#she could step out to the altar for her big moment at the end

[shredsandpatches]

Really want to see the church scene in Gounod Faust staged with Marguerite and Mephistopheles on opposite sides of a confessional screen (I would not be surprised if this is common but I haven't seen that many productions). I think it'd really underscore the psychological/spiritual horror and violation going on in that scene.

[biteofcherry]

Entwined

Leshy!Steve Rogers x female reader; Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: You enter the woods hoping to gain the ancient being's mercy and help. However, you hadn't expected how truly powerful he is, or what price he will ask of you.

*Leshy is a deity of the forests in Slavic mythology. He rules over the forest and hunting.

warnings: sort of monsterfucking (though Leshy isn't exactly a monster, more of an eldritch entity); consensual, with a slight dash of dub-con; tiny bit of manipulation; smut;

Author's Note: This is a story written for Aspen's (@buckets-and-trees) Enchanted Birthday Festival. Early happy birthday, love! ❤️ I've been toying with the idea of Leshy!Steve for a bit and Aspen's challenge was the perfect opportunity to work on it. Especially since she loves forests, plants and all things wild nature 💚 Also a special shout out to @vonalyn who listened to me ramble about the hotness of Leshy!Steve when the idea first came to mind!

“Are you willing to sacrifice?”

His voice echoed with the power of a booming wind, rattling your bones and swishing up your skirts.

The trees surrounding you seemed to grow out their branches, weaving into thick, green walls closing up. Sunlight, just moments ago filtering through the tree crowns, had disappeared; but the dots of luminescent fireflies flickered on, filling the space with a deceptively warm glow.

You looked around, seeking for a path, or entrance through which you might escape, if you chose to. There was none. Within seconds you found yourself trapped in the depths of the ancient forest, with a being whose mercy you came to beg for. 

When about an hour ago you stepped into the woods, you were bracing yourself for the sense of being watched, perhaps hunted. You haven’t considered how closely in contact with the powers of nature you’d come. 

Your steps never faltered as the soft carpet of juicy grass beneath your feet seemed to grow more resilient the deeper into the woods you went; green straws springing back from being crushed under your shoe. The further you went, however, the dewy emerald grew sparse, shrinking into rich soil scattered with shards of bark, little leaves and pillows of moss.

Rays of sunlight filtered through the branches, casting glowy direction into the sacred altar hidden in the belly of the wilderness. It felt so peaceful, so relaxing, that you’d gladly sink into the shades of green and speckles of gold. 

If not for the pounding of your worried heart, which knew that you were searching for more than reprieve. 

Had you known what awaited, you’d listen to your heart’s anxious patter and run away.

But you were determined. Though your grandma would probably call it simple stubbornness. 

You didn’t enter the woods to forage, nor to roam it to fill your soul with happiness. No, your feet carried you forward to face the greatest of dangers and beg for mercy.

Not only for yourself, but for the village and people who lived in fear, but still refused to abide by the ancient laws. Proud and focused on ways to increase wealth, they forgot there’s more in the world than just gold and war. 

Powers mightier than any army. Beings greater and more dangerous than any king. 

When wolves ripped to shreds one of the lumberjacks, everyone thought it to be a tragic accident. When two other people disappeared in the woods, never returning, others came up with ideas of them running away. Then a mother was seen screaming as wolves dragged her body into the forest. The child that followed, crying after its mum, disappeared. A day later a small fawn started prancing around the garden by the empty now household.

Still, people refused to bow to the entity that could be behind all of this, or at least held the power to end this madness. Or so you hoped. 

Having packed a big wicker basket of offerings - jars of golden honey, cheese wrapped in paper, strings of colorful beads and pearls, folded silk, dried exotic fruit you got from the market - you carried it deep into the woods, to place them on the long forgotten altar where your ancestors paid their respects to the guardian of the forest and nature.

Leshy.

You expected to find the ancient, stone altar, with a deformed statue overgrown with moss. The plan was to lay your offerings there, spend some time bowing down and praying for mercy, then returning to the clueless village.

For a few beats it went like that. The birds still chirped, leaves rustled softly in the wind, your offerings laid motionless on the slab of stone.

Then, suddenly, ivy vines weaved up, covering the stone and your produce in a thick cocoon. The earth rumbled and melted, swallowing the altar whole. 

Startled, you took a shaky step back and lost your balance, falling onto your butt. A split of a second when your gaze looked up at the darkening sky and when you returned it forward, he was already standing in front of you.  

Whenever you thought of Leshy, no particular image came to mind. You always thought the creature to be an entity beyond human imagination. 

