#if she didn’t know the absolute MONTHS OF AGONY i went through just to be able to stand long enough to do normal activities like cooking

[fingertipsmp3]

I swear to god everything from the weather to my equipment to my neighbours to my own fucking body is conspiring to make sure I don’t get a good run this week

[diejager]

Hello there! I absolutely love your stepdad!konig piece!!

I actually comment this on ao3, but I also doing it here just in case 🥺

Reader is pregnant and horangi step up as father but what if the baby looks just like konig? Her mom will be suspicious? Konig will be overjoyed? Horangi will try to breed her as soon as possible?

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, stepcest, forced pregnancy, childbirth, implied kidnapping, gaslighting, tell me if I missed any.

There was a heavy amount of guilt in your heart when your twins were born, they stark difference between your boy who had pretty brown eyes and a smooth head, and your little girl’s gaping blue eyes, pale and blinking owlishly with small tears and a few black strands sprouting from her head. You feared what your mother would say when she saw that your sweet angel - Horangi had dubbed her Yoon-Suh - had neither yours, nor the Korean’s eyes. It made you wonder if this would be a sign for your mother, something to prove your fear and abuse, to open her eyes to your damned situation, but they had an excuse for everything.

“Eyes are a complicated thing, ” König had the doctor explain, facing your mother with a wrinkled, but kind and gentle expression, “She’ll outgrow them within the first year, Ma’am.”

Your mother seemed to trust the doctor’s words, you would as well if you hadn’t known the truth, he was a kind man who’s face looked so disarming. Your mother exclaimed her many fears of complications happening to you and Dr. Mathews was very patient with her growing worry, promising her that he’d be one call away.

“Call me whenever you have any complications, missy. Or one of the nurses, all right?” 

You were driven home after every check ups with the twins and your body to catch any issues that might’ve occurred through childbirth, dressed in loose clothes and coddled by both men while your mother stared on in awe and glee, seeing her husband help his step-daughter with her new children and the baby daddy took responsibility and stayed. It made her feel a sense of happiness and pride unlike you, who drowned under another wave of agony and sorrow. They, however much you loved your babies and their adorable faces, would tie you down to both men, stuck under the nose of your oblivious mother.

When Yoon-Sun’s eyes only grew paler, a shade between emerald and tourmaline, a beautiful mix if it didn’t remind you of König’s oppressive character. Your mother shared her confusion, questioning her husband about the clear ressemblancein Yoon-Suh and his eyes, but he shrugged it off, reminding her that it had only been two months and change was inevitable, whichever spectrum it went, it would eventually darken into a familiar shade. She nodded and hadn’t questioned your stepdad about her eyes anymore, somewhat satisfied with his answer.

And when Leon’s hair started growing, the few dark strands that seemed black until it curled into a soft auburn that your mother was extremely familiar with. What could they use as an excuse for Leon’s hair colour to appease your mother’s suspicion, to staunch her questioning. Unfortunately - fortunately for them and their wretched minds - your mother was never one to know any… complicated information, such studies weren’t in her education in her time, but it was in yours. You knew how basic genes worked and it wouldn’t make sense for your child to have the hair colour that neither parents had, recessive or dominant.

Yet, König and Horangi had managed to convince her otherwise without as much as a sweat, their words and experience convincing enough for her. She left it at then, but her suspicion was mounting, the wound bleeding and threatening to come to life. And before she could do anything, to stop them from feeling oh so proud of themselves, they took you away. You were gone in the night, taken under the watchful gaze of the moon, gagged and tied in the old van they repurposed to hold the twins safely while they drove across borders. 

She’d been gaslighted and naively trusting until the moment she woke up to a cold and vacant home, her husband and friend gone, grandchildren taken and her daughter taken. 

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @lucienbarkbark @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @223princess @maylovesyousomuch @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[iminthetunnels]

i cannot bear the pain. it is an embarrassment. i am a fool. how could i have done this. i wont hold back. i cannot lie. my entire life is filled with pain and regret. i’ve been given a horrible hand. i hate i have to make myself withstand it. i hate i have to be strong and bear the sorrows. i am not a victim. i refuse to make myself wallow in pity. i’ve written it before. i have spoken about how you’d never expect me to have lived the life i did. abused at 3, abused continually through adolescence. my entire childhood, sexualized. the one person, never believing me. my believer and confidant, my one true hero, died in a horrific accident. she was taken too soon. but it’s also gods time. this is probably where i developed chronic vaginal pain and back pain. from being penetrated at 3. i remember this all. i remember the day. i never, ever blocked it out. i had a baby sister shortly after and i remember her birth too. it was normal to me. 3. from then on, just abused myself the way i was abused as a toddler, as a child. went on to be abused by others as well. seek out thrills and “exciting” life of drugs, sex work, partying, addiction, homelessness, eventually loneliness. i pulled myself out of all of this by myself. i picked myself up. i got myself a career. i found what worked for me. i eventually went on to travel more. met someone who i loved endlessly. had their child. turned extremely abusive as the pregnancy began. and what’s cruel is, he comforted me in all my miscarriages. i had a traumatic one, where i saw the sac. it was large and i was 12 weeks along. he helped me tremendously. only to slam my head into a window and break my tooth out. it was a porcelain tooth anyway. still. my tumors and pelvic inflammation from when i was a toddler grew even larger in my uterus and pelvic floor. my entire pregnancy was agony. i even struggled with wanting to get an abortion. but i didn’t really want that. i really wanted my baby. i had dreams of him, and truth be told. i thought id miscarry. even ultrasound i expected the “im so sorry” but i eventually got to end mark. and i wanted this baby so bad i prayed for it. i almost died during labor. preterm laboring for lord knows how long. leaking fluid and my stomach clenching with each contraction. i almost died on the OR table. so did my baby. he suffered loss of oxygen and by the absolute grace of god, he came out only having minimal damage. we are on our way for testing for cerebral palsy. he has seizures, and nystagmus. he’s technically blind and developmentally delayed. but he’s so intelligent. singing to sade at just 2 years old. he’s very musically inclined. he’s a miracle. i saw angels surrounding me on the or table. i saw lights. i felt angels talking to me. nurses laughing at me. i remember so vividly. all i wanted was for my baby’s father to reach out and hold me. what a common theme. just wanting to be held. i had the worst time breastfeeding and horrible panic attacks over formula feeding. don’t care what anyone says about formula. i hated it. i switched to goats milk at 6 months old. and donated breast milk. he never slept, in fact, he was a “colicky” baby. he was angry. looking back, i had no idea he had brain damage. the only thing i noticed immediately were the eyes. the nystagmus. diagnosed retina damaged due to non delayed cord clamping. resulting in the nystagmus. tried fighting a case. completely dismissed because i had no money for a lawyer. no legal backup. the caused so many interventions. pitocin should be illegal to gove to women. induction due to preterm labor should be banned. i’m not even making a harsh claim. against all odds, i feel my child saved my life. my baby is 3. the age i was changing diapers, feeding my sister, abused. i remember it so vividly. i couldn’t imagine this life for my son. he’s so happy and so full of bliss. no matter what. i pray to god we make it thru. no evil intentions shall prevail. for the lord has me. i don’t feel scared saying anything. because the lord has me.

i looked at my blog from years ago. when i was a sex worker, when i was trafficked around and raped by several men, they shoved money in my mouth and spit on my face. they tormented me and told me my life was worthless. all for the “kink” i was a sex worker at 15, meeting up with men. men in the military, police men, hospital workers, pediatricians. the worst one was a dentist who paid for my dental pictures and teeth work. it was so insane. he literally went mia one day and could never find him. all these men told me they loved i was underaged. they knew. that’s why they were around me. and even more strange, i would go in public with these people. i would drink, smoke, do all these things in public with no ID, no hope, no anything. it truly makes you wonder how these things can even exist? the world has always been so gray and cruel to me. i know the advantages people in power get. i know the world is ran by filthy, nasty people. men and women. i know i felt like cattle. i knew they knew i was just “waste” i could die and no one would even bat an eye. i was homeless. but to everyone else, i was just a “runaway” i could of seriously been hurt. i don’t even know what happened when i would pass out. even more curiously, i never blacked out. no on alcohol, not on xanax, or mdma, or acid, or mushrooms, or coke. i was always so very aware of what was happening. and i took a lot. just crunching on 5-10 bars 2x a night. what is that? i can only think of it as it is happening in my head right now. what is that? what kind of life is that? i know that when i got older, past 13-16, men loved hearing how damaged i was they got off to it. i took the attention as love. oh these men want to hear me and listen to me. i became a mute at what?? 18. i was institutionalized and drugged at the mental hospitals. i struggled with panic attacks my whole life. different ones too. i feel like im floating talking about this. i’ve never typed it out. i’ve always written it down. i have a son who loves me very much and i love him very much. he is the light in such a dark place

my boyfriend broke up with me because i’m too negative. i had just taken my son to the cancer specialist and eye doctor. i was so overwhelmed with everything. all i wanted was a big hug and kiss. instead. he treated me like an anomaly. he treated me like i was insane. all these men. they look past men. all these men, they only see value in me when i give them my fake little happy faces. what if i told u i loved life. but i’m tormented. i have flashbacks every single day. i am not healed, i am only existing in such a world that i can’t even believe to be real. the only thing in my entire life, that has ever grounded me, that has ever felt real, are the words my son says to me. my son. the only thing that feels real. i feel pain in every fiber of my being. i feel it so deeply. i haven’t slept in days. i cannot eat. i am getting sick, throwing up and shaking. i can tell ive lost weight, in just 2 days? i was happy and eating before. this person gave me such clarity and hope. i thought i had an angel by my side. i thought the world wasn’t as cruel as it is. i thought i found true and honest love. i thought i was to marry him. the way my son would look at him and love him. they way my son grew with this person by them. only to be terrible betrayed. are all men like this. is this how my life is to be. i want only the best for my son. i will be going to school soon and finding a job thru my degree. i hope i make enough. it doesn’t need to be a lot. just enough for my son to be okay and know i did this all for him. because he’s the most important person in the world. i would lose all my color and oxygen to give him it all. he is my rock in this world and nothing will ever change that. i hope and pray no evil intentions prevail. he is the best thing to ever happen to me. he is why i still try. he is the reason. i dreamt about him before i ever had him. voices in my head told me he would protect me and that this is the life. voices in my head tell me i chose this life in particular. i am so glad i did. if it meant i got to meet my beautiful son.

[hoe4sports]

I’ll pull you through it

Ruesha Littlejohn x reader

A/N: Mentions of blood.

You got tackled by Katie fucking McCabe for the 3rd time in less than an hour. Did u mention that you were back in Ireland on the national squads practice? At this pace, you werent sure you were gonna make it till the fifa women’s in Australia next month.

You pushed yourself of the ground again, both of your knees ripped up with your torn shorts. You brushed the dirt from your legs and looked up at Katie. “Katie, I swear to god, one more time and I’ll hurt you!” You screamed at the top of your lungs. You and Katie never got along very well. Especially now that there were rumors of her cheating on your bestfriend with Foord.

You stood there staring while trying to calm down. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears and your heart was pounding. Ruesha then pointed to her nose signaling that your nose was bleeding. You wiped your nose. Low and behold, there was blood. That was the final straw. Even thought Katie were stronger than you, you were faster than Katie. You looked at the blood on your hands, and decided that you were done. You lunged after her as she started running at 90% capacity. You held on right behind her running comfortably. Katie was slacking and you were still feeling frisky. You ran around the field 3 times before you decided that you were done chasing, so on the last round you tackled her right in front of the team cooler. You tucked her arms under you legs and opened up the cooler, pouring pure ice at her. She screamed as she tried to get away, but you just sat there shaking your head. “You absolute ass” you muttered as you tool some ice and shoved it into her shorts and her sports bra as you got up.

We had all played for the under 16’s and 18’s together but for some reason you couldnt stand her. Her attitude was horrible, she was a terrible friend and she was even worse to Ruesha. The numbers of times that you jad picked Ruesha up because Katie had caused a fight or gotten black out drunk was outrageous. You had told Ruesha multiple times to leave Katie, but she just couldn’t.

Later that day, the group were split into teams. White and green. As soon as you saw Katie being put on the green team, you knew that meant trouble. You rolled your eyes as you turned to Ruesha. “She’s ruthless” yiu said as you rubbed my nose, still in agony. A few weeks prior, she took out my jaw and dislocated it in a match between Arsenal and Chelsea. And the little fucker didn’t even get a red card. “Any questions?” The coach said as she threw white vests on us. You raised my hand as you eyed Katie “What are the rules like?” I asked and the coaches shot me a dumb look. “The regular rules, Y/N. Anywa-“ and you cut her off. “Okay, so the only way for Katie to get carded is if she physically kills someone on the field?” You asked sarcastically. The coach rolled her eyes and told us to get ready.

You got into position with Ruesha behind you. By the look of Katie’s horns you knew you were in for a hell of a game. The game went on and after you had been tackled 3 times, pushed 5 times and kicked twice in my non existent acl; you decided that you had gotten enough. You pushed yourself off the ground and looked at Ruesha. “Be nice, bbg” she said with a concern in her voice. “Mmm” you said back with the fakest smile you had ever flashed someone. Now, you weren’t really planning on doing anything until Katie pushed Ruesha face down in an attack. As Katie rushed past you with the ball, you rushed after and shoved her straight into the ground, pretending to miss the ball as you kicked her arm and then caught up with the ball as you passed it on. Her team was screaming for a card while she was laying flat on the ground, but the coach looked at you and screamed “figure it out” know that it would cause more problems than do good.

Truth is, you loved Ruesha first. No really, you actually did. When you were teenagers, you had something going before McBastard came and swept her off her feet. It had been a turbulent relationship between them since day one, yet Ruesha pretended that everything was fine. You knew that Ruesha was suffering, and lately things had taken a turn for the worse with Caitlin Foord joining McBastard’s team Arsenal.

You ended winning 7-4 over the green team and as you came home, you were immediately fast asleep. You woke up 4 hours later with everything aching, “fucking McCabe” yoy mumbled to myself as you tried to find your phone so you could orientate yourself. “22.48” you mumbled and decided you were gonna go back to sleep. A second later you realised that you had 82 missed calls from Ruesha. Yes, eightytwo.

You were about to call back when you heard banging on your door. “Fuckn hell” You mumbled as it sounded like someone were about to rip the door of its hinges. “This better be important be cau-“ and then you got cut off by ruesha sobbing in the pouring rain with a soaked bag next to her. You used a few seconds to access just to make sure you weren’t sleeping. “Ruesh, what on earth is going on” yoy said as you dragged her inside, but she just sobbed and clung to you like cligwrap. Here we go again you thought to yourself.

She showed you her soaked phone as she sobbed, revealing pictures of Katie and Caitlin at a party with the arsenals a few weeks prior. You pulled her in for a hug, and for the first time; you actually felt bad for her. “Okay, I’m getting soaked as well. How about you put on something dry and I’ll find something hot to eat yeh?” You suggested as she sniffled and shuffled with her bag to the bathroom leaving a trail of water. “Jesus” you mumbled as you realised that all her clothes was probably soaked, so you grabbed a sweatshirt, socks and shorts from my own closet. “Hey, is there a chance I cou-“ she yelled from the bathroom as you opened the door. “Could borrow some clothes? Yes” you said as you threw it towards her. She thanked you, and you went to the kitchen. You didn’t really have any proper comforting foods, so you chucked a frozen pizza in the oven.

Later that evening, you found ourselves sitting in your bed while eating and looking out at the busy life outside. It was Friday, so there were tons of people in the streets. Mostly drunks but also random people pacing the street in the dark. “You see the man with the fedora? He thinks he is Mexican because his father is 1/8 Mexican.” You said and Ruesha laughed while you pointed him out. “And you see the muscle bro with the tiny dog? His girlfriend brought it but now he is stuck with it.” Ruesha laughed again as you smiled. “My turn! She pointed out a girl standing in the corner on her phone outside of the bar. “That girl is only at the bar for the pictures and then she’s going home” she joked, and you laughed. You always laughed at her jokes, both bad and good jokes. Anything to see her smile. You couldn’t resist yourself as you pointed out a girl with the same blonde hair as yours with the same light blue eyes. “And she, she has liked her bestfriend since they were teens but her bestfriend dosent know and is dating a human version of an asshole” you finished, and Ruesha laughed so hard that she was crying. You mentally slapped yourself as you had hoped that she would’ve gotten the hint. Oh well, patience is key.

“So, I’m tired and you woke me up mid nap. I’m gonna sleep now, you can do whatever you want as long as you don’t rip a hole in my wall or rearrange my living room.” You hoked as you yawned. You laid down and Ruesha followed after.

“Y/N?”

“Mmm”

“Can I share something”

“Mmmm”

“I think it’s over for real this time.”

“You’ll get through it.”

“And what if I don’t”

“Then I’ll pull you through it.”

You grabbed her hand, and you drifted off to sleep.

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 24: The Twelve Days of Storybrooke

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Rating: G

Word Count: 2285

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32

CS Genre: Neverland Canon Divergence

Notes:  This story was written for @pirateherokillian for the CS Secret Santa event last year.  Emma and Killian find themselves dealing with yet another town crisis—this one with a very Christmassy flavor.

Killian woke with a gasp, taking a moment to let his heart rate return to normal.  It had been a while since he’d had the dream, but when he did he woke absolutely bloody terrified.

Six months ago Emma had won the final battle, and the residents of Storybrooke had begun their happily ever afters.  It had been good, so, so far beyond good since then.  He and Emma had taken a two-week honeymoon on the Jolly.  They’d had no real destination in mind; they’d merely chosen to sail somewhere warm and tropical.  Two weeks of uninterrupted time together had been better than even his fertile imagination could have dreamed up.

