#king of the house with a heart full of anger that I couldn’t see

[unorganisedalienrubbish]

Maybe I won’t hit 21

[farity]

The Choice

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon OFC

Summary:  Playing out that scene of Aemond going to Storm’s End, if Lucerys didn’t show up.

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He heard soft laughter, from the girl furthest to his left, and Aemond Targaryen wondered who would be so bold as to mock his plan.

“I’m not doing this.  Father.”

He turned to find one of the four Baratheon daughters, he didn’t know which one, hands on hips, staring at Lord Borros, head of House Baratheon.

“Carys.”  The single word held exasperation that let Aemond know that it wasn’t the first time Borros Baratheon had dealt with her impertinence.  “Prince Aemond has requested to, what was it?” he turned to his maester.

“Uh, to sample the nectar of their lips so he may choose which one he wishes to wed.”

“Right.”

Aemond walked towards Carys, who was still looking at her father.  “And why is my request a problem for you?”  

She had the dark hair of a Baratheon, a heart-shaped face, a pert little nose, and wide eyes full of disdain.  Her lips, however-

“You are here asking for my father’s favor.” she said, smirking at him.  “The way I see it, it is the person granting the favor who holds the upper hand.  Father, I am not to be sampled like merchandise at a village fair, may I retire to my chambers?”

One of her sisters couldn’t hide her laughter, and Aemond started to feel like he was losing control of the situation.  It bit at him that this girl could dismiss him so very easily, and impulse, which he managed to control every day of his life, got the best of him.

“I have made my choice, Lord Borros,” he declared, standing in front of Carys.  “I will marry this one.”

She turned from her father to face him, a frown marring her features.  “I beg your pardon?”

“This one,” Aemond repeated.

“I have a name,” she snapped back, not bothering to hide her dislike of him.

Aemond leaned in until his nose almost touched hers.  To her credit, she did not flinch.  “Your name doesn’t matter to me.”  He nodded at the maester, who ran off to follow his instructions.

“Father,” Carys stepped around Aemond, “I do not wish this.”

Lord Borros sighed.  Carys was his youngest, and his favorite.  “I agreed to allow Prince Aemond his choice of bride.  I made a vow.”

“Grandfather vowed to support the Princess Rhaenyra, and yet here we are,” she countered.  

Aemond knew what he had to do.  Choose one of the others, all of him seemed far more amiable than Carys.  He could go home with a malleable wife, get some children on her, then send her off to live somewhere else when he got bored.

And then he pictured Carys, belly swollen with his child.  Carys, who was breathing heavily as she pled her case, breasts heaving, but this time underneath him, in his bed, as he drove into her.  Her eyes, flashing fire, but not in anger, but looking down at him as she rode him, his hands digging into her hips so hard he’d leave bruises on her skin.  Those perfectly plush lips around his cock.

“We are agreed, then, Lord Borros,” he said as he saw the maester, who was coming back with another man.  

Carys ran to her father, kneeling at his feet.  “Father, please.”

“My child,” Borros said quietly.  “I am sorry.”

The maester and the septon stood ready to begin the ceremony, and Aemond could see the panic in Carys’ eyes as she walked toward him.  “May I have a moment, your highness?”  She grabbed the edge of his sleeve and pulled him a few feet away, still within sight of everyone, but where her words could be heard by him alone.

“Why?”

Aemond raised his eyebrows, feigning ignorance.

“Why are you doing this?  Because I didn’t want your mouth on mine after you’ve kissed my sisters?”

“I need not explain my reasons to you.  You should simply feel gratitude for being chosen as the bride of the King’s brother.”

Carys pursed her lips together, shaking her head.  “Any of them, any of them, will make a far better wife than I.  I am spoiled, outspoken, and have gotten my way since I was a babe.  You do not want me for your wife.”

Aemond smirked down at her.  “And yet,” he said slowly, “here we are.”

She heard her earlier words being thrown back at her and felt the urge to rip out his other eye.  The way he was towering over her might intimidate a meeker woman, Carys thought, the weapons at his sides might make him fearsome.  When he’d leaned in earlier, she’d felt the brush of his silver hair, the smell of leather and spices. 

“Shall we?” he offered his hand, literally this time, and when she placed hers on it, not seeing another way out, she felt how warm he was, saw how his long, elegant fingers wrapped themselves around her much smaller hand.  “Your hand is cold,” he noted, and pressed his other hand on top of hers as they walked back.

* * * * * 

“Have you ever ridden a dragon?”

“Oh yes, all the time.”

Aemond closed his eye for a moment.  Why he’d hoped she might stop being so combative after their wedding, he didn’t know.  At the end, he’d leaned in to brush his lips across hers and she’d turned her face so his kiss landed on her jaw.  He could have grabbed her face and turned her back, she was his after all and he could do as he wished with her, but he’d seen how her shoulders had sunk and the fire had gone out of her eyes.  She wasn’t used to losing.

When he’d told her they were going back on Vhagar, he’d seen the brief moment of fear in her eyes, but all she’d said was, “then I will change,” and disappeared down a hallway.  She had come back wearing breeches, boots, and enough layers to survive in The Land of Always Winter.  She was small but shapely, and he felt his cock stir as he watched her approach the dragon.

He started to speak to Vhagar in High Valyrian, and she glanced from him to the dragon.  “She is going to smell you.  Do not be frightened, and be still,” he held her hand as Vhagar turned her head toward Carys.  

She went stone-still as the dragon moved her head past her and around her, her fingers tightening on his but otherwise not moving.  

“Put your open hand on her, here,” he indicated on the dragon’s jaw, and Carys gripped him even tighter, but slowly raised her other hand, pressing it gently to Vhagar’s jaw.  The dragon let out a long breath and Carys smiled.  “She is magnificent,” she whispered in awe.

“She is.”

She looked back at him and her smile vanished.  “Now I climb?”

He nodded, walking her around to where the rope ladder was.  She began climbing with him following, the tempting curves of her hips and ass staring him in the face as she took each step up.  

“It will be safer if you sit in front of me.”

“Won’t I block your view?”

He laughed, much to her annoyance, “I doubt it, unless you grow another foot in the next minute.”  He guided her to sit and wrapped the saddle belt around her waist, fingers flexing at the feel of her.  “If you’re going to be sick, please lean over the side.”

“I can always turn around if I am going to be sick,” she said sweetly as he sat behind her.  “Wait,” she said, watching him take the reins.  “Are you not securing yourself?”

“Worried about me?” he smiled, “how very wifely of you.”

Carys shook her head, huffing at his words, “All I meant is how do I steer her if you fall off?  Accidentally, of course.  After all, nothing in life is certain.”

Was she seriously implying she might push him off his own dragon?  Aemond couldn’t help but smile again.  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she tensed immediately.  “Your concern is much appreciated, wife,” he whispered in her ear.  “I promise you, we will be in King’s Landing shortly to enjoy the first night of our marriage.”

She elbowed him in the ribs, but he didn’t move.  “Gods take me.”

No, Aemond thought, I will.

* * * * * 

Carys was terrified as the giant dragon began taking steps, preparing to take to the skies.  Aemond’s arm was like a vise around her, and she felt oddly reassured by him.  He’d chosen to secure her to the saddle but not himself, and frankly, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he simply pushed her off during the flight and save himself the trouble of dealing with her.

Vhagar took three large steps and then leapt, her large wings spreading to catch air, and Carys felt her breath catch for a moment.  Her gloved hands were gripping the edge of the saddle as Aemond easily directed the dragon with just one hand on the pommel.  She remembered how warm his hands had been earlier, how he’d warmed her small, cold hand between his.  She was sitting between his thighs, her bottom nestled against him and all she could feel from him was heat. Vhagar soared and she bit her lip to keep from whimpering in fear.  

“You are perfectly safe,” Aemond said in her ear.  “I have you.”

Vhagar drifted down to turn and Carys felt herself shifting on the saddle.  She was secure, she knew, but pushed back, wriggling her hips.  She felt something against her bottom, something pulsing, slowly getting harder, and went completely still, realizing what was happening.

“Stop.  Moving.”  Aemond growled at her.

“I was sliding off,” she snapped back, and for good measure, wriggled her bottom again.

He jerked her back against him, “Lady wife, unless you want to consummate our marriage atop Vhagar, stop moving your ass so much!”  

Carys chose to ignore him, and pointed down and to the right.  “What is that?”

“Blackwater Bay.”

“Huh,” she said.  “Looks tame.  We’re used to rougher currents down in Storm’s End.”

“I’m sure you have personally sailed many ships, Carys.”

She couldn’t help but smile at hearing him, finally, say her name.  Of course, she had been just as stubborn and had yet to say his, so she supposed that was a point in her favor.  This whole business of her father swearing fealty to King Aegon had not gone her way at all.  She’d hoped that Aemond would choose Maris, who was her least favorite sister, and then she’d never have to deal with the nasty shrew again, but no, she had to mock him and make him notice her.  

The septon had raced through the wedding ceremony, and before she knew it, Aemond was leaning in to kiss her.  She’d turned away, his warm lips landing on her jaw, earning her a sigh from her father.  Well, she wouldn’t be around to irritate him any more, she thought, and suddenly felt the loss of everything she had known until then.  As much as she annoyed her father, she would miss their talks, breaking their fast together, his stories about her mother.  She might never see him again, she realized, and she felt a pang of despair so strong she could tell tears were welling up in her eyes.  

She wouldn’t cry, certainly not in front of him.  Not when she was the only one responsible for her current situation.  As usual, she had only herself to blame for the predicament she was in, just like when she was six and had climbed the main storage building despite repeatedly being told not to.  She couldn’t figure out how to get back down and had spent the night alone, crying, and so cold she almost froze to death.

And now she was newly wedded to a man she’d heard was dangerous, about to start a new life in a foreign place, full of people she didn’t know, and she was expected to start bearing children as soon as possible.  Well done, you idiot.

* * * * * 

Carys had gone silent in the last few minutes, and although he welcomed the peace and quiet, Aemond wondered what had changed.  They were almost back at King’s Landing, and he’d been wondering how he’d break the news to his mother and grandfather that he had not only secured support from Lord Borros, but by the way, he’d also gotten married, not just betrothed.  

He saw Carys lift a hand to wipe her eyes and immediately grabbed her shoulder.  She jumped, startled, and he leaned in to speak.  “Are you alright?”

She nodded, but he wasn’t convinced.  

“Are you crying?”

She shook her head forcefully.

“We are about to land.”

She nodded again.  

He heard her sharp intake of breath when Vhagar started descending and he tightened his arm around her.  

* * * * * 

She supposed King’s Landing was rather grand, although it was a lot more austere than she’d expected.  She remembered tales from her grandfather about the “improper art on the walls” but she couldn’t see any.  Everything was quiet, dark, unadorned, except for huge seven pointed stars everywhere.  

“Aemond.”

She turned at the sound of a man’s voice, and saw an older gentleman, bearded, about the same build as Aemond.  There was a Hand of the King pin on his jacket and she realized this was Ser Otto Hightower.

“Grandfather.”  Aemond glanced at her and then back at Ser Otto.  She noticed how he straightened his back, as if bracing himself.  “This is my wife, the Lady Carys Baratheon.”

Ser Otto went very still and Carys wanted to laugh.  For once, it was someone else paying for being impulsive.  “Wife?”

“Aemond!”

This time it was a woman’s voice, and when Carys turned, she saw a beautiful woman dressed in green rushing to greet Aemond.  He kissed her cheek and again, seemed to steel himself as he glanced at Carys.  “Mother, this is my wife, the Lady Carys Baratheon.”

The woman turned slowly, letting go of Aemond as she appraised Carys from head to toe.

“Your Grace,” Carys said, sinking into a graceful curtsy, “I am glad to make your acquaintance.”

“Wife?” queen Alicent said, looking from Aemond to his new wife, and back again.

Oh, this is going great, thought Carys.

“Yes, mother.  I secured support from Lord Borros and chose to marry his daughter at Storm’s End.  She will need to be made comfortable in my chambers.”  

No one said anything for a few moments, and then Aemond extended his hand.  Carys placed her hand in his and let him take her to his rooms.

* * * * * 

"You were supposed to betroth yourself to one of them, not marry anyone!”

“Yet it is done, grandfather, and I will have my wife treated with kindness and respect.”

Ser Otto Hightower looked at his grandson, shaking his head.  “Has the marriage been consummated?  I think not, unless the deed was done before you flew back.”

Aemond knew what his grandfather was thinking, and he immediately stood to stop this from going any further.  “It will be.  I will not have the marriage annulled, if that is what you are hinting at.”

“Why?” Otto insisted.  “She is hardly a beauty, I cannot understand how she has tricked you into marrying her.”

“I have tricked no one, Ser Otto.”

All three of them turned to look at Carys standing at the doorway.  

Aemond noticed her skin was still pink from the bath she’d requested after riding Vhagar, and her dark hair was damp, but braided down her back.  

“Child,” his mother began, “you can be back home tomorrow if you wish.”

“And then I would be damaged goods, married and returned to my father?  No,” Carys shook her head.  She looked at Aemond.  

“We need a minute,” he said, nodding at her.  

“Take ten,” Ser Otto said as he walked out with his daughter.

The moment the door closed behind them, Carys turned to Aemond.  “I never wanted this, you know that, even after you chose me, I tried to change your mind.”

“I know.”

“I will not be sent back like rotten meat when I was against this from the beginning.”

“You will not be sent back.”

“If you’re sorry now, that is not my fault and I-”

He reached out and she found herself in his arms, his mouth on hers, and her head began to swim with surprise and need.  Her arms rose to his shoulders, fingertips playing with his silver hair.  

The heat of him burned through her clothes and his, the layers of fabric and, in his case, leather and metal.  Aemond pulled back, breathing hard, and grabbed her wrist.  “Come with me.”  He opened the hidden door beside the bookshelf and took the shortcut to his bedchamber.   He would not take her in his grandsire’s office, with him and his mother probably listening outside.  

“You know what we need to do,” he said between kisses, locking the door after them.  

“Yes,” she breathed out, pulling him back to her.  

She let him pick her up and set her down on the edge of his bed, let him raise her skirts until her thighs were bared to him.  She helped him undo his breeches, nodded when he asked her if she agreed.  

Aemond didn’t realize how much he’d been fearing she’d say no until she nodded, and once fear was gone, pure raw lust took over.  He reached down, guiding himself inside her, then grabbed under her knee and hooked her leg around his hip.

“This will hurt for a moment,” he said as she wrapped her other leg around him.  Before she could say anything, he drove his hips hard against her, seating himself fully inside her.  

Carys bit down on her lip, making only a small sound of distress as she tried to adjust to having him filling her, stretching her.  Aemond cupped her cheek, raised her face to his, kissed her until he felt some of the tension ease.  She was tight, hot, and he was desperate to lose himself in her.  

“I’m okay,” she said shakily, and rolled her hips.

It was all he needed, that small bit of encouragement, and he started snapping his hips against her.  If the blood of the dragon ran hot then she was more than his equal, because she was moving with him, meeting every thrust, one hand holding onto his back and the other fisted in his hair. She was whimpering against his mouth, and he felt her tighten around him, her inner muscles milking him as the orgasm tore through her, and he let go, the world around him fading as he surrendered to his own release.

* * * * * 

That had been truly extraordinary.

Carys had never experienced anything like it, had heard plenty of talk hiding behind stairwells and doors, but nothing could have prepared her for feeling like an earthquake was happening inside her.  

“Is it always like that?” she asked a few minutes later, when her breathing was somewhat back to normal.  Aemond was laying beside her, and he seemed just as overtaken by their joining as she was, although she was pretty sure it wasn’t his first time.

“No,” he said, turning to face her.  “Are you still in pain?”

“Oh no,” she replied, “it went away pretty quickly.  How is it not always like that?”

He reached over, placed a hand over her mouth.  “Give me a minute, harpy!”

She pushed his hand away, laughing.  “Take your minute, I have some rearranging to do here.”  She left him to clean herself up, undid her braid since so much of her hair had come loose, fixed her stockings.  When she returned to his bed, he was fully dressed again, standing with his back to her.

“Aemond.”

He turned, and she saw that he wasn’t wearing his eyepatch.  Instead, there was a brilliant sapphire where his eye had once been.  He’d also removed the tie that held his hair away from his face, and it fell straight down, framing the sharp angles of his face.  There was challenge in his eye, and all Carys could do was close the distance between them and stare up at him.

“Carys.”

“When did you have the sapphire put in?”

“It was much later.”

She thought for a moment.  “So you had to have the skin cut open again.”  When he said nothing, she shook her head, smiling.  “Did you feel it?”

“Yes.”

“You’re terrifying.”

“That is why I wear the eyepatch.”

She saw the way his shoulders tensed and his back went even more straight.  “I do not mean the fact that you are missing an eye is terrifying.  I met you today and I have never been afraid of you.  Annoyed with you, exasperated, utterly irritated, yes-”

“Oh good, and here I was thinking you’d only be terrified.”

“Please sit, my neck is starting to hurt from looking up at you.”

He sat and grabbed her hips, pulling her closer until she stood between his thighs.  “Is this acceptable, wife?”

“You know, if your grandfather truly does not want me here, he can still-”

Aemond’s hands tightened on her hips.  “Carys.  You are my wife.  I am very loyal to my family, that is true, but this was my choice.  You are my choice.  You may already be carrying my child.”

Carys opened her mouth to speak, but there was loud knocking on the door, and then Ser Otto was calling for Aemond.

* * * * * 

“She will not be sent back,” Aemond said, sitting next to Carys in his mother’s rooms.  "The marriage has been consummated, she is my choice, I do not see why we are still discussing this.”

Queen Alicent looked up at her father, who was still pacing by the window, but Aemond continued.

“If I’d broken the betrothal later on, Lord Borros might have switched his allegiance to Rhaenyra, so in any case, it would be in our best interest to honor it.  And there is still Daeron you can use for any other alliance.”

Alicent closed her eyes, “he is right, father.  We were not going to betroth Aemond to a Baratheon just to break with them later.”

“Fine,” Ser Otto snapped.  “Welcome, Lady Carys, I wish you much joy of your marriage.”  He nodded at his grandson and walked out.

“He seems sweet,” Carys said quietly, earning herself an elbow on the ribs from Aemond.

Alicent stood, “dinner should be ready shortly, I will see you both there.”  She walked out, heading the opposite direction from her father.

“Come on, I will have you meet Helaena and her children.”

* * * * * 

.

[mackeydoodledoo]

Fixation

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x (Fem!)Reader

Summary: You’ve known Wanda ever since she began her time as an Avenger. You considered yourself unspecial compared to everyone else. Even when she chose Vision over you, you never stopped finding Wanda so fascinating to you. 

Warnings: MoM spoilers, Angst, Self-Esteem/Mental Health Issues

A/n: If you haven’t watched MoM yet, I recommend skipping this until you watch it. 

Unconditionally - Katy Perry

Key: +*+ = Time skips

--------------------------------------------------------------

                        -Post Winter Soldier-

Through your mother, she would tell the story of how she met your father. She would often tell you a tale of how ‘special’ people like you and your father would find their form of soulmate. They would find themselves fixated on a specific person, to the point where they would become anyone they wanted them to be.

“The real challenge was for the person to reciprocate the feelings back,” You explain, “Well, call it a little stalker-ish... But, my father got lucky with my mom.”

“Who was your father again?” Natasha asks

“Never met him...” You say, “But, my mother would always tell me how he was the sweetest guy ever. Gave her everything she desired, not just by a snap of his fingers like a king would to woo the heart of their potential queen. He actually worked towards getting her the finer things in life.”

“You being one of them?” She asks

“Guess so,” You smile

                       -Age of Ultron- 

You were split from Clint Barton as you, him, Thor, Steve and Natasha were attempting to stop Ultron and his sentries from taking the Vibranium. But the challenge were his two accomplices: Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. 

-The Girl tried to warp my mind, it would take special care to keep her at bay, I doubt a human could do it. Fortunately, I am Mighty-

Thor says over the comms.

Oh we’ll see about that buddy...

 You became determined. To prove to a god that you, a measly human could keep a woman with telepathic powers at bay. However, finding her was the trick. She could have been anywhere. 

-Y/n, get back to the ship. This could get hairy...-

Natasha became the mother figure you needed ever since losing your own, and since joining the Avengers. However, you still weren’t at full extent with your powers. 

I have to do this... I want to prove my worth to everyone...

Natasha was basically a highly skilled former assassin, Clint had perfect eyesight when it came to a bow and arrow, Bruce was a walking time bomb of Green Anger, Thor was a god, Steve was a super soldier and Tony had a suit of armor he could modify with ease.. You weren’t sure why you were still in this band of people with superior abilities, or why they still wanted you there. 

“It just...” a feminine voice pulls you out of your own self-doubting thoughts

You turn your head towards the voice and there she was... Wanda Maximoff.

“Bounced off...” She says, when she realizes that you had no reaction to her magic

“Well, when you already picture your own self-doubt and fears your little mind controlling thing is very inefficient,” You explain, lightly chuckling 

Wanda couldn’t help but giggle a little bit. Even on the field, even if she was your enemy, you couldn’t help but smile at her little giggle. However, even though you were too fixated on the way she laughed, she tries once more to mind-control you. But like the first time, she watches it bounce right off of you.

“Still not gonna work lovely,” You say

Before you could attempt to bring her in, you thought too late as her speed-powered brother comes to her rescue; punching you, knocking your face onto the ground.

+*+

You continuously thought about your small interaction with Wanda back in Africa as you sit in the field of Clint’s house. 

“Clint said you came out here,” Natasha comes up to you

“Nat... Is it odd that I found myself... Fixated on that Wanda girl?” You ask, “It’s like she won’t get out of my head...”

“Maybe she really got to you when she hit you with her mind control trick,” Natasha suggests, sitting next to you

‘That’s the thing... Nat, she tried doing that, twice. But, they didn’t work both times,” You explain

“You already must be going through some dark shit then,” Natasha tries to pass it off as a mood enlightener

However, she looks at you and see no reaction, her smile drops.

“Oh my god y/n, I’m so sorry I-I thought-” She immediately tries to comfort you

“I haven’t even discovered who I am, my powers are still manifesting, I don't know why any of you actually enjoy having me here or unless I am so that I could be used as some kind of secret weapon against these two kids...” You try to spew everything at once

You begin curling yourself into an upward fetal position as you begin uncontrollably hyperventilating.

“Hey Hey Hey y/n it’s okay,” Natasha wraps an arm around you, trying to comfort you

“Who the hell am I?!” You sob

“Y/n, y/n look at me,” Natasha shifts her body to sit in front of you

You finally look up and look at her.

“You are y/n y/l/n,” Natasha explains, “Daughter of an amazing mother and share the special traits of your father. It’s okay that you don’t know who you are yet. You still have a whole entire life ahead of you. I’m with you every step of the way.”

+*+

“You,” Pietro calls out to you

You were in the middle of putting on some Armor.

“Me?” You ask

He nods, “I need you to do me a huge favor,” He says

“Shoot,” You say

“My sister seems very fixated with you,” He says, “I always see you at her side. But, seeing her smile when you're around... That’s something my sister hasn’t been able to do in a very long time.”

“You’re implying?” You ask, not catching on to what he was implying

“I need you to look after Wanda, should anything happen to me,” He says, “Although that’s not the goal. But, my point is, just in case.”

