you wanted.”

he’s now facing away from you, staring outside the window as rain drops slowly fall. you crawl to the other side of the bed so you are sitting behind him.

he continues softly, “i went to the store. i got you more ingredients for soup- i noticed yesterday how hard it was for you to eat. i figured that would help. and- and i got you flowers. and i visited some small shop in town with hundreds or medicines. they gave me everything we would need.”

you grad his hand and he turns to face you. grabbing your face, he whispers “you are my everything. please, i am begging you to forgive me.” he says and gets on his knees in front of you and lays his head in your hands. “i’m so unbelievably sorry.”

what an asshole, you thought to yourself. i sat here thinking he was being anything but pure. of course he was being his sweet self. how stupid.

you lay your head on top of his, peppering delicate kisses at the crown of his head. “you have nothing to apologize for, dray. i should have known. i should have trusted you. it’s just that- that you weren’t answering your phone and i- i’m sorry too.”

he lifts up from your hands and sits next to you. you sit there, holding each other, hearing nothing but his soft sniffles and the rain hitting the window.

suddenly he collects you in his arms and starts making his way out the room. laughing you struggle to get words out, “draco what the hell are you doing?”

he gets downstairs and sets you on the kitchen counter. you see your favorite flowers in the vase surrounded by your favorite snacks.

he scurries around, trying to prepare the both of you dinner as you watch him closely. he sets a glass of wine next to you and drops and kiss on your forehead as he continues to busy himself with the ingredients.

although neither of you weren’t even close to healed, you knew that that you would be okay. as long as you had each other everything was going to be just fine.

[morganaseren]

Warden Niamh/Warden Bethany AU

So because there seemed to be interest in the idea, I decided to expand on the second prompt on this list of AUs I made for Bethany and my Niamh Cousland.

Since Bethany is a Circle Mage in Niamh’s canon verse, I really wanted to experiment with Bethany in one of her other potential routes We don’t talk about the ones where she died not long after escaping Lothering or down in the Deep Roads. Like, what are you talking about? Lalala~ and see if I could work together a happier ending than what the games canonically gave her.

Like most of the AUs I’ve already written about though, this is just a snippet into the verse, so it’s not as polished as I’d like it to be, and the pacing isn’t on par with my main fic. However, there are still 50+ pages for your reading pleasure! Depending on reader interest, I’ll be more than happy to write more about this or other AUs once OtSttCA is completed.

Disclaimer: Any section written in present tense beneath the Read More contains notes or scenes that I’ve yet to expand upon properly.

CliffNotes version of what goes on:

This whole thing takes place sometime after Bethany becomes a Grey Warden and continues on through the years-long breaks between the Acts of DA2. The epilogue will be set sometime after the Trespasser DLC is completed.

Niamh is the Grey Warden who Morrigan chooses to do the Dark Ritual with, and through the obvious use of magic, Kieran is conceived. Because of this, Niamh’s sister Saoirse escapes her otherwise canonical death and gets to be happily married to Leliana.

Because of their mutual respect for one another, and the fact that Niamh went through the trouble of finding Morrigan through the events of the Witch Hunt DLC (she was worried about her friend and their son), she and Morrigan remain in close contact and co-parent Kieran together. Their relationship is often mistaken as a romantic one though.

Bethany eventually falls in love with Niamh over the years, but because she believes the other woman is in a relationship with Morrigan, she keeps her feelings to herself. As such, this is obviously going to be a slow burn romance much like OtSttCA.

Bethany only confesses (albeit by accident) when Niamh nearly dies during a darkspawn ambush when the two woman accidentally find themselves trapped down in the Deep Roads.

There’s a romantic kiss out in the rain along with a semi-NSFW scene later on, which explains why the Read More is in place beyond the fact that this is already super long despite the fact that it’s unfinished...

They both go off in search of the cure to The Calling not long after the Kirkwall Rebellion, and they both eventually get married sometime after the Trespasser DLC with Divine Victoria (spoilers: it’s Leliana) officiating their wedding.

Interested so far? Click below to read more!

“You’re originally from Ferelden, no?” Stroud asked, drawing Bethany’s attention from where she’d been listlessly staring at the cobblestones as they walked away from Amaranthine’s sea port.

The city itself seemed to be thriving with fishmongers and traders of all kinds rattling off their wares to passersby. Save for the workers carrying about lumber and other building materials, one might not have even believed that Amaranthine had suffered its fair share of woes during the onset of the Fifth Blight or the consequent, mysterious darkspawn attack upon its walls nearly a year later. Still, the denizens of the arling were ever a hearty people. For whatever hardship befell them, they continued to persevere. 

She supposed she couldn’t bring herself to be too surprised by that.

The Storm Coast had spawned some of Thedas’ most fearsome raiders once upon a time, and they had proven the bane of Orlais in the rebellion that had spanned over half an Age. For the empire’s trespass upon their freedom, they had fought back with a ruthlessness that matched the raging waves of the sea that was as much a home to them as the land. In the face of such an unsympathetic enemy, they depended on one another to see themselves and each other through to another day. Such faith eventually earned them the liberation they had long sought against Orlais.

Bethany could still see evidence of such camaraderie in the way the people greeted one another so whole-heartedly, stopping to make conversation or help with the transportation of wares. It was such interaction that she’d miss in all the time she’d been away.

Kirkwall had lacked such sincere enthusiasm.

Still, in the two years since she’d left it, she was finally back home, but Bethany knew it was yet another decision she hadn’t had a say in. She hadn’t agreed to returning to Ferelden any more than she had agreed to becoming a Grey Warden. Her jaw clenched, remembering how her sister had simply handed her over to them even when faced with the proposition that they’d likely never see one another again.

Was it really so easy for you to leave me behind, Sister? she thought bitterly, and perhaps upon sensing her melancholy, Stroud changed the subject.

“I realize it seems a rather abrupt choice in returning you here, but what I seek is far too dangerous for someone so new to our way of life to accompany me with,” he explained. “I’m meeting with the Warden-Commander of the Fereldan branch so that I might share some information in the event that things go awry. Their group is smaller than the ones seen across Thedas, but no one can deny their efficiency.” Stroud spared a small chuckle at that. “A bit like your sister and her crew, I suppose; I thought perhaps you would be more comfortable in such a setting.”

It had been a thoughtful suggestion; Bethany knew that. Still, she couldn’t help but sigh. She had always felt that the individuals whom had made up her little social circle were more Emrys’ friends than they had ever been hers. Her older sister had the type of presence to draw anyone to her with her rakish charm and absolute battle prowess.

…which was the exact opposite of her.

As an apostate, it was far easier to stay out of trouble by being unobtrusive. If she gave the Templars no reason to suspect her, she wouldn’t be taken away from her family and the quiet life she had always known. Yet, for all her trouble—and for all her desperation to abide by the rules of a society that had long hated mages like her—she had found herself alone anyway.

Bethany sighed as she looked down at the blues and silvers of the brigandine and tabard of her outfit that signified her status as a Grey Warden. Even with her staff openly displayed across her back, she supposed she no longer had to fear being turned into the authorities. Save for a few curious glances, no one so much as batted an eye at them.

She wasn’t entirely convinced this new life was better than the one she’d left. She could have dealt with the ever-present uncertainty in Kirkwall and the endless, interpersonal squabbles of their ragtag group than spending the remainder of her years surrounded by strangers and fighting darkspawn.

But the choice wasn’t hers to make.

Very little ever was.

---

“So that’s Velanna. She took over as Archivist for our branch when the Warden-Constable was promoted to her current position by our Commander,” Nathaniel said as he took Bethany and Stroud through a tour of Vigil’s Keep since the fortress’ respective Warden-Commander and Warden-Constable were currently out on business.

Their latest stop was a library filled with seemingly endless rows of bookshelves and even more that lined the walls of the chamber that consisted of three separate levels. It was impressive, and Bethany was half-convinced she could have spent an Age in this room alone and never be able to read the entirety of its collection.

At Nathaniel’s commentary, she spared a cursory glance at the woman writing intently at one of the tables furthest away from them, paying little mind to her audience. As was typical of most elves, Velanna was a slight woman. Her hair was a shade of blonde so pale that it was nearly white, but there was a surliness in her pensive expression that gave Bethany pause. It was something that suggested the other woman didn’t welcome the company of others easily, and she seemed to have been proven right by Nathaniel’s words.

“Don’t mind her if she’s a bit standoffish at first. Velanna’s usually that way with everyone until she starts warming up to them,” he assured.

“Oh?”

“Yes. She didn’t really like humans all that much to begin with—hardly a surprise considering how terrible some of them were toward her former clan. Truthfully, I think the only people she really respects are our commanding officers—the Constable mostly though.” He spared a soft chuckle at that. “Granted, the Warden-Commander could lead a damn army from one side of Thedas to the other, but only her sister has the type of negotiation skills that could somehow end up with a High Dragon allied with a sheep of all things.”

“Probably a good thing,” said Varel—the Keep’s seneschal. There was amusement in his dark eyes as he stroked his beard, which had long grown grey with age. “Actually succeeding in getting the Warden-Constable angry is a terrifying sight to behold.”

“Please don’t remind me; I still have nightmares from our first meeting…” Nathaniel muttered with a shudder.

Bethany found that curious, but before she could begin to question him, she saw how he blinked at further movement inside the library. She followed his gaze to see that a dark-haired, dwarven woman had entered through one of the side entrances, carrying two, steaming mugs. One had been set before Velanna, who whispered something quietly, but both of Bethany’s brows rose when she saw how the elf’s cheeks quickly reddened by the kiss that had been pressed to them by her latest visitor.

“Ah. And that’s Sigrun there—another one of those few, honored individuals who Velanna won’t immediately snap at,” Nathaniel remarked humorously.

The tour then continued elsewhere with the party entering the Mess Hall. While neat and tidy, it would have otherwise been unremarkable were it not for the lone dwarf snoring loudly atop one of the tables—an empty cask by his side. Bethany and Stroud shared bemused glances while Varel only cursed next to them, running a weary hand down his face.

“I told you we needed better locks for the cellar if we’re to keep Oghren away from the wine stores,” Nathaniel deadpanned.

Oghren grumbled nonsensically in his sleep before promptly rolling off the table and right onto the floor, loudly overturning more than a few chairs in the process. Despite the fall, he continued to doze away, and his snoring only seemed to grow in volume. They then watched as the poor seneschal wearily hauled the dwarf back to his quarters before he could cause another incident in front of their guests.

“…well, that was Oghren,” Nathaniel muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with a weary sigh. “Quite the interesting fellow, that one. With him, you’ve pretty much met every Warden in the Keep save for—”

He was interrupted by the sound of voices coming down the hallway.

“I told you that I’m more than capable of walking on my own!” protested a feminine voice, irritation evident within it.

“Says the woman who was nearly side-swiped off a cliff by an ogre,” came the deeper timbre of another woman’s amused reply.

Unlike Nathaniel or herself, the latest arrivals didn’t seem to bear the typical, Fereldan accent or even Stroud’s Orlesian one from what she could tell. Bethany could hear how some of the vowels lilted somewhat as they spoke.

“It didn’t really give me any choice in the matter,” was the dry response. “It was either stand before its charge or risk the family in the wagon being swept over the edge instead.”

“I was hardly questioning your bravery, Sister. The people in that caravan certainly wouldn’t, but perhaps leave the more death-defying stunts to those of us with the armor to handle it, hm? I shudder to think what our brother or Aunt Eithne (writer’s note: pronounced Eth-Nah) would say once they find out about this...”

“Perhaps that you were lazing about while I was doing all the work as per usual.”

“Hey!”

Two women appeared in the doorway of the Mess Hall then, and Bethany was startled to find that one of them rivaled her older sister in both height and size. She was a warrior through and through if the impressive greatsword over her shoulder and her overall physique was any indication. Her mane of hair was the color of pale wheat, the length of which was held in a braid that trailed down half her back, and her eyes were a deep, stormy grey. The woman she was carrying—her sister, according to their conversation—was much slighter in comparison.

Rather than sharing in the warrior’s blonde-haired looks, hers was a stark, raven-black. The loose curls trailed to roughly chin-length with a longer fringe that covered one of her eyes—the color a whisper of smoke than the darker grey her sister had. The woman’s arms were also crossed over her chest as she regarded her sister—deeply-unimpressed—before her features cleared at the sight of their visitors.

“Ah. Stroud. Glad to see you and your companion made it across the Waking Sea safely. We weren’t expecting you both for at least another day, or we’d have sent an escort to meet you at the port.”

“No need for the trouble. The winds were kind during our voyage, Warden-Constable,” he said before tilting his head in concern. “Although it appears we’ve arrived too late to help you both. Has the darkspawn presence been more troubling as of late?”

The warrior whom Bethany deduced to be the Warden-Commander merely snorted. “They’re not as plentiful as they were a year ago thankfully. With Niamh’s and Velanna’s respective magic, our branch here has slowly been sealing any access tunnels we’ve come across, but our enemy may just be as awful as vermin with how they manage to reappear in other areas.”

“The incidents have been isolated so far as we can tell, but they’re capable of disrupting travel all the same. On that note…” The Constable trailed off as she turned her gaze toward the Warden who had been showing them about the Keep. “Nathaniel, we have guests from the caravan mentioned earlier. As it’s getting rather late, Saoirse and I decided it was best not to press our luck by letting them travel so soon after the darkspawn attack. Could you and Varel direct them to the guest quarters? We’ll arrange an escort for them to Amaranthine first thing in the morning.”

He pressed a fist over his heart respectfully as he bowed his head. “Of course.”

“Wonderful. Now—”

“Now we get you back to your quarters so that we can tend to your injuries,” her sister interrupted, cheerily grinning when it led to the other woman scowling outright, as if she had been reminded of her current position.

“And I’m more than capable of walking there on my own. Put me down!”

“And risk you further injuring yourself? What type of sister would I be if I were to allow that to happen? Now then!” The Commander directed a smile Bethany’s way, and she jerked in place at the sudden attention. “You’re the latest to join our Order, aren’t you? Stroud mentioned you were a mage. I don’t suppose you know any healing magic, do you?”

“Oh.” Bethany blinked. “Um, well, yes. I have some experience with it.” She had tended to her sister’s and their friends’ injuries often enough back in Kirkwall.

“Excellent. Would you mind tending to Niamh here as best as you can while I go find Velanna? I’m pretty sure my sister fractured a few ribs in that fight earlier.” She chuckled. “And don’t worry if she gives you any trouble; she has a history of being a terrible patient,” she added, earning a pained grunt for her troubles when the woman in question elbowed her sharply in the chest.

---

And before Bethany knew it, she found herself alone with the Warden-Constable in her quarters.

She was trying not to blush at the sight of the woman reclined against the propped pillows at the headboard of the bed. Modesty didn’t seem to be an issue for the other mage. Without another word, she had undressed—with a few occasional winces here and there as the movement pulled at her injuries—and was now bare from the waist up, save for the bindings around her breasts.

Bethany couldn’t help her own wince when she saw the livid bruising that covered the right side of the woman’s torso. It almost looked like the trunk of a tree had been slammed against it if the abrasions and bits of bark embedded into the cuts were any indication.

And she kept insisting to try and walk on her own with an injury like this? she thought in absolute disbelief before delicately pressing the tips of her fingers against the bruise. Despite being as gentle as possible, it still drew a sharp hiss from the Warden-Constable, and Bethany jerked her head up to see the other woman’s clearly pained visage.

“Sorry!”

“No, it needs to be done. Keep going,” she insisted even as pale eyes closed themselves to focus on breathing in and out evenly—albeit with some difficulty.

With permission given, Bethany laid her hand out over the woman’s side, drawing her magic out with a silvery-blue light. From there, she began sounding out the extent of the Warden-Constable’s injuries by feeling where it burned hottest beneath her palm—an indication of how bad the damage was. There was always a tickling sensation that spread out to her fingertips whenever she gently coaxed broken bones back into place. It was akin to puzzle pieces slowly sliding back together before she could encourage them to heal, and she waited for the pulsing waves around them to fade into a dull echo before focusing on the next fractured bone.

As for the bruised muscles surrounding them, they were far easier to deal with. Bethany poured magic beneath the skin in gradual increments—droplets of rain spilling into a cup one by one—until she felt the burning heat simmer down to a more bearable ache. She continued the process, slowly sliding her hand along the woman’s side until the patchwork of blues and blacks which had covered its expanse faded into a yellowish tinge and the superficial cuts had closed themselves. Bethany pulled away then with a satisfied smile.

“What song was that?”

Bethany blinked, turning her gaze up to see silvery eyes staring at her curiously. “Hm?”

“You were humming something while you were healing me.”

“Oh.” She felt heat gathering along her cheeks at the revelation. “It’s an old lullaby my mother used to sing to me. When my father first taught me healing magic, I used to hold my breath while I was performing the spell, but as you can imagine, it’s not a very sound idea unless you want both an unconscious healer and patient.” Embarrassed laughter spilled out of her then as she brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear self-consciously. “After a time, I learned that humming a few songs was useful in reminding me to breathe.”

“I see.” The Warden-Constable smiled, looking a great deal more relaxed as she reclined further against the headboard. “Well, thank you.”

“Of course.”

The Warden-Commander walked in then with Velanna in tow, and the warrior seemed surprised to see her sister still in bed. “Did you actually manage to get her to stay there the entire time?” she asked incredulously.

Bethany blinked in confusion at that since her patient had otherwise been well-behaved. As it was, she could only nod tentatively, causing the other woman to grin openly.

“Hah! Well done! I didn’t expect Stroud to send me someone who could cow her into submission.”

The Warden-Constable’s eyes narrowed then. “It was not my hearing that was damaged in that fight, Saoirse. You would do well to not make such comments before me,” she deadpanned, and despite the threat, it only drew hearty laughter from her sister, who soon drew her attention back to Bethany.

“Stroud said your name was Hawke, right?”