When they’d returned home, they’d set up house and then begun the process of deciding just what they would do with the remainder of their lives (besides spending copious amounts of time in bed, of course.  They were newly-weds, after all).  When Dave had decided to pursue his life-long dream of owning a farm, the decision had been simple.  Killian would take the position of Emma’s deputy.  Now he and Swan were partners in everything–life and work.

As he said, life was good.

But the fact that life was now as close to idyllic as it could get didn’t erase the years and years of trauma they had all been through over the past few years, and for the first couple of months, Killian had the same nightmare nearly every night.

They were back there on the streets of Storybrooke, Swan facing Gideon and the final battle about to commence.  He’d known what she was going to do a split second before she did it.  She’d turned back toward him, agony and regret in her eyes.  Before he even had time to scream in horror, she’d dropped her sword, letting Gideon run her through.

It was the only way to truly escape the trap the Black Fairy had set for them.  The strategic part of Killian’s brain knew that to be true.  But his heart, a heart that had lost everyone it had ever loved, rejected the idea.  He couldn’t lose her, his true love, the best part of his very self, his beloved wife.  Not now!  Not ever.

He’d watched as Gideon’s sword made contact, and Swan grunted in pain, falling to the ground.  Her lad went to her, told her he loved her, kissed her.

And nothing happened.

Henry tried True Love’s Kiss again.  Still nothing.

Killian tried, kissing her until his lips were bruised.  She remained still and dead.

He’d lost the most important person he’d ever had in his life, and he was sure the agony really would kill him.

Killian took a deep breath, shaking his head to clear the distressing images from his mind, and then turning onto his side, tears of relief coming into his eyes as his gaze took in the peacefully sleeping form of his wife.

She was here.  She was alive.  She was well.  They’d gotten their happy beginning, and he need never fear the final battle again.

They’d been married long enough for Killian to know waking his sleeping Swan was a rather unwise proposition, but still he leaned over and softly caressed her cheek, pushing aside her tangled hair.  He needed to touch her, needed to reassure himself that it was just a dream; that she was here and that she was well.

She was so beautiful, so vibrant.  He leaned down and kissed her, softly, gently.  She stirred at the touch of his lips to hers, smiling in her sleep and whispering his name.  After a moment, she wrapped her arms around his neck and began kissing him back.

He’d feared she’d be angry at him for waking her, but it seemed she had another form of sweet torture for him instead.  The fire built up inside of him as the kiss continued and Swan’s hands began wandering.  This wasn’t necessarily how he’d planned to begin Christmas Eve morning, but Killian was so very far from complaining.

He’d only just reached for the hem of Emma’s pajama top when her talking phone began blaring “Jingle Bells.”

She groaned, reluctantly pulling her mouth from his.

“Ignore it, Love,” he whispered, kissing down the column of her neck.

“Good plan,” she responded in a far-from-steady voice as she pulled his mouth back to hers.

But the wretch on the other end of the phone seemed quite insistent.  No sooner had the talking phone gone silent than it started up again.

Emma growled, rolling away from him to reach for the phone.  “Sounds like they’re not giving up.  I better see what it is.”

Emma tapped at the screen for a moment, and then barked. “What?”

She listened for a moment before rolling her eyes.  “Just a second, Dad.  Killian’s here too.  Let me put you on speaker.”

A few more taps at the screen and then Dave’s voice came through the speaker.

“Like I said to Emma, Killian, I’m really sorry for the interruption; I know I offered to cover the station so you two could have a couple days off, but we’ve got a bit of a situation here.”

Killian sighed.  They’d had six months of peace.  He supposed it was the best run they could hope for.  “Just what kind of situation?”

“Well,” David said slowly. “I…don’t know exactly how to describe it.  I know it involves lots of birds.”

“Birds?” Emma bit out.  “Dad, you interrupted us because of birds?  Isn’t that more Mom’s department?”

“She doesn’t know what to make of it either.  Besides, some of the birds don’t seem to even speak English.” 

Emma shook her head.  “I kind of hate that a sentence like that almost makes sense to me.  Still, why are you bothering us for birds–no matter what language they speak?”

“It’s not just the birds,” David said. “There are other oddities. Women dancing, people playing instruments, men randomly jumping up and down, cows being milked. Full-grown trees suddenly appearing.  I don’t know what’s going on, but it is truly bizarre, and you know how this town is.  The usual suspects are already starting to freak out.”

“I’m assuming Leroy has begun heralding the news?” Killian said.

David chuckled. “Obviously.”

In the background, Killian could hear the dwarf himself yelling “The bagpipers!  They’re here!”

“Anyway,” David said, “I’ve tried to calm everyone as best I can, but the rumor has already begun circulating that we’re under attack.  I wouldn’t ask it unless I really thought it was necessary, but I really think I need back up.”

Emma sighed again, pushing aside the covers and reaching for her jeans.  “Alright Dad, we’re on our way.”

“Never a dull moment, is there, love?” Killian asked, climbing from his side of the bed….just as the sound of a full on drum line began playing outside their bedroom window.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I think we need to go on the attack!” Leroy shouted from the back of city hall, as the impromptu town hall meeting began.  “This is our town, and we need to defend it!”

Emma rolled her eyes–she’d  been doing that so much already today that she feared she’d go blind.  Just when she thought things in Storybrooke couldn’t get weirder, something like this happened.

As she and Killian had driven into town, she could tell her dad hadn’t been exaggerating.  Everywhere she looked was something else out of place.  Fully grown pear trees, each with a bird perched on one of it’s limbs, blue birds with–if one could believe it–cell phones held to their heads.  Hen’s wearing berets and waving French flags.  Groups of swans performing some sort of synchronized swimming routine in the harbor.  Pairs of turtle doves nestled together, cooing sweet nothings in each other’s ears. Geese lying around in the street.

And that was only the birds.  As they neared the center of town, Emma began noticing the groups of people–people she’d never seen before–behaving in distinctly odd fashion.  There were the maids milking, the men in three-piece suits playing leap-frog with each other and the scantily clad women (shouldn’t they be freezing dressed like that in December?) seductively dancing to the music of a pipe and drum corp.

Right in the center of town, a set of five, huge golden hoops  sat upon the ground.  

(“Stay away from the rings!” she heard someone shout.  “Probably portals to some dystopian hellscape!”)

Regina, as the newly reinstated mayor, had taken control, promptly calling a town meeting and magicing the word out to all the town’s residents.

And so here they were, huddled together in town hall, trying desperately to make sense of…well, anything that was going on today.

Seriously, though.  Couldn’t whatever villain or whatever had done this have at least waited until after Christmas.  Rude.

“Who precisely do you suggest we attack?” Regina asked with a sneer.  “We don’t even know what is going on, let alone who has perpetrated it.”

“I might be able to answer that first question,” Belle said, from her place in the back next to her husband and sleeping newborn. 

“Yeah?” Emma asked.  “What do you think is going on?”

Belle got to her feet and looked over at the assembled town.  “Well, it’s Christmas Eve, and we’re seeing everything from partridges in pear trees to drummers drumming.  Think about it!  Every weird thing going on right now has something to do with one of the gifts from the Christmas song.”

Emma groaned.  Of course.  Of course someone had decided to mess with them by sending the twelve days of Christmas.

“So who do we think’s doing it?” Henry asked.  “Can anyone think of a Christmas related villain that might want to attack us?”

Various suggestions were thrown out there–from Ebenezer Scrooge to the Grinch, to Mr. Potter from It’s a Wonderful Life, but none seemed to quite fit the bill.      

“Well, we aren’t getting anywhere just speculating,” Emma said.  “If there is some kind of psycho Christmas villain going after us, we’ll have to wait until they make another move.  For the time being, it doesn’t seem like any of the birds or….performers…are causing any harm.  I guess just…don’t panic.”

“We’ve defeated much worse than eleven pipers piping!” Snow chirped up in a way-too cheery voice.  “This town will get through it the way we get through everything!  Together!”

The meeting had only just adjourned, when Emma’s cell phone began ringing. She looked down and frowned.  It was a long distance number.  A very long distance number.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Emma curled up on the sofa, bringing her legs up beneath her and leaning into Killian’s open arm.  She chuckled as she brought her mug of cocoa to her lips and glanced over at their huge, brightly decorated Christmas tree.

“Did you see Leroy’s face when that goose suddenly decided to stop lying around and started chasing him through the streets?  I thought he was going to start screaming like a little girl.”

Killian laughed, turning his head to give her a quick kiss on the forehead.  It was one of her favorite things about being with Killian, all of the simple, casual signs of affection.  “I’d pay an entire pouch full of doubloons for a moving picture of that moment.”

Emma laughed again.  “It’s amazing how quickly everyone’s mood shifted, though once we found out we weren’t in fact under attack.  Seems like nothing can dampen the Christmas spirit for long around here this year.”

No sooner had the town hall meeting ended, than Emma got a video call from Arendelle.  “Emma!” Elsa had said as soon as the call connected. “I’m really sorry about this.  I had no idea!”

Emma’s brow furrowed, and she exchanged a mystified look with Killian.  “You’re sorry about what?  I’d really like to chat, but we’ve got a bit of a situation here–like always.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Elsa said.  “Apparently Anna…”

“Did you get it?” came Anna’s perky voice as her excited face popped into frame.  “Did you get our gifts?  I mean, technically, they’re supposed to be for your true love, so maybe I should have given them to Kristoff, but I figured you wouldn’t care, even if Storybrooke isn’t my True Love.  I mean I like Storybrooke, but True Love is kind of a strong term.”

Elsa rolled her eyes.  “What my sister is trying to say is that she–without consulting me–decided to send Storybrooke the twelve days of Christmas, compliments of Arendelle.”

Killian nodded before taking a sip of his own steaming beverage.  “It was rather impressive how quickly and efficiently the town was able to rid the town square of the well meaning, if rather annoying gifts once they were assured that there was nothing nefarious going on.”

“And can you believe how quickly Granny was able to put that town-wide Christmas party together?” Emma asked.

“This town truly is a wonder,” Killian said, draining the last sip of his cocoa before turning his full attention toward his wife, “but I have rather a different idea of how I’d like to celebrate Christmas Eve with my wife than talking about the town.”

“Yeah?” she asked, setting her mug on the end table and turning to face him.  “Care to tell me what that is?”

He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows before shaking his head.  “Oh darling, I don’t plan to tell you.  I plan to show you.”

And he did just that–quite thoroughly, long into the night.

Just before they fell asleep, exhausted and exquisitely sated, Emma heard Leroy’s shout far in the distance.  “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

NEXT CHAPTER->

[leiawritesstories]

I would love some aedion content in the chef rowan series 😁 Does he know that aelin and rowan knew each other before the date? What was he told about the cooking instructor thing—and the sex thing hehe? I need to know!!

 thanks for the prompt!! the short answer is, nothing. The long answer is...

word count: 1,458

warnings: language, 👀👀👀👀👀

Aedion POV: The Blind Date

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

Aedion Ashryver was extremely confident in the latest bet he’d made with his cousin. He’d gone over to her place intending to talk her into going on a blind date with his old friend Rowan Whitethorn, whom he’d met in college, but that plan had very quickly detoured when he walked into her house and started coughing on the smoke that was currently being shoved out the kitchen window. 

Gods. Aelin was chaos in the kitchen. 

It was then that an idea began to form. Why talk her into going on a blind date--something he knew full well she’d had bad experiences with--when he could just make a bet that he was sure to win and get her on the date for sure? 

So, smirking widely, he bet her that she couldn’t learn to cook in a month, and went back home feeling very proud of himself. 

One month later, Aelin texted him telling him to come over for dinner. And don’t even dream about sabotaging my cooking. Shit, would he ever do that? The upstanding, bet-winning Aedion Ashryver? 

Yeah, maybe he would. 

After greeting Aelin, who booted him out of her kitchen with a big smile, he sauntered into the living room and dropped down next to Lysandra, who was settled on Aelin’s couch reading a book. “Didn’t know she invited you, babe.” 

“Someone has to be the impartial judge,” Lys smirked. 

“I’m wounded,” Aedion pouted. 

She snorted. “No, you’re not.” 

He flopped down on the couch and laid his head in her lap. “I have fair fainted away in agony!” 

She put down her book and scoffed, but smoothed a hand through his messy hair. “Poor baby,” she crooned with absolutely no sympathy. 

“Lys,” he groaned, “You’re mean.” 

“I’m honest.” 

“Mean.” 

She rolled her eyes. “You can stop whining and let me read, or I can kick you out to the porch. Your choice?” 

“Such a demanding woman,” Aedion sighed, settling back into his girlfriend’s lap. “All right, I’ll be quiet.” 

Lysandra blew him a kiss and went back to her novel. 

~

A couple of hours later, Aelin stuck her head out of the kitchen and rapped on the doorway. “Dinner is served!” she proclaimed. 

Aedion sat up, grinned devilishly at her, and sniffed the air. “I can’t smell any smoke, Ae. You shove it all out the window?” 

She smacked him with the rubber spatula in her hand. “There wasn’t any smoke, jackass. Sit your ass down and enjoy your dinner.” 

Lys snapped her book closed and snickered, tugging on his hand. “I’m gonna start telling you that, babe.” 

As they sat down at the table, Aedion took an experimental sniff of the air. It smelled...good? No, delicious, actually. He blinked, not having expected his cousin’s cooking to ever smell palatable, much less enticing. Aelin, grinning, plated up the chicken alfredo she’d made and served everyone, then watched as Aedion took a bite. Then another. Then another. 

“Gods,” he groaned. “What kind of damn magic did your instructor teach you?” 

“Everyday Cooking,” Aelin chirped, grinning gleefully. 

Aedion cleaned his entire plate. 

And asked for seconds. 

“All right,” he mumbled as he finished up. “You win, cousin.” 

She got up and bowed elaborately. “That’ll be three hundred, dear cousin.” 

He nearly lost every bit of dinner he’s eaten. “Three hundred?! For cooking lessons?” 

“And you shut it about my hazardousness in the kitchen,” Aelin concluded smugly.  

Aedion grumbled under his breath. Then went silent, realizing that he’d told Rowan that he was definitely going to win this bet, and they’d work out details for the date later. Of course, Rowan had grumbled about it, him not liking Aedion or anyone else meddling in his love life, but he’d told Aedion he was willing to meet his cousin, and Rowan Whitethorn wasn’t a man to back out of a promise. 

Shit. 

How was this going to work? “Um, Ae?” 

She raised a brow at him. “What? You’re flushing, Aeds, is it bad?” 

“Uhh...” He cleared his throat. “I may have told my friend that I was sure to win the bet and I may have begun to work out a time for the date with him.” He pressed his lips together. “Are you still game for a blind date?” 

“Only you, Aeds,” Aelin sighed. Then she shrugged. “He’s one of your friends?” 

“Yeah.” 

“All right. I’m game.” 

“Oh, thank the gods.” Aedion slung his arm around Aelin’s shoulders. “I was never gonna live it down if I had to back out of this.” 

“Wouldn’t have been bad for your inflated ego,” she snickered. 

“Shut up,” he groaned. 

~

A few days later, Aedion met Rowan at the gym for their usual Thursday session. “My cousin said yes to the date.” 

Rowan raised his brows. “I thought she was going out with me if she lost the bet, Ashryver, but you’re implying she was allowed to turn down the date?” 

Aedion flushed. “You’re too damn sharp, Whitethorn.” He stacked weight onto the bar and adjusted it so he could comfortably heft it onto his shoulders. 

“Answer the question, blondie.” Rowan looked knowingly at him in the mirror as he spotted. “I think I’ve got an answer, I just want your confirmation.” 

“Asshole,” Aedion mumbled. “I lost the bet, okay?” 

Rowan smirked. “You really thought she couldn’t learn how to cook, huh?” 

“She’s almost burned down her house like five times,” Aedion grunted. “Forgive me for assuming one month of classes wasn’t gonna counteract that.” 

“Wonder where she took classes,” Rowan mused as he switched spots with Aedion, hefting the bar onto his shoulders. 

“Dunno.” Aedion rolled his eyes. “But she’s not letting me forget the part of our bet where I have to shut up about her kitchen skills, hell no she isn’t.” 

“As she should,” Rowan chuckled. Aedion glared. “Lighten up, blondie, you tease her about everything else, she’s probably just basking in the well-earned right to make you shut your trap.” 

“Don’t call me ‘blondie,’ tattoo boy,” Aedion grumbled. College nicknames died hard, apparently. 

He and Rowan figured out a time for the promised date as they did their gym circuit, Aedion promising to fill his cousin in on the details when he got home. And he did, calling Aelin to tell her what the plan was. She scribbled down the information and thanked him, sounding pleased enough about having a date, even one that her meddlesome cousin organized. 

~

The day after the date, Aedion showed up to the gym a little late and glanced around to see if Rowan was there already, which he usually was, even though it was a weekend. He swore the man wasn’t human for the way he could get up at the crack of dawn almost every day and still work at his restaurant until almost midnight. 

He wasn’t there. 

Aedion waited a few minutes, then shrugged and headed in. Might as well get started while he waited, Rowan was probably just held up by traffic or something. Aedion did his full warmup set before he started to wonder where the hell Rowan was, then gave in and texted him. 

Ten minutes later, he got a middle-finger emoji in response. 

Aedion was typing out a snarky reply when he froze. 

Hell. 

That emoji could only mean one thing. 

One thing that he did not want to think about. 

Stuffing down all the thoughts that raged through his mind at the realization that his old friend had brought his baby cousin home, Aedion finished his workout and drove home, half-dazed. Lysandra was making coffee when he walked in the door, and she looked up at him, her forehead scrunching. 