“Deal,” You say, “Name’s y/n by the way.”

+*+

“I got her back Pietro,” You tell him, “Don’t worry.”

Wanda looks over at you from across the key, looking at you in absolute awe.

“It’s you and me,” You smile at her

+*+

You snatch Wanda up into your arms and use whatever leg power you had left. However, you found yourself shifting through a black haze; you were on one of the cargo ships that Nick Fury launched to bring the civilians to the hellicarrier. 

“Wands are you okay?” You ask, looking down at her, still holding her in your embrace

“Yeah, I’m okay,” She replies, looking up at you, “How... How did you do that?”

“I... Don’t know,” You answer, “What matters more is that we’re safe.”

                      -Civil War-

You run over to Wanda as she comes back to consciousness after getting hit with a sonic ray, you pull her into your arms.

“Hey hey are you okay?!” You ask her, attempting to check her for any noticeable wounds

“I’m okay y/n,” She smiles

You two hear the footsteps of the German government coming to apprehend you and your team. You honestly were neutral about choosing to be on team Rogers or Stark. But when you saw that Wanda chose to be on Steve’s side, after Vision attempted to keep her at the complex, you immediately followed behind her. No real reason. Just Wanda. 

“I’m sorry... To the both of you,” Vision comes up to the both of you

“Us too,” You say, knowing Wanda felt reluctant enough

You hear the German government come even closer...

Wanda doesn’t deserve to be locked up again...

The small team coming for you and Wanda stop. Both Wanda and Vision look at you; the brown of your eyes turned a bright blue flame. Your field of vision towards the civilians.

“Y/n... Stop,” Vision calmly instructs you

However, you were in a trance-like state. As if you didn’t hear him, you easily lift Wanda into your arms as you begin easily walking straight past them. A familiar black haze forms a portal as you and Wanda disappear into the other side. 

                       -Infinity War-

You were returning to your shared apartment with Wanda after running out to get dinner. However, when you look up to your window, you saw her with Vision, in a loving embrace. You knew Vision came to visit Wanda often. But, you noted how they became even closer. 

Ouch...

However, even after Vision leaves, everything was seemingly normal between you and Wanda.

“Y/n, what’s on your mind?” Wanda comes up to you

“Nothing,” You lie, smiling

“Promise?” She asks, looking up at you

“Promise,”You smile down at her

+*+

You were waiting for Wanda to return from a date with Vision. It was another evening by yourself, even though Wanda promised to have an evening with you. However, you weren’t surprised at that point. You just wanted to make sure that Wanda had a good time.

~

“Even if the one fell for someone else, you never really fall out of love for them. You just simply become someone they can turn to when they need someone. Whether that is actually their lover or a very close, trusting friend,” Your mother explains

“Won’t it hurt?” You ask her

“Most likely,” She answers, “But, you never really think of yourself. You really think of them over everything else. You would want them to be happy. So you do everything in your power to make them feel as such, even if they have someone in their life. having them know they have one other person that cares about them as much would mean everything to them.”

~

You thought about how your mother explained the legend of ‘special’ people like you and your father find their soulmate. However, you’ve found yourself fixated on Wanda for the last couple of years, even when she found herself fixated on Vision. You were pulled out of your thoughts when you hear a blast in the distance. You go up to the window and see flashes of red light and two bodies falling from the sky.

Shit!

+*+

“Y/n, I need to ask you for a huge favor,” Vision walks up to you

Wanda attempts to walk up to the both of you so that she could listen in.

“In private,” He turns to Wanda

You look up at him, confused. Ever since the attack, Wanda has been nearly at his side, even throughout the complex. Vision lead you through an empty hallway, looking over to the direction you two had walked through, making sure Wanda didn’t secretly follow.

“I don’t think they’ll be able to get the stone out of my head quick enough before Thanos reaches it,” Vision says, “Wanda though... She’s going to need someone to keep her company once I’m gone...”

“What are you asking Vis?” You ask

“I’m asking you,” He begins, getting on both of his knees

He doesn’t make eye contact with you. As if feeling some kind of shame, he looks down at the ground.

“Please,” He begs, “I need you to look after Wanda once I’m gone. Should something happen to me. She has experienced enough loss. I know after this one, I don’t know if she’ll ever recover from it. I’m asking you to be at her side through everything. Promise me y/n... For Wanda’s sake...”

But, she’ll never be truly happy with me...

That was what you wanted to tell him. You wanted to also tell him that you and the team weren’t going to let him die and that they will figure out a way for him to live and that Wanda would be happy.

“Deal,” Was what came out of your mouth

+*+

“Wanda...” Your first thought comes out of your mouth as you regain consciousness

Your vision comes to... Vision... His lifeless... Grey body... 

No no no no...

However, once you look up, Wanda was turning to dust...

“Wanda!” You yelp, launching yourself 

You outreach your arm right as Wanda fully disappears. Your heart thumped against your temples as you try to process the fact that Wanda was dusted right in front of your eyes, under Vision’s lifeless body. You back yourself into a tree as you let out a blood curdling scream, running your fingers roughly across your scalp, through your hair. 

“WANDA!!!!” You repeatedly scream

It wasn’t until Natasha was the first one to pull you into an embrace, trying to calm you down.

                     -Wandavision-

“Stop!” You cry out 

The soldiers lower their guns as they stand there. Wanda looks at the irises of their eyes; a familiar blue flame color in them. They move out of the way, making a pathway for you as you appear before Wanda. Her eyes widen as she watches you approach her.

“You’re with them?” She asks you

“No,” You answer, “By may own free will. I didn’t know they were going to do this... I’m here so I can bring you home...”

“I am home,” She tells you

“Keeping all of these people here against their will?” You ask, “I know that you always talked about wanting a life of where you don’t have to be afraid of your own powers, to be who you are...”

Wanda looks at you, unamused.

“I don’t know what’s harder: trying to get you to come to your senses or traveling the world to find you,” You confess

“You... Traveled the world?... To find me?” Wanda asks

You look at her in total surprise, she really thought you gave up after Tony’s funeral.

“Yeah,” You say, “It wasn’t easy to do. Everyone wasn’t willing to answer, or they would intentionally avoid me when I would ask about you... Until Monica contacted me.”

“So you are with them?!” Wanda’s scary demeanor coming back

“No,” You say, “I’m here for you. I don’t give a rat’s ass about what their goals are. One thing I know for sure is that I found you and I’m not going anywhere until you come home.”

“I am home now,” Wanda repeats, “And you don’t have to be without me again.”

She takes a hold of you with her magic, strings of red wrapping around your arms so that you wouldn’t use your pwn powers against her. She begins dragging you along back into the Hex.

                   -Multiverse of Madness-

You return your horse back to his stable after a day out in the field.

“Y/n y/l/n,” Dr. Strange calls your name

You sigh and turn around to face the Sorcerer.

“Dr. Strange,” You smile, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I need your help,” He says

“What kind of desperate help are you in need of now?” You ask

You didn’t mean to call him weak like that but, that was how it came out.

“Wanda Maximoff has turned evil,” He bluntly states

You stop washing your dishes and slowly turn around. Unholy anger begins building up in you as you turn to look at him.

“Tell me you’re lying,” You say, practically growling

“Y/n... Calm down, let me explain,” He says

You look down and see a blue flame-like haze beginning to form around your hands.

“You’ve worked with her the most,” He says

“That’s an understatement,” You say

It was true. You were the last person she is very close with, maybe the only person. You would think Clint Barton would have checked on Wanda, but, after Westview, he didn’t even attempt to try and talk some sense into her, that was you. 

“I’ve been trying to look after her ever since I promised to Vision that I’d be there for her. But it’s hard when she continues running off...” You sigh, “You still didn’t properly explain to me why you insulted Wanda by calling her an evil being.”

“Have you heard of the Darkhold?” He asks

“That book that Wanda was reading?” You ask

”You allowed her to read that?!” Dr. Strange asks, furious

“Strange, I only know so much about the type of magic you work with,” You say, “I was born with mine and I still haven’t even manifested the full extent of them.”

“The Darkhold has the ability to corrupt the reader,” He explains, “I came to Wanda, attempting to have her help us take down the demons after America Chavez who has the power to travel through the multiverse.”

You think back to the moment you and Wanda heard her kids’ voices...

“And since you were the one who allowed her to read that, you can right it by helping us stop her from breaking all laws of natural order,” He demands

“I’m pretty sure this is now a ‘I’m not asking, I’m telling’ kind of situation yeah?” You ask

He nods.

“Okay...” You sigh, “Let’s go.”

+*+

You didn’t know when you hit the ground of Mount Wundagore after attempting to talk to Wanda once more, but you knew that your life was slipping before your very eyes. 

I didn’t even tell... Wanda how I felt... 

After the amount of times she threatened you, captured you, even hurt you, you knew better. You knew better than anyone now of what she has been going trough. 

“You’re really giving up here?” A male voice calls

Who?...

A beam  of light crackles from beneath the earth’s crust.

Satan?...

“Close enough,” He says, “I’m actually your dad. King of the Underworld, overseer of the deceased souls.”

Hades?...

“Not quite either,” He says, “Now are you going to let your sorry ass die here, or will you fight for the one you love?”

How the hell a I going to do that? I can’t move my entire body, I’m slipping into death, And I’m on the ground... She’s all the way up there...

“Fully manifest your powers, save her from the influence of the Darkhold,” He says, “Break her out of your senses.”

How?.. 

“No longer question yourself,” He tells you, “Believe in yourself. Never be afraid of who you are.”

+*+

Wanda was continuing to absorb America’s powers. Still clinging onto the hope that she’d be able to be with Billy and Tommy.

“Stop this!” Your voice booms throughout the temple

She looks up towards the cliff and nearly stops. Wanda was attempting to read you... You seemed... Different. Not entirely but, the energy didn’t match what was before. But, the giant beings began putting themselves in front of Wanda, preventing you from getting to her.

“Don’t start,” You speak to them

With a simple wave of your hand; illuminated in a bright blur/black angelic ray of light outline, the beings fall behind you, over the cliff.

“Would Vision want this for you?” You ask, “How would Billy and Tommy see you after what you’ve become?”

“Don’t speak to me about them!” She spits at you, “You don’t know the amount amount of loss I have suffered! You will never understand!”

“Actually,” You start, “I understand it all too well... I never met my father whom I literally just met 2 minutes ago, lost my birth mother to an aneurysm, and my mother figure to a goddamn stone. I understand completely... Wanda...”

“Then I’ll just drop you off in a reality where you can live with them all,” Wanda attempts to negotiate with you

“I don’t want that,” You confess, walking even closer, “Because there is something more that I could ever want in this reality and this one alone...”

“And what could that possibly be?” She asks

You don’t give her a straightforward answer but give her a straightforward stare. 

“W-Wanda Maximoff is gone,” She attempts to hide her blush, “Only the Scarlet Witch is left!!”

“No,” You say, reaching the other end of the enchantment table, “I know you’re still in there Wands... I know you are,”

“You are so naive,” She attempts to hurt you, “You always attempt to find the good in people even when the good in them is clearly gone.”

“You never doubted the good in me, when I didn’t see it myself,” You say, “What makes you think that I’ll doubt your goodness?”

You know it sounded quite selfish of you. But, what else could have been said? You loved her, deeply. The idea of her leaving you behind for another universe with her kids that weren’t even hers hurts enough. 

“I don’t get it,” Wanda begins breaking

“Don’t get what?” You ask, beginning to walk around the table

“Why are you doing this?” She asks, “I’ve hurt you countless times, left you countless times for Vision 

+*+

You groan as your vision comes to. You don’t know how long you’ve been out for however, you hear screaming.

Wanda...

You immediately bolt onto your feet and rush toward the portal. But stop. Your Wanda fell to the ground. When you look ahead of her, you notice... Another Wanda, with Billy and Tommy.

“Wanda?” You ask

Both look at you. You actually didn’t specify to whom, but your Wanda noticed how you were staring at the other Wanda.

“Wanda!” A similar voice calls out

Another you... Rushes through the kitchen, immediately embracing Wanda and the boys. 

“What happened to you?!” Other you holds Other Wanda’s face in your hands

“I’m okay,” She says, caressing other you’s face, “I’m okay love.”

Love?...

You watch as other Wanda begins to make her way over to your Wanda; Billy and Tommy attempting to keep her from approaching her other variant. 

“It’s okay boys,” She assures her kids

Other You attempted to hold her back as well, but you watch her console the other you, so lovingly... Something you never gotten from your Wanda... You watch her walk up to your version of herself and gently raise her fingers to caress her doppelgängers cheek. 

“Know that they’ll be loved,” She tells your Wanda

Her vision changed to you.

“Though it took time... For her and I,” Other Wanda gestures to the other you, “But, I love you... In every universe...”

Her hand reaches up to brush her fingers against your cheek. Tears streamed down your face as the portal began to close. 

“I opened the Darkhold...” Wanda states, levitating herself onto her throne, “I have to be the one to close it.”

You, America, and Wong were preparing to head back to Kamar-Taj to regroup however, when you turned around to check if Wanda was right behind you, she isn’t.

“Go, y/n,” She tells you

You turn back to face Wong and America.

“I got it from here,” You smile at them, watching America close the portal

You run back up to her, attempting to grab at her arm. However, you look around you and notice how Wanda wasn’t going to move.

“Wanda come on!” You gesture

“I’ve hurt too many people,” She cries, “You should leave while you still have the chance.”

Not again... 

You hp up onto the throne, facing the opposite of Wanda. You attempt to gain a grip on her shoulders as she tries to force you off of her.

“What are you doing y/n?! Get out while you still can!” Wanda screams, trying to push you away

“NOT AGAIN!” You scream, finally breaking, “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you in this damn world!”

Wanda stops pushing you and stares.

“You really want to be with someone who has been mistreating you all your life?” She asks

“I don’t care if you’ve mistreated me,” You say, “Mistreat me, make me pissed the hell off, hell, even shatter my heart into a million pieces! I made a promise to Vision... To your Brother... Even vowed to myself that I wouldn't ever let you be by yourself... I love you Wanda.”

You shut the gap between your face and Wanda’s. She widens her eyes as the bright light begins to darken. She realizes silver-y grey wings began appearing before you.

“You... Have wings?” Wanda pulls away 

You turn your head over your shoulders. 

“Huh... That makes sense on how I can fly,” You say, shrugging

“You just now see them too?” She asks

“Well... Guess I never could find a way to believe in myself,” You chuckle, “Knowing you do too guess it’s now visible to us...”

Your arms wrap around Wanda as she continues to bring Mount Wundagore crumbling down. You didn’t know what was going to happen, but you didn’t care. You were with Wanda now. That was all that mattered to you.

“It’s You and Me,” You say

Epilogue

[samgirl98]

Cain and Abel Wept 6/?

Prev | Next

Danny watched the sunrise on the safe house’s roof. He didn’t move even as the sun got higher in the sky. His parents and Jazz were fast asleep, but Danny couldn’t relax enough to go unconscious. It was a good thing he didn’t need as much sleep as a regular human.

Danny fiddled with the card and cell phone that Batman Bruce had given him.

Once upon a time, Danny had dreamt of meeting his birth father.

Once upon a time, Danny had imagined Batman would appear like a demon in the night against Ra’s Al Ghul and save both Danny and Damian.

Once upon a time, Danny dreamt of being a family with the Detective and his little brother.

Those dreams had been crushed when his little brother thrust a sword through Danny’s chest.

Danny thought he had long since let go of the sadness and anger he felt every time he thought of Damian’s betrayal, but seeing his baby brother again brought those feelings to the forefront of his mind and a new feeling, guilt.

Danny could still see every sad look, every unshed tear from Damian every time Danny flinched away from his brother.

“Ugh, this is so unfair,” Danny yelled at the sky.

He had wanted to be a normal kid with a normal loving family. He had wanted to play with his baby brother without fearing punishment. Now, he was the fucking Ghost King running from the US government.

Danny brought his legs up to his chest and cried for the first time in a long time.

____

Batman entered the Watch Tower’s meeting room in his usual cool, collected manner. Clark would’ve fallen for Bruce’s feigned nonchalance if it weren't for his super hearing. As it was, Bruce’s heartbeat had been fluctuating from his normal speed to heart-stopping fast.

“Oi, Batsy, this better be important. I was in the middle of a game of poker.”

Bruce ignored Constantine and set up his presentation. He looked at everyone in the room and turned on the PowerPoint.

Clark almost threw up when he saw the dismembered body of a five-year-old glowing girl oozing some type of green blood. Batman showed more and more pictures before stopping on a slide that read in big, bold letters: The Anti-Ecto Act Laws.

To say it would be a long day was an understatement.

____

John Constantine had seen a lot of fucked up shit in his lifetime; hell, he’d done a lot of those fucked up shit, but what he was seeing today made him want to crawl into the House of Mysteries and forget he even existed by drowning himself in alcohol.

Batman had not pulled the punches. He showed slide after slide of dismembered body parts, cruel experiments, and cages full of ghosts from the bloody Infinite Realms! How had the fucking US government gotten ahold of such powerful beings? Even the weakest blob ghost was stronger than the average ghost.

Batman’s following words made John want to curse his very existence, “They’re also hunting the ruler of the Infinite Realms.”

Every magic user in the room cursed out loud. John took out a cigarette, uncaring who it pissed off that he was smoking in the Watch Tower. News like this warranted a little rule-breaking.  

Batman kept talking and brainstorming with the colorful brigade about how they would repeal the laws the stupid Americans had, in all their wisdom, deemed a good idea to write. John swore Lex being president had been the worst thing to happen to the country. Yeah, they got him out, but only after he had done a substantial amount of damage.

John took his last drag and asked, “So, Bats, why has the new King of the Infinite Realm looked toward you for help instead of one of us magic users?”

That’s what got to John; Bats was notorious for trying to avoid magic and anything that didn’t fit his logic. Why would a powerful being like that go to Batman instead of John or Captain Marvel?

“He was running from the government when he ended up in Gotham. He noticed that Red Hood was also considered an ecto-being and warned me about it. I decided to help immediately after the laws were brought to my attention.”

John squinted at Batman.

It seemed to make sense, but there was something else, something more. John could feel it deep in his guts. And his guts had never steered him wrong (whether he listened or not was another thing.)

They spent the rest of the day going over logistics and strategies.

Wonder Woman wanted to go straight to the GIW’s HQ and destroy it; she got vetoed. The destruction could cause a backlash from the general public and make them fear ghosts. Only Amity Parkers were aware of the spirits and had mixed feelings about them.

It was decided that Lois Lane and Clark Kent would bring attention to the laws and write about them in such a way that they were a danger to the Meta-Human Protection Laws.

Not a bad idea, to be honest.

“And you’re sure the King is all right with his kind being exposed to the world,” John couldn’t help but ask.

It was one thing for them to exist in legends and superstitions and another completely different thing for there to be concrete evidence of the existence of things that go bump in the night.

“He is,” Batman answered in his gravelly voice. Jesus, it made John think the man smoked but didn’t want to admit it.

“All right, if you say so.”

The meeting was adjourned, and John was happy to leave when he heard Batman, “Constantine, Superman, Wonder Woman, there’s something else I’d like to talk to you about.”

Great, he got singled out.

“Make it quick, Bats; I want to research and see if I can’t find anything on our mystery king.”

Batman waited until they were alone before talking.

“I am telling you this in confidence; it doesn’t leave this room, and you don’t tell anyone else.”

Batman glared at them, and Constantine felt he would have more shit added to his plate.

John sighed, “What now, Bats? What could possibly have to say that already didn’t fuck up my worldview?”

“The Ghost King is my biological son I didn’t know existed.”

John waited for Batman to scream out ‘psych’ because the man had to be pulling their legs.

Batman stared at them with a somber look in his eyes.

“For fuck’s sake, Bats, it’s called a fucking condom!”

____

Agent K and Agent O had isolated the ghost child’s ectosignature to somewhere in New Jersey. It had been hard.

The Fentons were great inventors and since they decided to betray the human race, they had used their inventions to hide the abomination.

But they were closing in. Soon, they would have the Ghost King and the Ghost Zone would be no more.

Wow, writing Constantine's POV was hard cuz I don't know British Slang that well, lol. Surprise, the GIW is close.

@spectralstardustandphantomnights @avelnfear @idfk-man10 @blackroserelina @candeartist422 @luer-mirin @mur-ururu @insufferablecrab @skulld3mort-1fan @meira-3919 @aethernorwood @mimilikey @marshmelloe @latheevening226 @ahyesanerd @lexdamo @chrysanthemum9484 @spooky-fm

[indigowallbreaker]

Any kiss prompt with Ignatz/Claude 😍❤️ loving all your writing btw!!

Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy the prompt I picked :D

33. Kiss In A Dream

(Currently accepting rare ships! Click here for the info post!)

--

After many days and nights staring at the same canvas-- tweaking and erasing and second guessing and muttering-- Ignatz finally had a handsome sketch worthy of his paints. Only having memory to work off of had been a challenge. But with King Khalid in Almyra, memory was all Ignatz could use.

He took a moment to step back and observe the sketch in full. The slant to Claude’s smile was correct, as was the shape of his hair, the length of his sideburns, and the earring detail. All it needed was paint to bring everything to life. 

Still lost in memories of his house leader, Ignatz sat at his work table. He yawned as he gathered the correct colors, briefly resting his chin in his hand as he forced himself to summon the last of his energy. The hour was late, but now that the sketch was done, Ignatz didn’t want to stop. He couldn’t wait any longer to see Claude again.

Of course, a painting of Claude was nothing like the real deal. The real Claude would have wrapped his arm around Ignatz’s shoulder by now, telling him to get some sleep and stop daydreaming about the Goddess. The real Claude would have walked him back to his room, ruffled his hair, and wished him good night with a wink. 

That’s how it had been during the war. Ignatz didn’t miss the war, not one bit-- but he missed his glasses getting knocked askew when his hair was ruffled. He missed the frantic beating of his heart whenever Claude winked at him. He missed getting a personal escort back to his dorm. 

Now Ignatz was busy with his art, and Claude was busy being King Khalid. Memories and paintings would have to do. 

With the last pigments mixed, Ignatz turned back to the canvas. Usually he started with the face to help align the facial features. This time, Ignatz began by painting the eyes. They were what came into sharper focus whenever Ignatz pictured Claude. He’d seen them shine with mischief and humor, seen them turn sharp when strategizing or aiming, seen them darken with grief and anger. 

Just now, under Ignatz’s hand, they were round, full of joy or even excitement. “I hope you’re this happy in Almyra,” Ignatz told the painting. “I wonder if you think about us Deer.”

The Claude in the sketch had a proud smile, but it softened at Ignatz’s question. “Of course I do,” Claude said.

“Do you think of me?” Ignatz dabbed gently at the left eye, wondering if he needed more grey in the mix.

“Those are the thoughts that make me happiest.”

Ignatz sighed and lowered his head to his pallet. “I wish I could believe that.”

Two fingers tilted Ignatz’s face up again. Claude-- fully colored-- locked eyes with Ignatz, his expression fond and not all how Ignatz had drawn him. “How can I persuade you?” Claude asked.

Ignatz could think of one way. Evidently Claude was of the same mind. With an airy laugh that colored Ignatz’s cheeks, Claude leaned over the easel, and kissed him.

There was a moment where all Ignatz knew was the press of Claude’s lips, the featherlight touch of Claude’s fingers pulling him closer-- then someone dropped a hand to his shoulder.