She shifted uncomfortably, having grown too used to her surname being used to refer to Emrys, but she nodded all the same. “I’d prefer just to be called Bethany if that’s alright.”

“Ah. Understandable. Can’t tell you how many times my sister and I both answered ‘yes’ in the same room whenever someone called out for a Warden Cousland.” She smiled. “In any case, welcome to the Fereldan branch of the Grey Wardens, Bethany. We’re glad to have you with us.”

---

After that, Bethany settles into Vigil’s Keep.

She sends letters home every now and then, but they’re usually only addressed to her mother. They’re never really long—just enough to let her know that she’s alive and well. Although Bethany realizes it’s a petty thing, she doesn’t ask about Emrys or send her anything for that matter. She’s still angry and resentful that her older sister managed to escape their adventure down into the Deep Roads unscathed while she got cheated out a future, leaving her to a life of killing darkspawn until the Calling finally takes her into the abyss of death. 

Melancholy is ever her constant companion, but eventually, she gets paired with Niamh for missions, who teaches her much about their duties as Wardens over the months, which takes them all around Ferelden. They deal with darkspawn sightings and document areas where they’ve sealed off underground routes into the Deep Roads with earth-based magic, hopefully preventing them from returning so regularly to bother nearby provinces.

As partners, they slowly become closer.

---

"Do you regret it?" Bethany asked one night as they sat by the campfire, watching as Niamh effortlessly flicked a hand to control the size of it just as a strong wind passed beneath the rocky overhang they'd taken shelter under. "Being a Grey Warden, I mean?"

Niamh paused, giving the matter some thought. "There are worse things to be, I suppose." She shrugged. "For a time, I hated the idea of being a mage because it took me away from my family. However, my being a Grey Warden was likely the only thing that saved me from being slaughtered with the rest of them when Howe plotted his coup. It likely also saved me from dying at the hands of my colleagues in Kinloch Hold when one of the Senior Enchanters overthrew it with blood magic and his followers.” She looked over at Bethany then. "Truthfully, I enjoy being able to see more of the world than through the cage the Chantry kept me in. I like the experience of being a part of it even in the moments that people dislike most."

Niamh held a hand out past the edge of the overhang, casually catching droplets of rain in her palm. Bethany watched as a slow smile spread across her features at the sound of another crash of thunder, and she couldn’t help how her own heart seemed to quicken upon seeing that serene expression.

"Our lives are more finite than they ever were," Bethany said distractedly, knowing all Wardens had only a few decades at most after their Joining.

"They are," she conceded. "That’s why I intend to make the most of it." Niamh's expression then turned sheepish as she turned back toward her. "I’m sorry. That probably wasn’t the answer you were looking for, was it?"

"No," she admitted, but as mellow as the other woman was, she was hardly surprised. Niamh had a way of remaining positive despite everything else life seemed to throw at them. Bethany smiled in spite of herself. "It was an honest one though. Thank you."

---

Every day is always an interesting adventure.

If not darkspawn, they deal with brigands out on the road or aid people across the countryside. To Bethany’s surprise, their help is openly requested sometimes when they reach a new town or village. Following the Blight, the utter bravery of the Grey Wardens had earned them Ferelden’s deepest respect. Thus, despite the fact they’re two mages traveling about, their regalia draws easy admiration and conversation alike.

It’s admittedly an odd feeling to have as a mage: to be wanted.

Bethany slowly grows to enjoy it though, especially when she can help with her magic so openly without being reviled for it.

Sometimes the jobs asked of them are simple enough: deal with a band of thieves, rid the area of rabid animals encroaching too close to farmland, helping out with some odds and ends around the village, etc.

Given that Niamh is a veteran of the Fifth Blight, Bethany also ends up learning a lot of survival skills from her during their travels together. She’s endlessly amazed by how the other mage utilizes her magic in combat and with other tasks such as hunting or fishing.

Bethany’s understandably shocked when she realizes that Niamh knows how to shapeshift, often scouting the skies as a raven to search for any nearby danger or roaming the wilderness as a sleek-looking, black wolf to hunt for game. It’s an unexpected revelation, especially since the other woman admitted to having been a part of the Circle most of her life before being recruited as a Warden.

She’s never met another mage so intriguing.

While Anders had been a benevolent healer, offering his skills to those most in need, it was his restless anger—an almost blind righteousness—over the plight of mages that gave Bethany pause.

Merrill was sweet in comparison, of course, and Bethany never minded talking with her even if there were the occasional cultural gaps that led to amusing misunderstandings at times. Still, the other woman held an interest in blood magic that Bethany wasn’t entirely certain she was comfortable with. After all, she had grown up hearing about the dangers of such magic from the Chantry. Then again, Andrastian religion also denounced who she was as a person as well, which was depressing in its own right…

While Niamh’s aptitude for elemental magic alone is impressive, Bethany is certain the woman’s shapeshifting draws upon some form of ancient or arcane magic—something well outside of the Circle’s teachings. It draws her curiosity endlessly. As such, Bethany asks her about the skill one day. Niamh just smiles, idly toying with the wooden ring that sits on a cord of black leather around her neck, revealing that a former companion taught it to her.

And that’s how Bethany learns about Morrigan.

---

“What?” Bethany exclaimed when Saoirse revealed how she was able to survive the slaying of the Archdemon. “You’re telling me that she and Niamh were able to…” She trailed off, trying to fight the blush burning across her face as her mind began imagining the possibilities of how such a conception was possible.

“You know, I thought to ask Niamh the technicalities of it once, but given she’s my baby sister—and obviously lacks the essential, uh, tool for the matter—I just decided it was best not to pry,” Saoirse answered dryly. She idly waved her hand about. “I don’t care to learn about her intimate life any more than she cares to know about mine,” she added before the corner of her mouth lifted into a lazy grin. “But for all intents and purposes, Kieran is my nephew, and Morrigan’s very much family now despite her protests to the contrary.”

“And he has the soul of an Old God?” she asked quietly as she turned to look at Kieran and the two women who were his parents.

Oghren had heard of their latest visitors and was—

Bethany squinted in confusion.

He was doing some type of weird jig in front of the baby, who was currently in Morrigan’s arms. Unfortunately, the erratic, uncoordinated nature of it did nothing to amuse him or his mother. Seemingly uncomfortable by the sight, Kieran gave an unhappy whine before reaching out toward Niamh, little fingers grasping repeatedly in her direction. Morrigan transferred him easily into the other woman’s arms when it was clear she wouldn’t mind holding him, allowing her to dryly berate the dwarf while Niamh comforted their son.

“So Morrigan says, yes,” the warrior answered with a shrug. “I originally turned down her ritual because I couldn’t bear the thought of subjecting an innocent life to such a fate, but I can’t be mad at the result. I still have Leliana because of it, and I can see how much Niamh adores both Kieran and Morrigan.” Her smile softened. “She has a piece of the happiness that I always wanted for her—something Niamh felt she could never find in this world, terrible as it is for mages at times.”

Bethany couldn’t help but agree at the latter sentiment.

Looking at the three of them, they certainly did seem like a happy family. Still, Bethany couldn’t help but feel some small pang of envy. While she had discovered that Niamh could draw just about anyone into easy conversation with her, she was rather private about her personal life. It wasn’t until recently that Bethany discovered she was even in a relationship—let alone one involving another woman. She had no issue with the idea or with Morrigan for that matter. The other mage was well-matched with Niamh on the basis of intrigue alone, but…

Bethany bit her lip.

After all those long months together with Niamh, she couldn’t help but feel—

Bethany nearly swallowed her tongue when she realized sharp, golden eyes were staring at her over Niamh’s head—as if somehow reading her thoughts. Morrigan was tall for a woman of Fereldan origin, but not nearly as much as Saoirse. With her dark hair and pale skin, she was as bewitching as she was powerful—her magical aura a fount of seemingly endless, wild energy. Bethany almost felt like prey beneath the other woman’s gaze, and she averted her own nervously.

Thankfully, Morrigan made no comment about it, but Bethany did wince when she heard her suggest turning into bed early to Niamh. She and Kieran had arrived relatively late in the day after all, so they were no doubt tired from their travels. Niamh gave no objections, and they soon headed off to the woman’s personal quarters.

Bethany sighed soundlessly.

She was no stranger to infatuation. Her attraction to Leliana back in Lothering was a testament to that fact. Granted, it was also somehow deeply ironic that her commanding officer was now married to the same lay sister who had since gone on to become the Left Hand of Divine Justinia.

Sometimes she couldn’t help but think the Maker enjoyed toying with her in subtle, annoying ways. In any case, like with any other infatuation, she would just have to wait for the one she had on Niamh to run its course.

It couldn’t last forever after all.

---

Spoilers: it does.

---

During one of her occasional visits, Morrigan left Kieran temporarily in the care of Niamh to follow up on a magical lead involving some of her arcane research. As they weren’t needed outside of Vigil’s Keep for anything, Bethany also got to watch over him as well, and as she did, she brought up a question that she had long been curious over.

"You said you started the ritual with Morrigan when you were already a Warden, weren't you? I thought Wardens became barren after the Joining though?"

"Hm. That's the assumption, yes," Niamh said as she idly waved a stuffed griffon over Kieran, delighting the baby instantly as they laid on the floor together. "I’d been a Warden for a little over a year at that point. Perhaps it was still soon enough that infertility hadn’t affected me yet, or the spell did something to compensate for it."

Bethany just nodded as she looked over at the two of them. "I see bits of you in him."

"Do you?"

"Yes," she admitted easily enough. "There's his sweet nature, the way he seems far too clever for his own good at times, and how his eyes light up whenever he smiles or laughs."

Niamh chuckled, flattered over the assessment. "Morrigan and I are always arguing about it. I see more of her than me in him, but then she retorts that he’s retained my love of sweets and just about every known creature in existence." Her smile widened when tiny, grasping hands finally succeeded in pulling down the stuffed griffon in her hands, and Kieran wasted little time in snuggling the toy to his chest with a pleased hum.

"Do you regret not being able to see him whenever you wish?"

"Sometimes," Niamh answered, "but Morrigan’s mother…" She trailed off with a frown even as she ran a hand affectionately through her son’s hair. "She’s powerful, and she’s hurt her before. I can understand her caution. I’m willing to go years at a time without seeing them if it means they’re safe."

---

Morrigan eventually returns, and she takes Kieran with her to hide and do magical stuff as Empress Celene’s Arcane Advisor in Orlais as per canon.

Several months pass.

Although Niamh had professed to understanding the need for her little family’s relocation, the distance means that visits from them are now few and far in between. Bethany can see how much the other woman misses them and how she worries about their safety. She often catches Niamh distractedly playing with the ring on her necklace, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

As if anticipating that, Morrigan does send letters to Niamh every now and then, and Niamh’s entire expression lights up every time she receives them, learning how the other woman and Kieran are fairing in Orlais along with how their son continues to grow by leaps and bounds.

She cannot fault the happiness Niamh has found with Morrigan, but it also serves as a constant reminder of what life will never offer to Bethany.

Eventually, it gets to a point where Bethany grows resentful of their relationship because her own feelings for Niamh are just so strong by then. It causes her to lash out at Niamh one night in camp, angry with how calm and positive she always is despite knowing they all have a death sentence over their heads.

---

"What world do you live in that you see it through such an idyllic lens?! You can wax poetic about this life all you like! I never asked for this! I never asked for the darkspawn to steal what little I had from life only to be made the gatekeeper against the very things I despise most in this world!"

And Niamh was quiet for the longest time, having stopped mid-sentence over Bethany's sudden tirade. As the silence continued to drift over their camp, so too does a veil of sudden cold air, and Bethany realized far too late that she’d crossed a line with the other woman.

"No one does, really," Niamh admitted at last, the warmth gone from her voice. "Save for Saoirse and my brother, I lost most of my family, but the terrible thing was that it wasn’t even darkspawn that killed them or even the Blight. It was just one man’s petty greed for what he felt was owed to him. He pretended to be my family’s ally for decades, and under the cover of night, he used his men to slaughter nearly the entirety of my bloodline. My parents, my sister-in-law, my nephew… He was only eight when it happened, you see. Oren wanted to a warrior like my siblings. He was trying to defend his mother with one of those wooden swords young boys tend to play with, but against the likes of Howe’s men...”  She clenched her jaw. “They gutted him just like everyone else."

Another pause stifled the air between them even as Bethany stared at Niamh, horrified.

"Darkspawn are terrible, yes, but they’re not always as terrible as people," Niamh said, eyes narrowing as she looked into the fire. "We can be so far worse. If I'm at all patient, it's because I try to be kind in a world that offers so little of it. I want to believe it can be better than it was before. I want this to be a better place for our people, but I also want to ensure that tragedies like that never happen again. That the people caught in the middle—victims of simple circumstance—don’t have so suffer. If it means I must be a Grey Warden in addition to a mage, then I accept it. To do otherwise damns them as much as me."

With that, Niamh then gracefully rose to her feet and headed back to her own tent, leaving Bethany alone at the campfire.

The rest of their journey back to Vigil’s Keep passed without much conversation between them despite Bethany’s attempts. Niamh only said enough to give a suitable answer, but she never offered anything more beyond it. A vault door had seemed to close behind the cool grey of the eyes that had long enraptured her, offering little warmth. It was clear Bethany was no longer privy to the other woman’s innermost thoughts and feelings

Niamh wasn’t petty, however.

She still hunted when necessary so they didn’t starve, and as was long part of their agreement together, Bethany continued to cook whatever game she caught. Other than that, however, Niamh offered no friendly greetings in the morning when they woke or any words that allowed her to wander off peacefully into the Fade as she slept.

Bethany didn’t realize just how much she’d miss them.

---

When they finally return to Vigil's Keep, Saoirse is confused by how quiet and despondent her sister seems to be. Given how amiable Niamh normally is, she has a right to be concerned.

She pulls Bethany aside one night to ask what happened since they normally get along so well, but Bethany and Niamh haven't even spoken a word to one another since their return.

Bethany ruefully explains the situation, but she doesn't reveal the actual reason why she lashed out to begin with. As such, Saoirse just assumes it was just the usual stress of being a Grey Warden.

---

"Ah. It happens to the best of us, really. Here." Saoirse handed Bethany a tin box. Something Orlesian, according to the script on it. "Leliana’s currently away on business in Val Royeaux, but she sends care packages out to me whenever she can. This one's for Niamh though. It's tea," she explained with a laugh. "She loves this stuff more than anyone else I know."

Bethany still felt badly over the situation however.

“What if she doesn’t want to talk to me?”

“Oh, Niamh’s too well-mannered to outright ignore someone,” Saoirse insisted with a brief snort. “If anything, she becomes more… Well. ‘Distantly-polite’ as my wife would describe it. Besides, I have it on good authority that she never turns down a good cup of tea.” A lazy, conspiratorial grin played on her lips then. “Especially if there’s a spoonful or two of honey in it.”

That eventually culminated in Bethany making tea for Niamh that evening, who had been locked away in her office as of late. Bethany was still nervous despite receiving permission to enter the room, allowing her to face the woman who she hadn’t seen in nearly a fortnight. Concern grew within her when she saw the shadows beneath Niamh’s eyes—a familiar indication that she had been working far too hard. She watched as Niamh struggled to blink the exhaustion from her eyes as she regarded her, but she otherwise said nothing, simply waiting to hear what Bethany required of her.

“I’m sorry," Bethany said at last, contrition clear in her voice. "This isn’t the life I would have wanted for myself, but I shouldn’t have lashed out at you when you were merely trying to help.” She held out the still-steaming mug of tea in her hands—the very thing Saoirse had convinced her would make for a suitable peace offering. “Here,” she offered with a tentative smile. “If you’re going to be working through the night again, you should at least drink something.”

For a time, Bethany believed the other woman was just going to remain silent. It would have been well-deserved given how terribly she behaved the other week, but then Niamh reached out to gently take the mug from her.

"Thank you," she said at last, the ice slowly melting behind those wintry eyes, and as they did, Bethany could feel the vice around her heart gradually unhinge itself in relief.

---

Things pretty much go back to normal between them.

Niamh and Bethany are back on the road again, especially after several reports of wandering darkspawn near the outskirts of a town.

As expected, however, Bethany's longing toward Niamh is still there—constant as an evening star. Even with the taint of death coursing through them, Niamh’s aura emanates with so much life—like a forest in winter, cool and refreshing with the scent of pine buried beneath its depths, waiting to burst into spring’s lively greenery with just the barest spark of magic.

It fascinates her.

She often wonders if such single-minded focus is a side effect of the Joining other than the enhanced physical strength and the ability to sense darkspawn. She feels a hunger that is never sated, a thirst that is never parched, and also…

Amber eyes wander over to where Niamh is disrobing to bathe in the nearby river, and she catches sight of the elegant play of muscles along her back before she studiously turns her gaze away. She feels the way her face burns even as she feels something else stir in her veins.

---

While still traveling, they get attacked by some hapless bandits, and while the two women aren't hurt, they manage to lose one of their tents to a stray grenade.

They end up sleeping in the remaining tent together, but it’s small, and they huddle together inside it for warmth against the pouring rain outside.

Bethany is surprised when she unexpectedly wakes up in Niamh’s arms—one is around her waist, and the other is curled behind her shoulders—which pull her closer in sleep. Sometimes she’s amazed at just how warm the other woman is, and although she knows she should pull away to avoid any awkward conversations in the morning, she can’t bring herself to do so. This is probably as close as she’ll ever get to the intimacy she desires with Niamh, and while the moment won’t last forever, it’ll be one more memory she can cherish—something no one else can ever steal from her.

Idly, Bethany listens to the rain outside—now a gentle pattering instead of the rage of a growing storm—falling against the material of the tent, and the sound is so rhythmic that she begins to doze off again.