“You all right, babe?” 

Wordlessly, he just shook his head. 

She left the coffeepot and went to him, cupping her hands around his face. “Talk to me, babe. I’m getting worried.” 

“I honestly don’t really want to talk about it,” he mumbled. 

She raised a brow. “Wrong answer.” 

“Fuck, babe, I don’t want to even think about Rowan not showing up to the gym because Aelin stayed over!” 

Her brows shot up. “What?!” 

“Rowan wasn’t at the gym,” he repeated. “Texted him and he sent me the middle finger. There’s...uhh, there’s probably only one reason for that--”

“Aelin and Rowan,” Lysandra breathed, a huge grin spreading across her face. “Oh my god!”

“Babe,” Aedion whined, “you’re supposed to be on my side!”

She patted his cheek, absolutely unsympathetic. “Not when my best friend finally found a guy she likes.” 

“Got me to thank for it,” he muttered. Then it hit him, and he grinned almost as broadly as his girlfriend. “They’ve got me to thank for it!” 

And when they got married, because he knew they were going to get married someday, he was never going to let the two of them forget it. 

~~~

TAGS: 

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@claralady

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@thegreyj

@silentquartz

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hello! It’s Winter! I saw some discussion about Emmanuel’s parents and their divorce.. and then I got this fic idea!

Brigitte paced back and forth across the living room floor waiting for Emmanuel to come home. An emergency phone call from his parents had sent him running to their house just before bed. Brigitte had wanted to go with him, but he politely declined his wife’s offer, explaining that his parents had only summoned him.

As she waited, she thought back to the beginning of her and Emmanuel’s relationship and how difficult his parents had made things for the two of them. The stress they caused their son was something that always remained in the back of Brigitte’s mind. Every day she was grateful that her husband stayed true to his word, refusing to obey his parents when they told him to stay far away from her.

“Chérie! I’m home!” Emmanuel called out to Brigitte as soon as he entered their house.

The moment she saw her husband she knew something was terribly wrong. He looked stressed, almost as though he had been crying. Assuming the absolute worst had taken place at her in-law’s house, Brigitte’s stomach flipped.

“What happened?” She stood frozen in one spot as though a pile of bricks had been strapped to her legs.

“Sit down, honey. I’ll explain everything,” Emmanuel led her to the couch but she refused to follow him. She didn’t want to sit. She needed answers.

“Did your parents talk you out of being with me?” Brigitte vocalized, finally saying the words that had been mixing around in her head.

Emmanuel stared blankly at her, not believing what she had just asked, but understanding why she would say it. “Absolutely not, chérie. Besides, you and I are married. My parents don’t have a say when it comes to you or our marriage. We’re adults who are capable of making our own decisions - whether they agree or not.”

“What happened then?” Brigitte asked, her patience wearing thin.

“My parents are separating.” As soon as Emmanuel dropped the bomb, Brigitte’s jaw hit the floor. Not wanting to overwhelm him with questions, she stayed quiet, tightly hugging her husband instead. Finally, she pulled away so they could continue the conversation.

After allowing herself a few minutes to process the information, Brigitte spoke up, “I’m shocked.”

Emmanuel pulled her onto his lap, “I was too until I had an informative chat with my brother. As we were leaving the house, he told me he wasn’t surprised because all the signs were there. Apparently, for the past few months, their conversations ended in explosive arguments with my dad storming out of the house and not returning for hours at a time. Laurent also told me they’ve been sleeping in separate bedrooms.”

“How are you holding up?” Brigitte asked, wanting to know how he was taking the news.

“I’m fine. I was just thinking about you and me.” Emmanuel confessed. “It’s sad when a marriage ends, but I know that won’t happen to us.”

“How do you know for sure? You sound so certain that we won’t break up.” Brigitte asked.

“Because it’s different between us. My parents never experienced the kind of love we share. I remember a time when I was about 8 years old, and my mother went away for a few days. I asked my father if he missed her, and I’ll never forget what he said. He told me he enjoyed her being away because it gave him some peace in the house. I was too young to understand what he meant, but it was something I never forgot. Fast forward a decade later, I remember the agony I was in when you and I were forced to spend even one day apart. I would count the days, hours, and minutes until I could kiss you again. It was hell being away from you.” As he concluded his story, he wiped Brigitte’s tears with his sleeve. “Why are you crying?”

“Because not every marriage is like ours. Trust me, I’ve been through this before. We are lucky to have found each other. In the beginning, I remember so very clearly wishing every day was Friday. Even now, when you’re away on business trips, I miss you terribly. I sleep in your clothes, I spray your perfume on my pillow, I do everything possible to trick my brain into thinking you are with me. But my heart always knows when you’re not here.” Brigitte confessed. “I don’t feel complete when you’re away.” They fell into a comfortable silence, realizing how special and rare their bond was.

“Brigitte.” She looked up when she heard him utter her name. “Thank you for being my wife.”

“You never have to thank me for marrying you. Being Mrs. Emmanuel Macron has been the greatest privilege of my life.”

Hellooo Winter! ❤️

Aaww the two little sweet lovebirds 🤧🥰

Emmanuel immediately thinking about him and Brigitte when his parents announced the separation... But the beautiful words they say to each other, to express how much they love and miss each other when they are away... oh my heart 🥰

Thank you so much, Winter! ❤️❤️❤️

[nelkenbabe]

WIP: Late Night Counsel

After months of Cullen working on his personal growth, Warden Everett Amell passes through Skyhold. As unbidden memories resurface, Cullen struggles to marry the things he wants with the man he wants to be.

Part of Ivy & Twine content: mentions of Broken Circle, m!Amell x Cullen, hurt/ comfort, friendship jealous, muliti-warden-verse, BPD! Inquisitor

Cullen was pacing up and down the room, from the balcony to the stairway and back, leaving heavy boot tracks in the plush carpet. Amaryll watched him from her bed, back against the railing, knees tucked in and arms placed on top of them.

He’d been walking for minutes now without uttering a word, arms crossed behind his back but leaning forward as if he meant to gain speed. He was upset, it was easy to tell, and she had anticipated some emotional turmoil on his part as soon as Leliana had told her who Warden Brosca’s companion was. She didn’t know which form she thought it would take. Rage, shame, confusion? This was something else.

Eventually, Cullen slowed. And when he came to a halt, he looked at her.

“I went to the tavern. With… with Warden Amell. He’d asked to meet, to talk. I went.”

She held his gaze, searching his face for the question she needed to ask. 

“What did you expect from the conversation?” Amaryll asked cautiously.

He exhaled, low and deep, tilting his chin upward. 

“Some form of resolution, perhaps? Absolution? I was… unkind when he returned to Kinloch, after Warden Brosca saved the Circle. I couldn’t-”

He choked on his words. Ones he thought with such intensity that veins bulged on his temples, but he couldn’t pass them over his lips. His face turned downwards, and he opened his eyes to look at his friend with a pleading desperation. Willing her to understand something he couldn't say out loud.

Amaryll moved her legs to slide forward to the edge of the bed. Careful now.

“Did he try to hurt you?” she asked slowly.

Cullen shook his head.

“Maker, no. We talked. Just… talked. And then after-”

A deep, open-mouthed breath. 

“What happened?” Amaryll asked, keeping her voice soft, low.

“There isn’t- I mean-”

She waited.

“I knew him. Everett. In Kinloch, he was one of my charges. We rarely spoke, maybe just that one time, before he was recruited to the Grey Wardens. But he would look at me, and I would look back, and then one night…”

A pit opened where Amaryll’s stomach should have been. Gooseflesh crawled up her arms and legs as she commanded herself to not show any sign of dread.

“I caught him in the library as I was making rounds. I escorted him back to his assignment, nothing happened. Nothing happened. We spoke, and I didn’t even report him after, even though I should have. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Something about him-”

“What was it?” 

Confusion and deep agony danced in Cullen’s amber eyes, and for an instant, she recognized a part of herself in it. But it couldn’t be.

“After the Circle fell,” Cullen continued, his voice now much less frantic, somewhat dull, “as I was… kept, while my friends were being slaughtered. The demon who held me wore many faces to try and break me. Everett… Everett’s was one of them.”

It couldn’t be.

Amaryll forgot to breathe. 

An understanding overcame her of what it must’ve meant for Cullen to see the Warden’s face here, in Skyhold, where he had been safe. Away from Kinloch Hold, away from Kirkwall, working steadily to improve himself and his fear of mages. Only to be confronted with one of a handful of people who were there when that fear was buried in his core by strangers’ hands.

And understanding of what it must’ve taken Cullen to agree to meet Everett one on one.

But was that all?

She almost asked, almost couldn’t stop herself. What kind of demon was it, Cullen?

The pit inside her grew and threatened to swallow her heart.

“You said he returned to the Circle.”

“To buy lyrium potions and ingredients. I couldn’t look at him.”

He choked again, hesitated, and again there was this expression. Shame?

“I knew he hadn’t been there, knew the demon was not him, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t-”

She hated seeing him like this, rattled to his core. It might not have been fair, but at this moment she also hated Warden Amell for putting him in this state. He couldn't have without hurting Cullen, if not physically, then otherwise.

“I understand. What is it you wanted to do?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I- I wanted to disappear. To never see him again. But now…”

“Did you end up telling him? What you just told me?”

“He knew from Warden Brosca, I believe. He asked me how I was, back then when he came by. I walked away. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise. Struck him down, maybe. Hurt myself. Or tried to… to kill him. Instead I left.”

“And now?”

“We talked,” he repeated. “We talked about everything. The night I walked him back to his quarters. Everything. He said he understood my coldness towards him. Didn’t fault me. He said…”

The words faded out. Too private and delicate to be divulged. But Amaryll knew, felt in her bones that this was why the Commander had beaten against her door in the middle of the night, breathless, chased.

Amaryll waited, waited patiently, though she pressed her fingertips into her thigh as if she meant to crush it.

“He… he kissed me,” Cullen confessed, shrinking in his armor as the weight of the news rolled off of him. “Outside of the tavern. I didn’t resist. He… he propositioned me.”

His voice trailed off. Pink flecks were appearing on Cullen’s neck, crawling up his jowls, his cheeks, his nose. He pressed his gloved hand to his cheek as if to contain the flush where it was.

It couldn’t be. But it was.

The pit had her heart, and now it was moving to her throat.

“You liked him,” Amaryll said, before it could take her tongue as well. That’s why the demon took his face. What kind of demon was it, Cullen? “You still do.”

Cullen moved back one step, then another. Leaned his hip against the chaise, let his hand drop back to the side as the blush subsided.

“I don’t know,” he replied, voice thoughtful, even. “I never considered, not in seriousness… It wouldn’t be… appropriate. Given our history.”

Amaryll breathed. She breathed through her nostrils, keeping her face neutral and her lips firmly shut.

This wasn’t about her. She had no business feeling like something was being torn from her. Another connection capped. Another friend lost. No business having the urge to claw her chest raw and open to let the seething feelings out. As if a friend couldn’t care for more than one person at a time. She knew this. She had always known this. And yet she couldn’t help the slick, visceral fear in her belly. Ugly, ugly woman. Horrible person. A bad friend.

“Warden Amell hasn’t been your charge in over ten years,” she reminded Cullen, softly, gently. If her voice was shaking, he didn’t notice it. “If this were a person from Kirkwall, somebody who had never lived outside of the Circle, then I would caution against it. But he has gone out into the world and made a name for himself outside of Circle restrictions, same as you. However the balance might have been, it is for him to decide if it is different now. And if it really is, if he wants you, and you want him-” Her voice faltered, but only a little. “-then maybe you can allow yourself this. Without guilt. Without shame.” 

She paused as a thought resurfaced. A slender, biting woman in Skyhold’s garden.

“Except… what about Morrigan? Aren’t they together anymore?”

The blush on the Commander’s cheeks returned.

“It appears they have… an arrangement,” he said stiffly. “While they’re apart.”

In spite of herself, Amaryll grinned and leaned back.

“Oh really? That’s delightful. And very convenient for you.”

She hadn’t thought it possible, but Cullen’s face turned even redder.

“I didn’t say I would-” he exclaimed loudly, only to realize that she was teasing him. He breathed in, out. “I didn’t say I would take him up on his proposition.”

The smile on Amaryll’s face faded. Her expression settled back to attentive neutrality. She watched intently as Cullen walked towards the bed, pulling off his heavy gloves, and took a seat next to her.

“I wouldn’t know…”

“What to do with yourself?”

He hesitated.

“That but also the implications. Of being… with a man.”

Amaryll exhaled lowly, in lieu of a sigh. 

“What would it make you,” she asked, “aside from somebody who enjoyed an old flame’s company for a night? Would it make you anything different than what you were yesterday?”

Cullen didn’t respond, only continued staring at the carpet. It hadn’t been the right thing to say. If she’d still had two hands, she would have folded them in her lap. Instead, Amaryll scooted closer to Cullen, leaning her upper arm to his.

“There is a saying among some Dalish clans,” she prompted airily. “When happiness beckons, we crawl. When pain beckons, we run. ”

“That is… a terrible saying. You’re making that up.”

She snorted. How well he’d gotten to know her.

“I am, but it illustrates a point. Sometimes people have an easier time torturing themselves over something that could make them happy, rather than just accept the thing itself, do you know what I mean? You can sit here all night dissecting the way you see yourself. What you thought you were in the past, what you are now, what you will be tomorrow. Or you can simply be. Make the decision you want, regardless of how it may look for others. I promise there will be people around you to support you no matter what. I, for one.”

Cullen lifted his head to meet her eyes, putting one elbow on his thigh and rubbing his nape ferociously.

“I see your point.” He paused, thinking. “Thank you.”

She nodded lightly.

“And if it is pointers you need, I can put you through to Dorian. I’m sure he would be utterly enraptured. And very helpful.”

“Don’t you dare- I could never-” he exclaimed, shooting straight up into a stand while Amaryll cackled. 

“Peace, now. This will stay between you and I unless you tell me otherwise.”

Cullen’s shoulders dropped, his expression eased. For a moment, they only looked at each other, warmly, until Cullen flexed his fingers.

“Thank you, Lavellan. Amaryll.”

She smiled back at him, heart full.

“I told you, you’re welcome here anytime. Thank you for thinking of me. Trusting me. I appreciate it.”

Cullen nodded, then flexed his fingers once more. 

“Good night,” he said abruptly, cutting through the awkwardness, before moving to leave.

He was almost down the stairs before Amaryll’s gaze fell upon the gloves he’d tossed by the foot of the bed. She scrambled to grab them, jumped towards the other end of the bed, and leaned over the railing.

“Cullen!” she called. “You forgot these!”

He halted, looking up at her. Contemplating.

“I’ll pick them up next time I’m here.”

A warmth spread through her chest, like milk and honey on her tongue. He’ll come back.

He’ll come back.

[takenxusername]

Prompt from @yournewwriter: “I wish we had more time”

We’ve sat next to each other in the same bed for 6 months now. Half a year, gone by so fast. It truly makes you think of how crazy it is that the most beautiful parts of your life pass you by in an instant, but the agony feels like forever.

I remember being born again by the Countess. I was a resilient child, my family had been murdered. She strung me up on the roof of her home, and bit me on the neck. I lay there waiting anxiously for my death as the rays of the sun start to incinerate my skin layer by layer.

She was just passing through, she didn’t have to climb up the mansion to save me. She didn’t have to stand in front of the suns rays so I wouldn’t crumble into dust. But she did, and I’m so grateful. “Think nothing of it” she said “I’m sure you would do the same for me”. After I killed the countess I went looking for that girl. She lived in a village not far from the Countess’ estate. I was searching for miles so I couldn’t stay long, because dawn was starting to break. But I left a Dahlia I found on the way to her at her doorstep.

And the rest was history. She found me in a bunker at the outskirts of her town, and we would have small dates in the dead of night. It’s been 6 months.

We both lie nude on a pile of hay. Her soft dark hair covers my torso, and I can feel her cheek on my sternum. The pressure it provides feels better than any bed could possibly feel. In that moment, I realized what a monster I was. “I’m thinking of leaving this place” I felt the words tumble out of my mouth before I could sugarcoat them. She lifted her head up, and looked at me with her deep, hopeful green eyes. “Where do you want to go? I’d love to be apart of that. It would be quite the difficulty telling my parents though” she chuckled, and I smiled for a moment. But just for a moment.

“I was thinking of leaving…without you.” I continued, and I could feel her shiver in my grip. “I’m..not supposed to be with you. What we have isn’t right. I was forced into the life of a devil. I can’t live as a regular girl anymore” I avert her gaze because her eyes burn hotter than the sun. She had so many questions, so many protests, she pleaded me to stay. “It’s not your fault you have to walk through the night. If it’s that hard to live this way, then take me with you! I don’t want us to be apart” She began to cry. I could see the light of torches in the distance from the shed. I knew it wouldn’t have been long before the townspeople caught on to a monster hidden in their midst. I placed my lover beside me and began to put my clothes on. I grabbed the dagger that I stole from the countess, the one I used to get revenge after she tried to kill me.

“Valerie. I don’t know if you can hear it, but there’s an angry mob out there. They know what I am. I can’t stay here for long. If I take you with me it’ll look worse. I don’t want you to have to live in fear. Your beauty is worth more than that” I toss Val her clothes as I sheathe the dagger and grab a pitch fork from the corner. She was covering herself with a blanket she brought with her to see me. Even in her anguish she looked absolutely majestic. The slowly rising Sun made the darkness of her skin glow. “If you open that door, I’ll hate you forever” she exclaimed with tears in her eyes. I grabbed the handle and tried to smile through it, but I could feel tears in my eyes too. “I wish we had more time together” I responded as I wiped my tears and left.

Dawn was breaking. This time, I’m done running. The mob stands before me, the leader was Val’s father. They had the same nose, the same stern expression. Very similar scent, but he was more rugged.

“What have you been doing with my daughter you demon?” He snarled. I break the pitchfork in half and grin.

“I had just finished dessert when you had arrived. Thank you for bringing me dinner.”

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony's Stupid Daily Blog (556): Sun 24th Sep 2023