Ignatz jerked awake. He glasses dangled from one ear and sunlight filled up part of the window. “Wha?” He looked at his table. Pigments and paint were still capped. And there was still a hand on his shoulder.

Fixing his glasses, Ignatz looked up into a pair of very familiar, but also impossible, green eyes. 

Claude smiled. “Hey there.” The dream had yet to fade completely, and Ignatz found himself blushing again. Claude laughed. “Raphael said you hadn’t come down yet, so I let myself in. You were out cold! Having a good dream?” He winked.

Apart from a flashier earring and the reappearance of his braid, Claude looked much the same as when Ignatz had last seen him. Slightly scuffed traveling clothes, black and gold cape, thin beard. Ignatz was sure his face would catch fire at this rate. “I wasn’t-- Is that really you, Claude?”

Claude raised an eyebrow. “Have you had a lot of pretenders?”

“Why are you here?!” Ignatz winced at his own shout. “N-Not that I’m not happy to see you! I just-- how are you here?”

“I promised Raphael I’d stop by his inn next time I had a meeting with Lorenz. When he mentioned you were staying here, I had to come up and bother you.” Claude looked away. “Another project keeping you up, I see. I almost feel like I should apologize.”

To his horror, Ignatz followed his gaze and realized the sketch of Claude was still up on the easel. He groaned into his hands as Claude laughed again, slapping Ignatz on the back. 

Unable to look at either Claude, Ignatz said into his palms, “Don’t apologize. I’m the one that’s been missing you.” 

Claude’s hand moved to Ignatz’s hair. He ran his finger through the bedhead soothingly. “I’ve missed you too.” Claude’s voice had softened. Ignatz lifted his head. “Can I watch you finish the painting?” Claude asked quietly, as if ready to deny he had even spoken. 

Without dropping eye contact, Ignatz reached up and tugged his own hair sharply. Pain accompanied the action. Not a dream, then.

“Yes,” Ignatz replied just as quietly.

Claude grinned. “But first, you need breakfast.” Letting go of Ignatz, Claude stood, jerking his head towards the door. “Come on. Whatever Raphael’s cooking smells amazing.” With a smile, Ignatz stood as well. He stopped briefly to throw the cover back over canvas Claude, then followed the real Claude out of the room.

Ignatz wondered, between the two, who was more likely to kiss him next. 

[punkgrogg]

Doorway Duo pt.3

Pairing: Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader, Hybrid!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Hybrid!BTS, Non idol AU, fluff

Warnings: Pregnancy

Summary: Y/n was abandoned by her long time boyfriend and moves back home to help prepare for the baby. She’s surprised to find two unfamiliar hybrids at her house.

Length: 3,074

Notes: Sorry I took so long! I had to split this update into several parts because I ended up typing out over 6,000 words so another part will be posted in a couple days hopefully I can fix my laptop by then.

Date Posted: 9/4/2021

“Share the heat,” Hoseok complained, tugging the blanket from my cocooned form.

October ‘s days were chilly but as soon as the sun set, it was freezing. I was propped up on the couch, surrounded by pillows and a king sized blanket tucked around me. Mom sat on the recliner to my left, the reason behind my assortment of pillows, and Hoseok was shoving his way into the occupied seat on my right. Well, my legs were occupying it.

“There’s a while couch right there ass hat.” I whined as he lifted my legs and placed them on his lap. This wasn’t so bad- he was warm- but the sibling bond between us made sure to complain.

“I don’t want to sit next to dad, he’s way too excited over the game.” Hobi pulled out his phone and scrolled aimlessly.

“When’s Namjoon gonna be here? His team is kicking ass.`` Dad was lively when it came to soccer. It was cute though and I loved how animated he’d get with each goal. But the kicker is that he and Namjoon rooted for other teams. Hobi, Jin, and I all sided with dad on the sports front but Joonie picked a shitty team that’s been coming up in the last couple of years. Maybe the heart attack he nearly gave dad ten years ago was worth it- if the pride in my dad’s eyes were anything to go by.

Joonie was our wild card, he seemed to pick the most difficult path just because he liked the challenge. He’d always do the opposite of what we expected, whether it was the sudden law school decision or boycotting Christmas one year. But today was probably the most surprising.

Jungkook apparently wasn’t a sports fan until this season started, my dad’s enthusiasm rubbed off onto him and now it was funny to see him white-knuckling a sprite over a bad call. Taehyung was taking a nap upstairs and mom was idly reading some seedy romance novel if the blush on her face was anything to go by. Well it was probably the shirtless man emblazoned on the cover that truly gave it away.

Hobi sighed and tossed his phone over onto the side table, he closed his eyes and melodramatically threw his arm over his face as he rested against the back of the loveseat. I rolled my eyes, “what’s it now buttercup?”

He huffed at my nickname, “Jimin isn’t responding.” He dropped his arm to pout at me as if I could help the situation at all.

“You know he’s probably working right now?” I nudged his arm with one of my feet.

His pout turned into a full blown frown as he made puppy eyes at me. “Yeah but that doesn’t mean i can’t miss him.”

“OH, so you’re going to finally admit that you’re dating him?” The delighted smile that ripped it’s way across my face made the frown completely fall off of his.

“Oh shit.”

His shock made me full bellied laugh, “Mom! Hobi finally sa-”

“Shut up! You tricked me!” he hissed as he covered my mouth, I smiled evilly as I licked the back of his hand to deter him.

“The baby.” Jungkook snapped, ripping Hobi's hand off my face. How did he manage to get across the room so quickly? Beyond me. There was a cloudy sort of anger in his face, one where he knew he shouldn’t be angry but couldn’t help it.

“Kookie, I'm fine.” I reached up to hold his wrist as he let go of Hobi's hand. He looked down on me tersely, his eyes colder than usual.

“Hoseok, how many times do your mother and I have to say to be gentler with your sister? You two are honestly getting too old for this.” Dad scolded, his hand on Hobi’s shoulder. I could see him curling into himself and suddenly I felt small.

“Dad, I'm okay, Hoseok and I were just playing. You know he’d never hurt me or the baby.`` I let go of Jungkook's wrist and tried to sit myself up more. It was hard this late into the pregnancy.

“You need to be more careful too, you’re way too rowdy these days.” he chastised me and I could feel the anger at being talked down to. I’m not a child anymore.

“No, this is my baby and my body, I get to decide when it’s too rowdy. We weren’t wrestling or fighting and I could easily breathe. We were doing nothing wrong, why are you acting like this?” My tone was cold and I forced myself up into a standing position. Jungkook stepped away from the couch so i could have enough room.

“y/n baby, you know i didn’t mean to hurt your feelings-” i cut him off; i was fuming.

“Well you did. You basically said that either my big brother is going to hurt me or that I'm incapable of judging how much energy I can exert. We’re all adults in this room, why did you two have to intervene?” my glare turned to Jungkook, he hardened his gaze.

“The baby’s hormones are-”

“No more baby excuses,” I cut him off. “I know he’s fine, he’s twisting and kicking just as he’s always been.”

“The baby’s hormones are-”

“Stop Jungkook.” I held up a hand, the anger bubbling up to the surface. I needed to cool down before I lashed out. I could feel the heat coursing through my arms and filling my chest.

“No, Y/n he’s right I didn't notice it till you stood up but the baby’s hormones have gotten really strong all of a sudden.” Hoseok chimed in. still seated, he reached out and touched my stomach. Mom crossed the room and shoved her way through Jungkook and dad to kneel in front of my stomach, accessing my state.

“What? What does that mean?” I cradled my bump, the fear seeping into my words. He felt normal there, my doctor told me if anything were to feel wrong then to trust my instincts and immediately go to the hospital. But this was different, nothing felt wrong.

Taehyung thundered down the stairs, “Y/n? What’s going on down here? I can smell the stress from upstairs,” he took a backseat to the worry on my mind.

“Is something wrong with him? Nothing feels wrong.” I turned to Jungkook, the worry overpowering the shame of the argument we had just had. He was the first to notice so maybe he knew what was wrong.

“I was wrong, holy shit, we should make a doctor’s appointment.” Hoseok suddenly exclaimed, he jumped up and held me at arms length by the shoulders. He looked down to my stomach with a shocked expression.

“Honey, get the keys we’re going to the hospital.” mom barked out. I didn’t even notice her leaving the huddle but she was back at the recliner as she tugged on some tennis shoes.

“No! It's okay! The pheromones are showing that she’s okay too.” Jungkook finally spoke up, he threw an arm around me and pointed at the baby.

“She?” The confusion in my father’s voice was only a mirror to the rest of the room.

“Yeah, the pheromones got so strong because there’s two.” Hobi explained as he crossed the room and relieved mom of her purse. He placed a calming hand on her shoulders. Shoulders that seemed to be leveled with her ears with the abrupt stress.

“You mean twins? It's a bit late to find that out don’t you think?” she all but hissed at her third son. Mom was visibly anxious right now, something I had never seen before. She was usually so calm and cheerful around us.

“Mom, you’ve said it yourself, y/n is bigger than most pregnancies.”

“I mean yeah but we’ve gone to the doctor twenty times over the summer and I think he’d find another baby in there.” I chimed in, coming to mom’s other side. I think it helped with calming her down because her shoulders lowered a bit.

“I can smell both, I can smell her all of a sudden alongside him.” Taehyung wrapped his arms around me, his head burrowing into my shoulder. His grip on me was tighter than usual.

“But Tae that doesn’t make sense.” I turned in his grasp, facing the snow leopard hybrid, my disbelief written across my face.

“He’s had a very strong scent and a very strong heartbeat, maybe he just masked hers.” Jungkook stepped into my bubble once again. He was on the other side of Tae but seemed to block off any others from joining in the clique.

“But the ultrasounds only show one baby.” I reasoned out, my right hand reaching behind me to rest on my mother’s shoulder. Accepting there was a second was terrifying, I was barely holding myself together for the one pregnancy. Adding on another? Was I eating enough? Taking enough precautions? Maybe dad was right in intervening today.

“Back in the day they couldn’t find Seokjin’s penis and told us we’d be having a girl. It was a bit of a shock when he came out.” Dad. Of course, I've heard this story before, ultrasounds weren’t always perfect.

“What should i do?” I was scared and it was evident in the shake of my voice, Taehyung only hugged me harder.

“Hey guys, what's going on here?” Namjoon’s voice shattered the tension of the room. Seeing him and the dark haired male next to him gave me a chance to breathe.

Hoseok flitted across the room, his excitement at seeing our older brother evident in the wagging of his feather duster of a tail. “Joon, you're going to be an aunt and an uncle.”

“What?”

“Hobi that’s not how it works and you know it.” Mom chastised with a small shake of her head. Hoseok was a blessing to us all when tensions were high. “Who’s this?”

Namjoon seemed to freeze up a bit before throwing an arm around the guy hovering behind him a bit. Said man flushed lightly at the attention turning to him and in the soft light of the living room I could barely make out a pair of silky black ears atop his head. “This is Min Yoongi, he’s my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” I sputtered out, breaking the moment of silence that enveloped the living room. I could see dad from my peripheral making his way to the doorway with a smile.

“Yeah, problem?” Joonie’s eyes were narrowed at me but eased up at the grin I was sporting.

Pulling away from Taehyung a bit, I sneered at Hobi. “Hoseok- he told us about his boyfriend before you could. How does that feel?”

Hoseok groaned before stomping over to me to grind out: “Oh my god you're annoying and technically i said it first.”

“But you didn’t tell mom and dad.” I taunted, the faux misery on my brother’s face would fuel me for months. Taehyung sat on the loveseat behind him and tugged at the hem of my shirt for me to join him.

“They’ve met Jimin before though and according to you i’m not subtle.” Hobi argued, his hand on his hip. Jungkook followed Tae and I down to the seat and I was wedged between the two with my legs in Kook’s lap. He gently rubbed circles into my swollen ankles as Hobi and I glared at each other.

“Anyway, what's this about me being an aunt now?” Joonie interrupted the stare down with Yoongi by his side, our parents must have finally let them out of their interrogation.

“These three are suddenly claiming I'm pregnant with twins.” I explained with a flick of my wrist, the stress of the situation (that was only a few minutes ago) seemed as if it were twelve years in the past.

“Um, I can smell two scents too.” Yoongi’s soft spoken words brought back the fear.

“Holy shit, mom! What am I supposed to do? Should we go to the hospital?” I tried to push myself up into a sitting position but Taehyung held me gently to his chest.

“The babies are happy, I don't think they’re in danger. “He hummed softly into my ear. I could feel the sincerity behind his words. He rubbed a hand up my arm gently and started to purr. An attempt to ease my anxiety.

“Danger or not- we still need to confirm if there are actually twins. That’s a nightmare in itself. That’s double of everything I was sort of ready for. Wait, what if I give birth prematurely- don’t twins come early?” there was panic rising in my chest.

“Mom and Dad went to their room, they’re recovering from the unexpected news but Y/n it’s going to be okay. We’ll go to the doctor’s tomorrow, together,” Hoseok reminded me, he softly ruffled my hair as he leaned down to kiss the top of my forehead. Still I looked around the room for my mother. The one who holds all the answers to my pregnancy fears. Namjoon, Hoseok, and Yoongi, all stood above us three, all showing a different expression. Namjoon looked apprehensive, which was normal for him. Hoseok looked as if he were trying to tame a wild animal. Yoongi thought he looked stunned, his eyes blown wide.

“Hobi you’re banned from my ultrasound appointments. You almost broke the equipment.” I reminded him with a forced smile. I could still feel the panic but it was ebbing away. I wasn’t dying, I was safe. The babies were safe. Everything will be okay.

“That’s so rude, I apologized and everything.” he crossed his arms, generously taking the bait. Knowing that Joonie would laugh at his expense.

“We’ll go with you, we haven’t been able to go since Hoseok has been.” Taehyung declared, way too happy for me to decline, and I smiled softly at him. I was held up against his torso, his head just a few inches above my own. He leaned down and rubbed his forehead against my own.

“You’re going to scent mark my sister in front of me?” Namjoon sputtered indignantly, causing Tae to freeze all of a sudden.

“Namjoon, that’s not scent marking.” Hoseok laughed and shoved at his shoulder playfully.

“Actually, we feline hybrids scent mark like that instead of that mess you canine hybrids do. I scent marked Namjoon earlier in the same way.” Yoongi crossed his arms and seemed to glare down at Tae. I was a bit shocked to say the least.

Hoseok had explained it to me when we were younger, scent marking was a hybrid instinct, and it had two different connotations. There was a familial way and a romantic way to cover another person in their pheromones. Hoseok would hug us and hold our hands growing up to rub just enough of himself on us to comfort himself that we were his family. Especially when we were younger and playing with larger groups of children or when there was a big event. The familial way would only last a few hours and was more of a comforting thing for family and very close friends to help with bonding.

Hoseok had explained the more romantic way was to imbue another’s scent for a much longer time and it was done by stimulation to the scent glands which meant that they would lick each other’s scent glands. He had been tomato red explaining this to me when he had found another hybrid’s scent on me that was much stronger than his own. When I explained that I was just playing with a hybrid at recess and they hugged me he seemed to melt into the floor in embarrassment.

Taehyung was staring up at Namjoon with an indecipherable expression. The massage on my ankles had stopped at Namjoon's exclamation and my glance at Jungkook showed him to be in the same emotionless stare down but instead he was staring down Yoongi. He knew too, but why hadn’t he told me?

“She’s part of our pack, of course I would scent her.” Taehyung had no emotions in his words, the monotonous response seemed to aggravate my brother.

“Wait,” I held my hand up to the seething man before turning to his boyfriend. “I’m confused. Hobi said that licking my neck would be romantic scent marking and hugging was familial scent marking. Which would this be?”

My question caused all four hybrids to freeze up, Hobi’s face once again lighting up in embarrassment.

“Uh, he said that? Well, uh, that’s wrong.” Yoongi forced out, his face turning a light shade of pink.

“Hybrids themselves decide what the type of scent marking it is when they release the pheromones, and there’s a lot of different meanings that could exist. Typically a more familial scenting would be a hug- so that part is right- but also kissing the top of your head could work. Licking your scent glands isn’t a romantic way for scent marking, it’s more sexual.” Yoongi's face almost matched Hoseok’s at this point. “Romantically speaking there’s a lot of ways you can scent someone- like rubbing your necks against each other which is common amongst the canine hybrids. For us feline hybrids we rub our faces against the person, like he had done to you. The pheromones typically let us know, but he’s not releasing heavy enough pheromones for us other hybrids to notice, but rubbing his face against yours is claiming you as his in feline standards.”

“Oh,” I could feel the hybrid underneath me tense up as Yoongi's explanation came to an end. I glanced up at him to see him still staring down my brothers.

“I’m still a little confused but thank you Yoongi. Namjoon, Hoseok, I’ll take it from here, I don't need you hovering over us for this conversation. In fact, I think I'll take this conversation elsewhere, you three have fun watching the game. Joonie, dad recorded this and last week’s matches for you.” I worked my way into a standing position with Taehyung’s help and made my way to the stairs, both Taehyung and Jungkook glued to my sides.

“It was really nice meeting you Yoongi,” I smiled at him and waved my goodbyes as I made my way up. We made our way into my room, the two hovering in the doorway. Just like I had met them. I took a deep breath and settled onto the bed.

[slutforagoodsmut]

Imagine: Dracula’s daughter

She had always been a daddy’s girl, that was certain. Since she was an infant she was attached to him by the hip, always followed him around the castle, always found him fascinating. Of course she loved her mother and Alucard as well. Days her father was busy she’d stay in her mother’s laboratory, watching Lisa mix medicines and asking questions.

“What is this?” she’d ask, barely able to look over the table. Her mother would only laugh and pick her up, sitting her down on the smooth slab of her work space. 

“This is a new medicine I’m working on. It will help sick people become strong and healthy, just like you!” Lisa would poke her daughter’s tummy and the little dhampir girl would squirm in a fit of giggles. She loved her mother, she looked up to her.

Her and her brother always found things to do around the castle, painting and writing poetry, playing tag or hide and seek, which Alucard always won for some odd reason. 

“You cheated!” she whined, crossing her arms. 

“I did not!” Alucard stuck his tongue out at his sister. “I’m just older and faster than you!”

“By a minute! You are older by a minute!” 

And at the end of the day, the young dhampir would always find herself in her father’s study, reading a book beside him or begging him to read to her. She’d always end up falling asleep in his lap and he’d carry her to bed, tucking her in and kissing her goodnight. He loved her, he loved his little girl with all his undead heart. Of course there was Lisa, the love of his life, and he did love his children equally, but she always had a special place in his heart.

As the years went on, the girl blossomed into a beautiful young woman. She had long, onyx locks like her father and a sharp tongue like her mother. She was snarky and always had something to say, but she was kind and she was loving, and she had such a big heart full of passion and wonder. She wanted to help others just like her mother, often visited houses of the ones who Lisa was close to and aided her mother if she needed it. Alucard and her loved to duel one another, and she made sure she always won. They picked on each other and instigated but it was all out of great fun. The princess took long walks with her father at night and he told her about his new discoveries between vampires and humans, and her being her, was always fascinated and wanted to know more. 

Like Alucard and her mother, she had the privilege of stepping out into sunlight without a problem. She grew her fangs in before her brother when she was a small infant, which to this day she enjoys hanging over his head. She was tall and strong, and very fast, as well as very skilled with a sword. She had long nails she could extend and retract and could turn into animals, making it easier to stalk her prey at night. 

Everything was....perfect, you might say. Her life was perfect, sure she lacked friends but she had a wonderful home and a loving family that she could depend on. 

That all changed after that horrific night in 1475. When Lisa Tepes was killed everything crumbled to dust. The love in the castle had disappeared, it was so cold and dark and stunk of misery. 

She grew strained from her father once Alucard had left home. She didn’t want him to go and he didn’t want to leave her, but they both knew it was for the best. 

In a year, it was almost like two complete strangers shared a home. Dracula made no effort to connect with his daughter as he was so caught up with damning the whole world to hell, and in that time his daughter pushed him away. She barely spoke with him, didn’t even attempt to at this point. He was so angry, so angry with the world and with everyone in it. Lisa wouldn’t have wanted this, her children knew that. Their mother was a part of the human race, mortality ran through the children’s blood. They were a part of them, and their father wanted to burn them all. 

She grew angrier and angrier with her father as the dreadful days passed on. He let these other vampires into their home and they did whatever they wanted! And what did he do, wallow away into nothing in his library, sitting in front of the fireplace every single day! Pathetic! Absolutely pathetic! 

One day, she had enough. Dracula’s daughter couldn’t stand a single day more in that castle, enraged with her father she planned to leave. She considered leaving without telling him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. So, with a satchel over her shoulder holding her most valuable things, she walked into her father’s library. The back of his chair was to her, and yes, he stared into his fireplace like he always had. 

“I’m leaving.” she spoke up, gripping the strap of her bag. Nothing, he didn’t say a word, he didn’t even move a muscle in his seat. His daughter only sighed, a tear rolling down her cheek as she turned away. “Goodbye, father.”

Part of her never wanted to see him ever again. Part of her wanted nothing more to do with her father, but she knew deep down their paths would cross again, and she’d end up in that castle once more. 

She was alone, really alone this time, she had no one to turn to, she kept her distance from strangers and if they gave her trouble she’d risk the danger and bear her fangs, making them all run away in fear. The one night, one fateful night, she had run into her brother and two others who accompanied him. She was running through the woods as night creatures attacked, she’d slaughtered as many as she could, but they were closing in on her. In that moment she felt powerless till three beings came out of the thick woods and ended the monsters’ rampage.

“Alucard?” she whispered, leaning herself against a tree, holding her side which bled a concerningly amount. 

He gasped, his eyes widened with shock as he looked at his dear sister. “Sister?”

“You have a sister?” The strange woman spoke up in her thick accent. 

“Oh god, not another one of you....” A tall dark haired man grumbled, slapping his hand over his face. 

Alucard’s sister ran over to him and threw her arms around him as hard as she could. She couldn’t believe it. She had so many questions. How was he here? Why wasn’t he underground like he said he’d be? Who were these people? 

Overtime, these questions were answered. The woman was a speaker, her name was Sypha, and that other oaf of a man was a Belmont, Trevor Belmont, a vampire’s sworn enemy. She thought they died off years ago, but never mind that. Her brother had woken from his year of slumber when the two of them accidentally found him (more so Trevor than Sypha) and asked if he’d help them in their quest.

“We’re going to the castle...” Alucard spoke softly. His sister sat across from him, staring quietly into the fire they had made. She wasn’t stupid, she could put the puzzle pieces together. They were going there to end Dracula’s terror for once and for all. Her heart broke, just like it had before. She had to come to terms with killing their father, it was such a painful thing to imagine but...if that meant millions and millions of people would survive, then so be it. 

“It just hurts, ya’know? I mean, how could anyone go through with the idea of murdering their father?”

“He’s not our father, not anymore at least.”

Alucard was right, she hated to admit it. That monster conducting all of this genocide wasn’t their father. Their father was loving and caring, and this man....wasn’t any of that. The king of darkness was blinded by a rage and there was no looking back. Their father died when Lisa Tepes took her last breath. 