---

Sometime after that, they receive a letter from Stroud, who requests their assistance with a matter out in the Free Marches. Saoirse stays behind to oversee things at Vigil’s Keep, which leaves Niamh and Bethany to travel across the Waking Sea with Nathaniel as additional support.

They arrive in Kirkwall several days before the qunari invasion begins in full, but not long after they do, Nathaniel’s reconnaissance around the city reveals something terrible:

Bethany’s mother was murdered.

Bethany is understandably upset, but Niamh and Nathaniel do their best to comfort her. They end up holding a small wake in honor of Leandra.

By the time they manage to rendezvous with Stroud, the qunari invasion has already begun, and they’re caught in the middle of it, leading to the Wardens running into Emrys Hawke and her companions.

Emrys obviously wants to talk to her little sister, but Bethany is resistant to the idea since her emotions are still riding high with the news of their mother’s death and the ever-present resentment regarding how she was made into a Warden without her say so on the matter.

Niamh recognizes Bethany’s tension and politely tells Emrys to leave the matter be for the time being. There is little point in having a conversation if one half of the party isn’t ready to have it after all.

Running on adrenaline, the warrior objects and tries to push her out of the way, but Bethany retaliates immediately on Niamh’s behalf. She presses her hand against her sister's chestplate and essentially shoves her back several steps, momentarily forgetting her Warden strength. Both Hawkes seem surprised by the ease in which she can do that.

---

“Bethany?” Emrys uttered in confusion, especially as her sister outright glared at her.

"You do not accost Warden-Constable Cousland that way!"

“Wait… ‘Cousland?’” Emrys looked over to the woman in question, taking in the obvious staff situated across her back. A wolf’s head ornament adorned the top of the weapon in exquisitely-sculpted silverite, and her eyes slowly widened in realization, remembering tales of the mage who could bend the very heavens to her whims. “Wait, you’re the Storm Wolf of Ferelden? Sister to the Hero of Ferelden?”

The woman merely gave a long-suffering sigh in response. “I suppose I was being too optimistic in assuming Leliana’s tales would’ve lost their weight this far past Ferelden’s borders…”

---

Despite the chaos ravaging itself across Kirkwall, the Wardens can’t stay to help. As such, they’re not there to see the end of the invasion. It isn’t until Bethany returns to Ferelden with the others that she receives a letter from Varric, saying that Emrys nearly died in her duel against the Arishok.

While Varric takes the time to mention that Emrys is recovering, and that her bravery led to her becoming Kirkwall’s Champion, the idea that Bethany had nearly lost the very last member of her family is so shocking that she's left inconsolable one night.

---

"I was such an absolute wretch to her before we left, and she nearly died afterward!” she wept when Niamh came to check on her in her room. “She’ll never forgive me!"

The other woman’s eyes are sympathetic as she held her in her arms. "Don’t be so sure."

"How can you say that?" Bethany demanded as she looked up at her, eyes red and swollen with grief.

"I’ve seen the way you talk about her, Bethany. The memories stir up more than just hurt within you,” she explained. “They light your eyes up with joy in remembrance of them. I’m sure she misses you and wishes things had gone differently. She wouldn’t have bothered sending all these letters to you otherwise over the years.

"My siblings did the same when I was still in Kinloch Hold, where I often wondered if my family had forgotten all about me. There were times I feared my being a mage would have meant their love for me would have gone away, but it didn’t. I received letters from them all the time—sometimes over the most asinine things like Saoirse’s warhound tossing bits of her armor into the pig pen." Niamh rolled her eyes, but Bethany could see the fondness in her gaze before they refocused on her.

"Your sister has asked for nothing in return even in the times where you never sent word back. I won’t tell you how to resolve this. You were right in saying that no one truly asks for this life, but I believe she only had the best of intentions when she entrusted your safety to Stroud. Trust in that if nothing else, and if you still find the matter wanting, tell her so." Something sad and brittle lingered on the smile she shared with her. "The what-ifs hurt more than the reality of things at times. No one deserves that."

---

Niamh helps to cheer Bethany up over the course of several weeks.

They’re off in a nearby town, investigating more sightings of darkspawn, and Niamh goes downstairs to pay the innkeeper for breakfast while Bethany packs up some of her belongings to continue their journey. When she reaches for her staff, she blinks, startled to find an ice flower blossoming on the end of it. She stares in surprise at the door the other woman had left through because there’s no way someone else could have done this.

It's almost like something out of a scene from one of those romantic tales Leliana used to tell her back in Lothering. She had thought them nonsense at first—that surely no one actually did such sweet things in real life—but now…

Bethany gently brushes her fingers over the beautifully-conjured petals and leaves, feeling the cool aura radiating from them.

Now she’s not so sure.

---

During their travels, they’re ambushed by darkspawn, and in the middle of the fighting, the ground manages to crumble beneath both women’s feet. The fall is long and painful as they slide down an old mine shaft, and soon they find themselves down in the Deep Roads. Unfortunately, it's an area they haven't charted yet, so they have no idea where they even are.

They have rations from the last time Niamh hunted and smoked some game, but they know it won't last forever. They can feel the press of darkspawn everywhere against their senses, and it's difficult to get any real bearing down in the tunnels because of it. The ambushes are sporadic throughout the days as they try to find their way back to the surface. They have taken to sleeping in brief shifts so they’re not caught unaware.

One fight lags on long enough that they have to retreat, but their enemies lead them right into the lair of a broodmother.

Bethany has never seen something so hideous in all her life, but when she turns briefly to Niamh, she’s disquieted to find the other woman looks more terrified than she's ever seen her. She barely has time to think over that before the darkspawn attack them again, but now they have the broodmother and her various tentacles to dodge as well.

The fight rages on for quite awhile, long enough that Bethany voices the thought they might never see Vigil's Keep again.

---

“No.”

"Niamh—"

"No!" she repeated firmly, glaring as she lashed out with an arm, incinerating an advancing line of darkspawn to their right. "I am getting you out of here! I swear it!"

You.

Not us.

What are you planning, Niamh? Bethany couldn't help but think worriedly.

Then she felt the sudden rush of magic—causing Bethany to almost stumble in place at the overwhelming sensation—as Niamh’s aura manifested itself more tangibly in an array of colors. Blinding arcs of lightning and lines of roaring flames raced across her form, and Bethany could see her own breath forming in rapid, exhausted puffs as the temperature inside the entire cavern seemed to drop even as the stone walls rattled ominously from the breadth of absolute magic being conjured.

The power of it was soon unleashed as Niamh slammed her staff end into the ground, allowing countless rays of energy to simply explode from her body. They radiated out like spectral hands of vengeance, and the cries of the darkspawn were nearly drowned out entirely as utter destruction rained down upon them. Each blast hit like deafening peals of thunder, and the echoes of them spanned for several long heartbeats, leaving Bethany’s ears ringing even after everything eventually fell silent.

As the dust and debris finally settled from the turbulent winds, she could see the other mage leaning heavily upon her staff, utterly exhausted. Each breath she took seemed to be a laborious effort, but Bethany watched as those eyes remained keenly alert to their surroundings, waiting to see if any of the darkspawn she had laid waste to would try and attack them again. They both tensed upon hearing the low, wailing groan of pain, and they looked to the far side of the cavern to see the broodmother still alive—albeit barely.

While already repulsive, it was now a macabre mass of flesh, bleeding sluggishly from the wounds inflicted by Niamh’s attack. Bloated skin bore severe burn marks, and entire chunks of flesh were missing. One of the broodmother’s arms had been severed completely, but the heat from one of the elemental attacks had unintentionally cauterized the fat stump even if Bethany grimaced upon seeing the pink-tinged bone that still protruded from it. The broodmother’s entire form seemed to slump back with what they assumed was her final breath, but then the sudden sound of earth breaking behind them alerted them far too late to a final danger.

Bethany turned her head just in time to see a lashing tentacle sprout from the ground, and her mind barely registered the sight of it before she heard the frantic call of her name along with warm hands pressing against her side.

"Bethany!"

As if time had slowed itself, she watched in horror as Niamh pushed her out of the tentacle’s swooping path, but in doing so, the other woman took the brunt of the attack entirely. Niamh was sent flying into one of the naturally-formed pillars of the cavern, impacting it hard enough that it broke at its center, raining rubble down upon the mage resting eerily still at its base until she was buried beneath it.

Bethany’s eyes remained fixed on the sight even as she shakily rose to her hands and knees. An overwhelming sense of disbelief overtook when her longtime partner didn't emerge at all out of the stone pile. In fact, there's a terrifying lack of anything in that direction.

Nothing of the taint in Niamh's blood.

No sound.

No magic.

Just... nothing.

Distantly, she could hear the half-dying moans of the broodmother somewhere beyond her peripheral vision. Although Bethany was all too aware of how dangerous her current situation still was, all she could feel was a staggering rush of absolute rage building inside her. It seemed to grow with every beat of her heart until she could hear it pounding inside her ears—a drumming sound of accusation over the fact that she had been powerless to help someone dear to her yet again.

It was her anger that gave birth to the sudden burst of power—whether a second wind or simply a dying gasp, she didn’t immediately know—but Bethany whirled to face the grotesque beast, magic already gathering within her hands. With an infuriated cry, she pressed her palms out, and she felt the immense displacement of air around her immediately as she summoned enough force magic to take up almost the entire space of the cavern. The pressure of it proved too much against the broodmother, and Bethany watched impassively as its enormous body was flung toward the far wall with enough violence that it was reduced to a grisly splatter of darkened blood, pulverized bone, and putrid meat.

With its death, Bethany felt the presence of darkspawn waiting beyond the cavern retreat even further, as if afraid of tempting her fury. Safe from any immediate threats, however, she wasted little time in rushing over to where she last saw Niamh. She used her hands and magic to try and dig her out beneath the rubble, but when she found her, fear took hold of her immediately when she realized the other woman wasn’t breathing anymore. Desperately, Bethany tried to use her healing magic in an attempt revive her, but to her utter dismay, the chest beneath her hands remained impossibly still.

“Oh, no…” she breathed. “No. No! You can’t be dead! Niamh, get up!”

But her cry fell on deaf ears.

Despite her best efforts, no matter how much healing she tried to force through the other woman’s veins, Niamh didn’t respond. As each minute continued to pass by in silence, Bethany began to wonder what she’d have to tell Morrigan if she ever made it back to the surface, let alone the little boy with Niamh’s kind smile. It would be such a terrible thing, she knew, informing them the woman they loved died trying to save her.

Just like everyone that ever entered her life.

Leaving before she even got the chance to give her goodbyes.

Bethany withdrew her healing magic and began conjuring lightning beneath her hands instead—the same way Niamh had taught her once upon a time—desperate for anything that could attempt to shock some life back into the other woman. Niamh’s body jolted with each burst of power, head lolling about along the dirt, but she still remained impossibly beyond Bethany’s reach—perhaps now wandering past the Fade and into the Maker’s embrace.

At the thought, her anguish soon gave way to anger.

“Damn you, you selfish wretch!” she shouted as she pressed her hand over the woman’s sternum with another pulse of electricity. “I never asked you to try and save my life! You don’t get to do this to me! You don’t get to just leave me here when I never had to chance to tell you everything! Not when you don’t even know I love y—”

Just as she went to jolt the other woman again, Bethany felt a hand firmly wrapping itself around her wrist.

Shocked, she looked up toward Niamh's face, especially as she heard a very weak cough. The other mage hadn't opened her eyes yet, but she saw how the still blue-tinged lips began to move—too soft for her to hear anything. Bethany lowered her head to listen more closely and soon heard a quiet question.

"...are you alright?"

Her breath caught in her throat, and fresh tears began to fill Bethany's eyes again in spite of herself.

Even after everything they had both suffered through, Niamh's first concern had still been solely for her.

With a shaky breath, she carefully curled herself up against Niamh’s form, crying silently even as she rested her hand against the other woman's stomach to continue and apply weak, healing magic.

That was how the other Wardens found them later.

"There they are."

Bethany didn’t pick her head up off the floor, but there was little mistaking Morrigan's distinct voice. Saoirse’s own followed soon after.

"I owe you my thanks for this, Morrigan."

“Thank your sister; I would not have been able to find her were she still not wearing the ring I gave her years ago.”

A weary chuckled greeted the mage’s words. “Ever the sentimental woman, my little sister…”

The sound of heavy footsteps treading closer caused Bethany to look up, and she could see Saoirse kneeling down next to them. The warrior’s face was worn with stress, but there was nothing but relief in her eyes as she saw them both together. "It appears I owe you my thanks as well, Bethany." She jerked her head up then, shouting out an order. "Get a litter for them now!"

"But I'm not nearly as injured," Bethany protested, drawing her hand away from Niamh’s body self-consciously, especially when Morrigan appeared and began to take over healing and stabilizing the woman’s condition with fresh magic.

"No," Saoirse admitted even as her lips lifted up into a tired smile. "But you and I both know what a terrible patient my sister is. I’ll be depending on you to make sure she behaves herself if she wakes up during our trek back to Vigil’s Keep.” She gently clapped a hand over Bethany’s shoulder. “Thank you. I owe you a debt.”

“Warden-Commander—”

“No. Niamh and I have lost enough in our lives. It would have hurt me to lose her as well.”

---

Niamh remains unconscious for several days as she recovers back at Vigil's Keep.

Bethany and Morrigan basically take turns looking after her.

Despite the other woman’s position as a member of Orlais’ Imperial Court, it seemed Morrigan returned to Ferelden after receiving a frantic letter from Saoirse, saying that Niamh and Bethany had been missing for several days following a routine mission.

As mentioned in the previous section, Morrigan gave Niamh a ring, which would allow her to find her were she ever in danger. It proved especially useful when Niamh and the other Wardens were imprisoned in Fort Drakon, where Saoirse essentially put her foot in her mouth and ruined their attempt to sneak Queen Anora out of the estate she had been held captive in.

I believe the ring is only canonically available if a player is in a romance with Morrigan. However, I’m headcanoning that because she held Niamh in such high esteem, she gave it to her anyway.

Kieran is also present at Vigil’s Keep because there’s no way Morrigan was leaving him behind in Orlais. He’s about five years old at this point, and he’s grown to inherit both his mothers’ looks. A crown of dark, loose curls sits atop his head much like Niamh’s, and he even fashions a forelock like hers, which hangs in front of his right eye. His gaze is a piercing shade of gold reminiscent to Morrigan’s own. As a possessor of an Old God Soul, he’s also begun to speak cryptically at times, which is understandably jarring to those around him.

Bethany happens upon one such conversation by accident, and she immediately pauses in the doorway when she sees Morrigan and Kieran standing at Niamh’s bedside.

“Sire was caught within the paths of the Fade, Mother. She heard the voices of old ghosts calling to her, but she didn’t follow them.”

Morrigan indulgently runs a hand through her son’s hair. “Indeed; she did not.”

“She missed them though, but she still returned to us.”

“Of course. Why would she desire an eternity without you?” she asked with a fond smile, causing Kieran to giggle.

“That’s not why, Mother! Not completely.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. She would have missed the Sunshine too much. She’s been following her warmth for years. It would have hurt her to be without it.”

Kieran’s words pull at Bethany oddly, but she soon pushes them out of her mind and quietly walks away, feeling too much like an intruder upon the small family.

Thankfully, Niamh regains consciousness not long afterward, and everyone is understandably relieved by this news.

As per usual, however, Niamh proves herself to be an exceedingly stubborn patient, but perhaps wanting to set a better example for Kieran after her near-death experience, she remains in bed for the duration of her recovery. The other woman doesn’t seem to mind too much, especially given that her son continues to keep her company, telling her of the various odd things he’s seen around Orlais and the even odder people.

After several weeks under Morrigan’s watchful eye, the witch begrudgingly says that Niamh's okay to begin light duty around the Keep, relieving the other mage immensely. She goes out herb-gathering, an excuse just to get out of the fortress, and Bethany volunteers to go with her.

Things are quiet between them for a time as they begin picking up elfroot to place in the shared basket between them. Their conversations as of late haven't been of anything too substantial. A good thing, Bethany thinks, considering her feelings for her and how close she’d been to revealing them. Soon, however, they're caught in the middle of a light rain shower, and Bethany says they should head back. She begins to lead their way out of the forest when Niamh’s words stop her in her tracks.

---

"I was waiting for you to say it again, you know."

Bethany looked over her shoulder in surprise to still see Niamh standing in the middle of the clearing, her gaze expectant. “What?” she asked nervously.

"When I nearly died, I heard you say something… significant to me,” she revealed, causing Bethany’s heart to pound as she stared at her in disbelief. “However, when I recovered and you never repeated those words again, I thought it might have been little more than a fever dream of mine." Niamh's smile turned sad then when Bethany said nothing else to her words. "Perhaps it was after all... I’m sorry. I’ve made this rather awkward then, haven’t I?” She took a few steps closer, reaching toward the basket of herbs Bethany still held in her hands. “Here, let me—”

But Bethany just let it drop to the ground before she reached out to grab the collar of Niamh’s cloak. The other woman seemed taken aback, but before she can even begin voicing a question, Bethany pulled her forward to kiss her desperately in the rain, swallowing her gasp of surprise.

As far as first kisses went, it was a touch awkward as their teeth clicked together, lips mashed between them. Bethany felt a moment of panic as Niamh pulled back, but before the urge to run away in mortification could overtake her, a warm palm pressed itself against the back of her neck, keeping her in place. There was the brush of knuckles as they ran along her jaw, and Bethany was just able to catch the silver of Niamh’s eyes before all thought fled from her mind upon feeling the soft press of the other woman’s mouth on hers.

Bethany followed into the easy guidance being offered, and they both soon settled into a comfortable rhythm that sent pleasurable shivers down her spine. She felt light-headed with giddy delight, and her hands reached out to hold onto Niamh’s hips, helping to ground herself there, as their kiss continued. There was a soft sound as Niamh sighed contentedly into her mouth, as if she had been waiting just as long for this moment between them.