He was that, but also… not.

He reminded a human man, but only at first glance. 

Much taller, with shoulders broader than the blacksmith’s (whom you always thought to be the biggest man alive). His complexion was fair, but the veins in his arms were jewel green. His hair and beard seemed cast from various shades of gold, intertwined with russet bronze and chestnut reddish. Delicate, tiny vines crawled up his cheeks and along his forehead; like intricate tattoos. 

From the thick mane of his silky looking hair sprouted majestic antlers. Thick and sturdy, their dark color with filaments of gold shining through. His eyes, when you met them, were a striking shade of blue-green. Rare and iridescent, like ponds bathed in the light of dawn. 

“It’s been a while since a human has come to me.” 

The entity’s voice was deep and low, both dangerous and soft, like a purr of a bear or a jungle cat. 

“Are you Leshy?” You swallowed nervously.

“I’ve been called that, yes.” When he grinned, amused, the filigree vines on his body glowed luminescent. 

“And you are?” He asked, courtly. 

When you whispered your name, he leaned forward, bending slightly and outstretching his hand for you to take. As you slipped your shaky fingers into his palm, you felt the pulsing warmth seep through you. It reminded you of the sun-heated earth beneath bare feet. 

As he helped you stand up, your gaze drifted up his body. You noticed that while most of his skin looked like any human’s flesh, a stripe along his left calf and thigh seemed textured like bark. A combination of moss and vines formed a fitting coverage around his narrow hips; yet you still caught the sight of a green vein slithering down his chiseled abdomen. 

More gold-glowing, floral-like tattoos appeared ingrained into the skin along his ribs. Skin on top of his right shoulder looked to be made of bark, just like on his leg. 

As much as he looked unworldly, you also found him majestic. 

Beautiful, as nature itself.

“Those who know me, call me Steve.” He said, holding your hand in his and not letting you step away. “It's a shortened and funnily deformed version of Svyatobor.” 

Lost in his eerie blue eyes, it took you a longer moment to realize what his name meant. 

Breath hitched in your chest, your pupils widened as you stared up at him. All this time you believed Leshy is a creature brought to life and given a purpose by a god. That’s what all the legends suggested. It didn’t occur to you, it's a deity itself.

A god of the forest.

After a moment of complete stupor, shock gave way to a flash of fear. You bowed your head and started to fall onto your knees, to pay proper respect. However, his hand still holding yours pulled you up.

“None of that is necessary.” He assured you. 

Though when you tipped your head up to look at him, Leshy’s gaze slid down your body in a slow, assessing study. 

“At least not in that sense,” he murmured, licking his lips. 

His eyes flicked back to yours. The stark blue pulsing with more green specks than before; as if his body came to life the same way nature sprung back as the snow melted away. 

You felt a rush of heat through your veins at the suggestive implication of his words.

“What have you come here for, little fern?” 

“To beg for mercy for my village.” Once again, you lowered your gaze. “People have been disappearing and being hurt. Swallowed by the forest or its creatures. I plead for no more blood to be spilled.”

Steve’s face betrayed no sign of irritation. For a split of a second you thought you saw a flash of sunlit amusement in his irises, but no mockery followed. He studied you for a long moment, not saying a word.

When he moved, it was slow and nonthreatening. You still startled, though perhaps it was at the loss of contact as his hand gently released your fingers. 

He walked over to where the ground swallowed the altar with your offerings. It was only then that you realized a thick carpet of clovers had filled the space where the table had been. Delicate leaves tilted toward Steve’s legs, brushing against him with the softest of rustles, as if they were purring for him.

“You brought me honey, which you poured out of the goodness of your heart. But don’t you know that our wild bees’ honey is sweeter?” Steve asked, walking barefoot through the small field of clovers back toward you. 

He stepped even closer this time and you felt the unique warmth radiating from him. A little stifling, like the humidity of the forest soaked in rain that was evaporating in the high summer sun.

It was making you dizzy in a very pleasant way.

“You gave me expensive fabrics, but nothing feels as soft and luxurious as petals of early spring’s flowers.” He circled you, like an animal may circle its prey. “None of your colorful beads shine as bright as drops of dew in the moonlight.” 

“I-” What were you supposed to say? You didn’t have much and what you gave away was a big sacrifice in terms of your day to day survival. 

You also didn’t think Leshy would be pleased, if you brought seasoned meat. He was, after all, a protector of wild animals. That sort of disrespect may have killed you on the spot.

Suddenly, you felt his hand brush along your waist. A light, fleeting touch, but enough to send a jolt down your spine.