One by one, she slit the throats of dozens. Striking her sword through vampire soldiers, beheading the generals who held councils in her very home, the ones who practically took her home away from her. Was it truly still her home, she couldn’t tell, all she knew it as now was Vlad Dracula’s hideout, nothing more. She would get her revenge on every last one of them, her fists driving through their chests and yanking out their still beating hearts, crushing them in her palms. How dare they mock her home as if it were their own little sanctuary. How dare they. 

“Alucard--you, Belmont and Sypha fight off those night creatures! I’m going to find our father!” She yelled as she climbed the steps. 

Alucard impaled a night creature “Be careful! He’ll hurt you!” 

But she was already down the hall and up the steps to her father’s library. Millions of thoughts ran through her mind. The guilt of it all, having to go through an act that would be considered unspeakable under God’s law. Half vampire or not, she knew she’d be damned to hell in the end. 

She took in a few breaths before peeking in. Her father, to her surprise, was not slumped in his chair but standing, he grabbed one of his forgemasters, Isaac, and threw him through his mirror. Isaac let out a scream and the mirror broke into pieces, falling on the ground. 

“Father.” She spoke, walking into the room. Dracula tensed up, turning his body towards the door, bearing his fangs. 

“My child, the betrayer.”

Her chest tightened, eyes wide. Betrayer? He thinks she betrayed him?

“I did no such thing.” 

“Lies!” He snapped, his eyes blood red. “You walked out of this castle and turned your back on your own father!” 

“Well you had already turned your back on me!” She screamed at him. “You didn’t try to make me stay! You didn’t even attempt to!”

“I knew what side you were on from the beginning. You were a lost cause.” Dracula’s voice was cold and harsh. 

Tears sprouted at the corner of her eyes. “How could you even say that?! You act like you were the only one who lost someone!” 

Dracula turned away from his daughter, seething with anger. 

“You weren’t there! You were never there! All you’ve done was cause havoc!” 

“I did it all for her!” Dracula roared, whipping around and towering his large body over hers. 

“And look where that got you!” She bellowed back at him, eyes now blood red as tears streamed down her face. “Look where that got you. You pushed Alucard away, you pushed me away. Mother would never--” Her body was thrown across the room and she hit the bookshelf, falling to the ground. She wheezed out, coughing out blood. He struck her. He...struck her. Her vision was foggy, but she could make out her father standing on the other side of the room. She tried to stand up but she couldn’t, her body didn’t let her. Again she tried, but she couldn’t do it. She hadn’t had blood in such a long time, she’s grown too weak. Why she didn’t consider that going into this mess she doesn’t know, but it was a stupid mistake. Suddenly her world went dark, and she laid unconscious on the ground. 

It wasn’t too long till she had woken up from her spot, her father no longer in the library. She could hear screaming from above her. She gasped, getting up as quick as she could and stumbling over herself. Alucard. 

She ran and ran, going up another floor, and then another. The dhampir suddenly collided with Sypha and Belmont. 

“You’re alright!” Sypha exclaimed. 

“Where is he!? Where is Alucard?!”

“Upstairs, with Dracula!” 

Her vampire senses tingled. His room. They were in Alucard’s old room. She bolted up the floors and down the hall. They were screaming, things were being shattered, she could feel the whole castle shake beneath her feet. 

Alucard was thrown against the wall, their father closing in on him, ready to finish the job. 

“ENOUGH!” His sister shrieked at the top of her lungs, stepping in between them.  Her father stopped in his tracks. 

There she stood, sword in both hands, pointing the tip against her own chest. 

“What--What are you doing?!” Dracula bellowed. 

Alucard shook his head, fear in his eyes. “No, don’t do it!” 

“I’d rather kill myself than live in this world with you, you monster!” 

With that, somehow Dracula had come to his senses. The night filled the room, the moonlight shining in through the window. Dracula gasped, his eyes no longer flaming with hatred, but filled with sadness. His daughter kept the sword where it was and she began to cry, hard, endless tears rushing down her pale face. 

“Look what you’ve done father...” She sobbed, hands trembling. 

Dracula stared at her, then at her brother, then finally his hands. “What am I doing? I....” he choked on his words. “My children, my son and daughter. I’m killing them Lisa. I’m killing our children.” He walked over to a painting that hung on the wall. It was of all of them; Dracula and Lisa, both holding their bundles of joy. He looked at his children again and truly realized how much hurt he’s caused them. How much pain he’s caused his daughter. She mourned in their home, alone, while he selfishly sought out revenge. “My daughter would rather end her life than live in a world with her father.” he looked at her, tears now running from his eyes, “These are the walls we raised them in, loved them unconditionally. These are the walls we painted, the toys we made for our son. I’m so sorry....I....what have I done?” Dracula walked over to her and took the sword out of her hands, pointing it’s sharp tip against his own chest and placing it back in her hands. 

“Your greatest gifts to me, and I’m killing them.”

Alucard got up and stood next to his sister, placing his hands around hers. He wouldn’t let her do this alone. 

“I must already be dead...”

Her heart pounded in her chest so hard she thought she was going to throw up. “I love you....” the girl managed to get out in a strangled cry, looking her father in the eyes. She could see it in his pleading eyes, silently begging them to put an end to his misery, to theirs and the world’s. In those quiet moments, he hoped she knew how much he truly loved her. How special she really was. 

She shut her eyes tightly for a second as her and her brother drew her sword into her father’s chest. He groaned in pain, blood spilling out of his mouth as more coppery tears spilled out of his eyes. 

She would forever be his little girl. 

WOOOOH that was a long one! I told ya’ll I’d write some sad shit. Ok I’m gonna go cry myself to sleep now, like, comment and reblog!🥳🥳

[marvelandsuchstuff]

Sleepless Nights and Golden Sunlight (Corpse husband x reader)

A/N: helllllooooo everyone, I think like most of the internet I have been obsessing over this man for the past week and couldn’t help myself. I would however like to take this time to say that I will fully respect this man and if he ever does want this taken down - I will do so :). Anyways I wrote this shit in 12 hours and it’s now 2:45 am lol but I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: None, unless I can kill you with softness

It was well past 6 am when the sun had crept through the sheer curtains of the room (y/n) lay asleep in. The golden light streamed on to the grey bed in which she was peacefully in her own world. She was curled up around one of the pillows, with a small smile cracking through her soft lips.

In one of the other rooms, a man sat at a desk trying to record a video for the third time in the past four hours. He was growing increasingly furious with the script in front of him, no longer wanting to attempt reading it out. Put it down to the lack of sleeping for more than three hours or the fact that he was pushing himself too hard again with the rapid rate of growth over these past couples of weeks. But what he did know is that he needed to finish this video, however, no matter what he did, he just couldn’t seem to do it.

That’s when he finally gave up and slammed his hands down on the desk in front of him, not noticing how loud it had been. He sighed and looked at the time on the side of the screen and starred as the minutes passed. Great. Another sleepless night had passed him by without a shutter of a thought. That’s when he heard a sleepy girl’s voice from the doorway.  

(y/n) awoke from her peaceful state when she suddenly heard a forceful thump from down the hall. She hurriedly pulled herself up, dazed and confused and still half asleep, slowly gathering her surroundings. The golden sun bursting into the room now blinded her eyes as she tried to look around at where she was. (y/n) put her hand up blocking it from her line of sight and sighed with relief as she realized she was at corpses' house, in his bed. Safe.  

Although this fact comforted her, she still was mildly distressed at the sound she heard moments before. Almost immediately she noticed how she was alone in the king bed, which wasn’t surprising, in fact, it was normal for her. She knew corpses’ sleeping habits often kept him awake until ludicrous hours in the morning and often he would only end up getting a few hours sleep before returning to reality. Often she would have to drag him to bed, only for him to leave once she had fallen asleep in his arms and he made sure she wasn’t worried about him. So, she decided to go find out what was happening and where her boyfriend had gotten to.

She put her hand down and slowly swung herself out of the warm covers onto the cold hardwood floors. She pushed herself off the mattress, steadily gaining her balance and then slowly walking to the door, still very tired from not having enough sleep. She then opened one of the bedroom’s double doors while leaning on it for a bit of support. (y/n) roamed down the hallway, her feet cold from the wood under them, searching for her boyfriend.

She noticed the dark purple glow coming out of his gaming room, which only could mean he was in there. As soon as this realisation occurred, she felt her legs growing even weaker and used her last source of strength to get over to the door frame. She quickly lent herself against it to support herself before she entirely collapsed onto the floor.

Once (y/n) had gathered herself again, she glanced over toward the computer monitor and lo and behold saw corpse staring at something on the screen. He seemed like he was in a different world, taking no notice of the small girl behind him. After about a minute (y/n) built up enough energy to let out a small and soft “hi”.

The chair swivelled around to face her, and a weak smile crept onto corpses’ face, “hey baby”,

However, he soon realised the state (y/n) was in and quickly dashed over to her before she completely fell to the floor.

“Princess, what are you doing awake?” he asked with concern as she sank deep into his chest for some stability.

“Hmmm, I’m ok”

“You sure, because right now you're clinging onto me as if gravity didn’t exist” he chuckled lightly.

“Yeah,” she whispered and giggled a bit, “Anyways I heard a loud noise and wanted to make sure no one had come to kidnap you,”

He laughed again, “Well I’m standing here are I? So I must be fine unless I’ve been given some drug to make me hallucinate the most beautiful person in the world. Which in that case I want to be on this forever.”

(y/n) laughed and smiled into his chest. They both just stood like this for a moment taking in the silence and the warmth of each other. Their breaths aligned creating a bliss in which the earth itself shattered away and nothing else mattered. Two souls becoming more intertwined with each second passing by. Heaven.

Corpse was the one to finally break the silence, softly asking, “Do you want to go back to bed?”

(y/n) nodded into him, “mhm, can you come with me?”

“Of course princess, I wasn’t planning on leaving you anytime soon” he mumbled.

Then suddenly he manoeuvred around her, still making sure she had balance. He carefully picked the girl up bridal style and moved over to turn the lights off. At first, (y/n) was a bit taken aback by this but quickly adjusted to his body and curled into him. She closed her eyes softly caving into the darkness but wanting to stay awake until they got into the bed.

Corpse carried the girl in his arms down the hall, no longer concerned about the video he left or the lack of sleep he had. All that mattered was his wonderful and sweet little girlfriend who kept him sane at the worst of times. He looked down at her and he wondered how she ended up with him.

“Why’d you choose me?” he whispered, not sure if she heard him.

This made (y/n) open her eyes, now full of concern. “Because I love you, I knew it then and I know it now”

They both recounted the night they met. It wasn’t much, the met when poki had invited (y/n) to play a couple of games of among us and he was there. (y/n) remembers instantly feeling overwhelmed by even the few amount of people there. Corpse realised this a couple of rounds into the game after poki kept asking why she was so quiet compared to normal. He had seen her talk in poki’s videos a few times and was wondering the same because she was often more vocal in those videos. So he decided to message her to see if she was ok, seeing the same signs as he does with himself. For some reason (y/n) decided to tell him what was going on in hopes that he could help, knowing that he also struggled with these things.

After that, they immediately became really close and both were happy that they finally found someone who fully understood one another. The rest became history and now they were here, together.

“I love you too. So much,” Corpse said, smiling as he pushed the second of the double doors open. He then walked over to the opposite side of the bed and then carefully laid the girl down on the mattress. He moved the pillow she had been curled up against to make sure her head was supported.

After he put her down he went to the wall with the control panel and lowered the blackout blinds so they wouldn’t be disturbed by the already light sky outside. Then, he went back around to the other side of the bed and climbed on top of the grey sheets. He pulled the covers over both of them and tucked them into (y/n) side to keep her even warmer. Then snaking one hand over her torso and leaving one to play with her hair, he pulled closer to her body

“Are you going to tell me what was that noise I heard now?” (y/n) quietly asked,

“It was nothing, I just got mad at a video I was trying to film”

With this, (y/n) turned over to face him, searching for the emotions on his face. A strange look of sadness and anger and hatred she knew all too well. Very often this was corpses’ permanent emotional state where it is for something like a video or mean tweet, or more often himself. Every time she sees this side of him, it breaks her heart because he, of all the people in the world, definitely doesn’t deserve to feel like this.

The worst part is, however, often she feels as though there is nothing she can do to help. The best way she has found is to be there for him, whenever and whatever he needs because she knows he would do the same for her.

“Can I do anything?”

However, what she didn’t realize was how much she already does to help, just by being there. Because often if she’s happy and doing ok, he would always come back to her. His own personal light in the dark.

“Get some sleep for me baby. That’s all that I want you to do,” He replied, running his hand through her hair.

“Ok, but please stay with me?” she asked as she fell back into her own little world of dreams.

“Of course princess, I wasn’t planning on leaving you anytime soon”

[ill-heart]

What fear makes you do (Jalim motorbike and leather AU - Part 2)

Okay, so it’s gonna be a three part OS after all. It went beyond help, but... Enjoy the hell? 

Like I said before: sorry, I’m not sorry.

Summary: Salim saw Jason kissing another person. He saw it with his own eyes but how could he accept the idea of betrayal? Full of rage and sadness, he waits for Jason to come and explain him... But Jason may never come.

Pairing: Jason Kolchek/Salim Othman

Others pairings mentionned: Jason Kolchek/Clarice Strokes, Clarice Strokes/José Gomez, Nick Kay/Rachel King

Words: ~2.5K

Chapters: 2/3

**

Salim never knew what to expect from Jason. He understood his need for silence and privacy, accepting to keep their relationship as it was; a secret. Truth be told, he liked this decision and made it his own, because he feared Zain’s reaction. Despite them getting closer since the boy became prospect in the Semper Fi club, the Iraqi was aware of his lack of knowledge about him. Sometimes, he chatted with Mels, Jason’s sister and Zain’s girlfriend for now, and he felt guilt falling on his shoulders when he discovered new things about his son. Even though, his heart was glad he finally found someone with who to be honest, the father in him regretted he wasn’t the one. Of course, he knew children had to grow and leave the house but… Salim wondered if he could survive another departure.

Tonight, God send him an answer with an awful scenery; Jason kissing someone else.

The librarian wasn’t in town those last days, he left his library in the merciful and skillful hands of his only employee, Amy. He had a little trip around Charming with two friends he made in the city; one of them was Allan Pike, deputy sheriff. But due to their other friend, they shortened the journey and so Salim thought he could visit the biker.

A party welcomed him in the bar owned by the club. Quite easily, he understood the meaning of it and since he learned, after months of dating, how much Jason’s heart was fragile, he searched for him. Even if their lips couldn’t meet, nor their words couldn’t be whispered into their ears, Salim was determined to help the younger man. In the best way I could, he thought when he reached the rooftop. The best way I could, he grinded his teeth and ran away from the stairs.

If he has stayed in front of Jason, the Iraqi would have punched him in the face. And trying his best to calm his racing mind and the anger boiling and him wasn’t enough. Another failure of his own, it seemed.

He rushed outside but wore a soft smile when bikers and old ladies asked him why he was in such a hurry. “Jason is with Clarice, and I really don’t want to be the third wheel up here. I will see him later; he doesn’t need me right now.”

These words hurt so much but he kept a straight face in front of the drunk men and women. No one cared enough to hear the pain in his voice, nor to see the glimpse of tears in his eyes. And frankly, Salim didn’t want anyone to notice how wounded he was.

After what felt like an eternity, the librarian opened the front door and breathed once more. Behind the walls, men and women were dancing, kissing and maybe fucking while a loud music covered their voices.

“He doesn��t need him at all…” The man finally whispered as his body trembled with despair.

He never thought what to expect from Jason, and now… He knew he couldn’t expect anything from him except lies and betrayals.

۩๑ ๑۩

When he managed to crawl back to his home, Salim thought of throwing Jason’s stuff in the trash or out of the window. At first, rage clouded his mind and played, again and again, this kiss between the biker and Clarice. How could he have done this to me? His fingers trembled in fury when he opened the closet and grabbed the clothes, but something stopped him. The moment his grip tightened on the pieces of fabric, all his anger faded away; replaced by deep and stifling void.

Suddenly tired, he fell on his bed and saw tears falling on the ground. He started crying without noticing; such a child I am… And an oppressive feeling of loneliness suffocated him. It was his wife’s departure all over again. Another loved one decided to leave him behind, because he wasn’t good enough, because he wasn’t attractive enough, because he was him.

His eyes, misted over by the sadden river overwhelming him, fell on the clothes Jason’s left in here. After only one month of dating, Salim accepted him in his house. He let his own room being filled with the biker masculine and unique perfume. He gave so much of himself to Jason, and the man only answered with a brutal punch on his hopes.

“I’m too old for this…” The Iraqi difficulty whispered, before he collapsed on the sheets. He curled up and brought his lover’s clothes against his nose. For a second, he forgot about the betrayal and dreamed of Jason cuddling in the bed with him. He pictured them looking at the ceiling, talking about many things – insignificant and essential ones –, then kissing each other softly before sleep took over them. “I’m too… Old for this…”

۩๑ ๑۩

He didn’t know how many hours he spent crying on the biker’s shirts and jeans; too much, probably. And after a while, which seemed like an eternity, he fell asleep. His world became black, but headache followed him and greeted him when he woke up. Salim was a wreck, all because he couldn’t bear the thought of abandonment once more.

Morning didn’t make anything better, as the world spun around him. The librarian felt sick, he almost called Amy to tell her to take care of the shop today, but staying at his home wouldn’t comfort him. After a long shower, he changed his clothes and got to work. His employee noticed how bad he looked but was kind enough to keep her worries in her throat. Salim thanked her consideration with a subtle nod then they both worked.

Deliveries to gather. Customers’ request to make. Books to tidy in the shelfs. Men and woman to welcome. Cashing. Etc.…

At it went like this all day.

Deliveries to gather. Customers’ request to make. Books to tidy in the shelfs. Men and woman to welcome. Cashing. Etc.…

All day, without Jason bursting in the library to explain himself.

Deliveries to gather. Customers’ request to make. Books to tidy in the shelfs. Men and woman to welcome. Cashing. Etc.…

By the time night came, the older man only felt despair and fatigue on his head and shoulders. Yes, he abruptly rejected the biker’s explanation yesterday, but he thought… I thought he would at least come and say something to me. Despite the waiting, the waiting and the hopes, Jason never showed up.

And so, Salim crawled back to his house once more, tears on the edge of his eyelash.

When he put the key on the door lock, he heard the throbbing of a motorbike. His heart skipped a beat, he quickly turned around with his glare full of hope, but there was no Jason to be seen. It was just Zain, coming home on his bike. I didn’t even notice his absence last night, the man thought with guilt.

“Baba? Are you okay?”

No, I’m not. A gentle but tired smile grew on Salim’s lips as he held his son against him. “Yes… Yes, don’t you worry.”

“Are you… Sure?”

The librarian answered with a soft kiss on his boy’s forehead, then both of them went inside.

۩๑ ๑۩

Days passed without a single change. Days that became one never-ending week. At this point, Salim’s fury entirely vanished. He wasn’t mad anymore, he just wanted answers, but he couldn’t walk into the garage or the bar of the Semper Fi motorcycle club anymore. Even if his own son was part of them, the simple thought of the place sickened him. For only the image of Clarice and Jason kissing came to his mind.

It's not just that… Such a coward he was. The Iraqi feared something more than his memory, he dreaded the view of his lover’s and this woman happily dating in front of him.

Not knowing felt like Hell, but his heart wouldn’t handle this scenery.

So, he waited. He waited for hours, for days and for nights until a man entered his shop, on a bright afternoon. But he wasn’t Jason.

“Hello, Salim. How are you feeling today? Good, I hope.”

Eddie smiled at him then greeted him with a discrete nod of his head. One of the two eldest members of the Semper Fi club came to him, his black leather shining on his back, his sunglasses highlighting the whiteness of his skin.

“Hello… Eddie.” Salim answered with a pathetic attempt to smile back. It felt fake, fake and miserable. “What are you doing here? Zain told me the club was busy with these days.”

“Well, we are busy, indeed.” The biker responded while looking at the shelfs. “But we can always find time for our friends in need…” The Iraqi’s body tensed as Eddie slowly took his sunglasses off, and the smile faded, letting his place to features full of worries. His deep and green eyes looked at Salim for a moment, then his mouth circled with wrinkles gently added: “And you look like a friend in need, Salim.”

After a week of hiding and helpless attempt of copying, the librarian couldn’t contain his pain much longer. He fought it, fought the void devouring him bit by bit but it didn’t change anything. Salim still felt like dying. “I…”

He sighed loudly, hands shivering. “Let me just close the shop before we talk…”

۩๑ ๑۩

Eddie was one of the wisest men Salim knew. Despite his grumpy outward appearance, the biker understood so much with only looking at others. He noticed everything with his sharp green eyes, and always found the words to make people talk or rethink about their actions. From what the Iraqi heard; this old man was the only reason the club didn’t fall into drug trafficking. Voice of reason at full-time, he kept everyone safe and was one of the only men who could stopped Jed when fury took over him. Their friendship offset their worst sides and brought the good out of them.

Salim finally got why many people in the town respected his words and feared his anger. He was everything the librarian wanted to be at sixtyish. Sage and calm, always patient with others.

“I may be old, mister Othman, but I am not blind.” Eddie finally said while looking at the books in the storehouse. “Not yet, if I can add.”

Salim bit his lips. What a strange feeling he felt right now, with the biker circling around him. It was if he was a teenager again, one who was reprimanded by his father. “I don’t really know what to say…” Shame blushed his cheeks then the older man abruptly sat in front of him.

“This.” He pointed his finger at him, eyes preying on his weakness. “This is the problem you have right now, Salim. Because if you don’t know what to say about your feelings, no one can help you. Not even your son.”

Guilt joined the shame in the Iraqi’s heart. “Did he… Did he spoke to you?”

“He didn’t need to; it was written on his face.” Salim was about to sigh deeply, when the biker added, softly: “But, yes, he talked to me. Only after I asked him about what was troubling him.”

Silence fell on the storehouse, all thanks to the librarian’s embarrassment. He lowered his head, felt tears coming at the edge of his eyes when his hands trembled once more. The last he wanted to become, was a burden to his own son. I made him suffer too much after the divorce; I can’t put him through it again. I can’t. Suddenly, Eddie’s hands were on his. “It’s about Jason, right?”

Robbed from his tiring cowardice, Salim nodded, eyes on the flood. “Is it… That obvious?”

“For others? Maybe not, but for Nicolas and me… It is.”

“Why? Did Jason say something about us?”

The older man answered with a raise of his eyebrows. The Iraqi couldn’t help but sigh then a soft and sadden smile spread on his lips. “Obvious because you are not blind, am I wrong?”

“You’re a good listener, that’s encouraging.” They shared a soft grin, then Salim finally confessed some of the things he kept deep into his heart. Hard it was, to put words on his feelings, worries and fears, but Eddie never interrupted him. He only stayed there, eyes compassionate and mouth closed unless the librarian needed some encouragement.

“I… I don’t know what I expected from this, Eddie. Truth be told, I never questioned myself on it, I just accepted it and… Maybe I should have asked. Maybe I misunderstood… Maybe…” Salim sighed on his palm then shrugged his shoulder, tired. “I don’t know.”