The thought seemed almost too impossible to comprehend, especially when she knew Niamh was committed to someone else. As such, Bethany pulled away first despite the sound of protest it caused. Despite her resolve, Bethany was reluctant to pull away from Niamh entirely, so she settled for gently leaning her forehead against the other mage as they panted quietly in the rain.

"I'm so sorry," she said breathlessly, practically speaking the words against Niamh’s lips. "It wasn't my intention to interfere with your relationship with Morrigan."

As close as they were, there was little mistaking the clear confusion in the eyes across from hers. "'With Morrigan?'" Niamh repeated. "What does she have anything to do with us?"

"But… I thought—” Her brows drew together in consternation. “Aren’t you both together?"

"What? No," Niamh answered, almost amused by the idea. "When we laid together for the ritual, it was an agreement of mutual benefit meant only for that night. She's not—Well." An exhale of breath escaped her in the form of laughter. "Morrigan's admitted she's not interested in women—or anyone, really—in quite that way, but none of the male Wardens with us at the time dared to lay with her even if it meant sparing us all from death. She trusted me, and I her. I consider Morrigan one of my dearest friends, and we share Kieran together as a result of that night, yes, but we are certainly not bound together as others seem to believe."

And Niamh’s answer suddenly changed everything.

What Bethany had been feeling, what was now possible between her and Niamh...

She couldn’t help but smile as she finally realized she could have a bit of the happiness she’d always wanted for herself.

---

So everyone knows that they’re a couple after that.

Niamh becomes more overt in the romantic things she does for her—the very same things Bethany had thought were the woman simply being thoughtful. She finds out that Niamh had apparently been interested in her for awhile and had actually been ready to confess her feelings a few years ago, but their first argument, where Bethany had accused her of being too idealistic, had stemmed the thought immediately.

Niamh had been understandably heartbroken by the words, which was why she’d had been so despondent for weeks following the incident, believing Bethany had no romantic interest in her whatsoever. The apology in her office later had restored their friendship, and while Niamh had been disappointed it likely would never evolve into anything more beyond that, she was still determined to be a good friend to her if nothing else. 

Bethany’s completely exasperated at the idea that they could have been together long before now, but she realizes it was likely better this way.

She had needed time to get over her anger and resentment regarding her life as a Warden.

She needed time to get past her guilt and the complicated thoughts regarding herself and her faith.

And she needed time to grow into herself and discover who she was as a person.

She’s grateful that Niamh’s been so kind and patient over the years, and Bethany finds great joy in the new facet of their relationship together.

They’ve kissed and been involved in heavy makeout sessions around Vigil’s Keep—much to the exasperation of their colleagues—but barring the incident that led to Kieran’s conception, Niamh’s been celibate for years, and canonical dialogue in DA2 reveals that Bethany’s pretty much a virgin. As such, she’s understandably very shy and nervous about the whole thing. However, she knew every part of her would be in good hands with Niamh when they finally reached that point.

Their first time together takes place several months after their first kiss, where Niamh tries her utmost to make it a memorable thing for them. She takes Bethany to a grove they frequent together outside of Vigil’s Keep for a midnight picnic. The moon is full, and the skies are clear, revealing an endless sea of stars. Little fireflies dance over the surface of the lake while they sit on the grass along its shore.

It’s a casual reminder that for all their hardship, life goes on and finds a way through a magic all of its own.

They stargaze for and handfeed each other little bits of food in between kisses, but soon things start getting a little more heated. Niamh gently tugs Bethany onto her lap, who follows willingly, settling her knees on either side of the woman’s hips. Bethany takes some initiative of her own, pushing at Niamh’s chest slowly until she lowers herself against the grass, and then…

---

Bethany’s breath caught in her throat upon seeing Niamh’s features haloed by the soft glow of the little fireflies. Normally pale eyes had darkened at their edges with both pleasure and interest as she regarded her, leaving Bethany flushed, especially as she realized she doesn’t quite know what to do from there on out.

Perhaps having sensed that, Niamh reached up to gently run a thumb along the corner of her mouth, and Bethany barely resisted the urge to press her lips against the pad in a kiss as slim fingers then went to cup her cheek gently.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” Niamh reassured as she brushed a few strands of Bethany’s hair behind an ear. “I quite like kissing you.”

But Bethany did want to.

She knew Niamh had more experience with sexual intimacy, and she worried she couldn’t be able to compare against the woman’s past paramours. There was no expectation in those starlit eyes however. Niamh was as relaxed as she had been when they first started, and Bethany knew she would have been more than content to lay with her beneath the stars if that was all she desired. She was always considerate with her feelings, never pressing her to do more than she was ready.

Thus, Bethany knew Niamh would be patient with her during their first time together.

“If I asked, would you show me what to do?” she whispered tentatively, and she watched as the corners of those lips turned up into soft smile.

“Always,” Niamh answered, gently tugging Bethany’s hand toward the buckle holding the front of her leather and steel-riveted brigandine closed. “Here. Help me out of this first please.” 

From there, Bethany quickly realized it all wasn’t quite as simple as the tawdry novels Isabela used to loan her made it out to be. Nothing really prepared for the warmth of the flesh beneath her fingertips as she gradually disrobed her lover of the layers that made up their Warden regalia. Fortune favored the bold, she knew, and she experimented by pressing kisses against skin as more was revealed to her. She smiled against Niamh’s sternum—pleased—when she heard the exceedingly rare quiver in her voice.

As promised, however, the other woman continued to give suggestions on what types of touches would best give pleasure, but she also allowed Bethany to set the pace of whatever she felt most comfortable with. With each encouraging whisper against her ear, each caress and rock of her hand became more confident. When Niamh shuddered beneath her for the first time—the barest hint of magic curling against her own—as she reached her peak, Bethany was convinced that she had never felt more triumphant.

And she didn’t think she had ever felt so unfettered when Niamh later returned the favor by kissing a line of fire down her bare body. Those mist-grey eyes never left her own gaze though. Bethany had long known how attentive the other mage could be. As their lead tactician, there was always a studious quality in how she approached anything set before her.

Feeling the full magnitude of that attention focused solely upon her, however, was another matter entirely. Niamh stared at her as if she had hung the very moon and the infinite tapestry of stars into the night sky. It was like she was her very reason for drawing breath, and the thought of that brought forth a stunning wash of emotions over her as she saw the clear reverence in those eyes—so much so that she couldn’t help the tears beading themselves across her lashes nor her soft, surprised exhale of laughter when Niamh leaned up to gently kiss them away.

It was only when she assured her lover that she was ready to continue that Niamh returned to her exploration. The woman was committed to learning every part of her, gauging every physical response—the touches that made her moan breathlessly or sigh in contentment with the press of lips against her skin—before reacting accordingly. She felt that dedication most vividly as a warm mouth settled between her thighs and began working itself thoroughly there.

Bethany couldn’t help but break eye contact with Niamh as she threw her head back against the cool grass, lost to the new but pleasant sensations coursing their way through her body. Her hips seemed to move of their own volition, especially as the almost overwhelming heat of a tongue pressed itself flat and lapped languidly at her.

After a time, it felt like she was freefalling, and she blindly reached out toward Niamh. One hand sank itself easily into the tousled waves of raven-black hair, but with the other, Bethany found slim fingers gently intertwining themselves with her own. There was strength and reassurance within the warmth of that grasp—a steady tether to ground her—even as Niamh continued with her ministrations, quickly unraveling the foundations of her world.

Were you the answer this entire time?

Were you the one whom my heart was always waiting for?

Bethany found her answer just as her climax crested over her.

---

The next scene takes place several months after Niamh’s and Bethany’s first time together but just before the Kirkwall Rebellion.

Niamh heads over to Amaranthine to see her aunt, Eithne Mac Eanraig, since she's the Arlessa there.

Now, here’s where I’m veering off from canon.

Per the events of Awakening, the Warden ends up becoming the Warden-Commander, and for their services during the Fifth Blight, Vigil’s Keep along with the entire arling of Amaranthine was given to the Grey Wardens. The fortress and the territory originally belonged to the Howes, but after Rendon Howe’s betrayal, all titles and properties were stripped away from them. As such, the Warden-Commander would also become the Arl or Arlessa of Amaranthine.

Per my headcanon though, Saoirse felt that she couldn’t tend to both her duties as a Warden while also ruling over the arling. Thus, she suggests to King Alistair to let her aunt oversee it instead.

While Eithne is technically my own creation, it was canonical that Eleanor had three siblings prior to marrying Bryce Cousland. All the children of Bann Fearcher Mac Eanraig—also known as the Storm Giant—were exceedingly skilled raiders although Eleanor was the most infamous of them. Still, I headcanon that Eithne’s own prowess allowed her to take over as head of the family and their impressive fleet after her father’s death sometime before the events of DAO.

I also headcanon that the Mac Eanraigs and their fleet proved instrumental during the Fifth Blight, allowing desperately-needed supplies to travel to the country without fear of them being intercepted by pirates. When the reconstruction of Ferelden began in full following the defeat of the Archdemon, Eithne opted to expand the services of her family’s fleet, offering to escort any incoming and also outgoing cargo ships. This allowed trade to flourish in Ferelden since the threat of piracy was reduced greatly against the might of the former raiding family and their respective crews. With goods being consistently transported and received, it led to the otherwise pricey import and export tariffs being lowered significantly.

It expanded the influence of the Mac Eanraigs considerably to say the least, and while they were of minor nobility compared to the Couslands, the family was already well-respected for their long connection to the Storm Coast and their role in the Fereldan Rebellion as well as the Fifth Blight.

As such, no objection was given by Ferelden’s Bannorn when the Mac Eanraigs were consequently raised further in nobility by the decree of King Alistair and Queen Anora, allowing Eithne to officially be named Arlessa to the city of Amaranthine.

---

"Aunt Eithne," Niamh began, walking into her office, "may I have access to the castle's forge?"

The older woman was sat behind her desk, looking through various reports when she glanced up at her. Kind, weathered features warmed instantly. "Ah, there's my wee Storm Pup," she said as she rose to her feet to meet her. "You know you’re welcome to anything within the castle, lass. I take it that blacksmith of yours is being stubborn at Vigil’s Keep again?"

As per usual, Niamh found herself looking up at her aunt as she rounded the edge of her desk. While her late mother Eleanor had been roughly her own size, the Mac Eanraigs as a whole towered over most people with their intimidating height and broad-shouldered frames—traits that Fergus and also Saoirse inherited as they grew into adulthood. In her youth, Niamh remembered that her Aunt Eithne had also possessed her mother’s pale blonde hair, but it had since turned silver with age and was now kept in a neat braid that dangled in front of her right shoulder. She imagined that Saoirse would likely resemble their aunt greatly in looks over the next few decades.

…provided they find a cure against the Calling first, of course.

Morrigan’s arcane research had turned up several possibilities, but the latest one she’d found seemed especially promising. Still, Niamh put the thought from her mind momentarily to answer her aunt’s question.

"You and I both know Master Wade won’t allow anyone to go near his forge. He’d pout for weeks on end before we could convince him to resume work again,” she said dryly before shrugging. “Just as well, I suppose. He can’t keep a secret to save his life. What I have in mind is more of a personal project."

Dark grey eyes blinked. "Oh?" she intoned curiously.

"It's... Well." Niamh shifted from foot to foot, a tad nervous to put her thoughts into words. "I'm making matching torcs for Bethany and I, so—oof!"

No sooner after she had stated her purpose did Niamh unexpectedly found herself drawn up into a crushing hug by her aunt, who lifted her clear off her feet with the force of it.

"Haha!" Eithne crowed with delighted laughter as she twirled her about. "Wait until I tell your uncles about this! Why, it’s been ages since we’ve had a wedding in the family!"

"We had one a year ago for Fergus and Olithia," Niamh corrected hoarsely as she tried to wriggle out of her aunt's grip to little avail. Corded muscles built over a lifetime at sea ensured the woman’s strength was nigh unbreakable. "And there was another for Saoirse and Leliana before that."

"Details, wee niece, details," she brushed aside when she placed Niamh back on her feet again, placing large hands over each of her shoulders with a grin. "Honestly, I was half-convinced my ashes would be scattered across the sea before I saw my last niece be married off! Dermot!" she called out loudly beyond the walls of office to her second-in-command, leaving Niamh wincing from the sheer volume of it. "Break out the casks! We’re celebrating tonight!"

Niamh merely sighed, somehow glad that Bethany was currently away from Vigil’s Keep with Nathaniel to tend to a matter out in another seaside province. There was no way she’d be able to surprise her with a proposal otherwise.

---

Bethany didn't know what to really expect when Niamh took her out to their favored grove, but then she was offered a… necklace of some sort. It was thick and sturdy but exquisitely-crafted. It formed an incomplete circle, but there was no clasp holding both ends together. As she took the necklace into her own hands, she found there was a certain pliability to it as she stretched the space between the twin, silverite wolf heads open a bit more.

"I spent weeks getting the details just right," Niamh admitted. "The hardest part was finding the perfect bits of citrine to match your eyes," she added, pointing to the small, gemstone orbs held in the maw of each wolf.

"You made this for me?" Bethany asked, awed.

"Yes. It’s a custom from the maternal side of my family. They’re generally gifted to those of status or individuals who have achieved great deeds. The more bands woven together designate one's importance." Niamh's expression turned somewhat sheepish then. "I don't think it needs to be said that I think highly of you."

Bethany looked at the thick braiding and saw that there were at least five bands wound together in a cord and then welded together.

"I..." Niamh wet her lips briefly, as if caught beneath sudden nervousness. "I realize marriage is usually just a matter of settling titles and heirs, but I believe you know by now that my family tends to eschew commonly-held norms. As such, I would consider it a great honor if you were to become my wife. As for anything official—a wedding for instance—we needn't concern ourselves with it right away. Not if you don't wish to certainly." Silver-colored eyes rolled themselves. "Honestly, my family uses any type of excuse available to throw a celebration. They’ll likely still drink the night away, knowing that I’ve finally settled down with someone."

Bethany couldn’t help but laugh at that. "They were that invested, were they?"

"Before you, they had a tendency to think I was more married to my duty within the Order, and I can’t say that were not wrong in thinking so."

"And that’s changed?"

"Well... I was managing day by day as well as any of our comrades, but I won’t lie in saying that there came a point when you were all I could ever think about in the many moments in between."

It was… quite the confession.

In an instant, all the stories her mother had ever told her of romance paled in comparison to this moment.

"Yes," Bethany said at last, watching as the ghostly-grey eyes across from her widened, but there was little hiding the hope building within their depths.

"Yes?"

"Yes to the—" She stumbled a bit over the word. "—torcs, you said?” Bethany asked in clarification, earning her a nod along with a very relieved sigh. “I don’t want a ceremony.” She bit her lip as she stared down at the thickly-braided necklace. “At least not just yet, but I like the idea of the promise these contain.”

“You would like to have your sister here when the time comes,” Niamh deduced understandingly. “Very well.”

“You can wait?”

A very warm smile burnished beautiful features that she had long fallen in love with so many years ago. “A Chuisle Mo Chroí,” she began, voicing an endearment that never ceased to make her heart flutter, “for you, I would gladly wait a thousand Ages and more.” (Writer’s note: A Chuisle Mo Chroí is phonetically pronounced Ah Khush-lah Muh Kree and means “Pulse of My Heart.”)

The words earned her a heartfelt kiss of gratitude. If Niamh noticed Bethany was trembling, she said nothing of it. In fact, they both had little to say at all as they slowly lowered themselves to the grass and surrendered themselves to the night and the promise of everyday thereafter.

---

The Kirkwall Rebellion still happens in this verse, and because Saoirse's busy butting heads with the higher-ups at Weisshaupt, she sends word to Niamh, asking her to go to Kirkwall to provide Leliana backup if things get bad. Bethany is concerned as well about the well-being of her sister Emrys, and she asks to go with her. Niamh, of course, can't really deny her anything, so they both take the fastest ship across the Waking Sea.

---

"There you are," Bethany declared when she managed to come across her sister and her companions despite the chaos around them. She settled her staff over her back, walking through the tangle of defeated Templars around her to meet them. "We’ve been looking everywhere for you. I'd almost feared you were dead."

Emrys hadn’t expected Bethany’s presence in the city, but she’s beyond elated to see her. At her words, the warrior merely preened. "As if they'd be able to best me. And, uh, what’s this about 'we?'" Emrys asked, confused. “Did you bring the other Wardens with you?”

“Just one.”

As if attuned to her thoughts, Niamh made her entrance then by Fadestepping through a handful of Templars—who had arrived on scene as backup—freezing them in their tracks. She and Bethany had momentarily split up to try and cover more ground in search of Emrys.

Bethany arched a brow at her sister while gesturing toward her lover with an emphatic wave. "You remember Warden-Constable Cousland, don’t you?"

Emrys had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed as she recalled their last meeting, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly as she regarded Niamh. "Oh. Yes. Uh, about the last time we met—"

But Niamh seemed amused more than anything, waving aside the apology graciously. “Bygones, Champion. No need to worry yourself about the past. My sister’s a warrior as well; I’ve fared worse on the rare occasion."

"In any case, Sister, if you need help, we’ll gladly give it."

“Really?”

“Yes. I…” Bethany swept a bit of hair behind her ear nervously, but as Niamh settled alongside her, offering her wordless support, she continued on. “I wanted to apologize for what happened down in the Deep Roads and for how we parted the last time I was here. You saved my life, but I couldn’t see past my own anger back then. I’m sorry,” she whispered, contrite. “I should have said it long before now. You’re all I have left of our family, so if you need help against the Templars, say the word.”

Emrys looked beyond thrilled at the prospect of having her at her side again. “I’m certainly not going to turn away help now of all times, but…” She shot a look of confusion over toward Niamh. “I thought Wardens weren’t to involve themselves in political matters?"