My last day in Gran Canaria. I was a bit depressed knowing I had to go back to freezing Sunderland but reassured myself that I won’t have to tolerate the cold for long because I’m going to start making a holiday in the sun a regular treat for myself. I think I’ll start coming here four times a year to celebrate the end of the Autumn, the Winter, the Spring and possibly the coldest season in the UK: the summer. Unlike the hotels I stay in when I travel around the UK the hotel I was staying at didn’t require me to be up and out the door at the break of fucking dawn so I got a little bit of a lie in this morning. I’m already a little bit sunburnt and my clothes are irritating my skin so I didn’t go in the sun today in case I made it worse and was in agony for the entire journey home. Instead I sat in the shade and started reading the next book in my Edgar challenge: The Lock Artist by Steve Hamilton. It’s about a mute kid named Michael who from an early age becomes gifted at unlocking locks and naturally turns to a life of crime. While I was waiting for my coach to arrive I played some pool on the table by the pool area. After one shot the white ball went in one of the pockets and a guy walking by said “Two shots” and I replied “I’ve already had five pints” and despite this being the funniest thing anyone has ever said / ever will say he didn’t ask if he could be my best friend. I got picked up at 6pm to get taken to the airport and waved goodbye (for now) to this little slice of paradise. I’m so glad I decided to not bring a suitcase because being able by I get checked in and through to the departure lounge in a matter of minutes made this one of the most pleasurable journeys I’ve ever been on. I still had two hours to kill before my flight so I walked around looking for stuff to write jokes about. I walked past a clothing store and they had a big life size plastic cow on display and for some reason it was on wheels. Now I’ve heard of a milkfloat but that’s just ridiculous (that will not be one of the lines I use when I do stand up next year in case you’re wondering…unless everything else I write in the meantime is absolute shit). When I finally got on the plane the pilot told us that we were expected to get there ahead of time which got a big cheer from the passengers. The old woman next to me fell asleep and her head dropped down and to the side. If she was sitting alone in a room on a chair like that you would’ve sworn she’d been shot from behind. I assumed that she’d be really uncomfortable when she woke up but she was really old so I assume that every time she wakes up she’s just happy that she’s not in Hell. We got home in just under four hours and I immediately darted past all the suckers at baggage claim, through the passport checking place, out the front door, let out the mother of all farts I’d been holding in for just over four hours then headed back in and got myself a taxi home which arrived almost immediately. This trip has been just what I needed. The cold autumn, winter and spring months are torturous but they’re made even more so by the fact that I constantly tell myself that the summer will be amazing and more than make for it…then it isn’t and it doesn’t. Say I live to be 75 that means I’m doomed to suffer through the miserable lead up to summer and then the crushing disappointment of summer 40 more times and I simply won’t do it. Once every three or four months I’m going to start booking a week long trip away to the Canary Islands as a reward for plowing through and enduring another shitty season. 

[sheriffgrimes-archerdixon]

hello! could you do a daryl x reader, where instead of daryl getting kidnapped and tortured by the saviors it’s reader? she escapes and comes home on her own, traveling for days without food or water and severely injured. scars, gashes, maybe a facial wound? she returns to alexandria, but it extremely out of it and on auto pilot to deal with what she went through? you decide the rest<3

Of course! Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you like it<3

Safe at last

The saviours were all monsters. All of them. They were evil, cruel and blood thirsty. They and their leader, Negan. Gods did you hate him. He was purely a bastard. Nothing more nothing less. You hated him with your whole being and wouldn’t rest until he was dead on the ground in front of your feet. You hated him more than words could describe from the way he was so cocky and nonchalant about killing your family. The people who had your back every second of every day. But you and all of them were all weak the night Abrahams death… no- murder. Occurred. Abrahams death was awful enough let alone Glenn’s unwarranted killing. The cracks of their skulls were something you’d never ever forget in your whole entire life the agony they must’ve felt the blood spurting out from their skulls reminding you and your family that you weren’t in control. He was. The saviours were. They were cruel bastards and wouldn’t stop until you and the Alexandrians knew that you were not in control.

You couldn’t think of anything worse than your friends being killed and nothing could ever amount to the pain you felt but this new scenario you were in was starting to drive you to absolute insanity. You had been locked in this damned room for days… weeks… months… you had lost count of how many days you had been locked in here. The saviours had kidnapped you straight after Glenn and Abrahams death and it was like a total slap in the face. Not only were her family suffering with the death of Glenn and Abraham but they were also suffering because they didn’t know whether you had been killed or simply hurt. You wanted to go home more than anything. You wanted to be in Daryl’s arms and have him comfort you. On the night the saviours kidnapped you daryl tried to stop it he really did. He attempted to fight Negan but that didn’t help the situation. You were vulnerable and weak against the saviours and you could do absolutely nothing to stop them from taking you and so that’s how you ended up here in a cold dark room disorientated and absolutely broken. Your lip had been busted up from trying to fight Dwight back but he ultimately won. You were tough, yess you fought back desperately but you weren’t tough enough.

The memories of what Negan did swayed around your head like a merciless nightmare “you can breathe you can blink you can cry… hell you’re all gonna be doing that” the cruelness in his tone was going to forever break your heart the cries that left your lips, maggies lips- everyone’s. That day was a day of nightmares and it would haunt you forever. That day was the day you knew you absolutely hated Negan and wouldn’t ever forgive him no matter what. He was a cruel bastard and got amusement from your pain. That’s why you swore to never stop fighting back until he was dead. The memories were awful and horrified you. They left you weak and hurt. Broken-hearted. You should’ve done more you could’ve done more to stop them from dying. You just wanted nothing more than to kill the bastard and get revenge for you and your family- get justice for Glenn and Abraham. Trust me. You most definitely would get justice no matter what. You’d make sure he suffered the way you and everyone else did. You’d make sure he regretted his decision of ever messing with you and your family.

Disorientation started setting in the day you arrived the dark room being the only thing you ever saw anymore. Silence filled your head your vision blurry from a mix of tears, blood and tiredness. Your head was pounding as you knew you were going to die here. You were going to die. Simple. The silence was agonisingly deafening the memories of everything you had done wrong haunting you. You shouldn’t fought back more. You should’ve done more to save Abraham and Glenn. You should’ve. ‘You’re weak…’ a cold voice sang in your head your inner demons pushing your limits however that voice soon disappeared as soon as the starting beats of the familiar song started up. You stared down at the ground trying to ignore the song but as it began to replay over and over again you slowly lifted your hands up to your ears covering your ears to try and deafen out the music. “We’re on easy street and it feels so sweet cause the world is but a treat when you’re on easy street” it was too happy. Too agonisingly happy. As if the song, the universe and the saviours were trying to mock you. Trying to prove you were nothing against them. You wouldn’t cry, no. You wouldn’t give them that satisfaction but this was your last straw. You were hungry, weak and in pain from the many bruises littered upon your skin a couple of cuts upon your skin had turned into scars. You looked awful. The pain you felt was truly agonising and you were so close to giving up. But the constant reminder that your family… that daryl was still in alexandria… you’d fight for them. You would. You had to.

“Here’s your food girl” a voice grabbed your attention a rather chubby man said holding out a paper plate towards you. It looked like an innocent sandwich simply a sandwich but the immense smell of dog food was enough to show you it wasn’t nice food. “Shove that up your ass” you snapped scowling as the man grinned letting out a laugh “mmm feisty… how cute.” He let out a laugh and you knew he was mocking you. He was sizing you up. You couldn’t stand it anymore and so without much of a thought you lunged at him yanking the gun from his holster before shooting him in the stomach and as he fell to his knees you shot him straight in the head. You let out a shaky breath staring at his body relief flooding through your veins before you stood up practically sprinting out of the room and down the corridor. You ran and ran and ran not daring to stop. You ran until you couldn’t breathe anymore, your legs aching the wind blowing in your face proving one thing: you were safe at last. From the saviours at least. You continued pumping your legs your breathing heavy a slight wheeze coming from your lips along with a pounding in your head the adrenaline rushing around your body acting as an anecdote for your pain. You looked behind you and let out a breath of relief. You were in the middle of no where but you were okay. You were safe. Safer than you have been in a while and that was more than enough for you.

You trudged along the path slowly and quietly your legs aching and your head continuing to pound. The pain had gotten worse. About a week had passed but you couldn’t be sure how long you had been walking for. Your body was in absolute disarray agony sweeping throughout you. The sudden sound of walkers grabbed your attention their groans being all too close for comfort and so pushing through the pain you sprinted off in the further direction far away from the dead. You ran and ran not daring to stop.

Night had turned into day and day had turned into night repeatedly over and over again. You had twisted your ankle your walk having a slight limp to it your vision blurry and tired. You were exhausted and simply wanted to be safe. Your eyes scanned the area until a sudden shouting grabbed your attention “daryl!!! Rick!! Everyone! Open the gates!!!” You limped towards the voices as voices yelled and screamed the voices muddling up into one as the voices spoke your name constantly as if they were surprised you were there. Were they your family? You were so disorientated you weren’t quite sure whether this was real or simply a hallucination “y/n! Y/n’s here!!” You saw the gate be pulled open as a familiar figure ran towards you your eyesight blurry your legs weak and tired and as soon as the familiar scent wrapped around you his arms tight around your body as he gripped onto you. He kept a hold of you carefully lifting you up in his arms as he carefully spun you around before placing you back down on the ground his hands gently cupping your face in his hands anger forming on his face as he saw your wounds “they’re going to pay. The fucking bastards.” He spat out. You were scared it was a dream. A wonderful dream where you’d wake up and find out that he wasn’t real and he was simply a Walker. You fluttered your eyes open gazing at the man in front of you as it all seemed to click into place like one big puzzle piece. “Daryl?” A soft whimper fell from your lips and he nodded his head fervently “I’m here my love I’m right here” he said and as soon as you heard his voice a soft sob left your lips your legs going weak your legs buckling beneath you your arms weakly wrapped around him the voices around you sounding distant and echo-y, Daryl’s arms being wrapped around you being the only thing keeping you sane, knowing you were safe with him. “They’ve really messed her up,” Rick said sounding angry as both daryl and Rick spoke to one another oh so obviously sounding pained and angry that anyone would dare hurt you like this.

“Rick she’s dead weight I need some help” Daryl’s voice was heard before another set of hands gently grabbed onto your other arm Rick lifting one of your arms over his shoulder whilst daryl did the same with your other arm the both of them carefully leading you into alexandria. You kept on going in and out of consciousness your feet dragging against the ground as you could barely keep your eyes open. Your body kept on giving up on you as you kept on collapsing into their grips barely being able to keep your eyes open your body falling into auto pilot as you simply didn’t know how to control yourself, your emotions or your feelings your body trembling simply begging yourself to not give up. You were weak and on the brink of dehydration, death and everything else. Everything in the universe had seemed to take a toll on you trying to hurt you trying to get you to give up and die. “To the medical room!” Someone you couldn’t quite make out. “No- n-no I-I’m fine.” You mumbled your head lulling forwards “fine my ass” daryl murmured knowing all too well you were not fine. The last few moments went by in a blur as you remembered being dragged towards the medical room but you were now laying on a bed daryl and Denise either side of you. “Daryl it hurts” you grumbled weakly. He grasped onto your hand tightly squeezing it three times in a ‘I love you’ signal. “I know… just breathe through it” he comforted bringing your hand up to his lips pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. Denise carefully rubbed a warm rag against your temple slowly wiping away the blood as you winced every so often “is she going to be okay?” Daryl asked worriedly his eyes filled with concern. Denise nodded her head “yes she’s going to be fine. She’s very lucky in fact. She’s going to need a couple of stitches,” and as Denise said that your vision became blurry the pain slowly getting the best of you as you fell into an unconscious state. Multiple people came and checked up on you including Rick, Carl and a couple of others making sure you were okay daryl being very protective of you and making sure no one got too close unless necessary. He was afraid everyone would hurt you- he of course trusted Rick and his group but the ones he didn’t trust were the reckless alexandrians who were disturbingly stupid so he’d keep an eye out to make sure no one harmed you.

You thrashed in your sleep your breathing growing heavier as Negan’s voice entered your brain. “You’ll never get away from us, doll. You’re ours sweetheart. There’s no way out of it.” His laugh echoed around your skull your breathing heavy as your squirmed around trembling in your sleep little whimpers falling from your lips. You had been terrorised with nightmares ever since encountering Negan’s terrors and now you couldn’t get away from the horrors. “Y/n… y/n…” a soft voice whispered and you snapped your eyes open Daryl’s harsh concerned blue eyes coming into view. He gently cupped your cheek in his hand “are you okay? You’re safe.” He assured gently and you nodded slowly tears burning your vision as you sniffled leaning into his touch wrapping your arms around him as you squeezed your eyes shut. You were still in the medical room, Daryl was sat down beside you on a chair and Denise continuously checked your vitals. “He came back… he came back” you whimpered out. “He’s going to hurt me” you whispered absolutely terrified and Daryl slowly shook his head stroking his fingertips along your cheek slowly and gently “shhh darling. You’re in Alexandria. You’re safe. I promise you.” He assured gently as you squeezed your eyes shut. You wanted to believe him but you were terrified and didn’t know what to believe anymore. But you knew from the peacefulness he was telling the truth and you were in Alexandria and you were indeed safe and sound and if Negan somehow found you and tried to take you back you knew you and your family would fight back. You’d fight back and you’d make sure to prove one thing. You were not scared of him. You’d prove you were strong and unafraid. You’d prove you could stand up for yourself and you would prove that Negan and the saviours couldn’t control your life anymore. You’d prove to them that one way or another you and the Alexandrian’s would win this fight.

I hope you liked this one thank you so much for the request! I might possibly make a part two to this one!

[storiesofteyvat]

Seeing Their Child For The First Time

Pairing(s): Xiao, Kaeya, Childe, Zhongli, and Venti x Female Reader

Warnings: None

A/N; Just wanted to write some cute hcs since I absolutely love these men as fathers.

The moment the harbinger holds his son in his arms was something he’ll never forget, he couldn’t help the tears that began to run down his cheeks.

Childe had grown up with a large family, but after joining the Fatui, his dreams of having one of his own practically vanished. When he looks down at the small babe, a mixed feeling of both pride and shame washed over him. Could someone with such a gruesome record really be worthy of being a father? Someone who gave his life away to serve something so evil...someone who killed?

But his washed away once his son looked at him, his small frame watching with such innocent eyes. From that day on, Childe swore he would protect his small family, both his wife and son.

The Calvary Captain couldn’t help the soft smile on his lips when he saw in son in his sleeping wife’s arms, a sense of pride washing over him as he grabbed the young child and held him in his arms.

Of course having a family crossed his mind from time to time, and watched the whole nine months as his wife went through each stage of pregnancy, nothing could’ve prepared him for such a feeling fatherhood would bring.

Kaeya won’t lie, the moment y/n announced to him that she was pregnant he was scared. Not just because he was having a child on the way, but scared because he didn’t want his past to catch up to him during such a time. But his worries faded away once his son opened his eyes.

Crystal blue eyes...just like him. Kaeya looked into his eyes wordlessly, tears forming in his own. After losing everything, those eyes were the last beautiful reminder he had of Khaenri'ah.

The once calm and collected Yaksha was visibly shaking when he walked into the room, instantly seeing his wife and...daughter. He felt scared- no, he felt absolutely terrified to take another step. He was an Adeptus, a being who once took away innocent lives, a being that still suffered from their screams of agony and his karmic debt. How was he worthy enough to go near such a fragile and innocent thing?

“Do you want to hold her?” y/n’s voice asked softly, snapping Xiao out of his thoughts and to her in an instant. He stayed quiet at first, but after looking into her eyes he hesitantly walked over to the two. While he was perfectly fine with just watching the two of them, he couldn't imagine how tired she must've been after hearing her screams of pain from just a few moments ago, so he cautiously took the babe into his arms.

Xiao had seen babies before, sure, but never at this stage. It took a while before he could prop the girl into a more comfortable position, but got there in the end. A new sense of pride and purpose washed over him, he was so lost in staring at his daughter that he didn't even the tears that were running down his cheeks.

He had a new purpose, to not only protect all of Liyue, but to protect his two beacons of hope. To protect them at all costs.

Nothing can stop the huge smile on Venti's face when he sees his daughter for the first time. He feels so accomplished, knowing that she was the result of both him and someone he loved. He instantly takes the girl from his wife's tired arms and hold her in his, his smile never once fading.

So, this is what it feels like to be a father. He'd think to himself, gently stroking her cheek. She was so small and fragile, as if she could break with a slight wrong touch. But nevertheless, he was absolutely whipped for her.

Venti hums a soft tunes to his daughter as he sits down on a nearby chair, rocking the sleeping babe. After hundreds of years of protecting other families, he finally had a family of his own to protect. And he'd do absolutely anything to keep them out of harms reach.