“I think you should talk with him; you might be surprised.” The biker declared with a soft voice, before he caressed the man cheeks. “You and he are so young… You might not think so, but there are many things you still got to live. Some bad and some good. You two just need to fix this, maybe it would bring you back together, maybe not… No one knows for sure, but if you don’t try, you’ll never know.” He gently smiled then straightened up, it seemed like his job here was done. “You should give yourselves a chance to make things better, because that’s the only important thing you can do right now; giving a chance to each other.”

And before Salim even noticed, the man put his leather back on and left the storehouse without anymore word.

The Iraqi stayed here a minute or two, then a spark lightened in his heart. Maybe he was too old for this, maybe the truth would hurt and break him… But he couldn’t give up, not until Jason claimed it was over in front of him.

Suddenly full of fire, Salim rushed out of his shop. He almost forgot to close the door behind him and ran to the garage owned by the motorcycle club. He ran like he never did in his whole life, and stormed into the warehouse, enormous drop of sweat falling on his face and body.

He didn’t remember who spotted the other first; maybe it was him who saw Jason talking to Nick about a car, maybe it was Jason who caught the sight of him while Salim regained his breath.

They stared at each other for a while, for seconds which became an eternity then Jason rushed in front of him, eyes confused and full of worries. “… Sa… Salim?”

The other man sighed, took a deep inspiration then said, firmly: “We need to talk.”

Because it was the last important thing to do.

TO BE CONTINUED

[yellowsuitcase]

Intertwined // Draco Malfoy

Request:  Hi, can i request an imagine where Y/N and Draco has been together for a long time but one time, Draco forgot to use protection and didn't care for Y/N in the next morning so she got reallll upset. At first Draco don't understand why Y/N acted like that so he gets angry back at her but then he realises the reason and they make every thing up. Start with rough smut, angst in the middle and end with fluff pleaseee. I'll patiently waiting for you sooo take your time and don't force yourself too much ❤

A/N: I don’t have much to say about this one, I really liked the request, I thought it was really real. Also this takes place after Hogwarts and Y/N + Draco live alone.

Summary: Draco is inconsiderate towards his girlfriend and Y/N is n o t happy about it.

Warning(s): SMUT!!! Unprotected sex, choking, swearing, angst, couple verbally fighting, fluff.

Word Count: 2k

Masterlist

{Not my gif also it’s so dramatic for this lol}

“That’s it, baby girl, ride my cock,” Draco purred as he gripped his girlfriend’s hips, slowly lifting her up and down on his dick. Y/N whimpered, they’d been at it for nearly thirty minutes now, and her pussy was painfully sensitive. Draco had already eaten her out as well as edged her with his fingers. But there she was, bouncing on his cock, wanting to please him. However, after a few more minutes of her riding him, Draco’s grip grew tighter, and he began slamming his hips upwards, pounding himself deep in her pussy.

“Fuck, Draco,” Y/N moaned as she let her legs go limp. Draco flipped them over and was now on top of her. His hand found her throat, and he held it firmly as his hips snapped into her mercilessly. He grabbed her legs and rested them against his shoulders. Y/N watched as he shut his eyes and let himself go, his pace getting even quicker. Loud squelching noises filled the couple’s bedroom, and Y/N could tell he was getting close.

“Such a good girl for me, my perfect little slut,” he grunted, making Y/N whine. She clenched her fingers in the bedsheets and warned him of her approaching orgasm. “Gonna cum again?” he teased. “Go on then, whore, cum on me,” he coaxed. Y/N closed her eyes and focused on the building pressure in her abdomen. But then, she felt Draco slap her clit and found herself cumming instantly from the stimulation. Draco laughed as she tightened her walls around him and scrunched her face in pleasure. He fucked her through her orgasm as his own was advancing. His thrusts became sloppy. Just as Y/N was beginning to whine about the sensitivity, Draco came inside her with a loud groan, his hips pressed flush against her ass. 

When he pulled out, Y/N quickly realized that Draco hadn’t used a condom. “Fuck baby girl, you look so pretty with my cum dripping from your cunt,” Draco breathed, his breath fanning over her swollen pussy. She wriggled her hips to get away from the cool air emerging from his lips, but then he yanked her close and licked a long stripe up her slit, pushing the semen back inside her with his tongue. A guttural moan left Y/N as she arched her back, the overstimulation sending sparks through her body. When Draco pulled away, Y/N expected him to help her into the shower, but she was wrong. Instead, he patted her pussy and flopped onto the bed beside her. 

“Goodnight darling,” he murmured before slipping underneath the covers and turning away from her. Y/N was shocked. This was rather uncharacteristic of Draco. Not using protection and now going to sleep right after sex. Quite frankly, it made her heart clench, and not in a good way. 

Slowly, she scooted herself off their king size mattress and trudged to the bathroom; the soreness between her legs made this a difficult task. Eventually, though, she got inside and immediately sat on the toilet. After she used it, she turned on the shower and sat back down, waiting for it to heat up. She couldn’t shake the confusion and the hurt from her mind. But ultimately, she decided to push those thoughts away and instead focused on cleaning her sweaty, bruised body. Draco’s always quite rough with her during sex, and she enjoyed it, but he had really done a number on her tonight. Maybe when he sees that tomorrow, he’ll apologize, she thought to herself as she rubbed the loofa up and down her arms.

When she eventually slid back into bed with Draco, she couldn’t help but lay her arm over his waist. Sure he’d been a bit inconsiderate tonight, but Y/N still wanted him close. So she stroked his stomach with her thumb as much needed sleep overtook her.

-----------

{The next morning}

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open as she yawned; the bright sunlight streaming from their windows was right on her face. She quickly shielded herself and looked to her left. Draco was still fast asleep. Y/N made sure not to wake him as she got up. Once on her feet, the memories of last night returned thanks to the pain between her legs. She hobbled down the hallway and stairs and made her way to the kitchen. She and Draco had no house elves per Y/N’s request, so they had to make their own meals. Y/N decided that today would be an omelet type of day. So she gathered all the necessary ingredients as well as a pan and began crafting the dish. 

While she was flipping the omelet, she heard Draco coming down the steps. She glanced over at him and watched as he settled into the cozy armchairs in their living room, not even bothering to greet her. Anger began to stir, but Y/N shoved it down and returned her eyes to the omelet, which she found was currently burning. “Shit!” she cursed as she quickly transferred it to a spare plate. 

The sound of a soft laugh caught her attention, and she turned her head to see Draco’s smiling face. Usually, this would amuse her, but not that morning. “Shut your trap,” she muttered as she started making a second omelet. 

“Excuse me?” Draco bellowed. Y/N instinctively tensed but held her ground. 

“You heard me. Shut up.” She heard Draco get to his feet and walk into the kitchen. Y/N’s anger was becoming unignorable now. But she kept her lips shut as he leaned on the counter beside her.

“What’s got you in such a foul mood?” he questioned. Y/N snapped, dropping her spatula on the marble countertop. Her head whipped towards Draco and his eyebrows jumped at the fury visible on her face.

“Why don’t you take a wild guess, Malfoy?” she spat, crossing her arms over her chest. Draco gave her a look of confusion. 

“Or you could just tell me what’s wrong,” he replied.

“Haha, no, I want you to figure it out.”

Draco couldn’t understand what his lover was getting at, and it was making him grow frustrated. “Y/N, I don’t have the patience for this bullshit; just spit it out,” he argued. Y/N shook her head in disbelief and flipped her omelet. 

“The fact that you won’t even stop and think for a second just proves how selfish you are.” This comment made Draco’s blood boil. He stood up straight and clenched his fists at his sides.

“Well, at least I’m not a fucking bitch like you,” he sneered. Y/N gasped, and Draco immediately regretted his words. He could see shiny tears in her eyes as she hurriedly turned off the stove and transferred the omelet to a plate. “Y/N, I didn’t mean that.” She shook her head and fled the kitchen, not even glancing at him as she stormed away. 

Draco kicked the cabinets, enraged with himself. He’d really done it now. And the worst part was he still couldn’t put his finger on why Y/N was so upset in the first place. Surely it wasn’t because of his laughter when she burnt the omelet. But if not that, then what else? Draco ran his hand through his hair as he began to pace in the kitchen. Eventually, though, he stopped himself, grabbed a plate, and started eating. The burnt texture was pretty awful, but Draco forced it down his throat anyway. 

Now with a full stomach, his head felt clear. He retraced his steps in his mind. He had come downstairs, then sat in the living room; that was it. But then he thought farther back, back to the previous night. And that’s when it hit him. “Fuck,” he muttered, dropping his face into his palms, feeling utterly terrible. Could he genuinely have just gone to bed right after sex? Now that he was thinking about it, Y/N’s neck was littered with love bites this morning, and she had looked exhausted. Yet he had done nothing for her, nothing at all. Draco felt sick to his stomach, and not because of the omelet. Without wasting another second, he jumped to his feet and hastily ran upstairs, but not before taking the second dish with him. 

A knock at Y/N’s door halted her tears. She sighed, not really wanting to face her boyfriend right then, but she still wiped her face and opened the door. There stood her blonde-haired boy, a guilty look on his face. “May I?” he asked. Y/N nodded and stepped back, allowing them into their shared bedroom. He set the plate in his hands on his desk and took hesitant steps towards her. It felt as though remorseful tension was in the air, and for a few moments, neither of them said a word. But then Draco lifted his hand and gently cradled her face, making her look up at him.

“I’m so sorry, love. I should have taken care of you last night instead of just falling asleep. And I shouldn’t have called you a bitch or been rude to you this morning. It was completely uncalled for, and I...I feel like an absolute dick, and I’m just really, really sorry.”

Y/N remained silent, simply letting her head rest in his hands. She could tell he was sincere. “I forgive you. But Draco," she started, "I could hardly hold myself up in the shower, and I really needed you. I wanted to cuddle with you like we usually do. And not to mention the fact you didn’t wear a condom, I could get pregnant…” she trailed off. Y/N wasn’t sure if she wanted a family so soon, or even at all. She didn’t think she nor Draco were even close to being ready for such a huge responsibility. But she was pulled from her thoughts by Draco stroking her cheek.

“Y/N, I promise you it will never happen again. You’re everything to me, and I will always take care of you and be there for you whenever you need me. I know I wasn’t last night. Last night I was reckless and a fucking git, but from now on I won't be, I swear it,” Draco declared. His eyes looked fearful as he waited for Y/N to reply. And she did, just not with words. She took a step forward and nestled herself against his chest. Draco immediately wrapped his arms around her and breathed in her scent, feeling at peace, knowing things were okay again. 

“I believe I am due for a cuddle appointment, Dr. Malfoy,” Y/N stated, breaking the silence with her playful tone. She giggled as Draco let her go and dragged her towards their bed. He then scooped her up, making her squeal, before he dropped her onto the bouncy mattress. Her bright smile was irresistible, and he scrambled onto the bed, smashing his lips onto hers. She kissed him back, passionately, happy to be reconciled. 

“Dr. Malfoy shall provide you with the necessary amount of cuddles to cure your ailment,” Draco stated in a funny voice, playing along with the bit. Y/N giggled and reconnected her lips with his, bringing his body close to hers.

And as the sun rose higher and higher into the sky, the couple remained on the bed, legs intertwined with legs and fingers clutching palms. Their hearts were content. All was forgiven. And even when the moon took the sun’s place, they still hadn’t detached from one another. They ended up falling asleep like that. And in the morning, Draco carried his girl to the bathroom, pledging to never let her wash alone again. 

Taglist: @beiahadid @pastelpuffbar @cutie1365 @dracoxmgg @lumlfy @sambucky8 @emilianamason @raplinethereal @dracosdeathmark @xoxohollands @prongsandprancer @ch0kemedracomalfoy @avlauriaa @purpleskymalfoy @mariah-can-dream @drxcomvlfx @sydnee-kom-spacekru​ @dracosgoodgirl @voilawind @gloryekaterina

[morganayenneferburnham]

Have I Known You 20 Seconds or 20 Years? – Nikolai Lantsov Series

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angel Roll their Eyes

Chapter 2: You Did a Number on Me

Chapter 3: You Could Call Me Babe for the Weekend

Chapter 4: The Best of Times, The Worst of Crimes

Chapter 5: All I Know Since Yesterday Is Everything Has Changed

A very short summary: Y/N has been working with the crows for a few years. Her life feels complete until she meets the insufferable Nikolai Lantsov. She finds herself forced to work with the King of Ravka on one of Kaz Brekker’s crazy schemes.

Word count: 2k

A/N: Hey there! So this took me a bit longer than expected but here it is! I should probably mention that it's an angsty one. Sorry. I hope you guys enjoy it. I'd love to get some feedback :)

Chapter 5: All I Know Since Yesterday Is Everything Has Changed

She woke that morning wishing she didn’t have to leave her room for the rest of the month. That was going to be difficult, however. Kaz would come to drag her out himself if he had to. She knew he would. It was probably best to avoid angering him any further. He had made his anger quite clear the night before.

---

Kaz had sent everyone away for the night after having heard their reports and studying the plans for a few more minutes. His gloved fingers had wrapped themselves tightly around her wrist when she’d tried to slip past him.

“Can you get the job done? Or do I have to worry I’ll lose my corporalnik to a king?” His voice had been heavy with disdain.

“Of course, I can do the job, Kaz! How long have I been working for you?” she’d felt panic rise in her, making her nauseous.

“I’ve known Jesper even longer. Doesn’t mean he hasn’t disappointed me.” He snickered. “You haven’t answered my question, Y/N.” The way he’d said her name had sent a shiver down her spine. It had been a barely hidden warning.

“Kaz…” her voice had broken. Would he send me back to Tante Ingrid? She simply couldn’t tell.

“Start tailoring Nikolai and yourself back. I’ll see you in the morning. Do not be late.”

She’d spent the next 3 hours tailoring the king, who threatened to ruin her life by occupying her every thought, and then herself. Nikolai had at least had the decency to stay quiet this time around. She had been far from done when they’d called it a night, but she’d judged it would be enough to keep Kaz off her back.

---

Y/N got ready quickly, keeping Kaz’s warning in mind. She shrugged off her nightgown. She’d slept terribly. She pulled her white shirt over her head, tucking it in the pants she’d chosen for the day. Her mind kept travelling back to Nikolai’s kiss and Kaz’s terrifying fury. She loosely tied the strings at her shirt’s collar, letting the delicate bow rest on her chest. Her brain seemed to be stuck playing both moments repeatedly. It was ridiculous. Nikolai had only kissed her to keep up the act. There was no reason to jeopardize her place with the crows over something so meaningless. So why couldn’t her mind stop bringing it up?

When she finally reached the music room that currently served as their boss’ office, Inej sent her a look of pity from her perch on Kaz’s armchair. Great, she thought, Kaz is still mad.

Jesper and Wylan were lounging, limbs tangled, on a small couch. She nodded to them, returning their greetings, making her way to the opened glass-paneled doors leading to the garden. She watched Marya Hendriks paint while they waited for Nikolai and Zoya to join them. The older woman was working on a beautiful landscape of the Geldcanal. Y/N focused whole-heartedly on the paintbrush strokes letting them erase the memories of the previous night from her mind as they went. She knew it wasn’t permanent, the problem would still exist once Marya stopped painting, but it brought her comfort for the time being.

“Thank you for gracing us with your presence, your royal highness” Kaz’s raspy voice brought her back to the present. His rage and disdain were barely leashed. She turned in time to catch the surprised look on Nikolai’s face. She might have thought it was funny if she wasn’t so scared of what Kaz could do.

“Good morning, are my general and I late?” Nikolai schooled his feature into a charming grin. “Though, you know, I was under the impression that Kings couldn’t be late, everyone else is simply early.”

Just when Y/N thought it was impossible, Kaz’s eyes darkened further. Nikolai had managed to make him angrier somehow. Kaz sneered, “You are late.” They were in for a horrible day.

The air felt colder than it had a few minutes prior to the Ravkans’ arrival. Kaz continued, “The first part of the job was a success. However, that was the easy part.” He sent a pointed look her way. “The next part will require everyone to follow the plan to the letter.”

She flinched. Kaz isn’t mad. He is livid. She moved away from the open doors opting to take place on the arm of the couch where Wylan and Jesper were still lounging. Jesper reached for her, letting his hand rest on her thigh, giving it a small squeeze as if he felt her distress. She was thankful for that small gesture. It would help her endure Kaz’s wrath.

“I still need time to figure everything out. These blueprints do give us the layout of the factory and the warehouse, but we still don’t have the guards’ rounds schedule. We’ll also need to find out the shipment schedule.”

Inej interrupted him “I’ll take care of that. Just keep planning, I do quite enjoy your scheming face.” Y/N always loved getting a glimpse of their relationship. It was always subtle, but they clearly did love each other. It was endearing how much they did.

Kaz’s features seemed to soften a bit at that. “Of course, my darling. Perhaps General Nazyalensky can be of some assistance.”

Zoya nodded. “Sure, we’ll get you the information. Just make sure we have a way out with the plans and the prototypes we need.”

Kaz nodded and turned back to Y/N his gaze cold and hard. “You’re not done with your tailoring.” It wasn’t a question, it was a critic. She felt a chill travel down her back. “You have to finish this morning before either of you can leave the house.” He considered her for a moment. “Use your room. We can’t risk a servant seeing you like this.”

-----

They’d left the room a few minutes later. Y/N leading the way to her room at the Hendriks mansion. She had been quiet, practically ignoring him the whole way. Only turning to him once to check if he was following her. Her brows were furrowed. Nikolai wasn’t sure if she was mad at him or scared. Scared of what? Me? Or Brekker?

Nikolai now watched her from his seat at the end of the bed as she readied her tailoring kit. She had tailored her body back the night before, but she still had ways to go before she was sporting her beautiful features again. She had her back turned to him, her olive pants hugging the soft curves of her hips just right. Nikolai’s mind kept travelling back to the night before and the outfit the Grisha had chosen for the day wasn’t helping him at all. He wanted to rest his hands on her hips and pull her body to his. He wanted to feel her comforting curves pressed against him, closer than they had been the night before, the fabric of her skirt no longer in the way.

He watched her finally settle in front of the mirrored desk, raising her hands to her face. He was glad she was starting with herself. It would give him time to gain full control of his brain again. He observed the careful movements of her fingers for what felt like hours. He was grateful for the time she’d bought him, until he saw her face as she made her way to him. He couldn’t help but glance at her full lips. He wondered just how different it would feel to kiss her now. Saints, I forgot just how naturally gorgeous she was. The urge to pull her closer was threatening to overwhelm him.

“So, I guess I’m only undoing my own tailoring? Not Genya Safin’s? You still need to look like Sturmhond.” She sounded guarded.

“Yeah. I don’t think you could handle how handsome I really look.” He saw her jaw tick. Saints, what a stupid thing to say. And why did I wink at her again? She’s obviously uncomfortable.

He watched her carefully as she came to a stop, standing between his thighs. Nikolai could feel his heart hammering in his chest. She was standing so close he worried she could hear it. If she did, she made no mention of it. “This is gonna hurt. Tell me if you need a break.” She sounded determined; all traces of her previous insecurity gone. He only nodded, not trusting his voice with her standing so close to him, her floral scent drifting his way due to the soft breeze coming from the open window.

Her fingers were surprisingly cold against his skin. He felt the familiar itch of tailoring as she started before the pain of bone remodeling fully settled in. He tried to stay as still as possible, focusing on the concentration etched in the girl’s features instead of the pain. He felt her set his jaw back, making sure Sturmhond’s characteristically pointed chin was just right. She had made a few adjustments the night before, but she hadn’t done any major alterations. He kept watching her as she set the rest of his face back. Her shirt had slipped dangerously lower on her chest as she worked. The small bow coming lose. It was driving Nikolai completely crazy. He wanted to reach out and finish untying the damned strings. He didn’t think he could take much more of this absolute torture. She was almost done with reworking the bone when he saw her bite her bottom lip, completely lost in her work. He was about to finally lose the last sliver of decency he had been holding on to for the last hour when she straightened up suddenly. She backed away to take in her work.

“I think that should be it for facial structure. I’ll work on your eyes next, and I’ll finish with your hair.” She seemed more at ease now. Whatever had been bothering her almost forgotten.

She took her place back between his legs reaching up to his face once more. Her fingers came to rest on his cheek.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you. It was a mistake.” Nikolai blurted out. He could’ve sworn he saw hurt flash in Y/N’s beautiful green eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. He must have imagined it. He saw her straighten her spine, her shoulders tensing up.

“Whatever, we got out. We got the job done. It doesn’t matter.” Any scrap of ease she’d gained was gone as she turned her back to him, taking a few steps towards the mirrored desk. Why did you have to open your mouth? Nikolai Nothing. Nikolai the Bastard. Pretender. Nikolai the fool. He had clearly upset her.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to upset you. Brekker told me you worked at one of the pleasure houses before… I just – I didn’t mean to cross a line.”

She whirled back towards him. Fury burning in her deep green eyes. “He had no right.” she hissed. Her rage melted quickly however, leaving her looking panicked. Nikolai saw her hands start to shake before she clenched her fists.

Another blunder. “He only told me because I asked about your tattoo.” Her hand flew to the bare skin of her arm hiding the iris burned into her skin from him. I am only making it worse, he realized. I should really learn to stop talking so much.

She lowered her head. “He’s going to send me back.” Her voice was trembling. She sounded absolutely terrified at the idea. Nikolai wanted to reach out to her, to comfort her. Why would she think that? Surely Brekker wouldn’t do that. She’s a corporalnik. If Brekker is actually stupid enough to part with such a gifted Grisha, she could have a place with the Second Army. She could have a place in Ravka… She could have a place with me.

“You could–” Nikolai didn’t get to finish his sentence. Inej had opened the door and walked in carrying a tray with tea and biscuits.

“Figured, you two were probably hungry!” Her warm smile faltered when she saw Y/N’s expression. “Everything alright?”

“Thank you Inej. You are absolutely right!” She laughed; all traces of her panic gone. “I’m starving. I could eat a stack of waffles as tall as you!” A talented corporalnik and actress, Nikolai thought.

-----

tagged: @power-of-words23

[unnecessarywriting]

Only You - Fred Weasley

Request: may I humbly request a Christmas at the Burrow with your crush, Fred Weasley, who sometime during the holiday admits his feelings for you??

A/N: Thank you for the request. I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you like it!

Only You 

George had a plan. His plan? Well, it was to push Fred to you. Yes, he wanted to see his brother happy, but more than anything, he wanted to put an end to his own suffering. For months it was Y/N this and Y/N that. If he was being honest, he was close to hexing his brother, but he would rather initiate his plan. What was it? It’s quite simple really.

“Fred, let’s place a bet.”

“Alright, I’m in. On what?”

“Y/N of course.”

“No way. Not gonna happen.” “Too late now. I bet 10 galleons that you’re not going to confess to her over this break.” Fred paused for a moment and thought. He could win the girl of his dreams and 10 galleons in one go. Fred hates to lose.

“You’re on!” George smiled. He knows his twin. Fred hates to back down from a bet. He also hates to lose.

 The Burrow was booming from the moment you arrived. Harry and Ron went to eat, the twins started planning pranks, Molly was yelling at her children, Ginny was talking about Harry, and you were observing the family. Although it could be a bit chaotic, you were always happy to have a place there. You caught Fred from the corner of your eye. He was looking particularly good. His hair fell perfectly, and his shirt was fitting for his form. You were especially happy to spend the holiday around him. He was someone who always made your heart beat just a little faster. Ginny was aware of your crush on her brother, and she completely supported it. She already saw you as the older sister she never had, and she would have loved to call you her sister for real. She often encouraged you to just go after him, but you were not the type to throw away a perfectly good friendship because you developed romantic feelings. 