The other mage merely sighed. “While true, that follows a line of policy that my sister and I strenuously object to, especially given the matter involved here. She and I will deal with the leadership at Weisshaupt later if need be." Slim shoulder shrugged themselves then. "Of course, even if my sister-in-law weren't nearby, Bethany wanted to help, and that was good enough reason for me to be here."

Emrys’ dark brows rose at the claim, and she immediately turned a searching gaze over toward Bethany, who couldn’t help but turn her own away, flushing somewhat.

"Yes… Niamh and I are a bit of a package deal these days."

Unfortunately, the minor shift in movement allowed for something else to be revealed, and Isabela took notice of it immediately as her eyes darted toward the area of her neck just beneath the collar of her uniform.

“Wait… is that a torc?" she asked, brows raising, impressed.

“A what?" Emrys asked, flustered, especially when she saw the matching one that Niamh was also wearing.

“It's a little bit of tradition from my mother’s side of the family,” Niamh explained. “They’re beautifully-crafted pieces of jewelry, but they can be as symbolic as rings, especially in the ceremonial sense."

"'Rings?'" Emrys parroted with a choke. “‘Ceremon—’” The warrior paled instantly as she realized the implication, shakily pressing her hand against a nearby wall to steady herself when she began swaying in place. “Oh, Maker’s breath… I think—I need a moment,” she murmured, and Bethany watched—concerned—when Emrys practically folded in over herself, working to catch a breath. After a time, Emrys’ comically-wide blue eyes turned over to Niamh. “You’re married to my baby sister?"

"Engaged, technically," Niamh answered, blinking owlishly at her reaction. “I proposed to her before we left Ferelden."

---

Annnnd then Saoirse shows up because she got worried about Leliana, and she and Emrys get along like peas in a pod. They’re exceedingly competitive with one another though...

---

“Hah!” Saoirse crowed, grinning smugly at Emrys as she rested the flat of her greatsword along her shoulder. “Is that the best Kirkwall’s Champion can do? I managed to neatly cleave my opponent in half.”

Emrys merely scowled, matching pace with Saoirse as they marched toward The Gallows. “Only because I helped! Besides, that strike wouldn’t have held against him if he had a shield as well!”

“Yes, it would have!”

“Lies!” Emrys scoffed. “It would have been caught halfway through the shield before you would have been able to reach his armor!“

“Not with the proper leverage it wouldn’t have!”

As they argued heatedly about sword techniques, Niamh and Bethany shared a long-suffering glance with one another before moving on ahead of their respective sisters.

“Warriors…”

“Indeed.”

---

Eventually, this all culminates in that huge battle at the end of DA2, where Meredith is defeated. As per canon, it becomes clear that it’s no longer safe for Emrys and her companions to remain within the city without eventually facing possible repercussions from the Chantry. As such, they begin scattering to the winds not long after the end of the rebellion.

---

"You could come with us, you know," Emrys suggested.

Bethany looked over to where her sister stood next to Isabela, ready to board the ship that would take them to Antiva. Emrys’ expression was almost painfully hopeful, but Bethany knew it wasn't meant to be. Although she had resented it once upon a time, she had a duty to the Wardens, and she would not easily abandon it. She said as much to her sister.

"No. Niamh currently seeks a cure that affects the lives of every Warden."

"A cure for the Calling?” she asked, surprised. “Is that even possible?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. She is easily the cleverest person I’ve ever met though. If there is a solution, she will be the most likely one to find it, and I will not stand to be apart from her."

"I see.” Emrys rubbed the back of her neck, shoulders slumping somewhat. “So… this is goodbye again."

It was admittedly a bittersweet feeling, knowing that this had been the first time in years they had seen one another and it would likely be several more yet before they would meet again.

"For now,” she answered quietly. “You have your life, Sister, and now…" She glanced over at Niamh, who was talking to the captain of a ship heading back to lands far to the west—ones that had never been touched by the Blight, according to Morrigan. “I have mine.”

Emrys followed her gaze. “You seem happier."

"I am."

“That’s all I ever wanted for you, you know? Just to know that you were happy.”

“I know that now." Her smile turned more genuine as she stepped forward to wrap her arms around Emrys, hugging her for all she was worth. "I wish the same upon you always. Safe travels to you and Isabela, Sister."

---

And as mentioned in the bullet points up above, they spend several years traveling abroad. Some days are harder than others as they meet their fair share of challenges, but Niamh and Bethany support each endlessly through it all.

They both return to Ferelden several years after the Trepasser DLC when they’ve found a cure for the Calling. With the taint purged from their bodies, they’re guaranteed the long life that would have otherwise been denied to them. As such, Niamh and Bethany finally get married—torcs gleaming bright—as Leliana as Divine Victoria officiates the wedding.

---

And that’s pretty much it.

I have about 20 pages of random scenes I’ve yet to elaborate on for this AU, including one for the huge battle at the end of DA2, so while I don’t see it as being nearly as long as OtSttCA, it’ll likely make for quite the lengthy read when I finally get a chance to work on it properly.

Still, if this verse interests you, leave me a like, a comment, or just swing by my inbox to tell me your thoughts! Until next time, readers! Take care!

[wendystales]

Memories - lrh (Chapter Fifteen)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Fourteen ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ Chapter Sixteen

Marnie pov.

I walk into the record company, finding a very young guy at the front desk, probably the intern. Encumbered with phone calls and notes, I wait for him to finish everything before speaking. His lost eyes soon find me and he smiles sympathetically.

“Hi Marnie, Luke is in studio three.” he whispers quickly, getting back on the phone.

I smile in thanks, heading down the hallway he's pointed out. I didn't think it would be so easy. The noise coming from behind the door to studio three startles me. The boys are laughing and screaming so loud, it amazes me that no one came to complain.

I knock on the door twice, hard, to try to get their attention over that area. A guy in a cap opens the door, revealing a room with at least eight people inside.

Luke is the first to jump out of his chair, coming over to me, grinning hugely, pulling me into the room. Ash gets up too, following close behind.

“Sorry for interrupting, but I needed to talk to you.” I look at Luke, who agrees. I pull him out of the room as I hear Irwin complain.

"A disregard for my friendship. Before, she used to come here to see me, not to see you, you empty-headed bunch.”

"She never came to see you." Hood opposes.

I ignore the pre school fight, focusing on the tall blonde in front of me. I lean against the wall, letting him get closer.

Luke had spent Friday night with me, taking care of me. We also spent Saturday morning together, just existing on the couch. That was definitely a very good point for both of us and it really strengthened our relationship. It also didn't make him leave my thoughts, earning him the title of the cutest guy I know.

Never would Stephen do that to me, even because when I was bad he didn't even come close, not wanting to “catch my bad energy”.

“You forgot that at home.” I give his coat, trying to hide it was against my will deliver it so easily.

I saw the coat the second Hemmo left the house, but when the perfume enveloped me, I decided for my own good, to just keep it for a little while, spending day and night in it. Luke stares at me with a raised eyebrow before taking the coat from my hands, smiling.

“Funny, I really missed it, but yesterday, I saw it in your stories, so I didn't worry anymore.” I roll my eyes, feeling my cheeks heat up. "Let me enjoy that you still don't hate me today."

“Too late.” I interrupt him, biting my lip.

"I wonder if I can pick you up, so we can go to the Troubadour together."

The boys are playing there today, for the Friends of Friends event, and I was particularly excited, it would be the first time I would see them play live. “First time”.

I wrinkle my forehead and look around, pretending I was thinking about it. Luke looks at me in disbelief, holding back his laughter. I pout, shaking my head.

"I think you can! Yes, you can. I allow.” I press my lips together, wanting not to laugh.

“Oh God, you.” he shakes his head, looking away. I let out my laugh. "Can I pick you up at 7pm? I need to be at the Troubadour at least an hour before the show.”

“Of course! No problems. Go! Now I need to talk to Ash.” I push him back to the door.

“It's about my birthday, isn't it?” he opens an excited smile.

I dissolve my expression, wanting to hit him. Damn it, he knows. I feel the surprise party going straight down the drain, but I don't want to give in to it.

“No! The world doesn't revolve around you, Hemmings.” I cross my arm, teasing him.

“It's about my birthday! Alright, I'm going to pretend I don't know anything.” he takes two leaps into place happily.

“My God, I hate you.” I hide my face, sighing. I can't believe he screwed up his own surprise party.

“Hey.” I hear his voice close. I take my hands away from my face, finding his very close. His lips steal a kiss from me, quickly.

“Go away!” I pick up my bag, hitting him.

Luke walks into the studio laughing, yelling at Ash that I've been waiting. I walk around the hallway, wanting to wipe the stupid smile off my face. I hide my face again, returning to the scene that just happened about 50 times, at least.

“Say it!” Ash approaches.

“I hate him!” I point to the studio, taking a deep breath.

“Of course you do! And the sky is green. I can see how much you hate him, by that silly smile on your face.” Irwin raises an eyebrow.

"Don't make me use my purse against you too." I scare away the latest happenings, focusing on what mattered. "Do you have the ring?" he hands me a silver ring set with a black stone.

“Quickly, because he's already noticed he's gone.” I nod, still analyzing the jewelry.

"I'm going right now and tonight I'll return you at the Troubadour." I keep the piece in my bag. "All set for Friday?" he nodded. "You know he knows, don't you? How did he find out?”

“Behind that stupid face, he's smart sometimes.” I roll my eyes at my friend, laughing. “Seriously, if you pay attention, sometimes it feels like there's an elevator song playing in his head. Especially when he's standing staring at something.” I laugh when Ash decides to imitate Luke, staring blankly at the wall.

“You guys are terrible. Well, I'll be on my way, see you later.” I give a kiss on his cheek.

Thursday is Luke's birthday and I, more than anyone, want it to be a perfect day. Also, I want to give him a nice present that somehow doesn't involve my body, as I apparently did before.

Searching the internet, I found a store in east LA that sold some jewelry that I thought would be to his taste. I was going after a box with five rings and three necklaces, which looked like they were made for Luke.

If I could, I would advance the time, just to give the gift soon. I just want to see his face and hope he likes it the way I think it will.

I walk past reception, waving goodbye to the poor receptionist who still seemed tangled up with the phones. Interns.

"Marnie?" I turn around when I hear my name. The man in the dress shirt, who had just passed me, approaches smiling.

“Yes?” I look at him confused.

“Of course, you don't remember. Sorry! I'm John, 5sos’ tour manager. How are you?”

“Oh! I'm great, thanks.” I soften my posture. Being Luke's girlfriend, I must have seen John a thousand times.

"It was quite a scare. I'm relieved you're okay.” I smile gratefully at the concern. "Would you have a minute for us to talk?"

Luke pov.

I lean against the car, waiting for Marnie to get out. I take a deep breath, trying not to let the anxiety get the better of me. We've practically spent the weekend together, we're getting closer, she's letting her guard down with every second we spend together, letting me fight to win her back, and yet here I am, shaking like a stick, as if it was the first time we went out together.

"Pathetic!" I say to myself, not accepting being like this.

We dated for two years, it's not like she was a stranger. I know her better than she does. I already know everything she likes, how she's going to react to every move I make and even then, I'm terrified of doing something wrong.

When I realized I was falling in love again with every detail of her, I didn't think that insecurity would come back with it. In fact, I thought it would be better than the first time, that I would be more confident and secure. But it’s Marnie I'm talking about, she eliminates any security and logic in me.

I twirl the little ring through my fingers, noticing how cold and sweaty my hand was. Yes, that human being not five feet tall, can mess with me.

I hear the door unlock, prompting me to put the ring away quickly. Marnie steps in front of me, walking around with open arms. I give her the dumbest smile.

“So? Am I OK?” she stretches out her Friends of Friends hoddie proudly.

"You look spectacular." I sigh, feeling my heart race.

"Not really, it was a little old thing that was in the back of my closet." she laughs, sounding like her mother last week. I blink a few times, trying to disguise the stupid face I must be making.

“You really look fantastic.” I say before holding her body against mine. I sink my nose into her neck, taking in all of her scent, letting into my bloodstream, fueling the butterflies in my stomach, along with the touch of her skin against mine, even with the clothes between us.

I ease my grip, releasing her, but her body remains pinned to mine and she pulls me back, squeezing me tighter. The action takes me by surprise. Not that I didn't want to hold her, I could live the rest of my life here, in her arms. But that indicated something was wrong.

“Is it everything OK?” I whisper, overcome with worry. Marnie just nods, affirming, or rather lying to me. She's not fine.

Her body pulls away and I see a sad glint in her eyes. My body tenses, seeing that fake smile take her lips, unlike the one she gave just minutes ago. My face hardens, realizing she was acting.

“Marnie…” I start my speech to say that she could tell me anything, but she interrupts me.

“We're late, we need to go. Let's go!” she dodges around me, heading for the car door.

I sigh, seeing that I won't be able to get anything out of her today. As far as I know, she doesn't want to spoil the night and will hold it off until the end. I hate when she does that. Keep everything to herself, without the slightest need, we can share the problem and even the pain, that's what a couple does, they support each other.

We left the building, taking the expressway to get there faster. Marnie babbles about her excitement to see the band play live. Normally, I love to hear and see her talk too much. Seeing her eyes flashing rapidly, her tongue getting tangled up in some difficult word, or seeing her start to laugh before she can get the funny part out. Her clumsy hands, moving quickly until she managed to drop something.

But now, I can only move my head automatically, still with my mind on her bad performance from before. Until this morning everything was fine, she was excited and happy. Until minutes ago she was happy. But now it's just a facade covering something I can't quite make out what it is.

She didn't argue with Leah, because the gossip didn't get through to me, and I'm sure Noah would have let me know by now, so we can set the process for the two of them to make up. I didn't see anything on the internet that could have messed with her. Unless something happened during the photo shoot.

"Luke?" I look quickly at her, who was looking at me amused. “Are you OK?” now she was the one asking.

“Yeah! Sorry, I daydreamed a bit. Thinking about everything I need to do getting there. What did you say?” I try to push my worry away, focusing solely on her, which is what I cared about.

"I asked if you're going to play my song?" my cheeks heat up. She knows?

"What song?" I question carefully.

“The one made for me, Amnesia.” I stop at the light, staring at her mischievous smile. This one is not fake.

"You didn't make that joke." I say disappointed. Marnie laughs beside me. “I refuse to accept that you made such a horrible joke. Marnie, you were not like that.” I shake my head.

“It was good, you can't deny it.” she pulls my hand into her lap. I freeze from the movement, feeling my skin tingle.

“It was terrible and it insults me somehow. I taught you wonderful jokes.” her fake, forced laugh catches my attention as I accelerate.

"I hear your jokes are horrible." I look quickly at her, who's sitting sideways, her head leaning back against the bench. Shit, she is so beautiful.

“This is a huge lie.” her laugh fills the car again.

The mood gets better the rest of the way. I still have my mind hammering at that moment, but I leave it for later, as she probably would. We entered through the back of the Troubadour, meeting everyone in the hallway and dressing room.

I hold her hand, pulling her close to me as we walk into the crowd. As I expected, M&Ms become the center of everything, everyone wants to say hello to her and see if she really was okay. I leave her for a few seconds in everyone's company, pulling Ashton and Leah aside.

"Do you guys know if something happened to Marnie?" They deny it. "Didn't you discuss?"

“No! In fact, I'm missing it.” Leah turns her face away, watching M&Ms laugh among the crowd. “What there was?” she looks at me again. I resume the scene for the two of them.

“She was fine when she left the record company.” Ash reinforces my thinking.

"I didn't know anything about today's photo shoot." Leah adds. "You don't think Stephen might have shown up again, do you? Or even that bitch? Bethany?” I shake my head.

Stephen had to be really, really dumb to show up to Marnie after she said she knew everything. And Bethany never tried to talk to her after what happened, I doubt she would try now.

“I'm sure she doesn't want to say anything yet so as not to spoil the night, we know how she is.” Leah rolls her eyes, she also hates such an attitude. “But later on, she might tell what happened and right away it will be with one of the three of us.”

"If she says anything later, I'll talk to you." Hastings warns.

I thank the brunette, who quickly rejoins Marnie. I watch her extend her still-in-a-cast arm for them to sign in the few empty spaces.

I quickly prepare for the show so I can stay with her for a few more seconds before taking the stage. I position myself behind her, who was sitting on the arm of the sofa, letting her body lean against mine. I watch for her hand moving up to her shoulder, placing it under mine. I drop a kiss to her pink hair, watching her lean her head back further, looking up at me with a beautiful smile.

Shit, I'm so in love with her.

Minutes after a lot of mess, we got ready for the stage. Marnie comes to me before running to their place. I adjust the guitar, opening my arms to her, who comes bouncing.

"How much have you had to drink?" I ask, laughing, looking at her rosy cheeks.

“Just a little.” It hangs around my neck. “I promise not to pick a fight with anyone." she laughs.

“Thanks! I feel more relaxed.”

“Good show!” she wish me, stealing a kiss like I did earlier.

Marnie escapes my arms like sand, running to the door and running away hand in hand with Leah. I rub my face hard, not accepting how she can move me so much.

I approach the guys, doing our circle like every time we go on stage.

The lights blind me for a few seconds and soon I can see that sea of ​​people ecstatic to see us there. Ashton takes the lead, thanking everyone in advance for their presence and explaining why we're there.

I position myself at the microphone, ready to start singing Youngblood. Before I give the cue, I look upstairs, seeing her cotton candy hair watching me with a mixture of admiration and sadness. I blink at her, who smiles lightly and without strength. I play the chord, trying to focus my attention on the show and the new song I'm going to sing for her next, but all that goes around my head is: What's going on, Marnie?

OMG! Luke's new music video, am I right?

[ally-writes-many-things]

I don't date Cops (J. Halstead) P2

Summary: Will is trying to convince you to go on a date with his brother which you didn't want to do until you spent some time with him without knowing he was Will's brother.

Words: 1224

Requested: yes/no

Prompts:

Warning or A/N:

"Set it up or give him my number,"

Will stops dead in his tracks and looked at you. "What?"