After thousands of years of protecting Liyue, never in his life did Zhongli imagine himself settling down. This was a new chapter in both his and y/n’s life, their baby girl. He was a bit nervous the moment he saw the two of them, but the feeling was instantly pushed away. It was a feeling he couldn’t describe, perhaps it was pride, maybe it was sadness, but when he brought his daughter into his arms he felt a new sense of understanding of the human race.

This is why humans were so eager to have children, this is what he fought to protect thousands of years ago. To say he loved his daughter was an understatement, he completely adored her.

While y/n slept, he’ll be in the corner sitting on a chair with the babe in his arms, telling her stories from long ago as he stared down at her with such a gentle look. While he knew he didn’t have much, he swore from that day on that he’d be the best father he can be. While the concept of fatherhood was entirely new to him, Zhongli loved the idea of watching his baby girl grow up into a beautiful young woman.

Bonus:

- Sometimes you’d occasionally find your son laying on top of Childe’s chest while they both sleep. (Making a cute photo but also pretty good blackmail to show the Fatui if he ever pissed you off).

- Kaeya would go around all of Mondstadt with his son in his arms and brag to every single person there that he had a son. (He’ll even bring your son to his office for “bring your son to work day”. Everyone knew that Kaeya was making it up but at this point couldn’t care less).

- One time your daughter got bullied by a few older kids at school, and while most fathers would’ve went straight to the principal, Xiao on the other hand decided to threaten them with both his mask and spear pointed directly at them. (You ended up having to switch her school).

- Venti would constant use his daughter as inspiration for his songs. And while it was incredibly cute at first, it soon annoyed the people of Mondstadt since whenever they’d ask for a different song he’d practically threaten ask them politely to request a song about his daughter. (You nor your daughter wanted to be seen ever again after that)

- Zhongli tends to get carried away with his stories, so your daughter would end up falling asleep without him even noticing. It could be after two hours when he finally finishes and realizes she’s asleep. (It’s honestly an easy way to get her to fall asleep, so neither of you are complaining.

[firegoddess96]

Chapter 1

Summary: Y/n was rescued by Bucky when she was younger leading them to a beautiful friendship. But will the friendship evolve into something more with distance and time? Y/n is all grown up now and the boys are back from war. Will their longing hearts finally become one?

Warning: angst, eventual smut, talk of assault, fluff

Moving to Brooklyn seemed like a nightmare to you at the time, you were 8 years old and Texas was the only home you had ever known.

Growing up in your small town everyone knew everyone, and no one batted an eye at your chunky frame. You had just always been that way. But here, in the big city full of strangers, you could feel the judgemental stares and the hear the whispered criticisms. Never before had you felt insecure in your own skin, but New York had a way of making everyone feel out of place. And you absolutely hated it.

After a while a group of boys a few grades above you started to harass you on the way home from school. They were maybe 12 or 13yrs old, and would follow you around making rude comments about your weight and the clothes you wore.

This went on for years until you were 15, and the harassment took on a new tone. The stares became lecherous and the comments more sexual. You became very afraid, always kept pepper spray and your dads pocket knife on you just like he told you. The day came were one of the older boys tried to corner you into the wall and touch you.

He didn’t get very far, as you reached for the mace in you pocket you heard a deep voice growl out at the boys.

“You punks better back away from the dame.” You could see him over the assailant’s shoulder, blue eyes dark with rage and jaw tense. If looks could kill, the boy trying to pin you to the wall would be dead.

James “Bucky” Barnes, the guy every girl in Brooklyn wanted, and who could blame them? He was kind, charming and practically a white knight, he rescued girls all the time from creeps like these, and rescued his best friend too. Here he was standing in the alley about to fight 3 guys all on his own, and he didn’t even know who you were. At least you didn’t think so.

“Back off Barnes, this don’t concern you!” Sneered the boy in front of you.

“Well I think it does punk. Now back off the dame and leave.” Bucky’s eyes narrowed into a glare, fists clenched at his sides. You were baffled, he was really gonna do this, was gonna pick a fight, outnumbered, for a complete stranger.

Getting your whits together you tighten your hand on the mace in you pocket. You met Bucky’s eyes and gave him a look, glancing at the other 2 silent goons. You prayed he’d understand, and it looked like your prayers were answered when his eyes brightened with understanding and his lips lifted in a smirk.

Tapping your would be attacker on the shoulder you sprayed him in the eyes as soon as he turned to face you. Then you kneed him in the balls with all your strength, and shoved him back. His ass landed groaning on the asphalt in agony, while you could hear the pained moans and grunts from the other two near the alley entry. Glancing up you see Bucky with blood coming from his lip and the other two knocked out cold on the ground.

Bucky offered you his hand and guided you to safety, Penny’s dinner just a few blocks down. He stayed with you to make sure you were ok, helped you through the shock. You ended up staying the rest of the evening drinking milkshakes and eating burgers with both him and Steve. It was the start of a beautiful friendship.

Sadly, your boys went off to war, you had to watch Bucky leave first, followed by little Stevie, who wasn’t so little anymore. You spent 3 years writing your boys letters and praying that you’d get one back. You always did, some times they’d take months to get to you, but you’d get just as many as you’d send. Once you didn’t get a response for 6 months and all at once got 20 letters from each of them, responding to each and every question you had asked in detail.

Steve met a gal named Peggy, a pretty British thing that loved him for who he was on the inside, not his new muscles. You liked her already, and couldn’t wait until he brought her home. But this also worried you, if Steve could find someone over seas, then couldn’t Bucky? You kept you feeling locked away, but it was there and it was all consuming, you’d been in love with him since that day when you were 15. But you knew he couldn’t feel the same way, he was older, mature and could get any pretty girl he wanted. Why would he go for the young, thick girl who happened to be one of his best friends.

The day came when the war was over, we had one. Your boys were coming home. You got the news of their arrival and racesd home from work to change. You slipped into you summer dress with the roses and gold sandles, curled your hair and put on your favorite burgundy lipstick then raced to the airport to see your boys.

The tall mop of blonde hair was easy to spot first, and next to him the brunette who held your heart. Grinning so large, feeling as if your face would split open, you yelled for them.

“BUCKY! STEVIE!”

*Bucky*

Their heads whipped in your direction and their eyes grew big. Standing by the luggage carrousel was y/n, but not the y/n they left 3 years ago. No, this y/n was all grown up. Bucky’s heart practically stopped, she was gorgeous. All curves and legs, her hair was wild and her full lips were painted a deep burgundy. She was a vision, an angel after the hell of war.

Before he left for war he had a small crush on her, his delicate bunny. So sweet and pure, he vowed to protect her from everything that would ruin her, including himself. So he kept it locked away, was there for her as a friend. But after 3 years of nothing but letters and longing, he was so worried he would lose her to someone else, that she would meet some punk while he was gone and this faceless guy would take away his bunny.

He kept reminding himself the whole way home that Y/n is just a friend, that he had no claim to her and no right to be possessive. But the second he saw her he had trouble remembering how to breath, let alone why he shouldn’t have her. That she wasn’t his bunny, but damnit, yes she was. And he was gonna prove it!

[tumbledfreckles]

Glad

Look, things escalated once I saw a post about in the name of fairness and equality, having a shirtless Lily Evans July, to go along with shirtless James Potter May (wasn’t that a cracker). I went off and wrote something, only to find my colleagues had smartly decided to move it August, give we’ve already got the @jilychallenge going on this month. But I’m all about instant gratification, so seeing I was late to shirtless JP, let me be early to shirtless LE. I doubt it’ll be my only entry, regardless. 

"Does it hurt?"

Lily shook her head, biting down on her bottom lip to keep from wincing or crying out, as pain tore through her back with each of the shuddering breath. 

"Can I see?" 

James’ hand hovered in the region of her shoulder, she could see out of the corner of her eye. He hesitated, waiting for permission. 

"I'm fine." The words ground out of her with another excruciating shake of her head. 

"Evans." His fingers brushed her top, withdrawing the second she flinched, a sharp hiss escaping before she could stop it. "You're not fine." 

"I'm okay." Lily turned as she spoke, not wanting her back to him, not wanting to let him keep seeing what had to be the grossest, nastiest thing he'd ever seen. Her eyes met his, surprised to see frustration where she'd expected pity, or worse, disgust.

"Let me help you." 

She stared at him, long moments, until the burning pain in the wound was worse than the burn of desire she felt around him, and she gave up on the idea of appearing brave and fierce and worthy. 

James’ touch was hesitant, even after she nodded. He didn't seem to know where to start. A gentle caress along the torn and exposed muscle of her shoulder blade drew a groan, a firmer tug at the frayed fabric of her shirt a more strangled, stricken yelp. 

"Shit, sorry," he was instantly apologetic. Lily snuck a look over her one intact shoulder, to see James had stepped back, face pale, hand running through his messy locks. He looked nervous, uncertain. Like he knew the answer, but didn't care for the result. 

"What is it?" Her voice was husky with pain and fatigue. She wasn't sure how she hadn't passed out yet. 

James sighed, looked away, looked back. He grimaced, finally spoke. "It's your shirt. It's stuck, from the," he paused, swallowed, "from the blood."

"Okay," Lily nodded slowly. 

He could see she didn't understand. "It has to come off." 

"My shirt?" 

"Yeah," James sighed, his shoulders dropping. "Your shirt. It has to come off." 

"Oh." Eventually, effortfully, her fingers moved to comply. A whimper escaped soon after. "I can't." 

He blinked at her. "What?" 

"My shirt. I can't get it off." She was horrified to find her eyes pricking. 

"Oh." A tick flicked across his jaw as James processed. "Do you want me to -" 

"If you don’t-”

“I don’t” 

“Ta." Her gaze went to the floor as he stepped closer, reaching for the top button. He clearly tried not to touch her. An absolute failed mission. Warm fingers brushed her throat, her chest, knuckles soft against her breast, her stomach. It wasn't until she felt his hand tremble as he pulled one side of the shirt away, exposing her to his view, that her eyes flew back to his face. 

James wasn't looking at her. Not directly at least. Maybe somewhere over her shoulder, possibly near her ear. Lily was fascinated to see a tinge in his cheeks, a flush in his neck. Lips pressed in concentration, he didn't even seem to be breathing. Long lashes hid a storm of hazel behind his wire framed glasses as he work the material towards her shoulders, and paused. 

"I'll have to rip it." 

She jumped, immediately regretting it as a fresh wave of nausea swept through with the blinding pain. "What?" 

"Your shirt," he gestured uselessly. 

"My shirt?" 

"I can't get it down your arm. Unless you can roll that shoulder," he raised an eyebrow, "I'm going to have to rip your shirt off." 

"All your wildest dreams come true, huh, Potter?" Lily couldn't help the quip, despite the pain, and in the moment the grin split across James face, it was worth it.

"Not quite the way I pictured this, believe me," James shook his head as Lily snorted, his face growing somber before she was ready for that one moment of lightness to be over. His hands hovered over a seam. "Ready?" 

Lily curls her hands into fists, feeling her nails cut into her palms. "Do it." 

Despite her best efforts, a low moan escaped for her throat, a harsh breath as James pulled the material away. Audible, so loud it would have been embarrassing if she'd had the capacity to care, panting came next as he painstakingly peeled it from where it stuck to her skin. So all consumed by her agony, she barely had time to process that she was now shirtless before him.

"I'm sorry." He leant so close, she felt his breath on her now bare, now exposed neck. 

"It's okay. Keep going."

"Here." She felt James’ hand reached around her, take hold of hers. He prised her fingers apart, entwining them with his own. "Hold tight." 

Lily squeezed gratefully. Probably too tightly, but James gave no indication he minded if she broke any of his bones, as he knitted her back together. The burn of torn flesh was replaced slowly but surely with just the heat of his touch as he healed. 

Finally, but all too soon, he was done. But the feel of his rough, calloused fingertips remained. Her skin tingled with awareness. James' hand slid across her now smooth shoulder, catching on her bra strap. She thanked the high heavens it was one of her better ones, having been out for dinner with the girls when she was summoned to the battlefield. 

"Alright, Evans?" His voice was soft as he trailed along the lace edge to her collar bone, stopping at the nape of her neck. 

Lily leant back, until his shirt brushed against her bare skin. "Much better, thanks." She kept going, leaning her weight onto him, sinking into his warmth. "I was stupid." 

"Taunting Lestrange may not have been your best move," James agreed, cheek to hers. His arm stole around her waist, causing her to gasp at the novel feel of his forearm against her stomach. Not wanting him to read her sound of surprise for anything less than pleasure, her own arm covered his, spanning the corded muscles. 

Bold from adrenaline, left over from the battle, high of the thrill of surviving another night, she turned her head, until her lips caught his cheek. "Thank you for hauling me out of there."

He nuzzled against her. "You're welcome." 

"And thank you for healing me." Her lips landed on the corner of his mouth this time. 

"Of course."

"But mostly," she twisted in his arms, hand curling up into his hair, slipping on the unruly strands. "Thanks for hitting that bastard for me when I couldn't." 

"Always." 

Lily's lips covered his, a perfect fit, like she'd long suspected they would. She heard his hum of pleasure as their mouths moved together for the first time, and all the last bits of tension from the horrible night slipped away. It might have been his kiss, it might have been her relief at their escape, but all of a sudden it didn't matter why her shirt had ended up in tatters on the ground. She was just really glad it had. 

[creativeashproductions]

Change of Scenery // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: Captain Bobby Nash has kept a secret from his friends, his wife and his step children since 2015 when he came to LA. Bobby’s eldest and only surviving child comes to LA to reconcile and make amends all the while she catches the eye of a certain blue eyed firefighter.

Warnings: Swearing, death/familial loss, pregnancy, blood, angst, injuries/medical emergency, and fluff

Words: 8k

A/N: Back at it with another 9-1-1 fic. Hope you enjoy, and I may just have to do another crossover with 9-1-1 and Julie and the Phantoms.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

There are moments in our lives that define us, whether it can be known as a positive or negative, but the outcome is always the same. A six-letter word that strikes fear and excitement into the souls of humans is change. The fear can be for ourselves or as a result of a child, a sibling, or a parent branching out on their own. Unfortunately, you had gone through a harsh and cruel experience on a cold winter night in the city you grew up in.

A typical Thursday filled with classes at the college you attended in Minnesota on a scholarship, nothing out of the ordinary. The plan had been to drive to your parents’ apartment to catch up with them for the weekend. Saturday morning was already reserved for a girls day with your little sister Brook and your mom. In the afternoon, you’d promised to take your brother Bobby to the ball diamond.

Your bag was packed, the plan to drive straight from class to St. Paul the following day to arrive in the daylight. Your dad struggled with worry when it came to you driving in the dark and especially in winter with icy roads.

“Y/N!” Dottie screeched from the living room of the four-bedroom dormitory. The pretty and curvy brunette had been the first friend you made in college.

Typically Dottie was on the quieter side, so when she screamed, you practically sprinted to the girl.

“Where’s the fire?” You demanded with a smirk at the reference to a topic that was a constant in your family. 

The fire drills your father conducted every four months for an exit plan in case of a fire and general information to save yourselves. He had also trained you to remember fire hazards and how to call dispatch with clear information if that time ever came. It never did and hopefully never would.

“The Lakeview Apartments in St. Paul.” Dottie’s dark brown eyes spoke only of pity and concern. The five foot ten roommate literally caught you as you tumbled into her arms with a loud grief-stricken scream.

You were forever indebted to the brunette for the plans she sacrificed to drive you back to St. Paul. There was absolutely no chance Dottie would allow you to both drive and be alone with no news. The media hadn’t released the names of the 148 deaths the fire relentlessly tore from the land of the living.

“I want to prepare you for what you’ll see. Your mother suffered severe third-degree burns over the majority of her body.” The kind nurse, also one of your friend’s parent, explained as she guided you to the Burn Center in the Regions Hospital, “I don’t want to lie and tell you she’ll be fine. You’re an adult Y/N. You deserve the truth and not be coddled.”

“Is she gonna survive?” You quietly asked, “Has she woken up since she was brought in?”

“The doctor placed her on a high dosage of morphine for the pain. Your father hasn’t left her side.” Lucinda informed you with sympathy written as over her face, The hazel eyes unable to adequately meet yours.

“I’ll check on her, then could you take me to the rooms my siblings are in?” You asked, completely unaware Brook and Bobby had been DOA at the hospital.

Your father hadn’t answered the text messages or the voicemails you had left on his phone—radio silent. You couldn’t be mad when he was with your mom, but a text would have been nice.

“This is where your mother is staying for the unforeseeable future. If you need anything, you can call me.” Lucinda softly replied before turning her heel to head back to the Burn Centre’s front desk.

It was horrific walking into a room with no idea if the occupant who had raised you would survive. The confident, gorgeous mother you had for the past nineteen years was unfamiliar to you, the extensive gauze covering nearly every inch of her body. You almost couldn’t even recognize the man sitting in the chair with his hands wrapped. 

“Dad? What happened?” You questioned the grieving man. The only person left in your family as you would soon come to know.

“Y/N?” Bobby gasped, pushing himself to his feet, staring at his only living child. The guilt ate at him just staring at you with those light brown eyes, “Oh, sweetheart.”

Your dad crossed the room in a few steps. The scent of smoke was still clinging to every part of him, but it was fine. Your dad was okay, minus the wounds on his hands. You’d always been closer with your father than your mother.

“Dad, what happened?” You quietly asked the ashamed firefighter that had to reconcile his feelings on the fire and his career—that struggle ending up pushing you away when he really just wanted you as close as possible.