“Moreover, you try to barter a single basket for dozens of lives.” Steve stopped in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” You lowered your head in shame, feeling the burning tears gather beneath your eyelids.

He was right and you didn’t think of that when you were packing your basket. It made you feel helpless, that you had nothing else to offer. 

“Don’t be.” Steve tilted your chin up with the pads of his fingertips. His gaze was soft, glinting sincerity.

“You still did more than any other human has for decades. I’m just pointing out that a life can be compared in cost to another life, nothing else. No riches equal a heartbeat.” 

You understood the value, agreed with it completely. But it made the situation look unsolvable. The fate of your village was doomed to go through horrors, since there was no other way to barter for it. 

Then you registered the warmth of Steve’s fingers still holding your chin. His thumb angled to rub along your lower lip. You were in the hands of a powerful deity. Steve may have appeared nonthreatening, but he was still an ancient entity demanding a sacrifice. 

No riches equal a heartbeat. You had a heartbeat. A rapidly fluttering one, at the moment; bouncing against the bars of your ribcage in fear of being ripped from it.

“You mean-” You swallowed a bile rising in your throat. “My life for theirs?”

You wanted to help your village, to help people in general. That need to care and nurture have always been so deeply ingrained in you. But you wanted to live! You wanted to experience feelings and wonders, joys and losses. You weren’t ready to meet the end so soon, so unexpectedly. The two needs - to help and to survive - were clashing in violence. 

Steve’s hand moved from your chin to cup your cheek. Since he was the only comfort available at the moment, you leaned into his touch. A soothing shush spilled from his lips as he caught your panicked gaze and locked it with his. 

“I’m not thirsty for blood, little fern.” He assured you. “I long for company.”

Somehow, looking into his eyes and sinking into the warmth his closeness provided, you felt the fear subsiding. Slowly, still leaving instinctive distrust, but it eased away.

“You want a friend?” You blinked, a little confused. 

Of course you understood what he meant the moment he said it, but a voice of reason wouldn’t accept the fact this beautiful, powerful being wanted to bed you. Out of all the things a deity may demand, fucking an unimpressive mortal like you shouldn’t be on the list. 

Steve laughed at your question, genuinely amused.

Instantly, choirs of birds joined his mirth in a tinkling melody that carried through the forest. 

“No.” Steve shook his head; smile-caused crinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes and the filigree vines along his skin curled. 

“I’ve got friends. You would meet them, if you stayed.” It surprised you, teasing your curiosity about what other beings roamed these forests. 

Your thoughts didn’t stay focused on the matter for long. Not when Steve’s hand slid down the column of your neck, his other arm weaving around your waist and pulling you close to his body. 

Very close. Even through the fabrics of your skirts and corset you felt the hard planes of his muscles against the softness of your body. Your hands landed on his chest, at first in an attempt to brace yourself to perhaps fight him off, but any force to push away dissipated. Instead, your fingertips were tingling. 

Steve’s breath teased your skin as he leaned down, trailing his lips along your jaw. 

“I want intimacy. Passion. And devotion.” He murmured, gripping the back of your neck as his other hand dipped lower to squeeze the flesh of your bottom. 

Abruptly, your whole body tensed and you gasped when something coiled around your ankles. Thin and tickling, possibly an ivy vine. It curled along your legs, reaching upwards. Teasing your skin with a brush of leaves and forcing your legs slightly apart.

Steve’s lips grazed the shell of your ear.

“I wish to splay you on the moss and have it soak up your sweet juices as I play with your pretty cunt.” 

You jerked in his embrace, but your core ignited. Heat pooled low in your abdomen, spreading down in a quick wave and filling your folds.  

“I want to stretch you on my cock and have you call me your god not out of fear, but the pleasure I give you.” The vines that weaved around your legs didn’t reach far up your thighs, but if they had, your wetness would coat the delicate leaves. 

“I want to fill you, until you bloom flowers and berries.” 

Breathing became hard as the images filled your head; though you doubted it was a trick of his, more your own imagination eagerly supplying possibilities Steve words enticed. 

When Steve unexpectedly released you and took a step back, you shivered as if you were dropped into a cold cave. Deprived of light and warmth.

He appeared more inhuman as he stretched to his full height and loomed over you. 

“Are you willing to sacrifice?” 

His voice echoed with the power of a booming wind, rattling your bones and swishing up your skirts.

The trees surrounding you seemed to grow out their branches, weaving into thick, green walls closing up. Sunlight, just moments ago filtering through the tree crowns, had disappeared; but the dots of luminescent fireflies flickered on, filling the space with a deceptively warm glow.