The first day at the Burrow went by in a blur. You were focused on getting yourself situated in Ginny’s room, and eating the delicious meals that Molly offered. The following day, however, was filled with fun activities, courtesy of the twins. George in particular was pushing for you to join in everything they were doing. The day started with a friendly quidditch match. You played as a chaser on Fred’s team. He spent a considerable amount of time by your side. Oftentimes, you weren’t even paying attention to the match. He would tell dumb jokes, and you would indulge him by offering honest laughter.

After the match, which you lost due to being a bit distracted, you enjoyed lunch. The whole time, Fred seemed unusually distant. He sat far away from you, and ignored your attempts to talk to him. You were completely confused with the complete 180 he pulled. At Molly’s request, you and the rest of the group decided to go for a walk out in the cold. She wanted you all out of the house, and Ginny suggested enjoying the snow outside. You were getting a jacket when you passed by the twins.

“Are you already quitting?”

“No, I just needed some time to gather my thoughts.”

“I think you meant emotions brother. You better get yourself together, or I’m going to be richer.” George chuckled. You were confused but passed it off as nothing. 

Fred followed behind you and Ginny. He was struggling to get the nerve to confess to you. It had nothing to do with the bet. You were one of the greatest people to ever enter his life, and he didn’t want to ruin anything between the two of you. He also knew that he owed it to himself to tell you the truth. In his eyes, you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. Your smile brightened up his day, and your laugh filled him with warmth. He was falling in love with you, and now he needed to find a way to tell you. Earlier, you had been so happy around him, and he panicked. What if you were just being friendly? You two are friends, so that would make sense. He wanted to tell you right then, but he couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. Gee, the pranking king himself was actually getting nervous? You were the only person who could do that to him. 

His thoughts were soon interrupted by a snowball hitting the side of his head. He heard your giggle and instantly knew that you were behind it. Soon, a full blown snowball fight was breaking out. You had hidden yourself behind a poorly made snow fort, and you were throwing snowballs in every direction. Fred saw this and made his move. He got behind your fort and shoved some snow into your jacket. You yelped at the sudden cold and turned around to face the culprit. “Fred!” you whined.

“Y/N!” he mocked back. You playfully smacked him and tried to shimmy the ice out of your coat.

He gushed at the sight of your bright red cheeks and your slightly blue lips. You were adorable. He was ready to kiss you right then and there, but his mother called out to tell the kids that dinner was ready. Disappointed wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how he felt in that moment. Eventually, the day came to a close. You sat up in your bed and thought about Fred. He was overly affectionate the whole day, minus during lunch. You thought a bit more about it, but realized that you would only be getting your hopes up. Eventually, you went to sleep with thoughts of the older ginger twin on your brain. 

The next morning, you ate breakfast and began to help Molly with decorating the house. You lost sight of the twins throughout the day. Your tasks were different, which meant that you hardly got to spend any time around Fred. A part of you thought that it was a positive thing, so that you could prevent yourself from thinking about what it would be like to be with him. Fred, however, was angry. He wanted to have tasks with you so he could finally make a move on you, but his mother was blocking him. 

When you had all concluded your tasks, you decided that you would take some time to yourself and catch up a bit on some reading. You got comfortable on the couch, and you began to read. You were so immersed that you missed the other body that appeared on the couch. He picked up your legs and placed them on his own.

“What are you reading?”

“A muggle book.”

“What’s it about?”

“Well that’s what I’m trying to figure out, hence the reason why I’m reading it.” He shyly laughed at your answer. He stayed silent for a while longer. He just watched you concentrate on the words that your eyes crossed over. Sometimes, he would see you smirk a bit. You were absolutely perfect. He watched as your eyebrows would raise occasionally, or your eyes would slightly gloss over when you forgot that blinking was necessary. You were his own goddess, and he wanted nothing more than to worship you. 

It was Christmas Eve when he made a fatal mistake. He got in trouble with his mother. He’s not sure exactly what happened, but he instantly regretted it. He had decided that there was nothing more romantic than a confession on Christmas Eve. He planned to sit by the fire with you. He was going to look into your eyes and tell you everything. If things worked out, then he was going to bring in the trusty mistletoe to seal the deal. Alas, he ruined his chances by picking a fight with his mother. She had enchanted the garden to be protected from the snowfall, which meant that the gnomes were pleasantly inhabiting the area. He was now going to have to spend hours throwing the buggers before he could return inside. He was heartbroken, but he thought that this was a sign. Clearly, the universe didn’t want you two together. 

You were surprised when Fred was nowhere in the house. You asked George where he was. He told you everything that happened. You instantly felt terrible for him. It was cold outside, plus the job was tortuous. You decided that the least you could do was help him, of course without Molly knowing. You snuck outside and saw him angrily throwing gnomes. You giggled at his pained expression. He really was not happy. You also thought this was the best time to get him back for all of the pranks he had been pulling. You crept up behind him and grabbed at his sides abruptly. He jumped and looked back at you in anger until he saw that it was you.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Secretly, I’m helping you. You’re welcome.” You smiled proudly at him. Then you grabbed one of the gnomes and swung him as far as you could. Fred was speechless. He just watched you, amazed at how perfect you are. He finally caught wind of his situation, and began throwing the gnomes again. After some time, he stopped and looked over at you.

“Hey Y/N can I talk to you abo-OUCH” he belted. You snapped your head in his direction to see what was wrong. You saw one of the gnomes with their teeth latched onto Fred’s ankle. Your worry faded almost instantly. You began to laugh uncontrollably. He just looked at you, annoyed by the fact that you were finding humor in his pain. He threw the gnome with all of his might. A couple of minutes past, but you still hadn’t stopped laughing. He eventually began to cave, and he started laughing as well. It was stupid but you apparently thought it was the funniest thing to happen. 

“I can’t believe you found that funny. Is my pain really that comedic?” He feigned sadness. 

“I’m sorry Fred, but you have to admit, that was hysterical. Only you would be bitten by a gnome.”

“You Y/N Y/L/N are absolutely ridiculous. It’s one of the many reasons I love you,” he said while chuckling. See, this is one of those moments where Fred didn’t actually comprehend the words that came out of his mouth. He only became aware when you went completely silent.

“You love me?” you asked shyly. 

“Uh, yeah. You know what Y/N? I am so in love with you. I have been for awhile now, but I didn’t know how to tell you. Just please, don’t let my feelings ruin us.”

“Fred. Stop. I love you too. How could I not? You’re smart, funny, kind, and you’re easy on the eyes. I just never thought that you would see me as anything more than a friend.”

“Please, let me kiss you.” He was desperate to be as close to you as possible.

“What are you waiting for?” You smirked at him. He pulled you into a kiss full of passion. It told you everything he wanted to say. Fred pulled away from you first, although not by choice.

“Son of a-” He was yelling. Your confusion disappeared as you peaked down. 

You started laughing again at the sight of another gnome, this time on the other ankle.

“Only you, Frederick Gideon Weasley, would be bitten by two gnomes in one night.”

By the time you two had finished with the garden, it was time to go to bed. Both of you exhausted. Lucky for the both of you, George and Ginny had already fallen asleep so you wouldn’t have to deal with their interrogation. In the morning, however, George was met with a very happy brother.

“You, my dear brother, owe me 10 galleons.” George was astonished. He was worried that his twin wasn’t going to do it. When you walked down the stairs, Fred pulled you in for a kiss, almost as if to prove his point. George handed over the galleons.

“This, my dear, is going towards our first real date.” You smiled and agreed, giddy at the thought of finally going on a date with Fred. Ginny caught the end of this conversation and gasped.

“Is this a Christmas miracle, or am I dreaming. Y/N, you need to tell me everything right this instant!” You pouted slightly at Fred as his little sister dragged you away for all of the juicy details.

[thisisarcanereverie]

What it Means to be Worthy (Thor x Reader)

ULTIMATE MASTERLIST

THERE IS SMUT IN HERE 18+ YOU THIRSTY SONS OF BITCHES.

WARNINGS: unprotected sex (wrap it up pals) Do NOT read unless you are 18+. 

Also I have never written smut before so I hope it’s ok. I honestly couldn’t have written it if I hadn’t been listening to Deity by Valeree (highly recommend listening while reading the smut. It will probably make it better.) 

“Thor,” you called the God of Thunder, “Thor it’s (Y/n).”

You heard a small grunt coming from the living room as you entered through the front door. You immediately went to cover your nose from the stench that invaded your senses upon entering. 

It seemed as though the whole house smelled of rotten food, sweat, and something akin to a pigs feces. It was a smell that you never quite got used to, even after 2 years of smelling it every day. 

You quietly made your way through the house until you saw a sight you were quite used to seeing now. 

Thor on the ground, shirtless, covered in sweat and grime. His beard was filthy from vomit and dandruff and his hair greasy and matted to his head. 

There had been a time where he cared so much about his hair that he got triggered if you had tried to trim it. 

After 2 years of seeing this scene before you, it failed to surprise you. 

Now it just angered you. 

You knew you couldn’t understand the pain he was in, he lost his entire family, half his people, and Asgard. 

Sure, the people of Midgard were generous and gave your people sanctuary, a place for your people to call home once again. 

But that didn’t stop you from missing Asgard’s golden palace and it’s mountains of lush green forests. How you missed running with Thor and Loki through those forests after dark to get to the highest peak you could to watch the glittering of the gold during sunrise. 

You had been playmates with the Princes since infancy. You had trained and fought alongside them in battle, joined them in celebrations after each conquest, mourned the loss of Frigga with them. 

You went with Thor all those years ago to retrieve Loki and joined the Avengers with him. 

But now the Avengers were gone, long since disbanded before the battle of Wakanda. 

You weren’t angry at him, your anger was towards the cruel fate that had befallen your precious friends. You had cared for Loki, almost as much as Thor if not equal to. 

If you were honest, you weren’t in better shape. Your grief had taken hold of you as well. Your kind smile had turned cynical. Anyone who tried to get close to you often was met with your icy glare and scoff. 

Thor was the only one who brought out the caring person you once were. 

With a deep sigh you expertly walked around the empty booze bottles and to the grieving man before you. Thor may have gotten soft around the middle but he weighed about the same as you slumped his arms around your shoulders. Thor groaned and went pale, his eyes barely opening. 

“C’mon blondie,” you softly spoke, “let’s get you washed up.”

You half dragged the god to the bathroom, he threw up halfway there but you paid no mind. You would clean that after getting him in the shower. 

You didn’t bother stripping him before setting him in the tub. Without warning or mercy you pointed the shower hose directly at his face and turned the water to icy cold. 

Thor yelled at the icy feeling, borderline pleading, for you to turn off the water. However, over the course of 2 years the patience you had for him had worn thin and so you continued to spray until the stench subsided a little. 

Thor was fully awake and sober now, seeing your figure as clear as day tower over him in the tub with a look on your face akin to a mother scolding a misbehaving child. 

Thor felt so small and powerless under your gaze and he loathed it. 

“You could have stopped a while ago.”

“This needs to stop Thor.” 

Your hands motioned to him, Thor once admired those hands and the strength that they had. Now he just found them annoying. 

He found you annoying. 

You came by everyday and pulled him out of his stupor, clean up after him a little, and try to clean him up. You treated him like a child who couldn’t take care of himself and he loathed it so. 

“I am King of Asgard you do not get to tell me what to do.”

“What King would wallow himself in such a way.”

He bolted upright and stood in the tub, successfully towering over your frame, you had gone too far. You didn’t get to say such things to him. 

What Thor didn’t count on was the world getting fuzzy and a little dark when he stood up, so although he towered over you he was as stable as a wind chime. 

You held onto his frame to prevent him from falling flat onto his face. You felt Thor stiffen under your touch. 

You knew Thor was now sensitive and insecure in areas he never was before. 

It seemed like yesterday that he was admiring himself in one of Asgard’s golden mirrors, his long hair had looked like spun gold in Asgard’s sunlight and his figure was that befitting of a god. 

But none of that had ever mattered to you, even when Thor became full of himself to the point of him being ill tempered and arrogant, you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever give up on him. 

Not that you tried to give up on him anyways.

Loki had asked you one day why you didn’t. Why didn’t you give up on the golden prince when he clearly would never feel the same way. 

“I love him too much to be without him. Even if that means watching him parade himself around as a peacock and watch women fly to him like bees to honey.” 

Then Thor was banished and the only reason why you didn’t follow was due to Loki’s intervening. 

Then Thor met Jane Foster. 

The memory of the beautiful scientist brought back bittersweet memories. You had never seen Thor so deep in love, and that made you both sad and happy. 

Happy that he finally found someone who could keep him humble and who he loved just as much as you loved him. 

Sad that when you often caught Thor daydreaming, that it wasn’t you he was daydreaming about. 

You shook yourself out of your thoughts and sat the giant on the edge of the tub while you went to gather fresh clothes for him. 

You gathered a simple sweatshirt and pants for him to pull on once he was finished with his shower. 

As you set the clothes beside the sink you couldn’t help but feel the gnawing feeling in the deepest parts of your heart and the nagging thoughts in your head. 

You knew that Thor was hellbent on this self destructive path and you knew that there was nothing you could possibly do to prevent it. 

It was either you let Thor drown himself in his despair or you let him drown you with it as well. 

You had accepted long ago that Thor would never see you as anything more than what you had always been. 

His playmate since infancy. 

The girl who got a starry look every time he entered a room. 

You had saved up money from the jobs you had worked over the past 2 years, you finally saved up enough to get away from New Asgard. Leave its people to the hands of their self pitying King and Val. 

It wasn’t like they needed you or the other way around. 

No one would notice your absence. 

You began to pick up around Thor’s home, recycling empty liquor bottles and trashing pizza boxes and rotted food. Vacuuming the carpets and dusting here and there. 

This will be the last time you do as such. 

You needed to leave, staying here and wallowing in Thor’s despair and depression as much as your own wasn’t good for you. And you knew deep down you had been enabling him, every time you cleaned his house and washed and fed him you knew that he only got worse and that you were supporting him when you did this. 

You needed to leave for Thor’s sake as much as your own. 

You wondered how long it would take him to notice. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell Thor, you doubt he would even care at this point. 

The walk back to your house was only a few minutes, having moved into the house closest to his in case of emergency. 

Most of your things were packed and already in your apartment in New York waiting for you. Well things of value, the rest you had sold online, it was amazing what the internet could do. By far one of the greatest inventions on Midgard in your opinion. 

All that was left to do was, pack a few pieces of clothing and toiletries. 

And write a goodbye letter to Thor explaining where you went and why. 

You had avoided writing it, not wanting to say goodbye. Not wanting Thor to not care. 

It wasn’t like you were completely leaving Thor, Valkyrie (Val as you called her) assured you that she would make sure he didn’t starve or drink himself to an early grave. 

You trusted her to make good on her promise. 

You leaving wasn’t even your idea in the first place, Val had tried to get you to leave a year earlier, but you were too stubborn to leave then. 

You grabbed the piece of stationary and began to write. 

‘Thor, 

By the time you're sober enough to read this I’ll already be gone. I don’t predict that I’ll be back. 

Val will be making sure you don’t starve or drink yourself into an early grave in my place. 

I just can’t do this anymore Thor. 

I had loved you since we were but children running around the palace gardens, I still do. However I accepted the fact that you could never see me as anything more than your old playmate and dear friend so long ago. 

I had tried to be by your side in a supporting role no matter how much it had hurt me. 

When you became an arrogant ass I tried my hardest to explain away your tantrums. 

When you came back from banishment I listened to you swoon over Lady Jane Foster with a smile on my face even though it tore me apart. 

I had stayed with you, took care of you. It took me so long to realize that I had just been enabling you this entire time. 

I had been supporting your self destructive behavior and I refuse to play that part any longer. I need to leave, not just for me but for you. 

You need to sort through your emotions, you need to learn how to handle yourself by yourself. You need me not holding your hand when you do that. 

I need to discover for myself what it means to be worthy-’

A loud pounding at your door disrupted your train of thought as you wrote. Normally no one would bother you, not unless it had to deal with Thor. 

The floorboards creaked as you made your way to your door. The pounding had not ceased until you flew the door open to reveal Thor. 

His hair was still damp from his shower and the sweats you had picked out were already stained from the beer he held in one hand. His sky blue eye was hidden behind dark shades. 

“(Y/n),” Thor said, “I need a thing.”

“Thor right now isn’t a good time.” 

“Don’t worry Lady (Y/n) it won’t take even a second I’ll be in and out.” Thor assured, flashing you a smile that could make your legs go weak. Despite how much hurt you were in you were still no match for Thor’s charms. 

“What thing do you need?”

“Just a thing I’ll know the name of it when I see it.” 

You stepped aside as you let Thor in, hoping that he won’t notice the lack of furniture or the note left on the table. You decided to let him be while you went and finished packing whatever was in the bathroom. After that you went back to the living area where you had left the note only to see Thor sitting on the couch, his fingers clenching the paper tightly. He had taken his shades off, the deep dark circles stood out against his skin a tribute to how tired he truly was. 

He looked up and you were taken aback by the sorrow that filled his eyes. red rimmed the blue eye as fresh tears began to fall. 

“You weren’t supposed to read that yet.” 

“And when was I supposed to read it then?! When you were god knows where you will be!” His voice bellowed as tears continued to fall down his cheek. 

“Thor please don’t yell.” 

“No (Y/n)!” he cut you off, “you,” his finger pointed at you, his gaze as intense as lightning, “you don’t get to leave like this. You don’t get to leave me too.”

“Thor I don’t have a choice,” you argue, “I need to let you go. I need to find who I am without you and you need-”

“DO NOT TELL ME WHAT I NEED!” 

You could hear thunder roaring in the distance outside, lightning danced around his fingers faintly. Thor had never scared you, but right now you were close to it. 

“Thor,” you say calmly hoping somehow your calm tone will calm the God of Thunder, “I’m sorry for choosing the cowards way, I wanted to avoid this.”

“Did you truly think you would be able to avoid me for long.” The lightning had yet to cease but his eyes seemed to stop glowing ever so slightly. 

“I didn’t think you would have noticed for at least a few days.” 

“Why would you think I wouldn’t notice immediately?” He asked like it was the most incredulous question. He took a step closer to you while you took a step back. Thunder still roared outside and lightning still curled around his fingers. Thor furrowed his eyes in confusion until he finally seemed to hear the thunder storm outside and realize he had scared you. 

Thor had scared you. 

Immediately the pain in his chest worsened with the guilt that he had scared you. That he had so little control over his powers when he was so emotional. Slowly he closed his eyes and he took a deep breath in and out. He then felt his powers subside and the thunder had stopped. 

You could see his shoulders hunch forward with shame and you instictivly placed a hand over his shoulder to comfort him. Thor was quick to envelop your hand with his. Holding onto your hand for dear life. 

Your eyes then met, closer than you had ever been before. 

“What thing were you looking for?” you asked softly, “you said you came over for a thing.”

“I lied,” Thor admitted softly, “I just didn’t want to be alone.” 

The next thing you knew was the faint taste of beer and blueberries on your lips and strong, calloused hands making their way to your shoulders. 

Thor was just as good a kisser as you imagined. Lips moving expertly over your own, moving against yours so desperately. Like a man dying of thirst. 

You knew you should push him off of you, but for one second you wanted to enjoy his lips on yours. Kissing you like you had always wanted to kiss him. 

You moved your lips against his, relishing every moment. Because you knew you wouldn’t be able to kiss him again. 

Only when Thor's hands traveled to your waist did you break away. Albeit, you couldn’t push him further than just enough to give you some breathing space. 

“Thor,’ you said, “you’re drunk you don’t want this.” 

‘When will you stop telling me what I want and don’t want.” His lips moved from your lips to the corner of your mouth and slowly made their way to your neck. 

“Thor I do not want this if your reasoning is impaired.”

“I appreciate the thought dear one, but I only had half a beer tonight.” 

Asgardians could handle their booze well, especially Thor. For Thor to be the least bit intoxicated he would have had to drink 3 large bottles of Asgardian booze. However, when it came to Midgard it took 4 large barrows of Midgardian beer for it to have the same effect on him. Thor mostly drank it for the taste.

“Unless you would rather I stop.” Thor said, before his hands had removed themselves from your waist you stopped them. 

With every ounce of passion in you, you grabbed a handful of his long hair and pressed your lips to his. 

It was a mess of passionate and needy kisses and moans. Thor’s battle-worn hands had roamed over your body in a desperate need to feel you. 

He was quick to rid you of your shirt, hands feeling every inch of naked skin as he could. Holding you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded to the earth. 

You moaned as his hands found your breasts, his large hands covering them over your bra. Your hands made quick work with your bra, removing the suffocating fabric before lifting Thor’s shirt. 

you felt him stiffen as you rid him of his shirt. 

He wasn’t as muscular as he had been 2 years ago, however it took more than 2 years to completely diminish what his body had been. Although his stomach had softened as well as his arms. You didn’t care in the slightest, loving Thor in every shape he came in. 

Your hands lovingly brushed over his torso as you began to leave open mouthed kisses down his neck, over his chest, it wasn’t until you were at the waistband on his sweatpants did he bring you back up and kissed you with fiery passion. 

Thor laid you in front of the fireplace that you forgot you lit a while ago. Honestly a little surprised that the fire was still going. 

You didn’t have much time to think about that as you felt Thor’s lips travel  from your neck and over your breasts. Your nails scratched the floor beneath you as you felt him at the waistband of your jeans. 

You felt Thor pause and you looked at him. 

“Are you sure dear one?” 

Your heart melted at the new nickname, as you nodded to him. However that wasn’t enough for the blonde adonis as he traveled up your body and littered your neck in open mouth kisses. 

“I need to hear you say you want this dear one.” 

“Please Thor,” you pleaded as he ground his hips into yours slowly, your hips meeting his as his pace slows even more successfully driving you insane. 

“I need you Thor.”

“What do you need dear one?”

“I need you to finish what we started.” 

With that Thor slammed his lips on yours as he rid you of your pants, underwear included. He leaned back and his eyes drank in your figure illuminated by the fire light. You were breathtaking, any one would buckle at the sight of you. 

Pride swelled in Thor’s heart as this view was reserved for him only. 

Just as you were about to say something you felt Thor’s beard tickle the inside of your thigh and without warning Thor dived in. 

Your hands immediately flew to his hair and grabbed fists full of it, anything to tether you to reality. 

As Thor worked his magic on your bundle of nerves your moans filled the empty house. Thor moaned as your grip on his hair tightened which sent waves of pleasure throughout your body. Thor lifted your legs over his shoulders and gripped your thighs firmly as his tongue worked faster. 

Just as you were about to reach your blissful release you felt him pull away. Your arousal practically dripped from his lips onto his beard. 

He rid himself of the last piece of clothing before capturing your lips once again. Unlike the kisses from before, this was gentle and sweet. You could taste yourself on his lips as he tenderly kissed you. 

You slowly ran your hands over his chest, committing him to memory. 

Thor pulled away from your lips as he entered you. 

Your mouth let out a silent scream of pleasure as Thor let out a shaky breath of pleasure. Thor waited for a few seconds, relishing in the feeling of you around him before finally moving his hips against yours. 