“The building caught on fire after an ember from a heater lit a blanket on fire,” Bobby informed you with his eyes pinned on his wife. Bobby knew the chances of Marcy surviving were incredibly low, and he had to tell you that.

Bobby only knew the details passed on from a firefighter who pitied the man who’d lost most of his family. 

“Is Mom gonna be okay?” You questioned, and the said injured woman in the bed weakly responded.

“Baby?” Marcy quietly questioned from her absolutely still position on the hospital bed, “Uh, Bobby.”

You left your father’s side to be as close to your mom as possible, with the clear plastic separating you for her safety. Your heart shattered at the sheer exhaustion in her pretty blue eyes. 

“Hi, Mom.” You shakily spoke with one hand lightly pressed against the plastic divider. You didn’t even notice when your dad stepped up too.

“Marcy?” Bobby called out from right beside you, just as torn up, but Bobby carried extra weight on his shoulders, “We’re right here, Marcy. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

The muffled grunt of pain, your mom’s attempt to save you from grief, Marcy let out as she turned her head to look at you. You knew deep in your gut that this was the time place you would see your mom alive. And by the look in her eyes, she knew too.

“The...kids…?” Your mom’s breathing became more erratic as she questioned the man she viewed as her hero. The man she believed had saved her and their youngest children, “Where...are they?”

“The kids are fine.” The way your father said it and the tears led to the knowledge once kept from you.

“No.” You whispered, seeing the total grief written clear on his face. The pain meds and agony kept your mom from knowing the truth.

“They’re safe.”

“I knew you’d come and save us.” Your mom breathed as her eyes started hiding the pretty blue you’d now only see in pictures. In your dreams, until even those faded as father time cruelly pulled you along.

Then your worst nightmare happened. You watched as the woman you looked up to flatlined with the thought of her children safe. You’d always know she’d held on just long enough to find out the state of her children. You could only hope she’d forgive your father for lying to her as she died.

“Mom!” You screamed, fighting the arms of an orderly restraining you. You barely noticed the resistance to your frantic attempts.

One minute you were staring at a team unsuccessfully trying to revive your long-gone mother, then you were in a hotel room. The atmosphere tense and quiet between father and daughter, with the ghost of your dead family to keep you both company. You could hear Brook gagging every time you’d kissed your now ex. You could see Bobby toddling after you years ago.

At least you had your father—a father whose guilt festered until he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“It was my fault.” He murmured, staring at the barely eaten burger that tasted solely just cardboard. He couldn’t bear to look at your face, “I didn’t mean to leave it on.”

Your head snapped to stare at him in disbelief, “What do you mean you didn’t mean to leave it on?”

“I-I went to the roof to sleep after your mom kicked me out. I didn’t have my keys to the apartment I had below ours.” Bobby began spilling the lies he’d told to you about his addictions. Of the apartment, you’d had no clue was even in his possessions.

The pain of losing your family tore into you, “You took my mom away from me. I’ll never get to share my wedding day with her. Shopping for a dress and gossiping about boys. I’ll never be able to wipe Brook’s tears during her first heartbreak.”

Each word broke Bobby more and more.

“You stole my future. You’re selfish, ungrateful and utterly pathetic. You cost so many people so much, all because you sought out your next high.” You spat, glaring at someone you’d never expected to hurt you. You didn’t notice your hands grabbing your possessions nor opening the hotel room door, “You couldn’t even properly try to get clean.”

“Y/N-”

“Get your shit together before you kill anyone else. I never want to see you again.” You sobbed with regret already festering in your body, but pride held you back from apologizing.

Upon your return to your dorm with Dottie by your side, you immediately began the process to enter an exchange program. Within a month, your feet entered Sydney Airport. You didn’t return to America for several years.

You took a job as a casual lifeguard on Bondi Beach, met Lucas in a meet-cute situation at the grocery store. You graduated college and found a job as a paramedic as you began becoming a flight paramedic. In 2020 Lucas and you discovered you’d be bringing in a little baby into the world.

Learning about your little Cashew growing safe in your womb fanned the flame of desire to reconcile. Ultimately the pride kept pushing the urge to apologize for the cruel words you told your father further away. You naively believed you had all the time in the world.  

Remember the six-letter scary word? If losing your mom, siblings, and father was a devastating blow, losing Lucas was nearly tied. Your little Cashew lost their father before they even got to meet him. That was push enough to pack up your home and fly back to America with your father’s new address as soon as you could.

In the fallout of the apartment fire, your father relocated from Minnesota to Los Angeles. 

Los Angeles, 2020

As soon as you’d found the nicest but cheapest hotel to stay in until you found a place, you walked the streets of LA. The first order of business of approaching your father at his workplace as you had no personal address. Residing still in Minnesota, Deputy Chief Evans had only given you the address of Bobby’s work.

You could only hope Bobby wouldn’t turn you away. That he was willing to bridge the gap, you’d widened over the years. That he could forgive the silence to each email, he sent when you changed numbers.

“We should go out to dinner.” The female voice was what brought you back to the present time. The woman was beautiful with her buzzed head and clear skin.

Right by her side was a dark-haired male of Asian ethnicity with a bag thrown over his shoulder, “If you’re paying, you bet I’ll be there.”

The two continued to converse in their own world until the man had to literally dodge you when they finally noticed you.

“Does Chief Bobby Nash work here?” You inquired, having no desire to enter small talk when the baby was sitting on your bladder again. You nearly retched when the man stared down at your swollen midsection, shocked, “It’s not his baby.”

Hen caught the evident disgust on your face, “He’s in his office. I’ll guide you there…”

“Y/N.” You supplied the firefighter. Hen smiled in response, “And your name is…”

“Henrietta Wilson, but you can call me Hen. That was Howard Han. He goes by Chimney, and I’ve been sworn to secrecy on the name.” Hen chuckled in her steps to the closed door of the fire chief. Hen swiftly knocked on the door to give Bobby a heads up.

“Come in!” Bobby called from his pile of paperwork he had pushed and waited to work on. It had slipped as the date came closer. Your twenty-seventh birthday, the seventh one since he last saw you.

“Cap, a woman is asking for you,” Hen told her friend and boss. It’s a good thing you didn’t choose to surprise your father because Hen was shorted, and your bump made manoeuvring around tricky.

“What can I do…” Bobby trailed off when he saw the girl waiting to talk to him. The pen in his hand dropped to the table in shock.

Hen glanced between the two equally taken aback individuals, “Am I missing something here?”

“Hey, dad.” You whispered to the man who’d been dreaming of this moment since the minute you left. He’d searched for you at your previous college and nearly made a missing person report.

“Dad?” Hen couldn’t pick her jaw up from the floor if she even wanted to because this was juicy information. Sure, Bobby had caved into telling his team, his family that he’d lost his wife and two children in a fire.

He rarely talked about his life before the 118, but he’d never mentioned having a surviving daughter. Not in the handful of times he’d talked about the tragedy, nor did he have any objects or photos of you. 

“You’re really here?” Bobby lightly chuckled with a twinkle in his eye. Hen had only seen a handful of times. All of them had Athena in the scene, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You beamed, stepping closer to the man you’d missed dearly, “I’m so sorry for the way I left. What I said was cruel and untrue. You aren’t selfish, and I can’t blame you for something you couldn’t control.”

Bobby grinned. He’d stepped around his desk only to halt when he took in an undeniable development—the baby bump you carried.

“Is-”

“I’m pregnant. Six months along with a baby girl.” You laughed to the apparent disbelief in your father’s light brown eyes. His gaze continued to shift between the bump and your e/c eyes.

“Wow. Sorry, this is...wow.” 

“She’s one of the reasons I wanted to come back. To fix our relationship because I want her to know her grandpa. You’re the only grandparent Poppy will know.” Bobby was quick to tug you into his arms as soon as the first tear dropped down your cheek.

There was so much you wanted to tell your father, but that overwhelming grief rose higher. You’d left Australia where Lucas laid in a plot in a cemetery. You left the friends you’d found in the city. Left the lifeguard job you’d come to love.

“Where are you and your partner staying?”

“He...uh...Lucas passed away recently.”

The arms holding you tightened in response to your confession, “Oh sweetheart.”

“I didn’t know where else to go. I can’t stay in the home we bought. Not the place he died when I couldn’t save him.”

“I don’t know what happened, but it wasn’-”

“Don’t coddle me. I was...am a paramedic. A flight paramedic, to be specific, so I know that my hesitation could be the reason he died.”

Your career took the father by complete and utter surprise because you’d always planned on a different job. Before the fire that claimed so many lives, you’d never entertained a career in the emergency field.

“We have a lot to catch up on. First, you need to know that I’ll always love your mother no matter what, but you need to know. I met someone when I first moved here, and we were friends at first. She divorced her husband. We started dating...sweetheart, I remarried.”

A wave of emotions flared in your chest, from betrayal to sadness and ultimately happiness. Having lost your first love, you understood and knew if love came around for you, you wouldn’t ignore it. Lucas wouldn’t want that.

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

Re-entering into Bobby’s new life was a difficult adjustment for everyone included. Tension had risen between Athena and Bobby for a brief period. Athena hadn’t even been aware of your existence, but she could fault Bobby. Athena had even told her first husband about her late fiance Emmett when they were still together.

It was difficult for you with the new addition of two step-siblings in the same birth order as Brook and Bobby had been. The Grant siblings had welcomed you into the family without any reservations.

“Did you ever get to fly the chopper?” Harry asked as he scrubbed the dirty dish from the Sunday family dinner. 

It was the first dinner that had no awkward tension since you arrived back in the country. Athena had taken a bit to warm up, but it was nothing personal. She’d actually been the one to find you you’d been staying at a hotel. Mama Athena did not like her pregnant step-daughter living at a hotel. She’d actually stormed your room with Hen and Karen as back up to pack your room and leave for the Grant-Nash house.

“No. I had to help keep the patients alive. If I’m telling the truth...sometimes I didn’t even notice I was in the air.” You whispered to your stepbrother. He was just invested in your career as he had been when Bobby first entered their lives.

“That is so cool!” Harry enthused with soap suds splashing your thin knitted sweater. Harry’s mouth formed an ‘o’ when you flicked water onto his face in retaliation.

“Do you know Bondi Beach in Australia?” You inquired the youth with the chore of dishes completed.

“Yeah! There’s a tv show called Bondi Rescue! I watch the clips on YouTube!” Harry exclaimed, hot on your heels to the couch. Out of May and Harry, he followed you around with questions about your life in Australia.

“I was a casual lifeguard. I’m not featured on that show, but I would get called in when a lifeguard was needed. It paired well with my job as a flight paramedic.” You half-smiled, remembering the Bondi lifeguards who had welcomed you into the family. You became one of them when they started pranking you.

“Did you ever see a shark-”

“Harry, go brush your teeth. Leave Y/N alone.” Athena informed her youngest from the open patio doors. Your father, Athena and May had been outside as soon as the table had been cleared.

“But-”

“Harry,” Athena warned the youngest Grant. Harry didn’t attempt to argue with his stern mother; all he did was hug you quickly. You watched the young boy disappear into the hallway.

“He reminds you of your little brother?” Athena questioned. In your time of reminiscing, the older woman had settled in Harry’s previous position.

“A little.” You whispered, “Thank you for welcoming me into the family. For making my dad happy.”

“You know I may have some baby clothes put away if you’d like to use them?” Athena offered with that smile that made you feel at home. Athena was far different from your late mother, with her presence commanding respect and intelligence. Your mom was similar, but I suppose it could be described as a softer touch.

“Anyway, saving a penny is appreciated. I have a question for you also.” You hesitantly started with a bundle of nerves deep in your belly. Athena turned to give you her full attention.

“Well? Out with it.” Athena pushed, but she had a slight feeling of what you were about to ask her.

“My mom was one the strongest women I know. It hurts that my baby won’t get to experience her love and guidance, and you can say no. We’ve only known each other a short time, but would you consider...maybe being a grandma to my baby?”

Giddy was the feeling Athena developed along with the laughing smile that only came from happiness. The woman could only nod her head in response to your hesitant question. To Athena’s knowledge but not yours, Bobby was softly smiling, watching his formerly estranged daughter getting along with your stepmom.

“Oh!” You gasped as your baby kicked hard enough for her foot imprint to be seen through your knitted sweater. 

Bobby was by your side in concern the second he heard your startled sound, but Athena wasn’t that concerned. Athena remembered having the same reaction.

“Are you okay?” Bobby frantically questioned. He faltered when the woman shared a belly-deep laugh at the sheer fear written in the seasoned firefighter’s eyes.

“Poppy was kicking.” You chuckled as your father’s shoulders dropped in relief, “Here.”

Your nimble fingers clasped around your father’s wrist to bring his palm to the spot Poppy was kicking. A certain lightness flooded your entire body, being capable of sharing this experience with Bobby. Watching tears well up in the grandpa to be’s brown eyes.

“Whoa.” Bobby breathlessly spoke as Poppy kicked against his palm. The feeling building in his was exhilarating with the small amount of grief mixed in, “I remember when your mom was pregnant with you. We didn’t know if we were having a girl or boy, but she was adamant you would be a kickboxer. So active.”

Athena watched as the relationship between father and daughter started healing directly in front of her eyes. The Sergeant was about to give you two some privacy when you caught her hand in your free one.

“Here.” You informed the older woman shifting to place her hand where your father’s hand had previously been. Your e/c eyes sought the wonder-filled different shades of brown eyes the couple had.

“You should get some sleep,” Athena spoke, staring at her hand resting on your bump. Her dark chocolate brown rising to find your gaze, “You won’t be getting a lot once she arrives.”

Bobby and Athena watched as you turned the corner to the spare room Athena’s parents used when they visited. For the time being, you’ve moved into the room, and the Grant-Nash house hoped you would stay. May had always wanted a sister, and Harry loved all the stories you told about Australia.

“You know, at some point, you’ll have to talk to her.”

“I just was-’

“-without anyone else being the buffer. Bobby, both your lives is evidence enough that some things are too trivial to stress over.” Athena pinned her stern gaze on her husband. The same husband is actively trying to avoid her penetrating gaze.

“What I did-’

“Is in the past, Bobby. You have a second chance with that wonderful woman in that bedroom and our grandchild. Now, are you sure that having the party at the firehouse is okay?”

A hand supported the base of your back where an ache tended to stay for most of the day. That ache wasn’t the worst symptom of your pregnancy. You had heartburn constantly that tied with unfortunate constipation that had thankfully lessened. Your purse always had a cardigan for the hot flashes as well.

“Perfect! May has my car, and Bobby needed that.” Athena beamed from the open bay of the 118. One of the firefighters, Eddie, if you recalled, snagged your purse and the specific ingredient for a recipe.

“You could have borrowed Bobby’s-”

“His vehicle is in the shop Buck.” Athena interrupted the only member of the 118 you had let to officially meet.

Now there were two suspects of the sudden shortness of breath you started experiencing. It could be Poppy in the limited space in your body or the handsome firefighter. Buck had to be hands down none of the most attractive men you’d ever encountered. His dark blonde hair had minimal height, but the soft waves made your fingers itch to feel it. His ocean blue eyes crinkled at the corners with mirth.

“Ah, so you’re flesh and blood of Cap?” Buck questioned from in front of you. His blue eyes centred solely on you, with half a mind thanking himself that he could navigate the station blindfolded in the dark.

“For the last twenty-seven years, I have been.” You retorted, stopping at the edge of the stairs to the apparatus. Your keen sense of smell catching one of your favourite meals your father had dug up from the recipes he hadn’t used in years.

A zing of electricity trailed off your arm when a calloused palm met yours. Your e/c eyes followed the path of tan skin until it reached the shirt sleeve of Buck’s t-shirt. The shirt emblazoned on the chest with the department’s insignia. The man in the casual uniform guided you safely up the stairs with his hand on your back.

The pressure of Buck’s hand on your aching back muscle nearly brought what would be an embarrassing moan from your lips. Thankfully a gasp of surprise fell out instead at the banner hanging with other decorations.

“What?” You choked, cupping your hands to your face. Pure unadulterated shock and affection flooded every inch of you.

The entire 118 squad intermixed with their loved ones surrounded the open area with grins. On a table behind everyone was many wrapped gifts. But the cake was the most impressive.

A large rectangular cake in the realistic shape of a fire engine parked in front of a fire hydrant with a fondant hose going to the truck. On top of the fire truck was the turnout boots next to the matching helmet, the 118 proudly on it. You adored the turnout coat draping off the top to hang off the side.

“If you look at the helmet, it says Poppy.” Buck enthused, guiding you even closer to catch the immaculate cake, “It has to be the best cake we’ve gotten from them.”

“Hey, my rebar head cake was phenomenal!” Chimney called with a belying grin on his face. His hand encased by a brunette woman about his height with her heels on.

“It’s a long story.” Buck offered as soon as you gave him a weird questioning look, “Let me introduce you to everyone!”

For the next five minutes, you spend it by meeting the family of 118, including Eddie’s completely adorable son. Christopher was happy to sit next to you as soon as Harry had found you. Slowly the others came closer to hear the stories.

“What’re the most common injuries on the beach?” Denny, Hen and Karen’s ten-year-old son questioned.

“Bluebottle Jellyfish stings. On one day, we had hundreds of people come to the tower for stings, and the treatment for the minor ones is stingose spray and ice.”

“My question is how a girl from Minnesota is a lifeguard in Australia. Especially on Sydney’s most dangerous beach.” Chimney inserted, waving his bottle of pop at you, his eyes kept moving towards the wine Maddie brought.

Unfortunately, the 118 wouldn’t be celebrating with the wine until their shifts ended in a few short hours. It was a damn miracle they hadn’t been called out yet.