Shaken from the daze Steve’s proximity and dirty words have caused, you faced the deal he was proposing with a clearer mind. 

You’d be bound to the forest as long as Steve wanted to keep you, having to abandon your human life and plans. But you would be alive. And so would the villagers, some of whom were your friends. 

You chanced one more look at the wall of branches and vines, briefly wondering if he’d let you go had you refused. Probably. But it was uncertain what awaited your village, or any other, if you backed out. 

Taking a deep breath, you turned back to Steve. You gripped the fabric of your skirt to cover the nervous shaking of your fingers. 

“Yes,” the word rolled out on your tongue like a faint whisper, but he heard it. 

His eyes shimmered with tempting joy, like the reflection of sunlight on the rippling sheet of a lake. In a blink of an eye he was right in front of you, his hands on your hips.   

“I’ll be good to you, my little fern.” Tip of his nose nudged along yours, warm breath softening your lips into compliance. 

When he kissed you, it felt as if berries burst on your tongue, filling your mouth with sweet flavor. 

Your hands traveled up his arms, clutching his shoulders. The one covered in bark provided a new, unique sensation. It grazed your fingertips, but also felt grounding. He didn’t have to pull you closer, your body turned pliant on its own volition. 

Steve swallowed your gasp, gripping your hips tighter, as thick vines of ivy rapidly wound around you. They covered you whole, like they had that stone altar before. It felt scary and suffocating, but as soon as the cocoon of greenery swallowed your forms fully it burst apart; leaves scattered around in a fountain. 

You broke the kiss, tipping your head away and looking around. You were no longer in the same spot. You were in no recognizable place, to be exact. 

If you could find a name for it, the heart of the forest would be it. 

Light green grass spread around in a thick carpet, with patterns of bluebells and lilies of the valley. Graceful, tall birches circled the place, their silvery leaves catching chunks of sun rays. By a spot where wild rose bushes weaved an intricate arch stood a big bed. Easily high at hip height, woven tightly of green moss and periwinkles.

Steve didn’t give you much time to admire. With a firm push of his hand he tilted your head back towards him. Kept cupping your cheek as he kissed you again, more urgently this time. Demanding. 

He released you to tug on your clothes, doing a swift job with layers of your skirts, but grumbling a bit when trying to untie your corset. 

“Won’t need that anymore here, little fern,” he purred as your breasts spilled out. 

Then he was picking you up, big hands gripping the back of your thighs and hoisting you easily. He sat on the bed, slowly easing you down until you were standing between his spread legs. 

It was only then that you realized the coverage around his hips was gone, leaving him exposed in all his glory. 

You couldn’t help peeking down. Your pussy clenched around nothing as you stared at the impressive size of him. Your mouth filled with the aftertaste of berries and your own saliva as his cock twitched upwards.

Steve’s hands roamed over your body, exploring your curves and lines with utmost fascination. He didn’t hesitate leaning forward to capture a stiff nipple into his mouth, sucking eagerly. His antlers gave you a scare as they brushed so close to your skin, but not once did his movement cause you pain. 

Feeling a little bolder, you slipped one of your hands between the roots of his antlers and into his hair. They felt soft and silky. Your other hand gripped the top of his shoulder; the one where bark printed into your palm in a sensation you were finding more and more pleasant. 

As Steve pulled back slightly, you slipped your fingers from his hair and across his face, mapping out contours and scratching through his beard. He gripped one of your legs under your knee and pulled it up, placing your foot on the bed and spreading you obscenely. His eyes darkened, something wolfish glinting in them as his gaze settled on your puffed, wet folds.

“Show me how you touch yourself,” he demanded in a raspy voice. 

The hand on your calf kept caressing and squeezing your flesh, while his other fisted his cock as your fingers dipped between your thighs. 

None of your lovers ever expressed desire to see you pleasure yourself, but Steve’s gaze was so heated you didn’t feel shy. Quite the opposite, somehow it felt so easy and natural; even more arousing as Steve licked his lips in unmasked hunger.

“Let me taste you. I bet you’re sweeter and richer than any honey.” 

You moaned, pushing two fingers inside and pumping them in and out a few times. When you brought your glistening digits to his lips, Steve licked them in a broad stroke of his tongue then took them into his mouth. His greedy sucking had your clit pulsing wildly.

“Delicious,” he hummed in delight, “and so ready for me, aren’t you?” 

Swiftly, he grabbed your hips and pulled you over his lap. Your gasp at the sudden movement and the feeling of his cock against your inner thigh combined with Steve’s loud groan of pleasure, when you gripped his antlers to steady yourself.