Thor was soft and slow in his thrusts, making sure to worship every part of you. His lips were everywhere, from your face to your breasts. 

You met in time with his thrusts. The only sound in the room being your shaky breaths, moans of pleasure, and skin on skin. And it sounded like a chorus to you. 

Thor’s thrusts became erratic and unyielding, the knot in your stomach was on the verge of bursting when Thor whispered in your ear. 

“Let go dear one, I’ll catch you.”

With that the knot had become undone, leaving your body shaking from the overwhelming pleasure. 

Thor had not been too far behind you before he too reached his climax. 

Thor laid down beside you, still coming down from his high. You laid your head on his chest and he instinctively wrapped his arms around you. 

This was everything you had ever wanted, to lay beside Thor with his arm beside you. Well almost everything. 

As Thor began to play with the ends of your head as you replayed the past two years in your head. 

“I think you may have been right.” Thor broke the silence, you lifted your head off his chest to see his gaze distant as he stared at the ceiling. 

“When have I ever been anything otherwise.”

Thor’s chest rumbled in laughter as unshed tears began to fill his eyes. He refused to cry, not now. 

“I agree that you need to leave dear one.” Thor’s voice cracked, “I have become a pitiful king to my people, but I have been an even worse friend to you.” his eyes left their place on the ceiling and rested on your face. “You have been faithfully by my side ever since either of us could remember. You had defended me when I didn’t deserve it and loved me when no one did. Not even myself.” His calloused hand caressed your cheek, thumb brushing the tears that had escaped your eyes away. “you don’t deserve to drown in my despair with me. You deserve a life of adventure and you deserve the time to figure out who you are.” You pressed your forehead to his as tears leaked out. “I need to let you go.”

---

Thor had spent the night committing every touch and every scent to memory. He had no idea when his feelings for you grew to such lengths but he knew now that he had figured it out much too late. 

He wasn’t the man you deserved by your side. 

Thor waved you off at the airport and watched as the metal contraption took you away from his side for the first time since his banishment all those years ago. 

He hoped that if you returned he would be a man worthy of you again. 

Thor only wished he knew where to start.

[yikesharringrove]

Egg the Cat

Chapter 2

Read on Ao3

-

Nancy flinched as an engine revved, a sleek blue muscle car pulling into the lot. 

Steve let himself focus on it. It was better than dwelling on his fucking essay, his impending shitty night spent with Barb’s parents, like he didn’t feel horrible enough about that whole situation. 

He watched the car pull into a space at the front of the lot. 

California plates.

“Who’s that?” Steve could picture Nancy wrinkling her nose as she said it, too focused on Billy getting out of his car to turn and see it for real. 

He narrowed his eyes at a young redhead getting out of the passenger side. 

Billy hadn’t said anything about a sibling. 

“That’s Billy. I met him last night.” He finally looked back at Nancy as Billy set off towards the school. “He found Egg downtown.” 

Nancy’s eyebrows flew nearly to her hairline. 

“Steve, I’m sorry, I forgot. Is she okay?”

“Yeah, Billy got her safe and sound. Still don’t know how she got out, though. Let alone made it all the way downtown.” He locked his car as they headed towards the high school, the warning bell sounding through the parking lot.

He reached for Nancy’s hand, his heart soaring when she let him take it. 

Sometimes she said his hands were too clammy. 

He walked her to her first class, kissing her softly by the door. 

Billy glared at the tiny brunette sitting in front of him. 

Steve hadn’t said anything about having a fucking girlfriend last night. 

And really, Billy should’ve known. He’s a hot guy, living in a town of not a lot of hot guys. It makes sense some girl would snap him up. 

It just felt like a slap in the face. 

It’s not like Billy thought he actually had a chance with Steve, but now all of his daydreams, any of his dirty thoughts featuring one Steve Harrington were gonna be tainted, by this prissy fucking bitch. 

Billy just spent all of his AP biology lecture boring holes into the back of her head. 

He didn’t really give a fuck if people noticed, thought it was weird. He was too busy channeling all of his anger, all of his hatred onto this skinny little priss. 

He hoped she could feel it, like maybe his anger gaze gave off palpable heat or something. 

Based on how many times she stuck her hand up to answer every question posed by the teacher, no, she couldn’t feel the heat of Billy’s rage. 

He couldn’t get out of there fast enough, only to find they shared all three of their morning classes. 

Because fuck Billy. 

And then he had to watch, had to stand there like a stupid gay fucking idiot as Steve lifted nancy off her feet, and made out with her against her locker. 

He stomped past, hoping to go unnoticed by-

“Billy!”

Fuck. 

He stopped dead in his tracks, taking a few deep breaths before turning, plastering his best I am so charming and I don’t hate your girlfriend for no reason smile on his face. 

Steve was all sunshiney again today. Billy mentally kicked the little voice in his head saying that sunshine is for you. 

“Hey, man! How’s your first day going?” Steve had his girl tucked under his arm. She looked like a frail little bird. Billy hoped Steve’s cat ate her for breakfast one day soon.

“Well, you got mad at me last night when I called this place a shithole, so I’m just going to heavily imply it.” Steve laughed, his head tipping back a little, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

Billy tried to think about his dad, tied to think about the shelf bruises on his back. 

And then Steve was pressing a sheet of paper into his hand, and their fingers fucking brushed and Billy tried, tried to think of a broken arm and cops at his house, and not holding fucking hands with Steve Harrington. 

He studied the paper, just to look somewhere that wasn’t Steve’s eyes. A lighter shade of brown in the fluorescent lights, a shade bordering on green. 

Come and get sheetfaced. 

“Hawkins parties will probably be lame compared to what you’re familiar with, but I mean, it should be fun.” Billy just nodded, eyes trained on the little ghost. “We’ll be there. Nancy and I.” Nancy. That’s a stupid fucking name. “Y’know, if you aren’t too cool for us by then.”

Steve was smirking at him a little when Billy finally looked up. 

“I’m already cooler than you, Harrington.” Fuck. It sounded way meaner than Billy had wanted, sounded actually rude, not like a little ribbing. Not like a little tongue-in-cheek reference to last night. Cold shit. 

But then Steve tossed his head back, and he laughed, a full belly laugh, and he clapped Billy on the shoulder, and Billy has never felt gayer in his entire life. 

“Harsh, man. Real harsh. Wait ‘til I tell Egg you said that, she’ll never want to see you again .” And Steve was still smiling at him, and he had maybe, alluded to Billy seeing his cat again, which meant seeing Steve outside of school, and Nancy was looking down the hall, like this conversation was below her pay grade, and Billy wanted. 

“See, that’s why I’m cooler than you. I don’t go telling my cat all my lame drama.”

“That’s because you don’t have a cat,” Steve said playfully, his face falling a bit. “Wait, you don’t have a cat, do you?” Billy shrugged.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” And Steve smiled at him, and the bell rang, and Nancy rolled her eyes before pressing herself out from underneath Steve’s arm, and Steve’s big sweet eyes snapped onto her. 

“I’ve got to get to Calculus.” Billy’s heart sank. They shared four classes so far. 

Steve just leaned down to kiss her, one hand cradling the side of her face. Billy looked away.

“I love you.” He had to suppress a snort as Nancy said it back, her voice all pitchy and off. 

But Steve reached out to clap Billy on the shoulder again. 

“I better see you tonight!” And he was off down the hall, and Billy, once again, made a point not to look at his ass. 

-

“You gotta be home by nine-thirty, okay, Shitbird?” Max rolled her eyes again. 

“Billy, I know what time I need to be home by.”

“Just making sure, because you know if you don’t make curfew, I’m somehow gonna be blamed for it.” Billy had only gotten out of playing babysitter this evening when Max had nearly thrown a full tantrum at the idea of trick-or-treating with adult supervision while she’s trying to make friends. 

She just looked at him sharply, her lips pursing a bit. 

“I’ll be home.” Her voice had an edge to it. Billy didn’t really know how to take it.

“Be safe.” She didn’t acknowledge him, just got out of the car, a little Michael Myers heading into the swarm of children. 

He pulled down the road, the party address only a few blocks from where Max was meeting her friends. 

He slammed a beer the minute he entered the party, didn’t want to be sober for a second of this shitfest. 

Steve had been right. This party didn’t hold a fuckin’ candle to what he frequented down in Cali. 

He tried to make the best of it, beat the keg stand record, found some stupid jocks that were more than happy to parade around him all night. 

He just had to get to that sweet spot, drunk enough he would actually get hard with a girl, but not too drunk he’d get whiskey dick. He didn’t need that to be his reputation in this shitty town. 

He was being pulled through the crowd by some freckly fucker dressed as the guy from Karate Kid. Max had made him take her to that movie six times in the theaters. Billy had slept through it every time. 

He was feeling pretty okay, the beer settling into his system, giving him a warm buzz as he studied the party. Maybe he could find some punk kids, score some weed or-

Steve Harrington.  

The karate guy had shoved him in front of Steve, had said, guess who’s the new Keg King, Harrington?

Steve was glaring at the guy, drawn up to his full height, shoulders squared, all of that melting as he turned to Billy, smiling warmly at him. 

Fucking sunshine. 

“Nice job, Dude!” And Steve took Billy’s hand, and he pulled him into a one-armed fucking hug. 

Billy was absolutely stunned. Maybe a little bit hard as he pat his hand against Steve’s back. Felt his muscles moving under his jacket. 

But then Steve pulled back, his eyes trailing after his fucking girlfriend, and he was gone, followed her into the kitchen. 

Billy wanted to tear out his fucking hair. 

He went the opposite way as Steve, pushing through the sweaty crowd. 

He really didn’t need to see Steve coddling his girl. 

He shoved his way into the backyard, vaulting the low fence on the porch, making his way out of the yellowed light spilling out of the house. 

He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it quickly. 

Fucking idiot. You knew you couldn’t have any fucking boy in this goddamn town.

But Billy had come into this town really not expecting any boy to actually catch his eye. 

Not like Steve has. 

Steve with his stupid big eyes, and his stupid big hair, and his stupid cat named fucking Egg. Who names a cat Egg? That’s a dumb fucking name. 

Billy lit his next cigarette with the dying remains of the last one. 

He thought about calling it quits, heading home early. 

But it wasn’t even ten yet, and really, he needed to fool around with a chick tonight. He needed to establish himself as a lady killer. 

Sleep with one girl, and the rumors would build enough that he probably wouldn’t have to fuck any others, just not deny it when any girl claims they had a wild night of passion. 

It was safer that way. Gave him some cushion. 

Then, if any of the lies began to unravel, he’ll just fuck another one, and let the rumor mill do its trick. 

Besides, he can find a brunette, make her take it from behind. If he’s lucky, the party’ll be loud enough he can tune out her moans, picture someone else, picture him -

The backdoor slammed against the wall as someone stomped outside. 

Billy just took another deep drag, hoped he wouldn’t be noticed. 

But, of course-

Steve didn’t even ask, just took the cigarette out of Billy’s mouth, taking a long fucking drag. 

He rolled his shoulders, let his head fall back, blowing the smoke out towards the sky. 

“Y’know, I fucking quit smoking because of her. Not like I did it a lot, but still .” Billy just stayed quiet. He really didn’t want to talk about Steve’s fucking girlfriend. “Because I actually cared .” Oh, now wait a minute.

“What happened?” 

Steve shot him a dark look.

“You weren’t inside?” 

Billy just gestured to the cigarette Steve was now sucking on once again. Billy kept his focus on Steve’s left earlobe. Didn’t care to get a semi just from looking at his lips. 

“Lovers’ quarrel?”

“Does repeatedly being called bullshit and having her tell you she doesn’t love you count as a lovers’ quarrel?”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.” Steve tossed the cigarette to the ground, stomping it out. Billy didn’t know what to say. 

What he wanted to say was you ever sucked dick? And then maybe take Steve’s mind off of everything by fucking his face, but that felt a little forward, felt a little gay. 

“ Fuck .”

Oh, shit. 

Steve was fucking, Steve was gonna cry. Standing outside with Billy, barely lit by the light filtering through the small frosted bathroom window. 

“ Next week .” Steve’s voice cracked. “We would’ve been together one year next week. And she was pretending .” Steve slumped back against the wall, his face buried in both his hands. “I, I changed everything for her. I stopped seeing my friends because she didn’t like them, I stopped smoking because she said it was gross, I changed who I am as a fucking person. And you know, granted, I am a better person. But I’m different, because of her, and she just, she threw all of it away.”

He sniffed loudly, his shoulders stuttering. 

Billy felt like his guts were on fucking fire. 

“Fuck her. Fuck her. You are a good guy. And if she’s too much of a bitch to see that, she doesn’t deserve you.” Steve didn’t acknowledge him for a while. Billy just let it be, lit another cigarette. 

“I think I’m gonna go home. I wanna see my cat.” Steve sounded like a little kid. Like a heartbroken little kid. 

“You good to drive?” And Steve finally pulled his head out of his hands. 

His big eyes were shining, his cheeks wet, glistening in the low light. 

“I don’t drink anymore. Because she said I’m an asshole when I’m drunk.”

Billy weighed his words carefully. 

“I’ve got a bottle of tequila in my car if you wanna stick it to her.” Steve gave him a watery smile. 

“You wanna follow me to my place?”

[psychdelia]

max showed up on his doorstep with blotchy red cheeks and puffy wet eyes, board discarded on his lawn as she pounded on the door with her free hand, holding a shoebox in the other.

“okay, okay!” steve called out as he rushed downstairs. “i’m coming! jeez.” he huffed as he opened the door, ready to bark out a what, shithead? because who else would show up to his place and pound on his door for a minute straight?

except his mouth snaps shut when he sees her shivering in the winter cold and cheeks still damp. it’s been about 4 months since billy died and he hadn’t seen max in this state for a couple months now. he thought things were getting better.

maybe not.

“max.” he frowned. “what’s wrong? what happened? are you okay? are you hurt?” he asked, the panic in his tone increasing with each question.

she just shoved the box into his hands, giving him a determined look. so similar to billy’s. too similar.

“i found this in his room.” he can hear the suppressed tremble in her voice as she fights the urge to cry again. “i never gave it you because i thought maybe,” she frowns, looking down. “maybe he-“ she lets out a shaky breath. “but he never came back so it’s yours now.”

then a switch is flipped and she’s suddenly glaring up at him, yet another expression too similar to billy’s.

“you can’t tell anyone.” she clenches her shaking fists. “if you tell anyone what you find in there i swear to god steve i’ll hurt you.” her upper lip is twitching into a snarl and steve is genuinely scared of this little fiery teenager.

“jesus, max,” he sighs. “first of all, you two are way too goddamn similar for not being blood related.” he ruffles her hair with a free hand. “second of all, you can’t just tell me what’s in here?”

“no.” she shakes her head as she bats his hand away. “just,” she plays with the hem of her jacket nervously. “just keep an open mind.” she frowns. “we’re not from here. things are... different back home.” her shoulders sag a little and he can tell she misses home. misses life before hawkins. “promise you won’t tell anyone?” she looks back up at him.

he frowns as he stares at the box in his hand before nodding. “promise.”

“good.” she nods. she rubs harshly at her face with her sleeve before turning away to walk to the lawn.

“you need a ride?” he calls as she grabs her board. chuckles when she rolls her eyes, tosses back an i can get myself around, steve. then a quick thanks, though. see you around. then she’s taking off.

steve practically sprints up to his room after that. sets this mystery converse box down in front of him on the bed as he sits, unsure of what to expect. maybe porn mags? weed stash? who knows.

so, naturally, he dumps it all out on the bed. stares at the pile of magazines, books, seashells, pictures, papers. the first thing he grabs are the magazines, expecting to see a half naked chick on the cover. he freezes when he finds a half naked man instead, clad in leather.

drummer. drummer. drummer. all of these are the same magazines, different issues with different men. he wonders if they’re targeted towards women, but then he’s opening them up and finding men... with other men. figures maybe hargrove had been holding onto them for someone else because there’s no way in hell these are his. no, no, no. that boy was straight as hell. loved to show off a different girl hanging off his arm every week, made shows of flirting with both girls and women.

but then he’s grabbing a polaroid dated 1983 and it’s billy with shorter hair and fuller cheeks kissing another boy with a big smile and lovesick dopey look on his face.

holy shit. this can’t be real. billy hargrove wasn’t gay. he couldn’t be. he was the womanizer, ladykiller, heartbreaker of hawkins. he loved women and they loved him 10 times more. none of this makes sense.

he grabs the journal next, the leather on the cover worn and threadbare. the first entry is dated from 1983 and the last just a couple weeks before starcourt. right before he got possessed.

steve sets the journal aside, opts to look at the other pictures and items billy had stashed away before he reads about the last three years of the guy’s life. there are a couple pictures of a blonde woman with striking resemblance to billy, the same saint christopher pendant and thick silver ring billy wore present around her neck and finger. some of them feature billy when he was a baby, toddler, kid. he finds jewelry that seems feminine, womanly. figures they must’ve been his mom’s.

there are also some california souvenirs. he finds seashells and movie, concert tickets that read “san diego” on the top. there are also some books steve remembers he was supposed to have read or heard about in school, but also some more he never heard of.

at the very bottom of the box he finds expired makeup and empty hair product. there’s black and dark blue eyeliner and mascara, baby pink lip gloss. nail polish in black, dark red and a deep purple. in some polaroids, the slight sheen of the gloss and his dark, thick lashes are barely visible, but he still catches it.

steve can’t help but chuckle when he finds some candy wrappers and leftover weed grinds at the bottom of the box alongside the butts of joints and empty cigarette packs. marlboro reds. there’s scrunchies, too. shimmery and purple, probably stolen from max.

once’s he’s finished digging through hargrove’s secret belongings, he leans back and sticks his nose in the journal. it takes him the rest of the day and all night to read it from cover to cover.

the beginning is mostly about missing his mom and hating his father, documenting his abuse. there are a few pages about his crushes and boyfriends, allowing him to figure out that the boy he was kissing in the polaroid is named santiago, but billy calls him santi. once he reaches the end of san diego and beginning of hawkins, billy’s tone and messy scrawl is full of hurt, anger, and melancholy.

and then steve’s name pops up. KING STEVE in all caps, taking up nearly half the page. there are hearts around his name, alongside a big drawing of a dick. below, billy writes about feeling like a foolish schoolboy with some stupid crush on some guy with a huge dick he saw in the showers. steve’s already blushing and it only deepens when he gets to the part about billy wanting to feel said dick in his hand, his mouth, inside of him.

he has to take a break after that. doesn’t realize things only get spicier until he gets back to reading and finds out billy’s jerked off and fingered himself open to the thought of none other than king steve. his eyes immediately flick to the half empty jar of vaseline, finger-shaped holes indenting the jelly.

he spends the rest of the night reading about billy’s remorse and guilt towards him and lucas after that night, how billy still wants to hop on his dick and kiss him stupid, his and max’s relationship and how it’s gotten better even though they still blame each other for the move.

it’s both of their faults, steve realizes. billy missed his curfew for a boy and max had no choice but to lead neil to him.

along the way to the end, a couple pictures of steve fall out of the journal. pictures that steve has no idea how billy acquired. some are from school yearbooks, others just random polaroids that might’ve been taken by tommy or carol or jonathan. when he finally reaches the end, he reads about billy’s pool job and plans fo move back to california for college as soon as he graduates.

i know it’s stupid but i’m gonna miss him. his stupid hair and big brown eyes and pretty face and pink lips. i didn’t know anything about the guy but i wish i could drag him out of this shithole and take him home with me. i still haven’t apologized to him. maybe kidnapping him and showing him the ocean would count. but i can’t fall for a straight boy, no matter how big his cock is. i don’t get to fall for someone i hurt. it’s not fair. none of this is fair.

that’s the very last entry. it’s 1am and steve is wide awake. too awake. before he thinks too hard about what he’s doing, he’s shoving everything back into the box and flooring it to robin’s house. he knocks on her window incessantly until she opens it with a glare and he’s pushing his way inside before she can greet him with a snarl.

“billy hargrove was gay and in love with me and-and and jerked off to me and,,, pretended his fingers were mine and his dad was hurting him and his mom left and he was alone, robin.” he’s rambling, eyes wide as he paces the room with the box in his hands.

“he was s-so hurt and alone and no one paid any attention and now he’s dead because of a monster in some town he got dragged to as punishment for being gay and,” his voice cracks. “he’s gone.” he whispers brokenly as he shoves the box into her hands.

robin is very confused and surprised but all she knows is that her best friend is in distress, so she sets the box down and grabs his hands.

“steve. look at me.” she only continues when he does. “sit down and talk to me. let’s go through everything together, okay? just calm down and breathe.”

by 3am robin’s looked through the box and the majority of the journal - steve dog-eared the important pages and she’s a fast reader - and she’s just as shocked as steve, apparently, if her bewildered expression and silence is anything to go by.

“robin? rob, say something.” he urges. “please. i need you to talk to me.”

“holy shit.” she finally raps. “steve, i’m gonna ask you a question and i don’t want you to freak out, okay?”

he nods.

“do you think you could’ve... reciprocated billy’s feelings?”

he opens his mouth to answer but halts, eyes wide and crazy as he stares at her.

“i-“ he gulps. “maybe?” he croaks out. “i-i think so? maybe yeah. yeah.” he nods.

“so you’re bisexual.”

and that’s throwing him on a whole other whirlwind. steve’s had too much thrown at him for the night and he doesn’t have it in him to deal with a sexuality crisis on top of everything.

but billy’s pretty. so fucking beautiful and steve can’t admit it just yet but he wishes he were still here. he wishes he could travel back in time and reach out to billy and save him from the horrors of hawkins but also kiss and fuck and love him properly but now it’s too late and steve and billy have one thing in common.

they’re both alone. lonely. so much love to give but no one to receive or give back.

“bisexual?” he chokes out.

“you like both. boys and girls. like david bowie. and david bowie’s awesome. you’re kinda awesome too, i guess. for a dingus.” she playfully punches his arm and it makes him feel better for all of 2 seconds until it’s hitting him again that the person who wanted to love him is dead. died right in front of him.

“do you have hot chocolate?” she nods. “with marshmallows?” she nods again. “can i have some?”

he feels like he’s about to faint. completely black out. wonders if he looks pale to robin. he needs something warm and comforting and hot coco will do the trick.