“This former Minnesotan spent summers at my best friend’s parents’ place in Cali as a lifeguard. Also, Bondi is not the most dangerous beach in Sydney. That’s Tamarama.” You pointed towards the man who raised his hands in surrender.

“Have you ever seen a dead body?” Harry asked, bringing a sobering silence in the question’s wake.

Your body language changed as soon as he asked, “Unfortunately, I’ve seen death as a paramedic and as a lifeguard.”

“You’re a paramedic? I thought you were just a lifeguard?” Buck asked, interested in the new information. Buck could feel his Captain’s eyes on the back of his head; he was sure Bobby could smell the attraction on Buck.

“Casual lifeguard. Called when needed as a backup.” You turned your e/c eyes towards the arguably youngest member of the 118.

“How many dead-”

“Harry.” Athena warned her son from continuing a topic that killed the ease and happiness you’d shown previously, “Why don’t we stop talking about-”

“Too many, Harry.” You interrupted your stepmom with a gentle smile towards the woman, “It’s not just drowning that claims lives but also the cliffs surrounding the beaches. Lifeguards patrol more than the beaches and water. Lifeguards respond to medical emergencies, mostly spinal until the paramedics arrive.”

“Oh-”

“I had a fellow lifeguard leave the job because of the suicides we deal with.”

“...who wants cake?” Karen used the quiet interlude of the much too serious topic for a group of kids barely in the double digits of ages. All referenced children followed Hen’s life to the beautiful baked creation.

“Sorry for getting dark there.”

“We all know the dark side of the jobs we chose to do. You sound like you miss Australia. Are you going to return there?” Eddie questioned with one eye pinned on his son, consuming more sugar than he wished.

Eddie’s question did raise self-doubt, but you knew that ultimately living in Australia was no longer a viable option. 

“There’s nothing there for me.”

Eddie, Buck and your father understood that mentality to a ‘t’ with family complications keeping them away. Your father for obvious reasons, whereas Eddie and Buck each had a living family with opinions only they saw right.

“You’re always welcome here. Especially when you bring that little cutie to the firehouse.” Maddie cooed towards your baby bump. The 911 dispatcher had asked many questions about your pregnancy.

 Maddie was the type of person who could make a stranger feel like they had known for their entire lives.

“Here.”

A plate of the cake was thrust in front of your face courtesy of Maddie’s brother Buck. It is quite literally the perfect size you could ask for. In his other hand, he had a new bottle of water waiting for you to grab.

“Thank you, Buck.” Your shock must have shown in your voice when his cheeks flushed.

“This whole party is a celebration for you, so you shouldn’t have to get up...unless you want to!” Buck rushed to respond, getting more flustered with the amused look of his older sister on him, “You’re already doing something absolutely amazing, so you should get to rela-”

“Buck!” You laughed, ending the older man’s rambling thoughts. The entire party attendees had started watching Buck’s failed smooth attempt.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Buck mutely nodded in response, “No prob-”

The bell was the one to interrupt him instead. The on-duty firefighters rushed down from the upper levels to the lockers. The swift suiting up impressed you as it was like you blinked, and the bay was empty.

“Should be the last call before they get off shift.” Maddie, still occupied with the cake she was eating, “That wine looks so good!”

Your attention snapped from the vacant spots the 118 vehicles parked to the woman ploughing down on the cake. Sure it was good, but not that good. Maybe you could tell as a pregnant woman, or perhaps you just caught some of the symptoms you felt.

“How far along are you?”

Maddie froze, “What are you talk-”

“You’re pregnant, right?”

“Don’t tell anyone. Chim and I found out recently, but we want to wait on telling people. Once the first trimester is over, everyone can know.” Maddie pleaded with two hands cupped under her chin in a prayer position. The pretty brunette using the puppy dog eyes on the new friend she’d made.

“You should tell Buck-”

“We will once we enter the safe zone. So tell me about your baby’s father.” Maddie swiftly changed the subject, unaware of the ache developing in your midsection.

“Lucas Gowan.” You mussed, recalling the freckled half Australian half Scots man with the thick red locks.

“Ooh, is he still in Australia?”

“Technically, he is. I met him at the grocery store near the university campus. I’d transferred to escape my grief. It was purely an attraction at first sight before developing into love at first sight. We convocated and moved into a cosy little place. We’d only just found out about the baby when Lucas passed away.”

As you told Maddie, your hand had moved to cradle the only remaining piece of Lucas. 

“His death was unexpected and sudden. He’d taken a run the morning of our scan to find out baby Gowan’s gender. He fell off the side of the cliff. I was told he died instantly. The investigator believes his shoelace untied, and he stepped on it. Fell right off the side.”

“I’m so sorry.” Maddie breathed, leaning closer to hold your hands in her own, “He’d be so proud of you. For returning to the states. Do you keep in contact with his family?”

“He was an only child. Parents died in a car accident when he was ten years old. He was in foster care until he aged out of the system. Poppy is named after his mom.”

Maddie instinctively knew talking about Lucas was, “You know you get along pretty well with Buck... I’ve never seen him so flustered.”

“Maddie, I can tell you are a very intelligent woman, but you’re wrong here. Why would a guy like Buck be interested in a pregnant woman with a reconciling relationship with her father and his Captain while grieving her baby’s dad?”

Maddie tilted her head to the side, “Because I know my brother. He’s only ever had that look when I first moved to LA. Back when Abby was still important to him.”

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

Maddie’s mouth opened to speak, but you were saved by the bell when Athena called you over for pictures. Then her attempts got thwarted once more when the 118 returned to the house perfectly synced to the end of shift.

“Driving here was the last time until the baby’s here. You’ve got precious cargo-”

“I’m seven months pregnant; I can still drive. There’s no law saying I can’t-”

Never argue with Athena Grant-Nash, “It may not be illegal, but I won’t endanger my daughter or my granddaughter.”

“I have to get to my OB/GYN appointment tomorrow. You and Dad each have a long shift during my scheduled appointment. Harry is both too young to drive and in school. May has a shift at dispatch. There’s literally no one available to take me.”

Bobby watched as two of the most important women in his life argued over something as trivial as driving. Harry shook at listening to someone fighting against his mother; she could be terrifying.

“I can take her.”

Everyone in the fir house turned to the voice who’d offered suddenly and found the sheepish form of a tall firefighter. Eddie’s eyebrows raised at his best friend.

“I don’t work tomorrow. I’ve got no plans. Albert’s got some date with a girl at her place.”

“I couldn’t put you out.”

“You need a ride, and I’ll be bored, so why not take my new friend to her baby doctor.”

“Baby doctor?” Hen parroted to her wife in astonishment towards her coworker and close friend. Both the women found the blatant flirting from Buck to the soon to be mother.

“She’ll take you up on the offer. She’s staying in our guest room. Come early for breakfast before you go. We’ll be having waffles.”

Buck found any excuse to visit the Grant-Nash home with the motive to hang out with you ever since the baby shower. From delivering baked goods from your favourite bakery to insisting on driving you to appointments. Didn’t matter if Athena or Bobby could take you; Buck was adamant he drove you.

The friendship was easy going and very natural, like a ball glove still moulded perfectly to your hand. The hangouts in your home evolved to weekly visits to restaurants with guidelines to the current event happening worldwide. 

Ultimately it even led to a test date.

“You look breathtaking.” Buck breathlessly informed you once he’d gently pushed your chair closer to the table.

“Thank you.” You kindly responded despite thinking the complete opposite to the charming man sitting across from you.

Athena and May had helped you get ready for the date with calming words on how going on a date so far into the pregnancy was okay. Then, your father had tentatively inserted himself with sage advice on re-entering the dating scene.

“I thought we could grab some ice cream after,” Buck spoke up as soon as the waiter had taken your drink order. Buck had decided to refrain from alcohol and went with glasses of lemonade and water.

“You shouldn’t say that. I’ll just want ice cream.” You snickered, caressing the taut belly you’d grown to love. In fact, the firm push of a heel announced Poppy’s agreement with ice cream as dessert.

“How is Poppy?”

“The doc says she’s right on track. Healthy all around and in the position, she’s supposed to be at this stage.” Buck adored the affectionate smile that always appeared when the topic of your pregnancy was brought up.

“That’s amazing! Bobby gushes about you and Poppy. The fridge has an entire door dedicated to sonograms of Poppy. Even a few from that maternity shoot Hen and Maddie surprised you with.”

A few weeks had passed since the baby shower the 118 had surprised you with. Maddie had announced her pregnancy to the joy of the chosen family she had. Bobby had put together a crib he had painted. Michael, Athena’s ex-husband, had started making plans for adding on to the house for a room for the baby.

Despite informing the architect, you planned on moving out when you had saved enough, he’d made a sound argument. Athena would want a place for the baby to stay when you visited, or the woman demanded to babysit.

Now you found yourself in a National forest not far from Los Angeles, posing in front of nature. A surprise photoshoot Hen and Karen had organized with Karen’s brother Trey. Maddie and Athena had been the ones who drove you.

“Hold the teddy bear on your bump,” Trey informed you from behind his professional and intimidating camera. The photographer praised you in the rapid movement to listen to his offer.

“Hey! Maddie! You should take a few photos. I need a pee break.” You didn’t wait for Maddie to respond in your rush to the somewhat rustic bathroom hut.

By the time you returned, Maddie was taking a couple pictures. Then you took some with Athena to have on the nursery walls and for Bobby to have a photo for his desk.

“Now one with all three of you.”

Present

“So a daredevil.” You stated unsurprised that the firefighter had a history of recklessness. You don’t go into firefighting without a taste for danger.

“The bruises and blood fit better than the awful bleached hair during my time in Peru.” Buck laughed, recalling the questionable choice in his fashion pre-firefighting. Sometimes he missed the people he encountered in his period of self-discovery.

“You didn’t wear puka sh-”

“I did. Bleached hair, puka shells and Hawaiian shirts were my staples during my bartending years. I fit in with the aesthetic of the bar I tended.”

“Buck!” You nearly gasped at his raw honesty. Buck didn’t hold back any answers to your questions, but you each strayed from the topic of family.

Talking about the tragic family history wasn’t a good idea on the first time regardless of the time you’d known each other.

“You’re telling me-” Buck halted as soon as he caught the flash of discomfort flicker over your beautiful features, “Are you okay?”

“She shifted. Been sitting on my blad-” You cut yourself off with a hiss of pain. Buck’s eyes widened at the pain taking over your features, “Oh, that hurt.”

Buck went straight into work mode, “Have you been in pain for long?”

“No. A few cramps here and there today, but my doctor said it was nothing to worry about.” You informed the experienced first responder resting level to your knees.

Buck didn’t want to say it, but he was sure that you’d gone into early labour. There was no indication your water had broken, but he kept over the last hour together. Every once in a while, you shifted or pressed a hand to your bump.

“Has your water broken?”

You shook your head, “No, but...oh... that’s not a cramp.”

With that statement out, you clenched your fingers tight on the edge of the table as pain rippled in your belly. A contraction that stole your breath momentarily. In your contraction, Buck had dialled 911. Buck recalled that sometimes a woman’s water doesn't break until right before the birth.

“We’re not getting that ice cream, are we?” You snorted upon being lifted onto the gurney. How fortunate or unfortunate you were to have the 118 right there.

Hen had taken a position at your feet to check on your lower body while Chimney took your vital signs. You honestly didn’t like the look Hen and Chimney shared with Buck.

“What is it?”

“We’re gonna need to deliver here.” Hen sighed, giving you the facts that terrified you. When you envisioned having the baby, it was in a medical centre. Not in a restaurant.

“My office is large and away from the crowd if you want. I can show you the way.” Sophie, the restaurant manager, offered already starting to lead the way. Sophie would never know how thankful you felt for being able to have privacy.

“Okay, Y/N, is it okay if I check how dilated you -.” Hen breathed with her hand, gently disappearing until the thin blanket Chimney procured from the stocked ambulance, “Y/N when I saw I want you to do that.”

Hen didn’t need to check your dilation when she could see the baby’s head already.

“I’m right here.” Buck cooed in your ear. He had held your hand as his coworkers did their jobs around you.

“This isn’t the way I envisioned you seeing my pu-”

“Push.” Hen urged, cutting off your almost vulgar language, but it eased the tension in the small restaurant office. You couldn’t even see Buck’s flustered reaction as you bore down with the contraction, “Good! Take a breath.”

“You’re a strong woman. It never ceases to amaze me the strength women have.” Buck spoke, keeping your e/c eyes on his blue ones. His hand raised to push a strand of your sweaty hair off your temple.

“Once more push!” Hen called out just in time with the last contraction. The feeling of the pressure between your legs popping was moan inducing.

Poppy was silent. Your entire body froze, yearning for the sweet sound of crying instead of the eerie silence. The world stood still as Chimney worked on your baby girl.

“Pulse is strong,” Chimney announced, keeping his attention on the task of clearing Poppy’s throat and nose. And that sweet sound of crying commenced, “Congratulations Y/N, you have a beautiful baby girl. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

Your father beat the ambulance to the nearest ER in pure anticipation at meeting his granddaughter Poppy Nash Gowan. He barely noticed as Buck stuck to your side like glue. Bobby waited outside the door as you got checked over in the room.

“Quite the first date.” You mused towards Buck, who hovered in awe over the life form you had carried for nine months. You’d been pregnant for three quarters of an entire year to his fascination. 

“All my meaningful relationships started with a medical emergency.” Buck finally looked up at you. He’d kept Poppy company in the bassinet while you delivered the afterbirth upon entering the hospital.

“Seriously?”

“Had a tracheostomy on Valentine’s Day with Abby, an earthquake with Ali and a newscaster in a crashed helicopter.” Buck listed off. He hadn’t even noticed scooping the newborn into his arms until he’d sat in the chair by your bed, “Why not add a sudden labour and delivery.”

“He would have liked you.”

The sentence came out of absolutely nowhere. Almost like something had ripped it out of your vocal cords. At the look of confusion, you elaborated.

“Lucas. He would have liked you. I think if it is possible, he might have pushed me into meeting you. I’ll still need to take it slow, but I’d like to give this a shot.”

That was all Buck needed to lean in closer to kiss you—the first of many kisses.

Some might disagree on how quick your relationship with Buck developed, but they didn’t know yours at all. It was natural with the firefighter who stepped into the role of father figure for a growing Poppy. By the time Poppy was one, you’d moved into a house not far from your father’s place with Buck. By the time Poppy was three, a pretty ring had sat on your finger. By five, the young girl had a baby brother. 

“Your parents spoil Poppy.”

“You say that like you didn’t crawl into her crib during her afternoon naps.” You deadpanned towards your husband. Buck had the nerve to sheepishly grin, “You give in each time she says ‘pwetty pwease’ for a cookie.”

“It’s a crime to make her sad!” Buck defended himself, but a grin of amusement threatened his act, “Besides, you crack each time too!”

“Mhm. Just wait until Theo can talk.” You pressed a kiss to the sleeping infant strapped into the baby carrier. Theodore Robert Buckley could fall asleep in a thunderstorm if he was in Buck’s arms.

“Oh! Maddie wants to have Poppy over for a play date. Madster’s been begging for her cousin to have a sleepover.”

Maddie and Chimney’s daughter was only a few months younger than your daughter, but the two were thick as thieves. Buck had referred to the Han daughter as Madster with how similar her mannerisms were to her mother.

“Think they’d take the rascal?”

“Is this code for you wanting to have another?” Buck questioned with a twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes. The same blue Theo had inherited along with a birthmark like Buck’s on his bicep.

“I-” You choked, blinking furiously, “Evan, I pushed Theo out of my body barely three months ago!”

Buck inconspicuously winked in response with the sudden scream of excitement coming from Poppy. The rambunctious five-year-old ploughed into Buck’s legs full force. Falling into the practised ease, you’d unstrapped Theo from Buck’s chest and promptly had his tiny body stolen into his grandpa’s arms.

“There’s my boy.” Bobby cooed to the sleep drunk tiny infant. The little baby is crowded by his Gram Athena and Aunt May, “Gonna have to get you a Minnesota Wilds jersey.”

“Hell no. That boy is LA born and bred. He’ll be wearing a Kings jersey like the civilized.” Michael announced with the sudden arrival of Theo and Poppy’s Uncle Harry.

“Mommy? When are we going to Stralia?” Poppy inquired from right beside your leg. Her tiny handheld is the giant one of her dad.

“In a few weeks. Are you excited to see the mommy’s old friends again?”

“Hm. Can we see Dada?”

Buck may be Poppy’s father, but he’d never let Poppy go without knowing she had two fathers in all. Her first one waiting to meet here decades from the time she was born and solely referenced Lucas as Dada. Buck was grateful for the man who brought Poppy into existence; the little green-eyed tot Buck could never regret. Unlike Buck’s parents keeping his older brother’s existence a secret, the firefighter refused to follow in their footsteps. He’d continue to shower the late Lucas in gratitude and respect. He refused to make the same mistakes as Phillip and Margaret Buckley.

“Of course. C’mon Poppy, time to say goodbye.” Buck guided the little girl to the extended family showering her little brother with love. The little girl was quickly swung into Bobby’s arms, and Athena cooing at your infant son.

Changes. The six-letter word doesn’t have to be terrifying. It can be breathtaking, memorable and beautiful to experience. 

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...oops |rowaelin month- day 5|

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an: i had a dream about this and i kind of hate the ending buttt enjoy! :)

word count: 3,988

~~

“You did what?” 

It wouldn’t take a genius to note that twenty one year- old Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was fuming. And it would have been to no one’s surprise if the princess herself brought the very palace down in flames herself in a matter of moments. 

The Queen of Terrasen sighed and with a small shake of her head, daintily placed her teacup on the table in front of her. With her hands crossed in her lap, she turned her blue gaze to her daughter’s twin one, this one holding a fire many would cower from despite the girl’s young age. But it seemed that Evalin Ashryver feared no one but the gods, and she faced her daughter’s seeth head-on. 

“Fireheart-” 

“An arranged marriage? I wasn’t aware I was a doll who’s life you can just play with. Is this top okay or would you like to change me into a new pretty dress?”

Evalin merely rolled her eyes at her only daughter, allowing her to rant and fume as she pleased for what seemed like hours before the princess finally collapsed into the chair beside her, blue in the face and a vein popping out of her forehead. 