You rolled your eyes. "You heard me,"

"But you said-"

"I know what I said. Just do it,"

"Alright, I'll set it up,"

"Thank you,"

---

It had been two days since you met Jay and told Will to set it up but you haven't heard from Will or Jay so you were thinking that Jay wasn't interesting. Which didnt bother you.

You saw Will walk in hand in hand with Natalie. You looked at them confused, last time you checked, they were on the outs. "CFD Plan 2. Mass cass,"

"Dr. Y/L/N and Dr. Halstead, I need you. Trauma three,"

You quickly put your gloves on as the paramedics came into the E.D. "What do we have?"

"12-year-old male, crush injuries, severed artery, massive blood loss. Got a tourniquet on his right leg. Tried to intubate but couldn't get his jaw open. He lost his pulse on the ride,"

" Put him on our monitor and rapid transfuser. Grab 4 units of O-neg, and start with a round of Epi,"

The paramedics looked at you. "Already hit him with the Epi times two,

"Still no pulse. He's in fib,"

You did the best you could to save his life but you just couldnt save him. "Time of death 8:31,"

You heard a heart shattering scream, you turn your head and what you could guess it was his parents. "THATS MY SON!"

Will patted the dad on the shoulder. "Im so sorry, he was to far gone for us to save. We tried of everything,"

You walked out the room, throwing your gloves in the trash. But quickly putting clean ones on. "Where do you need me Maggie?"

"Trauma 2,"

You walked into the room and this time it was a little girl. You looked at the paramedics. "Left AC, obvious femur fracture,"

"Good distal pulse. It's blown. Sweetheart, we're going to take good care of you,"

The little girl cried out for her dad. "You have to go back for my daddy! I love my daddy!"

You looked at Maggie. "You know anything about that?"

"Pretty sure her father was loaded. Must've been sent to Sinai or County,"

You nodded and looked back at the little girl. "Okay, sweetie, look, you see this lady right here?"

"Uh-huh,"

"Her name is Maggie. She can find anybody, anywhere, okay? I promise she'll find your daddy for you,"

"Better believe I will, hon,"

-

"It was only an hour and a half,"

You were looking at the bloody E.D when Maggie walked up to you. "What?"

"It was only an hour and a half,"

"We mustve treated two dozen patients and youre telling me it was only an hour and a half?"

She nodded.

You were just exhuasted beyond anything you ever felt before. You felt as if you could sleep for months. "So what exactly happened?"

Maggie shrugged. "From what I was told some asshole purposely caused a multi car pile up,"

"What? Why?"

Maggie shrugged. "I don't know,"

"Dang this place is a mess,"

You turned around and saw Jay walking through the E.D. "Yeah, its been a long hour and a half. Im guessing you're here to question the victims?"

Jay shook his head. "No, we already got the suspect in custody, my boss is still questioning him though,"

"Oh, I'll page your brother then,"

"Not here for him either. Here for you,"

"Me? Why?"

"Why didn't you tell me that you were the girl Will was trying to set me up with?"

"I didn't even know you were Will's brother and then when I found out, he got slammed and I didn't see you after that,"

Jay was quiet for a second. "So how about that date?"

"Yes,"

"I wouldve said tonight but after seeing the E.D, how about tomorrow?"

"I'd like that,"

Jay smiled. "I'll see you then,"

Jay said his goodbyes to Maggie and then walked out. "Good choice, that is one fine man,"

You chucked and went to check up on a patient.

--

"Let me get that for you,"

Jay went to your side and pulled the chair out for you and then pushed you in. "What a gentleman,"

"I try,"

"So Will tells me that you were in the milltary?"

"Yeah, I was in the Rangers. Saw some messed up things there and lost some good friends but I wouldn't change anything if I had a choice to go back,"

"Is that why you joined the police force?"

"Yeah, after I got out, I still felt like I didnt do enough to help people, so I joined the Academy. A few years later, I got shot in my arm working undercover and I got to choice if i wanted to stay where I was or go to a new elite unit and I chose the elite unit,"

"Thats sounds cool but also like it hurt,"

Jay laughed. "Yeah it did. But your turn, what made you go into medicine?"

You sighed. "My dad died when I was younger and we were in the hospital probably over 50 times from the time I was 10 to 11 and saw how hard they tried to save my dad. I also saw a lot of doctors working their magic and save a lot of people's lives. I couldn't save my dad because I didn't know how to and so I decided that I would help others by learning medicine and becoming a doctor,"

"Oh I'm sorry for your lost. What did he die of?"

"A rare disease that only 1% of the population gets so they had no cure or no idea how to treat it,"

"Oh I'm so sorry,"

"It was a long time ago. He wouldn't want me to be sad over it,"

You and Jay had spent the next 2 hours talking about everything big and small. He was now walking to you to your door. "Im resisting the urge to kiss you right now,"

You looked at Jay. "Don't resist it,"

He smiled and kissed you.

----

"I swear Jay, if I had to keep looking for more clues, Im gonna-"

You cut yourself off. You were leaving a voicemail on Jay's phone because today was your one year anniversary and he decided to make a scavenger hunt of all your past dates and things memorable to your relationship. It was cute at first but this hunt had like fifty parts to it. You just wanted to kiss and hug your boyfriend at this time.

You put your phone down and smiled. There was Jay in the middle of a beautifully lit clearing on one knee. You walked up to him and he started. "Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, Ive known you were the one since the first day I met you. You are the only person that makes me feel like I can breathe in this crazy world. Youre the first thing I think of when I wake up and youre the last thing I think of when I go to sleep. You're everything. Will you do me a favor and accept my last name and marry me?"

You nodded yes, not trusting your voice. Jay slides the ring on your finger.

[into-the-daniverse]

and just in case i’m allowed to ask twice: 34 for Jamil and Valerius 🥺🥺🥺?

Doing this one first because you know why~

50 Types of Kisses prompts

34. Kisses that start on their fingers and run up their arm, eventually ending on their lips.

In the late hours of the night (or early hours of the morning, depending on how you looked at it) Jamil lay in bed with Valerius, as he often did lately. It felt strange, yet not at the same time. In the days, weeks, months following everything with Lucio, and Alec, and the Arcana—that Jamil couldn’t still quite wrap his head around—the two of them had started spending more time together. 

It hadn’t taken long for them to end up sleeping together again, relearning everything they had forgotten over the years apart. 

He shifted in the bed, propping himself on one arm to look over Valerius. Holding his hand in his, he brought it to his mouth, and started to kiss his fingertips, his knuckles, his palm, his wrist. 

“Jamil.” 

He took in the red blooming across Valerius’s cheeks and gave him an innocent smile. “Do you want me to stop?” Even as he asked that, he kept moving further up his arm, trailing light, tickling kisses to the inside of his elbow.

Valerius’s voice sounded strained when he replied, but he didn’t pull away. “No.”

So Jamil continued. He traced the familiar path up smooth skin, mapping each inch with his lips, years of memories flooding back as he saw himself doing the same motions when they were much younger. When neither of them had known the true weight of the world on their shoulders, or how it would inevitably change them.

He rested his teeth against the curve of Valerius’s shoulder, biting gently, just enough to pull a soft moan from the body beneath him. Then he kissed the spot and moved on again, slowly up his neck, feeling him shiver.

The visions continued, and he saw the first time he kissed him, both of them awkward limbs and unsure, sneaking kisses in old libraries, hungry for knowledge they couldn’t just read about. He saw the first time they kissed after years apart, confessing feelings neither understood, completely, before the world pulled them apart again. He saw them as they had been a few moments ago, lamenting the lost time, but making up for it in other ways. As he pressed one last kiss to the corner of Valerius’s mouth, he imagined them in the same way, but older, healing and growing together.

“I love you, Val,” he whispered, as he finally brought their lips together. He felt the other man’s sharp intake of breath, but before he could think twice about his words, fingers laced behind his head, through his hair, keeping them pressed together. It wasn’t the first time he had admitted it, though it was the first time it ever felt so heavy on his tongue, so precious.

When Jamil had to pull back to breathe, he caught tears glistening in his lover’s eyes. 

“Still?” Valerius wouldn’t look directly at him, those pale gold eyes flickering around his face. “After... everything?”

Everything. Such an open concept, but Jamil knew what he meant. After what he’d done, how he acted, the things he said. After the time they spent apart, growing in opposite directions. The universe tugging them away, sometimes hard enough to hurt, hard enough to scar.

“Yeah,” Jamil replied, “after everything.” And he kissed him again, shifting in the bed so he could deepen the kiss. As they started to move together again, Valerius’s grip tightening in his hair, Jamil paused, and, ignoring his desperate gasp, sat up. He normally wouldn’t press, but he had to know: “Do you still love me?”

The answer came more quickly than he expected. 

“Yes.”

Their next kiss tasted salty, but Jamil wasn’t sure whose fault that was. Not that he minded, as his hand found Valrerius’s again, pressing their palms together over his head. He wanted to taste it forever.

[darkmindsotome]

Losing The Lot

Fandom: Love365 Masquerade Kiss  

Pairing: Kazuomi Shido x MC

Word count: 4,043

Warning: NSFW Smut

Written by: darkmindsotome

Tagging @voltage-vixen​ as requested. Prompt #7: Strip poker

Darkmindsotome Masterlist

---

Losing The Lot

My laptop beeped ending the latest transmission from the EAC. I closed the device and slid it under the seat of the car that was currently winding its way through crosstown traffic in the rain to take me back to my apartment after successfully completing my latest mission.

I closed my eyes and rolled my neck, sinking into the cushioning of the backseat. I didn’t typically find all missions exhausting but being a spy was both physically and mentally demanding. I watched the streetlights blur against the rain on the window, happy to finally be able to relax.

My mind wandered wishing for nothing more than to sink into a hot bath and then curl up on the sofa with a big tub of Lady Borden ice cream and binge on Mission Impossible films. My phone vibrated next to me and when I saw the caller my heart jumped.

“Welcome back.” A voice I had missed hearing for the last few days spoke before I had even placed the phone near my ear properly.

“I won’t ask how you found out I was back in the country again.” I smiled. Despite how exasperated my words sounded I was seriously happy to hear the voice of the man I loved.

“Can’t a guy take an interest in his Girlfriend these days? Did you get me a souvenir?” Kazuomi sounded like an excited child. His energy and upbeat attitude brushed away the tension in my body.

“You wanted a souvenir? Kazuomi I was on a mission, not a vacation.” I playfully chastised him knowing full well any kind of reprimand from me would go unanswered as it usually did.

“So you didn’t get me anything at all?” I could practically see his pouting face even over the phone.

My wonderfully mischievous guy who worked harder than he showed to anyone. A man who was at the top of official lists as one of the world’s most wanted bad guys. Who was labelled a playboy the world over and covered in multiple gossip columns constantly never showed this kind of vulnerability to others. He was far from pristine white, his actions were always a little shady but I trusted him. I felt a warmth bloom in my chest as I thought about it.

“I didn’t say that.” I laughed our conversation was coming to an end as my car had stopped at the curb of my apartment and I knew I would lose reception for a few minutes as I entered the building. “I’ll bring it over to your place tomorrow.”

The door to the car opened and instead of seeing the driver, I saw my boyfriend.

“Why not just give it to me now?” He had a look on his face like he had just pulled off the biggest prank of his life and the smile could have made my knees buckle had I not already been sitting.

He was outlined by the lights behind him that were casting a shimmering aura over him. As if he needed to be painted in a sexier manner. This guy was a walking advert for sexual desires and just oozed appeal. A natural charmer I really would not be surprised to discover his friend's claims that celestial beings had fallen under his spell.

“What are you doing here!?”

“Is that any way to greet your man? Although I have to say you look good even when pulling that face.” He winked at me his brown hair was caught at the moment between lightly damp and becoming unstyled by the rain. A few droplets of water fell from the tips of it and ran down his neck finding the open collar of his shirt and vanishing beneath it.

“You!” I gave him a light slap as I got out of the car pretending not to notice that I was jealous of a raindrop. My eyes fell on a familiar vehicle and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “I can’t believe you showed up in the limo.”

“I never go anywhere without it.” He shrugged as if this sort of thing was normal for everyone. If there was one thing he enjoyed it was opulence and dammit if he hadn’t provided a good show of it to the point where very little was able to still shock me. He bent over and grabbed my suitcase from inside the car, tapping the roof after he shut the door sending it on its way. “Come on let’s get inside before we both drown.”

He grabbed my wrist with his free hand pulling me towards my building. The warmth of his grip where his skin touched mine had me willingly follow him in a trance. I really was a hopeless case.

*

The door unlocked with a click that was lost against the sound of the downpour of water. We both walked in and Kazuomi put the suitcase he had pilfered from the car next to the kitchen counter. I closed the front door behind us only to find myself wrapped up in a pair of strong arms and my damp bare neck claimed in a rush of fiery kisses.

“Mhm, Kazuomi…” I purred as he chased away the chill on my body from the rain with his lips. I loved his kisses, I’d never met someone who kissed like him before.

“No one says my name like you do.” He returned my purr with one. Even as his lips travelled over my skin his hands began pawing and kneading at me through my damp clothes. The cold fabric clung to the flushed flesh under it. “How long are you planning on keeping me waiting?”

“Waiting? On what?” While is still had enough of my senses to talk back I did. This was our little game that fuelled the fire in both of us. An endless game of cat and mouse where neither of us was willing to simply give in.

“My souvenir of course.” He buried his head in the crook of my neck before drawing back to capture my ear lobe lightly between his teeth, giving it a gentle tug. “But if you don’t have one… I guess I could claim you instead.”

Before he could latch on to me and make it impossible for me to move I spun around in his arms and placed a finger on his lips enjoying his reaction as he wondered what I was doing.

“As tempting as that is I do have something for you.”  I made sure to rub myself just a little against him as I pushed him back. There was no way I was going to make getting things all his way that easy for him, I never did.

“Oh?”

I moved past him and clipped open the suitcase searching for the gift I’d found for him. A rectangular box slipped out from under some of my clothes and I picked it up suddenly feeling a little nervous about giving the third richest guy in the world something so pathetic.

“I didn’t see anything that really got my attention but I found these and thought you would probably like them.”

“A deck of cards?” Kazuomi didn’t display any of the elitist reactions I imagined. Instead, he looks seriously amused and happy with his souvenir.

“Their special cards, here see?” I keep forgetting this guy can be so incredibly down to earth it naturally makes me smile as I pluck the box from his hands and crack it open to remove one of the cards.

After rubbing the image on the card the figure that was once dressed in fanciful clothes and opulent robes revealed more and more skin. The idea was the longer you played with the cards the more of their secrets the heat from your hands uncovered. I thought that concept alone was so incredibly Kazuomi I just had to get him a deck.

“Impressive.” His eyes light up at the new discovery reminding me of a kid watching a magic show for the first time.

“You like them?”

“My beloved brought me a gift of course I love them.” He held the cards in his hand and dragged me back to him with the other. It was such a smooth and fast movement I could feel my insides jolting at it. He bent down to whisper in my ear. “You really are a naughty girl though. To think you would get me a gift like this. I hope you’re ready for a game.”

His voice was intoxicating, neither of us moved our eyes remaining locked as the heat between us ignited our competitive natures.

*

The clean apartment had become a mess in a matter of a couple of hours. Items of clothing were dotted around like breadcrumbs trailing a path to us as we sat either end of my white corner sofa playing Texas hold ‘em.

After scrambling around in drawers and cupboards looking for something we could use in place of betting chips we found a bag of candy and split it 50/50.

Several hands later, most of the clothes on the floor were mine. I had played several card games in the past and I was confident enough to say I could put up a good fight. It was, however, just my luck that my charming boyfriend also had a reputation for never losing. This fun, kinky game was rapidly becoming my waterloo.

I was now left with only my shirt and underwear while Kazuomi was only missing his jacket and waistcoat. His brown eyes were paying way more attention to me than his own cards. It was really distracting and I kept fidgeting in place, willing my mind to focus on the cards and not the impossibly attractive man in front of me. How was he even winning when he wasn’t even paying attention anyway?

“You look like you have something to say.” He was still smirking after watching me lose my skirt. I made sure to stay out of his reach as I disrobed but that didn’t stop him from making some suggestively sexy gestures of his own like licking his lips and slicking back his damp hair from his face. I don’t know if it was the time we spent apart or what but he looked so different right now, my heart started to pound so hard I could feel it.

“What makes you think that?” I shrugged trying to hide how hot I was getting while I shuffled the cards.

“You are giving me the most adorable glare. I just love it when your little miss perfect mask slips off.” He had crawled towards me over the sofa on all fours like a prowling lion. It would only have taken a small pounce to have me trapped under him, an idea I can’t say I minded at all but the game was not over yet.

“Just deal the cards.” I shoved the shuffled deck towards him and watched as he calmly rolled back into his original seat accepting them.

“As my Lady commands.”

Competitive spirit reignited we returned to our little game. It is probably about this time that a normal person may consider the fact that this was not going well and forfeit. As a certain hardened gambler playing me so often remarked though part of the fun in a game was never knowing how things were going to turn out until the very end.

I think at this point from the heated stares and the way in which we were responding to each other’s every move there was no question where this was going to end. It only remained to be seen who was going to come out on top?

After checking my hand, I was a little relieved to see some good cards, King and ten of diamonds. The smiling face of the girl dressed in the increasingly dishevelled robes of the King looked back at me. I know I got these cards for Kazuomi as a kind of novelty gift but honestly even I’m a little turned on looking at them. 

Kazuomi didn’t exactly have the unreadable poker face I had seen at Masquerade when playing cards there with other people. It was not deadpan but it may as well have been for all the hints it was giving away.

He was smiling serenely. Every now and then he brought his hand out to take a drink from the table, pulling it back, brushing lightly over his own thigh drawing my attention to the growing bulge in his lap. It was subtle enough that he could still claim he had no idea what I was referring to should I bring it up.