“That’s it. Keep touching them.” He urged you on as he slid you down his shaft. “It’s as if you were gripping my cock.”

“Nghh!” You keened, tightening your desperate hold on the antlers as your walls stretched around Steve’s girth. 

“Too big!” You whined, yet your hips followed the command of Steve’s hands as he guided you down. 

“Shh, my little fern. Take it. I know you can.” He was mercilessly forcing you down, moaning as your tight, hot walls enveloped him. “All your sweet holes will learn to take all of me.”

By the time he was buried to the root, you were shaking in pleasure. Your cheek was pressed to Steve’s, your breath coming out in jagged, hot puffs. Where your breasts were squished into the hard planes of Steve’s chest, it felt as if the filigree vines pulsing beneath his skin moved to tease your nipples. Steve’s hands were splayed on your hips, holding you in place as he savored the feel of your pussy around him. 

After a moment, he began rocking up into you and a few heartbeats later started bouncing you up and down his length. Soon your whimpers stretched into moans. Despite feeling boneless in his powerful hold, you also felt a surge of need to take from him as much as he was taking from your pliant body. 

You held Steve’s gaze as you straightened your back and started riding him; your fingers squeezing his antlers. 

When your climax hit, it was intense and unworldly. 

The first burst of it felt like falling into a cool mountain streak, only for the next tremors to fill you with heat and glow. Your head spinned and your moans and cries intertwined with small gasps of laughter. It was everything at once! Running with the wolves, picking fresh raspberries, twirling around in summer rain. 

And when Steve followed soon after, cumming with a loud roar, each spurt of his seed seemed to immerse you in hot springs. 

It was a rush of sensations; overwhelming, but addictive. 

When you met Steve’s gaze - both of you breathing heavily and still rocking into the continuous rhythm of aftershocks - you had no idea your irises bore first specks of inhuman green. All you knew was that you wanted more.

And so you demanded it.

Steve’s grin at your responsiveness was near predatory. He pinned you beneath him on the soft mossy pillows, placed your ankles over his shoulders and plunged into you in a hard thrust that had your scream echoing through the woods. 

Soon you’d be bound to him and the forest with every cell of your changing body. 

[f1girliefics]

Twisted Anger

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Summary: A silly argument and a friend's wedding can only end well.

You weren't even sure anymore what the argument was about.

Was it his busy schedule? Was it your jealousy because he was constantly surrounded by babes? Was it the fact that he never cleaned up in the kitchen after himself?

You weren't sure anymore.

But you were angry.

Even as you stood by your best friend at the altar. Even as you felt his gaze burning into the back of your head.

You needed to focus.

This wasn't your time. 

It was hers.

Her dress was perfect, and you made sure the groom wouldn't run off.

You busied yourself all morning with the wedding just so your thoughts wouldn't fill with Daniel.

It was difficult, because every quiet moment, your mind wandered.

Not only to the argument, but just him.

The years you two spent together, it felt silly to let all that go just because of some unwashed dishes.

But all he had to do was put them into the dishwasher.

Silly argument, which made you storm out of your apartment and made you pretend you didn't know him as he sat on the bench of the church while you stood in the front.

You recognized how silly it was.

But you also couldn't help it.

All things came crashing down on you. He was under a lot of pressure to prove himself with his new team, he didn't need your nagging.

It hasn't even been a day, yet you felt bad and angry still. You missed him when you turned and took a glance at his face, you just wanted to smack him. 

It was difficult. 

But you knew you loved him more than an argument.

You will talk with him, but for now, you focused on being there for your friend for her big day.

At least it kept you occupied.

---

Perhaps your third shot wasn't the best idea. But you felt like you needed it.

Daniel was sitting beside you all night and you swore you could cut the tension with a butter knife.

You tried your best to ignore it, for your friend. 

But now you felt lightheaded, you needed fresh air. The music also didn't help, so, you excused yourself from the table.

You walked a bit further from the venue. You found a bench and sat down.

You took deep breaths and closed your eyes.

You felt the alcohol running through you.

As you opened your eyes you saw Daniel standing close to you.

"Are you okay?" he asked. 

"Yeah. No."

"You must be drunk, I saw how much you had."

"I'm about to be." 

"Before you do... can we talk? You avoided me all day."

"This is my best friend's wedding. She doesn't need my drama today."

Silence.

He didn't know what to say, and you started to really feel the alcohol, which made it extremely difficult to not say a thing.

"You know... I'm not even sure why we argued yesterday." you confessed as you looked at your high heels, your feet hurt, but your heart hurt more.