———————————

billy comes back in february. hopper and joyce gathered everyone up in joyce’s living room early february. sat everyone down to announce that hop had gotten... a call. a call from some doctor named owens who hop has a history with, the same doctor who helped will.

owens was nursing billy back to health in some secret lab in indianapolis, hence the funeral with no body. apparently billy was in comatose, then a medically induced coma when his brain woke up but he wasn’t strong enough to just yet. then, when he did wake up, he had to relearn how to eat, write, walk in physical therapy, alongside the heavy emotional therapy.

owens hid billy from the world until he was ready to be exposed to it again. then he called hopper one afternoon and told him to come pick the boy up.

max was angry. screamed and yelled until she was reduced to tears in joyce’s arms. the other kids were shocked and confused. didn’t know if they should be happy or scared. will and el were the only positive ones. nancy and jonathan were mostly shocked and indifferent, numb to these crazy surprises the shithole town throws at them. steve and robin just stared at each other knowingly, a million thoughts racing their minds.

a week later they were all in joyce’s living room again, nervously anticipating hopper and billy’s arrival. everyone looked up when the doorknob began to jerk and the lock turned, their eyes trained on the door as it opened to reveal hopper standing beside billy.

billy. clad in a big hoodie, gray sweats and converse. the same ones that were once in the box steve has hidden under his bed. his hair is long now, flowing freely and curling wildly at the ends, looking so soft with the lack of product. he looked tired, fading blue bags under his eyes. he hadn’t lost his tan, steve noted, and looked a little softer around the stomach and legs. for someone who went through all the shit he did, billy looked good. healthy.

max got to him the second he stepped inside, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him close. he immediately clung to max, holding her tight and whispering a shaky, wet hey, shitbird, only audible to her, resulting in her wet laugh. the siblings stayed like that for a few moments before pulling away to let billy see and greet everyone.

joyce had demanded they all not coddle billy because it would be suffocating and he probably couldn’t deal with that. except now she was serving and feeding him a million things, coddling him just like any other mother would. billy was hesitant and tense at first, but slowly relaxed, especially when he was given cookies.

sweet tooth, steve distantly remembered. billy has a sweet tooth, if the candy wrappers and lollipop sticks in the box were anything to go by.

everyone takes turns greeting and talking to billy. steve’s last in line to have his quick one-on-one with the guy and by the time they’re face to face, everyone’s sitting together, talking and laughing and eating.

“hey,” steve greets with a small smile. he can feel robin’s eyes on him and not-so-slyly flips her the bird, his eyes trained on billy and only billy. “it’s good to have you back.”

“you know you don’t have to say that, harrington, especially if you don’t mean it.” billy tries to joke but his eyes and smile are sad. “i only died for, like, two minutes. not a big deal.”

“shut up, man.” steve rolls his eyes and chuckles. “i do mean it.” he chews on his bottom lip nervously, doing a quick scan of the room to make sure there are no eyes on them before he looks back to billy.

then he’s reaching out and grabbing billy’s hand. running his thumbs over the scars along his palm and knuckles. he looks up to find billy confused and blushing. he smiles before pulling billy into a tight hug.

“you look good. so good.” steve whispers in his ear, getting a whiff of generic coconut shampoo. he has one arm wrapped tight around billy’s waist, holding him close with their bodies flush. he slides his free hand down and rests it on billy’s ass, barely squeezing. he chuckles when billy jumps a little.

“harrington.” billy chokes out, voice wrecked. “what’s your hand doing on my ass?” steve can feel billy’s lips moving on his neck and it makes him shudder.

“just doing what i should’ve done a while ago.” he sighs, content, just holding billy’s warm, very much alive body close to his.

“if you wanted to get in my pants, pretty boy, all you had to do was ask.” billy flirts with a smirk steve can feel on his neck. then he pauses. “you’re not fucking with me?” he asks, tone serious.

“nuh uh.” steve shakes his head. “actually, uh,” he pulls away just enough to meet billy’s eyes. “max gave me your shoebox.” he watches as billy’s eyes widen and go fiery. “hey, no, don’t get mad at her. it’s not her fault. she didn’t know you were comms back.” steve reasons. “plus, now i know big bad heartbreaker billy hargrove has a crush on little ole me.”

“who says i still do?” billy raises his eyebrows, as if his hands aren’t tightly holding onto steve’s shoulders and he’s not blushing and making heart eyes at the guy.

steve’s not too bright, but he knows when people have a crush on him. he’s always been bright in the language of love. and sex, for that matter, as billy will eventually find out when he inevitably get lovingly and romantically railed and fucked into steve’s mattress later that week.

“just have a feeling.” he shrugs, giving billy’s ass one last squeeze before he rests his hands on his hips with a grin.

[americasmarauders]

Hey Luiza!! Ok so I don’t know if this is too big of an ask BUT would you maybe consider, if you’re comfortable with it, writing up (from prompt list 1) #24 that leads into #11 with Tim Drake?

author's note: has this been sitting in my ask box for, what, 4 months? yes it has. I'm deeply sorry for that, love, but suddenly life got in that way, and I found myself unmotivated and uninspired. But now, hopefully, I'll have a couple of weeks of peace and I managed to complete this request. I hope you don't mind, but I put my own spin on the prompts, slightly altering them. Hopefuly it's up to par with what you expected. I re-worked an old draft of mine, one that was supposed to be a royal!au based on Love Story by Taylor Swift, to fit the prompts. It's still a royal!au and it still has some colors of Taylor Swift, nevertheless I hope you like it.

prompts: #24: banter in which one of them’s like… “i love you” and the other person’s like “ok” and the first one’s like “say it back” and the other one’s just like “no 😝” and the first one gets frustrated because “why wouldn’t you say it back we always say i love you before we leave”

#11: when one of them is hurt by the antagonist… and their lover goes… absolutely ballistic and does everything in their power to get to the person they love, to the point in which the antagonist and it’s crew have to physically restrain them… and it still doesn’t stop them… they just keep kicking… doesn’t matter what happens to them… doesn’t matter if they get beaten in the process… as long as their lover is safe… words: 3,982

masterlist

request masterlist

#

#

She leaned to the railing of the balcony, summer air gently brushing on her skirt and her skin, a small smile playing at her lips. Her hands fidgeted nervously as she waited for her love to encounter her in that abandoned corner of her family’s palace.

A sigh escaped her lips as she attentively listened to the noises around her. The rumble of the party could still be heard, even if faintly. There were barely any rounds in that part of the castle, especially with the big ball her father had decided to throw. She had millimetrically chosen that balcony: something far enough from the ballroom, so they wouldn’t be bothered, but not too far in case they got caught. She could see the moon clearly from where she stood, its light illuminating the fountain down below beautifully. She thought about how his eyes would be beautiful under the Moon’s light and her heart fluttered.

She had been warned about the Waynes, mostly by her adoptive Father, who wasn’t exactly a fan of Bruce Wayne, King of Gotham. Their relationship was civil, but it wasn’t safe from animosities, many that had happened in their past, when both were still young princes trying to get their bearings of their upcoming roles. A war was brewing back then, a war that had not ended as of yet, and she remembered her Father telling her how palpable the tension in the air was, how exasperated his mentor was that he was as prepared to be a king both militarily and educationally. She only imagined King Bruce’s mentor felt the same.

Unfortunately, the antipathy extended to the plethora of adopted children King Bruce had. Her father always spoke of them with a corner of disdain, his lips twisting into a frown. He had to have contact with them, the trades of their kingdom depended on Gotham a whole lot, but he had shielded his children from the Wayne kids. When she was smaller, when she had just arrived in the castle fresh from the streets, she had believed every word from her Father. She had stayed away from them, actively avoiding them when she saw a pair of raven hair and bright eyes looking in her direction. When she grew up, she stopped thinking about dodging their attention so attentively, but still stayed out of their way, not wanting to get on her Father’s bad side.

The way she saw it, she didn’t exactly mess with the Waynes, in fact it was the other way around. Tim had stumbled onto her life, and he had been quite persistent, in spite of her trying to be cold towards him. He knew she really couldn’t resist him somehow, he always knew more than he ever let on, he saw the way she smiled when he’d pass through her on a stupid ball his Father threw for whatever reason. She pretended to not see him, to not feel his smile etched into her brain forever.

Tim managed to crawl his way to her heart and now she couldn’t imagine a life without his clever remarks and easy going smile. She remembered vividly when they danced for the first time. He had asked her, the first time he’d even whispered anything to her. It was like every eye was on her while she was hesitating to grab his hand. Her eyes flickered to his face, his smile faltered for a second. She remembered feeling her heart tightening at his deflation, and grabbed his hand immediately after.

His grip tightened on her hand, his smile firm and reassuring. She felt herself tense when they finally arrived on the dance floor, his other hand respectfully laying on her back. He whispered to her gently, begging to not let her eyes drift away from his. She listened to him, her heart beating fast, a mix of anxiety and something else, something better and new. He made snide comments about the people present at the Wayne ball, making laughter bubble underneath her skin. He had vanquished her nerves with a smile and bright eyes.

Hands slipped on her middle, hugging from behind. Tim’s scent flooded her, a smile blooming on her face. She moved to turn in his arms to face him, his hands allowing her movement. He was classically handsome, his blue eyes accentuated by the moonlight, sending butterflies to her entire being. His smile floored her, her hands finding his face, caressing lightly his cheeks.

“No one saw you?” she whispered, her forehead leaning on his, her breath mingling with his.

“No,” he shook his head, his forehead grazing on hers. His hands cradled her face, his eyes closed. “You look breathtaking tonight,” his voice was steady and precise.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” she smirked, her hands falling to his shoulders delicately. Her eyes were filled with an inexplicable love, something that consumed her wholly. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” his lips ghosted over hers, tempting her to close the tiny gap between them. She chased the smile growing on her lips, closing the space between them and interlocking their lips. Tim had promptly responded to her kiss with a gentleness only he was capable of, kindness that made something inside her explode.

She rested her forehead on his, looking deep into his moonlit eyes with an adoration that couldn’t be contained by the vessel of her body anymore. Her heart felt calm again, next to him it was like every cell of her body was finally settling into some level of tranquility. The sinking hole she felt when he was miles away back in his kingdom was rapidly filled when he smiled at her and rested his hand on her cheek. The world was filled with screaming colors once again.

“I wish I didn’t have to leave you,” he confessed, his voice barely over a whisper, his hands cradling her face carefully.

“I know, Tim,” the whisper fled from her lips, “I feel the same, but we have to, we’ve talked about this.”

“I know,” a sigh escaped his lips, defeated and resigned. He took a step back, putting space between them. She immediately felt his absence, a coldness settling inside her. His elbows rested brutally on the railing of the balcony, his knuckles as tense as his jaw. She felt it in her bones that something was deeply wrong with him, something inside him had shifted. “We could run, you know?” he suggested, his eyes finding hers once again, full of hope. “I have a safe house far away, Kon helps me keep it. We could settle down there, live a calm life.”

“Where’s this coming from, Timmy?” she whispered, her eyes closed imagining the life Tim had laid out for her.

“I’m so tired, love,” his head shook from side to side, “I'm so tired of fighting, of briefing meetings and seeing innocents die. I don’t know if I can’t take it anymore.”

“I know,” her hands rested on top of his, “but, Tim, we can’t. We can’t leave everyone behind, this is bigger than us.”

“Why not?” his voice grew with a strong tone of anger. “I just want one thing, Y/N, one thing. I want to be able to love you, without all this weight on my back that I’ve been carrying ever since my parents handed me to Bruce when I was 12. I’m exhausted all the time, I miss you like I’m missing my own heart all the time. I can’t take this anymore.”

“Tim...” she started, her voice soft and understanding, but he quickly interrupted her.

“Marry me,” he turned to her abruptly, grabbing her hands tightly. Her mouth was agape, her heart beating out of her chest. “We can get married quietly at dawn, and then we’ll live at my safe house, we’ll make it a home.”

Her eyes flew crazily over his face, looking for any hint that he was playing a prank on her, pulling purposefully on the strings of her heart. His face didn’t betray any signs of any lies, her mouth got dry and her hands started to sweat. Her brain ran a thousand different scenarios, trying to grasp onto some hope that maybe what Tim had suggested to her might work. She found none.

She shook her head, her throat tightening up. “We can’t,” she whispered, her hands slipping from his. “It wouldn’t work, Timmy. We would be hunted down, we wouldn’t have peace at all. We’d have to live a life constantly running from our past.”

“So we’d do it,” he went to grab her hands again, but she didn’t let him, his hands grasping into summer air. “I can find other houses across the continent, I can make sure we are not found.”

Tears escaped her eyes, betraying her feelings to Tim. She shook her head, her arms crossing over her stomach. “No,” she whispered, “I can’t.”

“Hey,” his fingers lifted her chin, making her look at him, “penny for your thoughts?”

She couldn’t handle being touched by Tim, his touch poisoned her thoughts. If he touched her, she’d make a decision she’d regret, and she wouldn’t have that. “I can’t do it, Tim, I can’t leave everything behind.”

“It’s not going to be easy,” he started, “but we’ll make it.”

“You’re not understanding,” her voice showed the bubbling anger and fear inside her, “I can’t abandon everything like you’re suggesting, Tim. I can’t leave all those people who depend on me, all those families that expect me to show up and give them some comfort,” she sniffed, brushing off a couple of tears running on her cheeks. “If I leave, Tim, I’d be miserable.”

He took a step back at the brutality of her words. “You’d have me,” he whispered, “I’ll love you until the end of my days, I’d never let you be miserable.”

“It wouldn’t be enough,” she replied, her knuckles tight. “I love you, Tim, with everything in me, more than the number of stars in the Universe, but it wouldn’t be enough to cover the guilt I’d feel.”

He inhaled a sharp breath, his hands gripping the railings angrily. “I’m leaving to battle tomorrow,” he stated, his voice steady and impassive.

“I know,” a mutter left her lips.

“This is your last chance before I go,” he turned to her briskly, “please, run away with me.”

“No,” she shook her head, her voice barely a whisper.

Tim huffed and left, his footsteps heavy and angry. But it wasn’t that that had broken her heart. They always said ‘I love you’ when they had to say goodbye.

Tim hadn’t said ‘I love you’.

#

#

Out of everything Tim was expecting from his day -- to dying on the battlefield, to ending a war, the list was practically endless -- he hadn’t expected receiving the letter that was in his hands.

He didn’t even know Roy knew about them. He must have guessed, though, she told everything to Roy, she loved him deeply, a love he sometimes wished resembled the love he shared with his own brothers. But things in the Wayne household were different, more secretive and cold. Sometimes, Tim thought back on how different his life would have turned out if his parents hadn’t dropped him off at Wayne Manor to run. Maybe, he would have followed in his father’s footsteps and became a fine swordsmith, maybe worthy enough to work for the Wayne family like his father before him. Maybe, it would have happened what his parents feared the most: they would have run out of business, losing every penny they owned and living in poverty for the rest of their existence.

Tim was ultimately glad his parents had made that tough decision, he wouldn’t be a Prince if they hadn’t, he wouldn’t have met his soulmate if they hadn’t.

Her. He had royally screwed up with her, he shouldn’t have pushed her too far, he knew where she stood on the subject. But he felt his impatience grow inside of him, his frustrations got the better of him and soon he was blinded only by his undying love for her and the anger he felt at the world for failing him once again.

Tim hadn’t said ‘I love you’ to her when he left. It was that realisation that pained in his chest even now, as Jason handed him a foreign letter from Roy, her brother. It was that regret that flooded him when he read the rushed words scratched on paper, his heart picking up a beat as his eyes processed the fatalistic words presented to him.

He stood up briskly from his seat, ignoring Dick rambling about the strategy they were supposed to adopt to overturn their enemy. He heard some complaints, Bruce calling after him asking where he was going. Tim ignored, only capable of focusing on the letter and his last conversation with her, the things he did not say to her and the regret he felt on the things that had been said.

Tim didn’t have anything on him other than his sword and that cursed piece of paper, but he still made his way to the stables, overlooking the weird stares he received on the way. His horse was softly munching on some hay, unaware of the ride she was about to be put on. The letter found its way to Tim’s pocket hastily, as he put on his saddle on his mare, his jaw tight with emotion.

“So that’s it?” Tim heard, closing his eyes at the voice. “You’re just gonna march to Star City, because Roy sent you a letter?”

“It’s not that, Jason,” Tim muttered, hyper-focused on securing the saddle on his horse.

“I wish I could make you do shit that easily, I would’ve made you do my field notes ages ago,” Jason liked teasing his brother, Tim guessed it was because it was easy to get a reaction out of him.

“It’s not that,” he gritted through his clenched teeth, aggressively releasing the lock of the saddle. His mare complained at the gesture. Even her found a way to scold Tim.

“Then what is it? What’s more important in Star City than here, with your army, fighting for our people?” Jason cleared, watching the anger rise in Tim’s expression quickly and overwhelmingly.

Tim shook his head, not allowing his brother to have the satisfaction of gaining a reaction out of him. He promptly got up on his horse, gently guiding her towards the exit. Jason got in front of his horse, stopping the motion completely. “Get out of the way, Jason,” Tim’s voice was low and menacingly, “I won’t warn you a second time.”

“You don’t scare me, Timothy,” Jason scoffed at his brother’s attempt of intimidation. “Get over yourself, baby bird, you can’t scare me. Now, tell me, why such a rush?”

Tim’s eyes hovered on his brother’s face, looking down at him. The letter was fished out of his pocket and tossed to Jason. His brother caught it, and hastily read its contents. “So? If they needed help containing these rebels they wouldn’t have sent you a letter,” Jason argued, his hands motioning to his brother.

“Jason,” Tim softly said, “read it again.”

His brother looked at him weirdly and did as he said. His eyes moved more slowly now, taking in the words that had ripped Tim’s heart out of his chest. “Oh,” Jason muttered, looking up at his brother once again, “oh.”

“Get out of the way, please,” Tim begged, his voice breaking.

“What are you gonna do when you get there?” Jason asked, confused at his brother’s reaction. “It’s not like you have any medical expertise, Tim, you’re not going to be able to help her.”

“I don’t know, Jason, I just have to be there,” he responded, briskly. His voice was full of contained emotion, like if Tim mad one false step everything would overflow and he would inevitably break. “I can’t lose her, I just can’t.”

Jason sighed, one of his hands resting on the holster of his sword the other on his waist. It was like he was thinking everything through, analysing thousands of scenarios Tim couldn’t even fathom. Jason was the brother everyone underestimated. He was exceptionally strong and big, he had a knack for violence no other Wayne boy had, but he was an incredible strategist, maybe the best out of all of them.

He stepped out of the way not before saying “I’ll cover for you, but I can’t promise they won’t find out.”

With that Tim ran off, the wind whipping angrily at his hair, reflective of the storm inside himself.

#

#

Tim dismounted from his horse just outside the gates of her family’s castle. The guards looked at him suspiciously, as he strode proudly toward the gate that separated him and her. He eyed the guards with an austerity he reserved for a few occasions, he never liked making people feel inferior, but his morals were askew in light of the news weighing down his chest.

“I demand to be let in,” he ordered, his voice stern and tight.

The guard in front of him raised an eyebrow, appalled by Tim’s audacity. “And who might you be?”

“I’m Prince Tim, of Gotham, and I will get in the castle, so please move,” he gathered all the authority he could muster inside him, and spoke as if he was the monarch of that kingdom.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, but you do not have authority here,” the guard shook his head, his hand sliding to his sword slowly. Tim took that as a sign of hostility, trying in a peacock kind of way to show he was the one with the upper hand in the situation.

Tim scoffed at the pathetic demonstration, jumping at the throat of the guard and slamming him to the wall behind him. “Listen here, I have been riding for the past 5 hours, I have not stopped once and, at this point, I’m fuelled by spite and anger,” his voice was low and threatening, and he could see fear rise in the guard’s eyes. He couldn’t scare Jason, but he could scare other people. “I’m not going to be stopped by some mid-level pathetic guard,” it was weird saying insulting things to other people. Tim rarely bad-mouthed, but at that moment it felt liberating.

“Tim,” he felt a hand rest on his shoulder, “release the guard.”

Tim looked over his shoulder, Roy standing there with a calm expression, something that contradicted the feeling in his eyes. Tim shoved the guard out of his hands, dropping them violently to his sides. Roy ordered a guard to take care of Tim’s mare, gently leading Tim inside the castle’s grounds.

“She’s been asking for you,” Roy stated, his voice elusive and calm. “No one understands why, but I do.”

“How is she?” the words that Tim was afraid of saying slipped past his lips. Asking how she was made everything that had happened to her, something he had just found out, incredibly real.

“Considering that she spent the past few days being held hostage, considerably well,” Roy conceded, rubbing his hands behind his back. “A bit bruised and shaken up. But, as far as I know, well.”

“Good,” Tim swallowed the lump inside his throat, relieved to hear what Roy had said. They walked down a straight hallway, something he guessed took them from the main gates to near where she was staying.

“She told me what happened between you,” Roy manifested, filling the awkward silence growing. “She’s been beating herself up for it.”

“It’s my fault,” Tim shook his head, “I shouldn’t have said anything, I already knew her answer, it was stupid.”

“It wasn’t, trust me, if I was in the same position as you, I would’ve probably done the same,” he shrugged, turning a sharp left, “probably worse.”

Tim laughed, humourlessly, at Roy’s comment. “Listen, kid, I get it, truly. But with this,” Roy waved his hands around, “sometimes, you gotta play the long game.”

“I hate the long game,” Tim muttered, like a little kid.

“No one said it was going to be easy,” Roy scolded him, like his brother would have done. “But if you truly love her, like you say you do, then play your cards right.”

They stopped, in front of a dirty pink door, Roy’s hands gripped the handle, a small smirk on his face. Tim straightened his posture, shedding the young brother façade he unwillingly slipped on and reverting to the young Prince ways. He took a deep breath, shuffling to organize his emotions inside his brain. Roy opened the door and pushed Tim inside the room, rapidly closing the door back up.

He had never been to her room, even of all those years of courting secretly, sneaking into dark hallways, and kissing under the moonlight. Her room had always felt off bounds to him, even if it had never been expressed as such. He slowly walked into the room further, watching how every corner had her imprint in it.

She was sitting by the window, the curtains opened, a soft summer breeze gently moving her hair out of her eyes. She only wore a simple gown, almost a nightgown, making Tim feel incredibly overdressed. There were bruises littered over her arms and neck, and he felt a mixture of anger and guilt bubble underneath his skin. He struggled to contain it, hoping the people that had done that to her were already six feet underneath the ground.

Her gaze flipped to him, and his stomach somersaulted inside him. She opened a shy smile, waving timidly for him to approach her. He walked calmly towards her, his hands behind his back fidgeting nervously. She got up from her seat, and stood waiting patiently for him.

“Hi,” he whispered, in front of her. His hands itched to touch her, bring her closer and cradle her as if she was the most precious and delicate thing in the world. To him, she was.

“Hi,” she looked down at the ground, her feet bare. “I’m so--”

“No,” he interrupted her, “don’t. I’m the one who should be sorry, I’m the one to blame.”

“Tim, you didn’t do anything.”

“I did everything,” he admitted, “I didn’t say ‘I love you’,” tears sprung to his eyes, ones that he had been trying to keep at bay for a long time. “I left and suddenly you were in danger and I wasn’t there to help you. All because I was stupidly proud and bitter and I--”

“Stop,” her hands found his face, her thumbs brushing carefully on his cheekbones. “It’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known. I certainly didn’t.”

“I should have…”

“No, Timmy, you’re just a man,” she took a step closer, her body hovering next to him warmly. It was like the ice that had settled on him instantly melted when she stepped next to him, “one that I love very much. But I made mistakes that night, and so did you. And it’s okay.”

He breathed right for the first time in days. The guilt he had been carrying like a cross on his back felt lighter, almost nonexistent. A smile made way to his face, albeit a timid one, and he grabbed her hands, the warmth she irradiated seeping into him. “I missed you.”

She smiled at him, a smile no longer free of hurt, but full of more meaning than before. “There was a question you asked that night,” she whispered, her breath mingling with his, “one I didn’t answer.”

“There was?”

“Yes,” she nodded, her nose brushing on his delicately. “Ask it again.”

“Are you sure?” Tim looked into her eyes, looking for a sign of uncertainty or regret.

“Just ask it.”

“Will you marry me?” he whispered, his lips brushing hers.

“Yes.”

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