I was more than familiar with his little teases at this point and refused to acknowledge it, my eyes returning to the game as the next cards flopped onto the cushion between us after we each threw in some ‘chips’ to bet. I was looking at more diamonds Queen, eight and four.

This should be easy I was holding a great hand so far. I nearly smiled imagining that I might get him to remove some more clothes. To hide it I instead licked my lips and rubbed my thighs together adjusting myself in the seat. When did I get this wet? Embarrassment suddenly hit me and I could feel the heat rising from my core to colour my face.

“Call.” He announced his move and I could hear a little strain in his voice.

Glancing over I could see the same anguish of forced restraint that I was feeling. I nodded not trusting my voice currently to not blow my cover and reached out to turn the fourth card. Three, another diamond. I could feel my body unconsciously relax a little after seeing the new card.

There was only really one card that could beat me now, I end up putting half my chips in the pot and he calls again. I look over at him, his wolfish grin had grown and dammit if he didn’t look like the very definition of lust in a dictionary.

Eight of clubs fell on the river. This changed things a little there could be the chance he may have three of a kind here I decided to play it a little safe and just make a small bet.

“Call.”

Again? Seriously? I ran some very quick calculations that honestly made very little difference to the commitment I had as to how to play my hand.

“King high flush” I flipped over my cards smiling as I called it out. I felt the rush of anticipation coursing through me. There was a very low chance I was going to lose, 2% in fact. 

“Nice! Very good hand.” Kazuomi nodded still smiling.

“Thank you.”

“Not quite good enough though. Ace high… flush.” As he flipped his cards over I couldn’t take my eyes off them and the defeat it dealt me.

“Wha-? No way how many times is that you’ve won?” I pouted far from ready to give up on the game between us it was like a new fire had been lit. I had been so close that time.

“I haven’t been counting. I would say I’ve at least won enough to enjoy a good show.” His eyes had turned predatory as he provoked me.

“Well, I suppose I should continue the performance then.” I raised myself to my knees, remaining on the sofa.

Walking my fingers up the front of my shirt and slowly unbuttoned it. My eyes never left him as I let the fabric glide downwards before dropping to the floor. I felt a new rush of excitement that had nothing to do with a card game. His predatory look and that smile on his face had morphed for a fraction of a second revealing how he was also struggling to keep himself in check.

“I would be more than happy to call it here if you don’t want to continue.” I decided to push a few buttons. It isn’t very often I got to see him this close to the edge after all.

“Oh? Are you admitting defeat?” The crack in his mask sealed shut behind a reinforced veneer.

“Never, I’m in this till the end.” My firm denial brought back his smile.

“Then it’s a race to the finish. I’ll warn you now I won’t hold back.” Kazuomi’s voice issued his warning like a devilish promise sending a shiver straight up my spine. His curved lips had me thinking of his kisses and how badly I craved for them to be covering me right now.

“That makes two of us.”

The next game started and it felt like a slow torture. I had Ace of clubs and a King of diamonds, another decent hand. Luck seemed to be at least interested in keeping these matches between us close.

I bet and he calls. Ace and three of clubs falls on the flop with the Ace of diamonds. It looks like I could be in with more than a slim chance here. I tap my hand to signal a check. He bets and I raise then he does something he hasn’t done all night.

“All in” His bet throws me for a loop.

I check my cards again quickly wondering what could actually beat them. Pair of aces or deuces… that made two hands that could trump mine. There was still a higher chance of me being ahead right now.

Looking up at my boyfriend who was still as unreadable as before, I found him enjoying watching me waver on this last game. If he loses after calling 'all in' that was it. I would not only have won the hand but he would have to strip completely. My crushing defeat could become a momentous victory in the blink of an eye. 95% chance.

“Call.”

After making my bet the cards move again, the five of diamonds appears on the turn. Victory was so close I could almost feel it.

“Check”

“Check” Our call was in unison and you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.

Everything was dependant on this last card. The chances of failure were slim and then it hit. Queen of clubs fell on the river. My hands tremble a little as I turn over my hand.

“Ace King, that gives me three of a kind.”

“Jack five,” Kazuomi's words sounded muffled in my ears as I looked at the cards he held. My eyes blew wide at the hand he hit back with. Of all the low blows to be given tonight. “Flush, I win.”

“Jack and Five of clubs? No way!”

“It was just a lucky hand.” He chuckled seeing how animated I was.

“That is more than lucky that’s unbelievable! Why the hell did you play that?” I wasn’t trying to be a sore loser. I just couldn’t believe he kept that hand going through the game until he got lucky on the river.

“I’m a great believer in being in it to win it and this was the last game of the night. I figured if I was going to lose I should make it memorable.” He shrugged the grin on his face turned into a shit-eating smirk. The look was unashamedly seductive it should have been illegal.

“Loose? You didn’t though you totally destroyed me!” I huffed scooping up the cards and candy from the sofa and putting them on the coffee table with an artless thud.

“I’ll happily hear your complaints in bed. Right now I’m claiming my winnings.” He took my petulant act of clearing the sofa as an invitation not waiting for my reply.

In his impatience he threw me back on the sofa, climbing on top of me silencing any protests I might have by kissing me ferociously. Our bodies became a tangle of limbs, stroking and grabbing at each other. This was more our MO. Passionate, wild neither of us willing to let the other win even now. The spy and the ex target, Kazuomi and me.

It was a no-holds-barred battle between equals. I found myself wondering if we would ever reach a point where we weren’t playing these games. If he would become the focus of one of my missions in the future placing us right back at the starting point. So many ideas and concerns, worries for another time. Right now I was more than happy to just focus on the man I loved.

My hands travelled over him pulling his shirt free of his trousers and snaking up under the fabric. His taut muscles flexed under my touch as he moved unperturbed locating my weak spots. He trailed kisses from my ear to my collarbone and tried to go lower only to be yanked back up as my hand gripped tight on his belt preventing him.

“Have I ever told you that I love how unpredictable you are?” He kissed me hard, his tongue twisting against mine in a way that had me breathless as it brushed over the roof of my mouth.

“Have I ever told you that you talk too much?” I somehow managed to backtalk him. His hands traced the edge of my bra, releasing the clip at the same time as I unbuckled his belt. My hand slipped down grasping his hardened length he had been flaunting throughout the game. His hips bucked pushing it into my palm as he groaned. “Mmm god, I missed you.”

“Missed you too.” He kissed me quickly before pulling back long enough to pull his shirt over his head, the buttons were apparently too much effort to bother with. “You have some time off now right?”

“Mhm, until the next mission at least.” I nodded and pumped my hand a little. The lust in his eyes had turned them nearly black, I bit my lip.

“So there’s not a problem in me keeping you up all night then.” His hand plunged into the thin fabric of my panties. The pad of his thumb brushed over the bundle of nerves as he slipped his fingers deeper inside.

“Ah! …. Kazuomi” I cried out my body writhing under his touch. I wanted more, I wanted him.

“Yeah?”

“I L-” My words, the ones I never said outside of the bedroom were cut off with a growl from him.

His teeth sunk into the flesh of my bottom lip leaving it feeling deliciously sore. I felt his hands move to shove the waistbands of his boxers and trousers free of his hips. The removal of the restricting clothing had his arousal standing to attention pressing into my inner thigh. My body clenched around the fingers buried inside me.   

“How much more were you planning on making me fall for you? Careful with all that cute stuff it kills me.” Kazuomi removed his fingers, my body naturally chased his desperation taking over wanting to reclaim the friction it had lost.

The sound of fabric tearing should have concerned me but I was past the point of caring about a destroyed set of lingerie. He pushed into me slowly I didn’t think I could have gotten any hotter but as I was forced to stretch around him I felt like I was being filled with liquid magma. Sweat was prickling on my skin and I willed my eyes to remain open. I wanted to see him.

Our heavy breathing, pants, moans and cries rang out. Each of us taking turns to tantalise and tease while our bodies rocked harder and harder together. My vision sparked white as an orgasm claimed me. Kazuomi helped me ride it out against him before joining me in my euphoria and falling flat on top of me. Our bodies were still joined together, muscles twitching and the sweat running freely combining our scents in the air. My heart was hammering in my chest, my pulse throbbing in my head in the aftermath of the wave that had washed over me.

I reached up to run my fingers through my man’s soft brown hair knowing him to be a man of his word and looking forward to the rest of our night as we pushed each other to the brink, jumping together into paradise. I was finally home.

---

[raleighcarrera]

7 & 21 for Kayden and Juliet :)) (if you can! <3)

7. “i see you’ve started without me.” 21. “get on your knees.”

50 NSFW starters

heavy footfalls paused just a few steps into the room; though her eyes were closed, juliet heard the door shut forcefully and a sharp intake of breath that, combined with the familiar sound of boots on the stone floor, she’d know anywhere.

her wrist didn’t falter from where she had her fingers pressed between her legs, drawing frantic circles through her center. the amusement in kayden’s voice made her eyes blink open slowly. “i see you’ve started without me.”

like that was her fault.

dinner had been an agonizingly slow affair, made worse by the torturous presence of kayden’s hand on her leg beneath the table and his thumb drawing slow circles on the inside of her knee, over the heavy fabric of her gown.

their guests couldn’t have left the estate soon enough. from the moment the door shut behind the very last one of them -- annelisa, of course, smirking at her from over her shoulder as she wiggled her fingers in a mocking wave goodbye -- juliet had been trying to herd kayden upstairs to the bedroom.

but he had found reason after reason to delay retiring to bed. he insisted on helping the staff clean up, on double-checking the locks on the door and, finally, on doing something in the study and waving her off to meet her upstairs when he’d finished.

almost as though he’d expected to find her like this, two fingers deep between her legs, the angle nor the pressure exactly right because her body was accustomed to kayden. 

“i couldn’t wait any longer,” she answered honestly, her voice wavering. “you weren’t being fair.”

kayden’s hum echoed through the empty room as he considered her. juliet felt her bottom lip jut out and was certain she appeared perfectly pathetic, shivering on the bed. for a moment, it felt as though she barely even dared to breathe, but then kayden said, “perhaps you’re right,” and she relaxed, melting back into the bed.

he stepped closer slowly, kicking out of his shoes as he went. anticipation swirled low in her stomach and her movements faltered under the heavy weight of kayden’s gaze, which roved up and down her body with an unrestrained hunger. 

she stared up at him, entranced as he licked his lips, pausing at the side of the bed and resting a hand on the mattress -- so close to touching her but refusing, still. “i hope you weren’t planning on finishing before i got here.”

juliet shook her head rapidly, squirming on the bed. “no,” she promised, “i want you to help. i wouldn’t...”

her voice trailed off as kayden’s knee pressed into the mattress so he could lean over her. she shifted to accommodate him, welcoming his body on top of hers and moaning as soon as their lips touched, kayden’s warm mouth claiming hers in a possessive kiss, sparking a new round of shivers through her body.

his clothes scraped against her skin when he pressed his body against hers where she was bare on their bed, and juliet groaned again, more loudly this time, reaching up with her free hand to cup kayden’s jaw and keep him close, kissing him as enthusiastically as possible.

kayden’s fingers stroked her cheek when he pulled away, their foreheads tipped together so that they shared the same breaths. “what do you want me to do, lady juliet?”

“touch me,” she implored, wriggling beneath him. her efforts were proven worthwhile when, a minute later, kayden wedged his own arm between their bodies, closing his fingers around her wrist and pulling her hand away. 

his fingers replaced hers and the difference was immediate. the sound he made when kayden pressed the pad of his thumb to the spot where she was the most sensitive made her hips jerk roughly, a small, answering noise of encouragement tumbling from her lips unbidden.

“i see you’re desperate for it,” he noted, the tone of his voice even -- almost conversational. “aren’t you?”

“please, kayden,” she begged, clutching his arm tightly as though to punctuate her point, “faster, please --”

her words dissolved into another moan as he obliged, and though it felt like she’d waited so long for this the relief she had, now, was impossible to contain. messy gasps and rough exhales and whispered breaths of kayden’s name continued to fill the bedroom, until her moans of delight were too loud to be contained by only the four walls surrounding them -- surely, anyone else at the estate who was still awake knew exactly what they were up to.

“like that?” kayden asked, when he absolutely already knew the answer to his question based on the way her body was responding, something he brought out of her effortlessly, often with little more than a few gentle caresses, “is that what you like, juliet?”

“yes,” she groaned, “yes, yes, yes, kayden, please.”

“go on,” he encouraged, voice still soft in comparison to her wicked trembling, his free hand gently holding her cheek, pushing her hair out of her eyes, “show me how much you like it, juliet. let me see.”

her whole body went taut as if commanded, and whether or not this was an extension of kayden’s magic or just something uniquely him and how much she adored him, she’d never know. fireworks exploded behind her eyelids, her vision swimming with stars as the pleasure swelled and burst, wracking her body with shivers as her hips twisted under his hand. 

it never took much, when kayden was the one touching her. her body always responded to his ministrations as if beyond her own control, the confidence of his movements triggering a reaction within her she was helpless to stop.

when she finally felt calm enough to open her eyes again, she was met with the sight of kayden hastily stripping out of his clothes, as quickly as possible while she struggled to sit up. “let me,” she pleaded, her voice scratchy from the sound she’d made.

he stilled, and she crawled forward to help him out of his tunic, tossing the fabric to the floor. as always, the sight of his bare chest made her breath catch, and she paused in the middle of undressing him to lean in close and capture his mouth in another soft kiss, arching her back to press their bare bodies together.

“kayden,” she murmured, in between each press of their lips, “i want... to please you.”

he pulled back just enough that she could see how dark his eyes were. the slight upward curve of his wet mouth meant he felt she didn’t quite know what she was in for. his hand pet sweetly at the hair at the back of her head, and then the pressure increased as his grip tightened slightly. “get on your knees.”

her body folded obligingly on the bed, shifting back to make room for him. kayden stretched out languidly, though his hand waved before she could find purchase and she felt her arms fly behind her back, binding together under some invisible force and widening her eyes in surprise.

juliet scrambled to stay balanced on her knees, struggling a little just to test the limits of his magic. predictably, it held, and the force that pressed back in to hold her arms still made another delicious spark of heat slip down her spine.

one of kayden’s hands worked the fastenings at the front of his pants while the other settled in her hair, pulling her closer. her eyes fixated on the sure movements of his fingers as she let herself be moved, and as soon as the front of his pants was open she leaned in, mouthing along his fingers where he was still pulling his cock out for her.

kayden’s low laugh felt as though it was exhaled directly into her ear, even as he sat stretched out above her. “eager, juliet?”

but she was. this had been on her mind through a dinner that felt so long it was unbearable, through a day of preparation leading up to it.

since the last time they’d had the chance to do this, even, something that felt an agonizing number of days away even though it was only just the night before.

she nodded her head enthusiastically, closing her lips around his length before he could decide she needed permission. kayden made a sound that felt like it was forced from his lips, and she leaned over him to get closer, tilting into the guide of his fingers tangled in her hair to keep steady, slowly inching her way down.

usually she had her hands to help her along, but she’d never been one to shy away from a challenge -- especially not one set by kayden.

her eyes fluttered shut as her cheeks hollowed, and juliet lost herself in the sweet melody of kayden groaning above her as she slowly swallowed around him, slipping down more and more until there was no where left to go and the groan he gave made her face feel hot. 

“juliet,” kayden sighed from above her, his grip on her hair tightening deliciously before relaxing, his thumb dragging over the skin on her forehead to soothe it. “just like that, darling.”

her head bobbed slowly, at first, dipping up and down and building up a rhythm, her lips working him over with a practiced ease. though this had been far from her favorite thing to do with other partners, there was something about kayden that made her relish the act of using her mouth on him. he always got more wild when she couldn’t speak, was always more free with his praise and his touches and his control diminished to something that was almost gone completely, prompting her to savor every moment she spent folded onto her knees between his legs.

“that’s it,” kayden praised, as he used the hand in her hair to gently tilt her head back so his hips could slowly press forward, taking control of their movements to chase his own pleasure, “you’re so good for me, juliet. so perfect.”

she did her best to relax as he pushed forward, squeezing her eyes shut until she felt the bindings on her wrist tighten and blinked them open, her eyes finding kayden’s in time with his hand brushing over her cheek again so he could run his thumb along her jaw.

kayden held her gaze as his hips thrust forward once, twice and then stilled, emptying inside of her with a low moan of her name. 

he continued to brush his fingers through her hair softly while she caught her breath, the magic holding her wrists back slowly receding until she could move again and shuffle closer to kayden with a sigh. juliet climbed into his lap as soon as she was able to, and kayden’s strong arms wrapped around her perfectly, holding her close.

“worth the wait?” he questioned softly, after kissing her so thoroughly her progress on getting her breathing regulated was set back to the start. 

the smile on his face was soft, the expression in his eyes adoring. there was no amount of time she wouldn’t wait to be alone with him, no evening spent together that could ever be enough to satisfy her.

even if he always insisted on making things difficult for her, on wearing her patience so thin it snapped near-immediately. 

they both knew how much she liked to be tested. and kayden delivered every time, without her even having to ask for it. he understood her perfectly -- and that marked him as the first. no one else had ever seen so much of her before.

“of course,” she murmured, gently brushing the tip of her nose against his just to see kayden’s eyes crinkle at the corners, “you always are.”

[illshowyourhurricanes]

Castles Made of Sand

All credit goes to Jimi Hendrix for this borrowed title. After way too much time (thanks to our good friend Writer’s Block and hating the first route I took with this which lead to a complete rewrite), I am finally getting back to finishing up my last two remaining requests for my milestone event. This one was requested by @something-tofightfor, who chose image 5 for Benjamin Greene x reader. In lieu of going to the actual beach, stay inside, social distance, and imagine yourself there with this sugarplum instead. I hope you enjoy!