"You were right, I should help around the house more." he sat down next to you.

"Nah. You do all the... famous person shit. You are a 'high performance athlete' I should be able to handle a couple of unwashed plates. BUT we have a dishwasher for a reason. At least put them in there... please."

You saw him nod his head when you stood up.

You took two steps when you collapsed and let out a hiss.

You held your ankle.

"Oh shit, Babe are you okay?! Don't move it, let me see."

You watched him as he carefully looked at your ankle. You kept staring and now, you couldn't blame the alcohol.

You loved him.

You loved him so much.

As he slowly moved your shoe off your foot, he was so gentle. It made you smile.

"Does this hurt?" he asked but you didn't hear him. You were too busy looking at his gorgeous face.

When you didn't reply he looked at your face, and seeing that you were smiling he let out a huff.

"I was worried and you are not even hurt."

Yeah, you might have faked it for his reaction, but it was worth it.

"You look sexy when you are worried." you said as you moved and grabbed him by the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

You knew you couldn't promise that you wouldn't argue anymore, it was unrealistic.

But you knew you would always kiss and make up.

!DO NOT TRANSLATE, REPOST OR PLAGIRISE MY WORK!

[mariaofdoranelle]

The Courtship Deception - Part 11: Fracture

Fic masterlist

Written for @throneofglassmicrofics

I also used the Yacht prompt from @rowaelinprompts!!

This is me posting and running away byeee

Warnings: none?

Words: 965

Rowan’s turbulent engagement had nothing and everything to do with his bride. Regardless, he’d spare no effort to take the weight off of her shoulders and treasure the engagement’s good moments with her.

For the last romantic hangout before the wedding, Rowan picked the least polluted lake close to the city and borrowed one of the Galathynius’ yacht—not the big one for parties, but the smaller one reserved for close friends and family. They were both on the deck, lying on a hammock-like net that allowed them to see the water under them.

As if this would make him pay attention to the lake when Aelin wore a red bikini so small it couldn’t exist in a three-dimensional space.

They laid on their sides facing each other, soaking in that blissful silence while Aelin appreciatively ran her hand through his torso and shoulder.

“Are you sure you’ve got this all figured out?” she asked for the second or third time today.

Rowan stiffened, then forced himself to loosen up and gave her a lazy grin. He was insecure about his own ability to pull this off, yes, but he didn’t need to stress his bride right before the wedding.

“You…” Rowan kissed her jaw, cheek and nose. “The only thing you need to worry about is getting on that altar.” A slow kiss on the mouth this time. “All pretty and pampered for me. You should put on something pretty enough to post pictures with, but not so much I can’t ruin it later.”

Aelin put their foreheads together, eyes closed as she caressed his cheek. “You sure? Because I have a plan if you’re not. I know people who would benefit from us getting married.”

He leaned away, frowning. “Who? Your ex-boyfriends?”

Come on, she seemed to say with her eyes.

Rowan let out a dry laugh. “I’ll pass.”

“Very well, then.” A sigh. “Also, we never discussed what we’re doing after we’re married.”

Yes, they haven’t, and for a reason that kept him up a night.

She continued, “My dad is convinced we’re moving to Doranelle after we marry. Is that what you think we should do?

“I don’t know, Fireheart, this is something you should be telling me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Aelin, I’m not marrying you to cage you.” Rowan fiddled with the fingers on her left hand, trying and failing not to show his nerves too much as he said, “Once we’re married, you’re free.”

“Is that what you want?”

“You’re missing the point.” Rowan ran a hand through his hand, staring at the gentle crash of the lake’s small waves while he searched for the right words to explain his plan. “It’s not about what I want. You can use my last name or keep yours, live with me or move to the Red Desert if you wish. Once we marry, you’re free from your father to do whatever you want.”

Gulls flew by, crying out in a way that Rowan couldn’t help but relate. As Aelin regarded him with a profound silence, he knew that this was it. All the time Rowan wondered if this was real or he was just fucking himself over to get a broken heart in return—she was about to lay his fate in front of him.

“Though what you’re doing is much appreciated…” Aelin trailed, then beheld him for a moment with such tenderness and sincerity he couldn’t look away.

“I love you, Rowan, and I will follow you to whatever end.”

For a long moment, he said nothing. But his brows narrowed slightly. “To whatever end?”

She nodded, interlacing their fingers together without taking her eyes off his.

Rowan squeezed her hand. “You said you wanted to travel without people following your every step, but I hope you can make an exception for me.”

“Sounds perfect, actually.”

She grinned, and the feeling it evoked in him made all the effort he was making look like nothing compared to it. Rowan would easily start a war for that smile alone.