“Fireheart,” she began again, this time gentler. “You have to understand, your father and I are simply doing what we believe is best for the country. For our people.”

“By selling me away? I’m not a child anymore mother, and I can make my own decisions just fine.” The anger had vanished, now replaced by a look of utter despair in the princess’ eyes as she gazed at her mother, an attempt to delay what she knew was inevitable.

“We know that Aelin, of course we do, and we would never do anything to purposefully hurt you. Terrasen is… is struggling right now, my love. You may be our only hope.” 

The look in her mother’s eyes settled something in her chest and she realized there would be no fighting this- although she most certainly would try. Her parents were set on an arranged marriage for the Princess of Terrasen. 

And as she stormed through the door of her chambers, Aelin’s thoughts settled on one in particular.

The Prince of Doranelle better be handsome.

~~

The Wild Princess of Terrasen, they called her.

Well- Aelin thought as she gunned the Corvette through the streets of the capital- if they wanted a wild princess, a wild princess is what they would get. 

She remembered a time where her mother had rolled her eyes when her daughter had told her she wanted a Corvette for her sixteenth birthday. She didn’t even have a license, and she would never be driving herself, so what good would it do?

Aelin smirked. Apparently they were perfect for fits of rage. 

She vaguely remembered a few lessons Brullo had given her when she had managed to bribe the grumpy body guard with cookies enough for him to teach her how to drive- unbeknownst to her mother, of course. Aelin bet that Evalin Ashryver would just about have a heart attack if she knew her daughter could drive.

Aelin swerved into the left lane without her turn signal, earning an angry honk and a few unkind words from the car behind her.

Well- sort of knew how to drive. 

Oops, she thought. From then on, she turned her speed down just a bit. 

As Aelin careened through the streets of Terrasen, she realized that as a princess, she truly had been deprived of her own country. Sure, she had been escorted through the streets during the annual parade, and her father used to take her to Malakai’s for her favorite cake every once in a while, but the streets she drove through now were unknown to her. 

She passed jogging college kids and mothers with strollers and toddlers, couples holding hands and homeless people that scattered some of the streets. The sight made her heart clench and her knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. 

Aelin was so focused on the people around her, she forgot to look forward as she drove through a glaring red light. Luckily there were barely any other cars around her, and the only indication that she had done something wrong came from a distinctly aggravated male voice screaming, “What the fu-”

“Shit!” 

Aelin slammed her foot down on the breaks as her gaze came into contact with a man in front of her- she was going full speed towards him as she tried crossing the cross walk. The car came to a screeching halt directly in front of him, but the momentum proved to be too much as the Corvette did in fact make contact with him.

She thought time slowed down as the man went shooting to the ground with a groan of pain. 

Yes, she had just hit a man with her car.

But her mother was going to absolute assassinate her. 

Another loud groan from outside the window had Aelin shoving the car into park and flying out to the man in front of her, heart in her throat. 

As she took in the man, she wondered what the odds were of hitting a person with your car and having them be one of the most attractive people you’ve ever seen. Pretty low, Aelin would think, but like everything else in her life, statistics did not seem to be on her side.

The man was clearly young, maybe a few years older than her, and even though he wore a thick winter jacket to protect him from the Terrasen winter, he was clearly built like a greek god. With silver hair almost matching the snow around him and tan skin that signaled to Aelin he clearly wasn’t from around here, the man could have been on the front page of any popular magazine. 

“Fuck!” 

Aelin kneeled down beside the man who was thankfully still conscious, face scrunched up in pain and clear anger. It made him look older, she thought as she finally looked at his eyes. They were a stunning green. She wanted to hit herself with her car. Of course they were. 

“A-are you okay?” She helped him up, placing a hand on his lower back and pushing him up until he sat forward enough until he could support himself.

The man glared at her, teeth clenched in pain as his gaze burned into her own.

“Are you crazy?” he growled, his voice even deeper than Aelin thought it would have been. “Am I okay? You just hit me with your fucking car!” 

Aelin jerked her hand away from him, suddenly defensive. “Look, I am so sorry. I- I wasn’t looking where I was driving and-”

The man scoffed. “Obviously.” 

Aelin saw red. 

“Well what the fuck were you doing on a crosswalk two seconds before the light turned red? You had plenty of time to move out of the way and you’re blaming me because you couldn’t look around?” 

It was moments like these where Aelin realized why Elide’s fiancee liked to call her ‘fire breathing bitch queen.’ Sure, she could acknowledge it. She had just hit the guy with her car, and Aelin had foung a way to blame him. 

“Maybe if you had been less careless about crashing Daddy’s car you would have been a bit more careful and we wouldn’t be here right now, Princess.” 

Aelin almost slapped him, if not for the derogatory way her title slipped through his tongue. And that was when she realized that he had no idea who she was. The man in front of her didn’t look like an idiot. He wouldn’t be insulting her if he knew who she was. And Aelin realized she didn’t want him to know. Not as the words that spilled through her lips could ruin her entire legacy.

“Watch it.” The words were low and dangerous, and something flashed in the man’s eyes that signaled to her than he had caught the anger lacing her tone. “You don’t know shit about me.”

“I don’t think I need to. Nor do I care enough to want to.”

“Well you’re clearly fine, if you can spew ridiculous insults out of your head at the drop of a dime,” Aelin deadpanned. “So, can we wrap this up?” 

“Gladly.” He made to get up, placing his weight on his arm as he pushed himself upward, cutting off with a loud gasp of pain before sinking back to the ground, his green eyes alight with agony. The sight made a pang shoot through Aelin’s chest and she grabbed his arm to steady him before his momentum his head careening toward the ground. 

“Shit, we need to take you to the hospital.” She rose, already on her way back to the car.

“No way am I going anywhere with you.” 

“That’s fine.” Aelin’s smile was purely saccharine. “You can stay here if you’d like. It’s supposed to drop to -10 in a few hours when the sun goes down but you look pretty toasty to me. Of course, your fingers will fall off before the ambulance gets here, so it’s really give or take.”

The man growled and rubbed a large hand through his hair.

“So what do you say, Superman?” Aelin gestured to the car behind her. “What’s the worst that can happen? I already hit you with my car today.” 

If the tone of his voice was any indication, the man was in enough pain to barely put up a fight.

“Fine. But get into another accident and I’m calling the police.”

Aelin almost laughed. Little did he know that she owned the police.

It was only during the awkwardly silent drive to the hospital that Aelin realized the workers at the hospital would recognize her, and then the man beside her would. The thought put a sour taste in Aelin’s mouth. She liked fighting with this man- liked the fact that he treated her with the same amount of respect he would anyone who hit him with their car. Even if he was an infuriating prick of a man. 

“Alright,” she pulled the car into park. “Here we are.” The man grunted in acknowledgment.

Surprisingly enough, the ER was close to empty on the Thursday evening and Aelin was grateful that it meant fewer people would recognize her. Who knew how the paparazzi would react if they saw their crown princess in the ER with an unknown man. 

As if her ‘issues’ weren’t plastered in the tabloids enough already. 

Aelin hadn’t realized how tall the man was until he was standing solidly behind her at the check-in desk. He was close enough that she could feel him at her back and she swore her shoulder had bumped below his own. Gods, he was strong.

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts, and turned to the man at the desk. 

“Hi um, I’m here to check in a patient.” If the way the man swallowed was any indication, said patient was glaring daggers from beside her. He turned to the monitor in front of him and began typing something into the computer.

“And, what’s the reason for your visit today?”

Aelin cleared her throat. “Just- just a checkup. He had a bit of a fall, we just wanted to make sure everything is okay.” She felt what must have been a scoff from behind her but ignored it. The man nodded without looking at her or stopping his typing.

“Okay,” he finally said after a few moments of silence. He handed a clipboard to Aelin holding a few pieces of obvious paperwork. “Fill this out and give it back to me when you’re done. It’s a slow day so you should be able to meet with the doctor in just a second.” Aelin nodded, thanking the man and making her way to the empty seats across the desk, dragging her silver-haired friend with her until he collapsed into the seat beside her with a huff. 

She ignored him in favor of flicking through the paperwork as casually as she could, attempting to not draw attention to the fact that she clearly knew none of the personal information about the man beside her.

Aelin leaned close to him and almost rolled her eyes when he leaned significantly away.

“Hey,” she whispered. She watched as he rolled his eyes.

“What?”

“What’s your name?” he leveled her with a confused look and she held up the paperwork. But really, what kind of an idiot hit someone with their car and didn’t ask for their name. Aelin was such an idiot. Such an-

“Rowan.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s Rowan.” She raised a brow,

“Rowan…?”

“Whitethorn.” Rowan Whitethorn. The name sent a pang of familiarity through her and Aelin struggled to ruffle through her mind to find where she had heard it before. 

“What do you do for work?” The question was out of her mouth before she could berate herself for how stupid it was. His eyebrows shot up to the top of his head.

“Is that on the form?” his voice was defensive but Aelin shrugged nonetheless and Rowan sighed before running a hand through his hair. “Let’s say I’m involved with politics.” 

Aelin grimaced. Maybe that was why her mind had blocked out his name. Anyone involved with any kind of politics was automatically dislikeable in Aelin’s eyes. She had been around enough politicians to recognize their slimy exterior. 

Rowan clearly noticed her face and scowled at her. “Well not all of us have a choice in our future just because we’re young and irresponsible.” Like you, was what he didn’t have to say. Aelin wanted to kick him. If only he knew. Instead, she rolled her eyes and looked back at the sheet in front of her.

“Date of birth?”

“December 8, 1995.” Aelin almost dropped her pencil but instead turned to Rowan, surprised to find him already looking at her.

“Seriously? You’re twenty- five?”

“What’s your point?”

“All of the high and mighty, ‘I’m your elder’ attitude and you’re only four years older than me.” She shook her head and turned back to the form, ignoring the glare she could feel burning into her skull and trying her best not to think about how good Rowan smelled from beside her. She never would have thought that the scent of pine could be so intoxicating. 

“Place of birth?”

“Doranelle.” Aelin wondered if he knew anything of the infamous prince she was to marry. She really should have done some more research before storming out of the palace. 

“Height?”

“6’ 4”.” 

“Any allergies?”

“Blondes.” Aelin ignored that one. 

“Any family history of fatal medical issues?”

“No.”

“Type and reason for pain?” 

“An irritation in my head from the woman beside me.” 

Aelin threw her pen at him and watched as he winced before looking at her with wide annoyed eyes. But she frankly didn’t give a fuck anymore. She could have let him freeze to death outside and here he was complaining about her.

“You know, this whole thing would be a lot easier if you weren’t such a prick.”

“Actually this whole thing would be a lot easier if you hadn’t-”

Rowan was cut off by the clearing of a throat in front of them, signaling someone had come through the door. The two had been too preoccupied with one another to even notice the doctor standing in front of them. 

She’s beautiful, with cinnamon skin and curly hair, and she wears an amused smile on her face as she looks between the two. Aelin and Rowan automatically calm themselves into an acceptable demeanor and Aelin stands to shake hands with the doctor in front of them, handing her the unfinished paperwork.

“Alright, Mr… Whitethorn. I’m Doctor Towers and I’ll be helping you out here today. Why don’t you come back here with me and we can check you out.” Rowan stood up to follow her out of the room before Doctor Towers turned back to look at Aelin. “You can come too, Mrs. Whitethorn. We’ll probably need you to clear a few things up.”

Aelin hated the blush that sprang to her cheeks at the implication that she could be married to Rowan, and she almost laughed. As if she could ever marry someone like him. Their protests are cut off by the creaking of the door and neither Aelin nor Rowan bothers to correct the doctor as she leads them to a section of the hospital filled with open hospital beds and shitty curtains for ‘privacy.’

Pulling one shut, Doctor Towers gestures for Rowan to sit on the bed. Once he does, she leans back on her heels and pulls out her own clipboard. 

“Okay, what seems to be the problem today?”

They’re silent for a moment, both looking at each other with wide eyes, not knowing what to say. Eventually, Aelin clears her throat. 

“Um, we had a bit of an accident-”

“I would hardly call it an ‘accident.’ She-”

“He decided to walk through a crosswalk during a green light and-”

“You hit me with your car!” 

It seemed the entire hospital went silent for a moment before sound resumed once more and Aelin allowed her head to fall into her hands.

“It wasn’t like that. I-”

“You slammed straight into me!”

“I barely knicked you!” 

Doctor Towers had been watching the sparring match between the two with wide eyes, clearly still hung up on the fact that he had been hit by a car and was still alive. It took a moment before she shook her head and scribbled a few things down on her piece of paper. 

“I hate to ask this,” she cleared her throat. “Was this- um, a crime of passion?”

Aelin and Rowan stared at her blankly before turning to each other, both confused. She tried again.

“I mean- when a wife hits her husband with a car-” Realizing what she was implying, Aelin and Rowan were quick with their rebuttals. 

“She’s not-”

“I’m not his wife!”

“Most definitely not-”

“As if I’d ever marry this prick-”

“I would rather hit myself with a car than voluntarily pledge myself to her.” 

Aelin rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her defensively. “Now that’s a little dramatic.” 

“Well, you did hit me with a car.” If Aelin didn’t know any better, she would say that it almost looked like amusement twisted his lips. 

“You’re never gonna get over that, are you?” 

“Not likely.” 

Doctor Towers cleared her throat from beside them, causing the two to snap their gazes back to her. Whatever they found there had them shut their mouths like scolded children.

“So…” she arched a brow. “It was an accident?”

Rowan nodded while Aelin muttered, “Unfortunately.” 

Doctor Towers ignored the comment in favor of looking at Aelin closely. She watched in despair as it clicked in her head who exactly was standing in front of her and Aelin found herself holding her breath. But surprisingly enough, the doctor said nothing, simply turning to Rowan with a knowing look.

“So Mr. Whitethorn, what hurts?”

“Besides everything?” Rowan grimaced as he circled his shoulder. “Mostly my shoulder. I don’t know if I pulled it today specifically, but it’s been bothering me for a while. I think today just aggravated it.” 

“It could be a stress fracture,” she mused. “Has anything happened recently in your life that could have caused your anxiety and stress levels to shoot up? It could be anything really from, an increase in work to a big change or big news…”

Rowan let out what Aelin assumed was some sort of laugh. She ignored the shiver it sent down her spine.

“You could say that.” 

Doctor Towers didn’t press for more information, merely nodded and wrote something down before looking at Rowan again.

“The only solution I can really offer you right now is to ice it as often as you can for about eight to ten weeks, and it should heal on its own. No cast necessary.”

“Really?” Aelin exclaimed, unable to hold back the relief in her voice. Maybe her mother wouldn’t kill her after all. “That’s great.” 

“It is,” Doctor Towers gazed at her through a knowing smile and narrowed eyes. “Just try not to hit people with your car anymore Pr-, ma’am.” Aelin almost laughed at the comment, even more at the mistake she had almost made, but instead nodded with a small smile.

“I’ll see what I can do.” 

Turning to Rowan, Aelin found him already watching her, a strange look on his face as he gazed between the two women. He opened his mouth to speak when the door to the ER burst open, and the Queen herself strutted through.

Aelin thought that if a look could set a flame, she would be ashes by now. 

She felt herself pale as her mother walked toward her on near-silent footsteps, leaving citizens bowing in her wake. But the Queen only had eyes for her daughter. Very angry eyes. 

“Aelin Ashryver Galathynius,” she hissed, and Aelin tried not to cringe. “You are in so much trouble young lady.” Aelin opened her mouth to defend herself. “Sneaking out, close to Yulemas in fact, when crime rates are highest, stealing a car-”

“It’s not stealing if it’s mine-” Her mouth snapped shut at the look her mother gave her. 

“You’ll come to learn Aelin, that as future queen of this country, you have a status to uphold. You have an image- a reputation, one that should not include sneaking out of the palace unsupervised and ending up in the ER.” 

She felt the words like a stab to the heart. Aelin knew the last thing her mother wanted to do was hurt her, especially with her words. But Aelin felt the truth of them to the bottom of her toes, and she was swept into a tidal wave of disappointment in herself. No wonder her parents wanted to marry her off. Of course she couldn’t lead a country on her own.

“Mother, I’m sorry I snuck out. I was just so upset with you. And do you think I meant to end up in the ER? I hit him with my car for Gods sake! I couldn’t just-”

“You’re the princess?” 

The surprisingly choked voice came from Rowan, and the two pairs of Ashryver eyes snapped to him in a millisecond. Rowan was looking at Aelin like he had never seen her before, and she frowned at him in confusion. Maybe he hadn’t met a princess before, but this was hardly how she thought he would react. It was as if he was going to be sick.

From beside her, Evalin let out a strangled laugh and Aelin gazed at her mother incredulously. From beside her, Aelin’s mother burst into peals of laughter. 

“Well, this is quite the situation, isn’t it?” she laughed. It was a moment before she composed herself and turned to Rowan.  “Rowan Whitethorn. I suppose introductions aren’t necessary.” 

Rowan was bowing, green eyes hard as they met Aelin’s and stayed there, even as he addressed her mother. “Your majesty. Allow me to express my gratitude for welcoming me into your country.” 

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Evalin insisted, still smiling as if she couldn’t believe what was happening. “You’re practically family, after all.” 

And that was when it hit her.

Let’s just say I’m involved with politics.

Doranelle.

Recent stressful news.

His name. 

Rowan’s eyes were on hers as the realization struck that Aelin not only fell into the statistics of people who hit attractive strangers with their car but also happened to hit members of royalty.

No- Aelin thought as she gaped at her betrothed- she most definitely did not fall in favor of most statistics. But they had fallen with her on one account.

The Prince of Doranelle was handsome. 

~~

this prompt was: “i accidentally hit you with my car”

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