Image prompt 5: Benjamin Greene x reader

Rating: R solely because B. Greene is one sexy mofo. If you haven’t watched Gold Digger, there are spoilers you’ll come across in this one.

Word count: 2889.

Tag list: @obscurilicious @the-blind-assassin-12 @something-tofightfor @logan-deloss @lexxierave @madamrogers @yannii04 @gollyderek @carlaangel86 @maydayfigment @vetseras @thisisparadisemylove @malionnes @thesandbeneathmytoes @my-rosegold-soul @delos-destinations @luminex3 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @tenhargreeves @witchygagirl @fific7 @pheedraws

If you’d like to be added to/removed from my tag list, please just send me an ask or shoot me a DM.

Special thanks to @the-blind-assassin-12 for beta reading!

Once again, enjoy and thank you for reading!

Benjamin’s mouth had embarked on a journey. He’d made his way down the straight line of the back of your neck, and now was tirelessly pressing light kisses down the column of your spine. The heat of his breath was a sharp contrast to the air conditioning in the room, and he was sending literal shivers up your spine. Your eyes had fallen shut when he’d started on your neck, his long fingers threading through your hair. 

“You taste like saltwater and sunshine,” he stopped just long enough to murmur into your ear. He’d changed direction, rerouting and taking a detour up toward your other shoulder. Gathering your hair to sweep it out of his way, he ran a palm over your skin, brushing off several grains of sand that had been stuck there, reticent to let go. I understand completely, he thought to himself, a shadow of a smile curving his lips as they landed on you once again: one soft feather of a kiss followed by his mouth closing over a spot at the base of your neck, gently swiping his tongue over a patch of skin, tasting saltwater again before sucking gently, his intention to leave a mark clear.

You hummed softly, appreciatively, and grinned lazily as you opened your eyes. Benjamin hadn’t been excited about your idea for a weekend at the beach; he’d actually been a bit tight-lipped any time you’d mentioned it, which was strange-- you found that Benjamin was usually forthcoming about most things, with just a short list of exceptions: his childhood, his brother Kieran, and his ex-wife Julia. 

“I never knew you had hard feelings toward the beach,” you’d joked with him good-naturedly. You’d purposely avoided the topic for three entire days, and Benjamin had finally breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that maybe you’d given up your idea of a weekend away. I’d love a weekend holiday, just one that doesn’t include sand, he’d thought to himself, every time you’d made the suggestion. But Benjamin knew it had not so much to do with sand at all. It had everything to do with Kent. 

He did everything he could to avoid returning to the area. He’d done everything possible to leave his childhood and years in Kent behind, to start a new life, and he’d succeeded in doing so. But when Benjamin thought about the place, his heart dropped and his pulse raced at the same time. He felt like the former version of himself, the name Sean White haunting him, circling over his head like a vulture. It was always there. Benjamin was, down to his bare bones, a taller version of the boy with the name he could never escape— the boy who had spent time behind bars, who had nothing, who spent the most desolate and miserable years of a life he’d love to forget—in Kent. 

                                         ***          ***         ***

“We used to spend half of the summer on the beach,” you had continued, your voice light with excitement, words spilling from your mouth quicker than usual. “We’d deviate here and there, but we spent most of our beach days in Broadstairs. Joss Bay. Just as beautiful as Botany, but without so many tourists.”

Benjamin had just watched and listened, expressionless. He wasn’t the type to keep at reading, his usual task at hand, while someone was speaking, whatever the topic… even if it was highly irritating. 

But you, well, you just laughed, getting to your knees and knee-stepping the rest of the way to where he was sitting, a high-backed and slightly-distressed armchair. The end table and lamp were perfectly-suited for his academic pursuits and cerebral hobbies. 

Benjamin’s eyes followed your movement, unable to help a small, wary shadow of a smile appear, vanishing as suddenly as it had come on. You were there then, your forearms resting atop his knees and looking up at him with wide doe-eyes, unconscious of just how beautiful you always looked from his view. 

You had only met three months ago in an otherwise empty corridor at university, but things had gone swimmingly between the pair of you. Benjamin was well aware, and quite often, that he was falling for you, hard and fast and much too much all at once.  He knew that if he wanted your relationship to progress much father— I do, I want her, I want to need her out of love, not from dependency—he’d have to tell you everything; the absolute truth. I want this, with her: the antithesis of what I thought I had with Julia. 

That thought, each time it invaded his mind, caused his heart to pound irregularly, his surroundings to tilt before his eyes. Perhaps he needed you already.

He heard the music of your laughter, the quick glossy look in his eyes vanishing within a split-second. Her smile could illuminate entire cities. 

“I know,” you continued with a slight wrinkle of your little nose, “That it’s quite popular, and the waves are rather choppy, but the sand is still white and the view…” you trailed off, shaking your head slowly as a warmth of nostalgia flooded your senses. 

You were still enamoured by the beach, as you always had been— the horseshoe shape of the coast, the white chalk cliffs, the carefree atmosphere and the smell of the saltwater. Your times there at Botany Bay in Broadstairs were some of your favorites, hands sticky with ice pops melting too quickly, briefly staining the sand. 

“What do you say, B? I’ll find a nice place to say, we’ll spend a long weekend in Kent. It’s lovely there, you—“

Benjamin spoke your name softly, but there was a strange firmness to his tone. Never one to interrupt, you were a bit caught off-guard. As he removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose, you lowered yourself down to your haunches, allowing your arms to fall from his knees to your sides. You’d seen Benjamin tired. You’d seen him dejected, frustrated over a paper or two that he’d gotten stuck writing, but this… this was something different. And perhaps you were being a bit sensitive, but your feelings were a bit hurt. 

To top things off, you didn’t know how to react to an emotion you’d never seen before from the man you’d been seeing for just three months. Operating on instinct, you just nodded— though you were thoroughly confused— and stood, offering him a soft apology as you went to your small kitchen to put the kettle on. 

Just as you placed the kettle on the stove to heat, Benjamin appeared in the doorway. You forced a smile, hoping it was convincing enough to pass. “Chamomile or lemon balm?” you asked. He took a few long strides and pulled out a chair, sitting at the table, and bit at his bottom lip. 

“Chamomile… There’s.. I’ve…” Benjamin scrubbed his hands over his face in irritation. His nerves were getting to him. Anxiety was thieving his words. “I can’t go to Kent, Y/N.”

You turned to lean against the countertop. Crossing your arms over your chest as you furrowed your brow, it was obvious you were concerned. Benjamin had grown up in Newenden, a small port village immediately north of the River Rother, as an only child. You searched his face and saw tension in the set of his jaw. The rise and fall of his chest seemed almost labored, and when he looked at you, you were startled by the look of pain in his eyes. 

“My childhood.. it wasn’t like yours.” His voice sounded thick. “My mum was not an attentive mother. All of her care was concentrated on landing her next fix, and Kieran and I—“ He stopped short and shook his head, staring down at the table, tracing a knot in the wood with his index finger. “My… brother.” He struggled with the word, his jaw flexing. 

Your eyes widened and you opened your mouth to speak, but all that spilled forth was silence. He’s lied to me. You felt your chest seize and it was like his words stole your breath from your lungs. Your heart thrummed erratically. He’s been lying to me.

“Older brother.” Benjamin continued, and his voice became unsteady as he went on. “Kieran had no father figure and mine was… fucking useless.” Upper lip curved in contempt, his nostrils flared in anger as the kettle began its shrill whistling. Quickly, though you felt as if you were in a haze, you darted to the side to quiet the sound, wondering how long you could keep your hands busy preparing two cups of tea. 

“When my mum died, Kieran did everything in his power to make everything normal, to watch over the two of us. We had no money and no place to go.  Just 50 quid, mate, to get us through the month. He already had a plan on how to get the money… ‘Just stand and keep watch, alright? Just keep watch.’” 

Benjamin was unaware, but he was sneering-- his jaw clenched, brows knotted, his mouth set in straight line. But the part that was most jarring was the wildness in his eyes. Benjamin, what have you done? Your hands shook as you brought tea to the table, and you wondered for a moment when you’d managed to steep the tea bags. You had no recollection. Benjamin’s words were ricocheting in your head. You felt angry for being lied to, betrayed. You felt a dull ache in your chest for Benjamin and all that he’d been through. You felt a heavy guilt for unknowingly being so inconsiderate in badgering him about a beach trip. You felt like the foundation of your relationship had been cracked irreparably, like the fault lines in dry earth from an earthquake.  Setting one steaming cup of tea in front of Benjamin, you sank into a hard kitchen chair across from him.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “So I stood there, and I stood there… and I heard something and then… there was all this blood…” 

Benjamin’s voice was shaking and as you looked up at him, you saw that his face was wet with tears, droplets falling from his cheeks and onto the table. He swallowed hard. “I took the blame, Y/N. I took the blame and I paid for it and he… he let me.”

“Oh, Benjamin.” You rose from the seat you’d just taken and walked to stand in front of him. You could see the agony in his eyes; there was no way anyone could fake that. “Benjamin, I’m sorry.” Tentatively you sat on his knee, and he shook his head.

“I should’ve told you, I planned to. When’s the right time to--”

You interrupted him by wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your cheek atop the crown of his head. Your anger melted away and the only thing you wanted to do was take it away. It was impossible, you knew, so you’d have to settle for offering comfort. For being there. 

“There isn’t,” you said, frowning into his hair. You softly ran your nails over the back of his neck and the two of you sat in silence for a moment. Closing your eyes, you turned to press your lips to his head before pulling away to look down at him. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words would come out. They were stuck someplace between your heart and your throat.

“As soon as I could,” he continued, blinking tears away, “I left. I got out of Kent, and I made a new life for myself, changed my name, got a job, and an ex-wife.” Benjamin attempted to smile, but the corners of his mouth just twitched instead, and no light reached his eyes. “Shawn White follows me every step of every day and I can’t go back. I can’t.”

“I don’t know a Shawn White.” Just saying the name felt strange on your tongue, and you vowed to never speak it again. “I know Benjamin Greene. I know that he helps strange women carry loads of sketchbooks to her office.” You smiled softly, the memory of how you’d met a vivid memory in your mind. “I know that he’s a diligent student, and smart, and is a great copywriter.” Pausing, you kissed his forehead. “I know his favorite foods, the type of music he likes, that he’s funny and attentive.” Finally, you caught his eyes, a touch of sadness and sour regret still there. “I know that I care about him immensely.”

Benjamin had taken to lightly running both hands up and down your back, one on either side of your spine. He couldn’t believe your reaction, or lack thereof. There was no accusation. There was no venom in your tone, no indication that you didn’t believe him. He had confessed to you that his life was a lie, and there you were, beautiful on his lap, reassuring him of all that he was. And when you kissed him then, there was no bitter aftertaste of pity. And when Benjamin smiled afterward, it was genuine, and it reached his eyes. She’s unbelievable.

                                              ***          ***         ***

“You’re so pale. B,” you’d teased, all in good fun. “C’mere.”

You slathered Benjamin in sunscreen— SPF 45,  to be exact. He’d helped you with the hard-to-reach places of your own, his warm palms and long fingers working the lotion over your skin. 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather spending our time in the air conditioning?” he joked, voice low in your ear. One last time, he rubbed one hand over either shoulder and leaned forward to kiss your temple. Despite the heat, you felt goosebumps popping up In gentle pricks. 

“Are you trying to make me forget about my mission? Because it’s working.” You turnED your head, narrowing your eyes playfully at Benjamin before turning your attention to the array of sandcastles littering the beach. Most of them looked more like sculpted sand dunes or ant hills more than anything else, but there were some valiant efforts all the same. Your mission was to thwart them all. 

“Really, I desperately want to impress you with my architectural skills,” you kidded. . Reaching to your right, you swiped the tote bag you’d brought down with you and pulled out a bright red, plastic sand pail. It held two smaller sand molds inside and a small, yellow shovel hung  from the bucket’s handle. You beamed triumphantly. Benjamin threw his head back in laughter. 

“What?!” Your voice dripped with feigned indignence, but his laughter was absolutely contagious. A giggle bubbled forth from your throat before it turned into full-blown laughter. “These are fully functional multipurpose tools!” You defended the vividly colorful kids’ toys as you unloaded the smaller molds from the pail. 

“You are utterly bonkers,” Benjamin said decidedly as he slid his sunglasses downward to shield his eyes. He leaned back on his readily-spread beach towel, leaning back on his elbows with his long  legs stretched out in front of him. 

And you are a vision, Benjamin Greene. The rest of Botany Bay— the horseshoe shape of the coast in the distance, the sapphire blue water sparkling brilliantly in the sunlight, the clean, whit expanse of sand and the picaresque pillars of chalk in your periphery— they all paled in comparison. You loved Benjamin irrevocably. 

And he felt the same way, you reminded him. “You love me, especially the utterly bonkers part,” you chided, setting your building supplies to the side. Joining him on your own beach towel, you rest your chin in your hand, propped up on your side to look down at him. You couldn’t help but press a kiss to his lips, your tongue teasing his bottom lip before pulling away. 

“Remind me again what I am?” you teased. Your eyebrows were raised in question and your mouth quirked upward in a smirk. 

Benjamin groaned in response, dropping his upper body down into his towel unceremoniously. 

“Brilliant at baiting,” he answered, rolling his head toward you. He was smiling, and your heart danced in your chest. Here you were, with Benjamin Greene in Kent, and of his own accord. You’d be returning to work soon, and he’d planned an end-of-summer beach vacation, at the very one you’d mentioned all that time ago. He’d remembered. And he was happy. 

You sat up with a burst of energy. Sliding in your own sunglasses, you readjusted the messy bun you wore atop your head. It was time to get down to business. “Now, are you going to help me build our castle before the tide rolls in?” You paused and turned your head to glance at him over your shoulder. “I can offer a promise of air conditioning as an incentive.”

Suddenly invigorated, Benjamin pushed himself up to sit as well, nudging your shoulder with his own. “Move over, Y/L/N,” he said, reaching past your legs for the lemon- yellow shovel. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

[laisaxrem]

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Naruto Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Gaara/Rock Lee Characters: Rock Lee, Gaara Additional Tags: 50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts, Prompt 30 - Weak sweaty kisses because it’s unbearably hot

Summary:  An anomalous heat wave hit Suna, making the lives of shinobi and civilians almost unbearable. For Lee and Gaara they were also very hard days. But, as they say, a kiss can fix many things.

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It was hot.

After nearly three and a half years in Suna, Lee believed he had gotten used to the sweltering heat of the Wind Country summers. Yet that year he seemed to be constantly in an oven. Day and night the hot desert air covered the Village like a thermal blanket. It was like being under a kotatsu at any moment of the day.

Everyone’s life had changed in the past few weeks. Non-essential missions had been postponed and guard shifts on the walls had been shortened, especially during the day. Civilians tended to stay indoors as much as possible and many shops only opened for a few hours; lessons at the Academy had all been suspended and it was forbidden to go out during the hottest hours except in an emergency. The water, which was already normally used sparingly, had been rationed because it was not clear how long the high atmospheric pressure wave would last and no one wanted to take the risk of finding themselves without the primary good par excellence.

Lee had even had to change his training routine, reducing the number of exercises and running laps because a few days earlier he had had sunstroke and the iryō-nin had released him from the hospital only by making him promise to spend less time outside. Lee would have worried about his own fitness had it not been that Gaara and Suna’s other shinobis also seemed to find those anomalous temperatures strenuous to bear.

The only place where the air did not seem like boiling ash was inside the houses; in particular, the Kazekage residence seemed to enjoy a little coolness which was a lifesaver after days and days of unbearable heat.

That morning Lee woke up in Gaara’s bed, both completely naked, the sheets damp with sweat twisted around their feet. The night before they had thrown themselves into bed, barely exchanging a quick kiss; even just thinking about making love had been exhausting. In fact, it was days that they barely touched each other, their bodies tired out by the days of work and training and by the almost sleepless nights spent tossing and turning in the hope that that damned heat would subside a bit.

Lee terribly missed contact with his boyfriend.

Slowly, almost painfully, Lee raised his arm (and for a moment it felt like he had to go through a curtain of jelly, how much the air was hot) and with his fingers he gently touched Gaara’s cheek. His smooth skin was covered with a veil of sweat but he did not withdraw his hand and rather continued that light exploration, covering every inch of the skin of that face he loved.

Suddenly Gaara’s eyes opened and Lee found himself drowning in a sea of green water.

«Good morning», he greeted him with a smile, stopping the movement of his fingers but without taking his hand away.

«What were you doing?»

«I wanted to feel you», Lee explained, slowly resuming touching his face, cautiously this time.

It wasn’t that Lee feared Gaara; not at all. But the Kazekage had had a difficult childhood and for many years the concept of love had been alien to him. Not to mention that throughout the first part of his life every person who had approached him had done so to try to kill him. Reaching the degree of intimacy they were now at had been difficult and at times risky and Lee often felt insecure, as if he were walking on eggs, afraid of hurting Gaara’s feelings.

And yet in the years of their relationship Lee had discovered that Gaara, contrary to appearances, was an extremely sensual man. And when Lee saw a light in Gaara’s eyes and felt his lips open under his fingers, he understood that Gaara was in that mood.

«Then feel me», Gaara said in a whisper.

And Lee blushed tremendously.

In an instant he leaned forward and brushed his lips against Gaara’s, once, twice, a thousand times; each time the kiss was shorter, each time their warm breath seemed to make the air even more unbreathable. Lee could feel the drops of sweat beading on his face and chest, but Gaara’s words had lit a fire in him that was even more unbearable than the heat. After what seemed like an eternity, as by mutual agreement, that storm of kisses stopped and stood staring at each other, red faces, shortness of breath.

Then Gaara’s hand went to intertwine his sweat-damp hair and the Kazekage used that grip to reverse their positions and steal another kiss, short and wet and breathless.

«Feel me more», he then commanded.

And Lee obeyed.