“And Aelin?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

She pushed Rowan’s chest so he could lay on his back, then rested her head atop it. If Aelin could read into his erratic heartbeat, at least they’d be married in a couple of days.

˜

Later that day, Rowan was summoned for the umpteenth time since settling the engagement—the wedding planner was the worst of all, but this time it was Rhoe who requested him on his office.

And by the frightened look his secretary wore, his soon-to-be father-in-law wasn’t having a good day.

The man was already waiting for him, and the air inside the office felt eerie. The entire time they exchanged pleasantries, it lacked the false warmth Rhoe used to compliment Rowan’s false title.

“Do you know about Aelin’s mother?” The older man finally asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“I don’t need to remind you about the ties your family has to the Ashryvers, do I?”

“You don’t, sir.”

He leaned back in his chair, regarding him with a sinister smirk. “Now, imagine my surprise when, after I send the invitations, Aelin’s uncle calls me to congratulate on the wedding and says how surprised he is that you decided to marry someone with royal blood.” Rhoe cocked his head, the lethal intensity of his glare piercing through the faux-prince. “I’m sure you already know how our conversation went after.”

He swallowed. A cold, paralyzing fear spread through his body—what frightened Rowan wasn’t the man before him, but how he held Aelin’s fate in his greedy hands.

“I can imagine, sir.”

Rhoe opened a drawer and pulled a stack of papers Rowan knew too well. “Is there anything you want to add before we go over the penalties for breach of contract?”

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Teaser thoughts

I had to do adulting (leave for a suddenly rescheduled appt) 20 mins after the trailer dropped this morning, so I'm only now starting to get my thoughts settled but omg I have to write this stuff down or how will I know what I think

here we go

Rayllum flying together. Is it cute, romantic, or is it some twist where they're going somewhere for horrible reasons in a hurry and they can't even take the Shadowpaw. Where is the Shadowpaw why are they fl-

Does Ethari have his Shadowpaw back is that why they have to fly

Love the bisexual vibes here ngl

Starscraper is over land. It's not a deep thought shhh

The search for Zubeia. I'm curious why Ezran has let two of his best Crownguard leave his side. Surely this will have no consequences!

Janaya kiss with Amaya on her tippy toes. Janai has her crown on here. I feel that's relevant for uhh later. I hope this is real and not a dream Janai is having - those have not been going well for her.

This one makes me sad. The picture is torn, but then mended, and I love that. But it's set up like you'd see at a funeral.

Is this one super early on in episode 1 maybe? It could be the same night as the end of S5. That feels more likely than Terry catching up to Claudia later on... specifically in her allowing him close after what we got in the other trailer. Aahhh

This one has so much in it, I can't! It's got star bug stuff which I'm extremely here for, let the gods be gooey. It's got the whole quasar diamond crown right there. It's got Rayllum having a close moment. and it's posed like they're at the altar in a chapel getting married. Also the star is upside down in the stained glass window, so whatever theme is going on it's being consistent there.

This is one of my favorites: Ezran out on his own castle bridge defending it. Ye Olde Narrative of Strength got to him! Opeli looking worried has me worried - she's usually so certain and swift. This could be Viren trying to come home like a half drowned rat - will they let him in? Don't make me think of the men of Númenor right now, do not.

Battle couple battle couple! Rayla and Callum teaming up again! (she's the dark blob kicking free in the upper left) I love when a couple fights together. gonna be super normal about that.

This top down view of the Starscraper is a little dizzying, ngl. With Callum and Rayla tiny at the bottom, three floors down, these flying, circling elves give me shark vibes. What if they're not nice. like at all.

Why was Stella falling!? what are the Celestials doing, are they helping or are they trying thievery? Is this just a big mob of seagulls here

Janai is losing control of her emotions, she's furious and sad. She's setting fire to the Sun Seed tree. We know the Seed was stolen, but maybe this is her finding out, early on. It's less angsty if it's early, you know how things always get Worse during the course of a TDP season lmfao. If it's later on, maybe the fact that she isn't wearing her crown is... important.

Rayla in the frozen ship. Why's it burning, what's she there for? why did she go alone? This gives me some Banther Lodge infiltration vibes ngl.

Okay I am all about this altercation. Viren shoving Kpp'Ar to the floor in fury. are they arguing about Soren? dark magic? both? neither? What's the logo stand for, what's the I for in IK? Does he have a show called It's Kpp'Ar and they're just on set? lmfao the real reason there are gears everywhere is to change the rooms around isn't it. Kpp'Ar just got sick of those extra 29 steps to the kitchen.

Few things are scarier than a True Believer getting everything he wants. this shot of Karim being so filled with elation cannot be saying good things for Janai's prospects. He's got all kinds of cool Sunfire stuff on, too, including a crown, and his old tin ring from his mother. Those things were confiscated when he was exiled, which means he must not be exiled anymore. He could be king, having displaced Janai somehow, and he's fulfilling his intentions to his people by bringing back the glory of the Sunfire elves by healing their injured archdragon. Or so he hopes, anyway! We'll see if it works.

Sol Regem has come out of his cave and he's got that Power Dragon Wingspread going on. Looks like he's been convinced to take a swing for uhhh big dragon things! I wonder how far his power will reach... and his bitterness. We might get a new Dragon King that makes Avizandum look soft.

It's so interesting to me what we did not get to see in the teaser, too. There's no Aaravos, no Aanya, no Runaan or Ethari, no Kim'dael. If we get another trailer before July 26, maybe they'll be in there! Or maybe we'll just have to white knuckle it until release day.

Hold on tight! S6 is coming!

[seullovesme]

pasilyo » kang seulgi

pairing ⥬ seulgi x reader

genre ⥬ angst

summary ⥬ you could imagine her walking down the aisle, but maybe it wouldn't be you waiting for her at the altar in end.

warnings ⥬ n/a (not proofread)

you stuck your hand out in front of your chest, staring intensely at how vigorously it was shaking. seungwan, your best woman, took notice of how nervous you were and chortled to herself.

it was cute to see you freak out on your big day, not to mention that you were going to be forever bound to the love of you life. for you, it was horrifying. it wasn't that you were afraid to marry her, but you were terrified that a few years later she'll realize that this was a big mistake. you were already at the altar, only now waiting for your bride, and you were getting cold feet?

seungwan was not going to let you throw it away. she could tell by your unstable breathing that you were more than just nervous.

"hey, you okay bud?" she asked as she tapped your shoulder, making you jump as you had completely drowned out your surroundings. it made her smile to see her best friend like a little kid again. "wedding day jitters?"

"fuck... wan it's more than jitters. what if... what if i'm not her soulmate? what if we gets divorced because i'm not a good enough wife?!" you exclaim. you both turned to the crowd and apologized for your outburst, the people whispering and giggling. seungwan only giggles as well.

"come on! i'm basically cupid. you think i just helped you get with her because you were desperate for a girlfriend in high school? well if so then you are wrong, i helped you because you are the perfect wife for her and her for you, you guys complete each other. i knew from that moment in high school that you would be here, on this altar. so shut the hell up, and get ready to be married."

"but–"

"look! there she is!" seungwan whisper yells and points the the end of the aisle. your eyes widen and you straighten up, adjusting your suit and turning to face the correct way.

you look down the aisle and first you only see her father, until she walks out to stand beside him.

and she is just breathtaking.

she links arms with her dad and her eyes meet yours as shes sporting that bearish eye smile you adore so much. she takes a few steps towards you and you feel like she's moving in slow motion.

seulgi, your wife. the woman you'd spend your life with.

your eyes filled with tears, your smile twice the size of her own. you promised her you wouldn't cry because it made her cry, but you couldn't help but let the streams flow, the dams burst.

seulgi looked more than majestic in her beautiful white dress that perfectly shaped her frame. her hair was styled in an updo, but it was very simple as she preferred it that way. it was like you were watching an angel walk down the aisle.

"it's you.. you.. you."

an aggressive slam on the wooden school desk woke you up in an instant, dazed from the nap you took. you wiped the drool you felt on your face and arm, slightly embarrassed that you were so deep asleep. the culprit of the sound pinched your cheek as hard as she could.

"sleep well bud? i had some news to tell you, but you were sleep mumbling. 'it's you.. you', are you going crazy?" seungwan teased as you shoved her hand away, rubbing the aching spot with your other hand. you scowled at the girl angrily.

"why the hell did you wake me up?!" you asked, clearly annoyed. "i was having a good dream."

"ooooh, was it a dirty one?" seungwan smirked and you jabbed her stomach, frustrated that she was messing with you when you had just woken up. "chill, alright! i was just kidding. what were you dreaming abou–"

"hi guys!" your head shot up at the sound of her voice. the bearlike girl stood a few feet away, waving with her cute smile on display. all you could think about was your dream.

you do want to marry this girl.

"seulgi!" seungwan dashed to her as fast as she could and wrapped her in tight embrace, seulgi doing the same. you didn't even have time to say anything before the two shared a small kiss.

you were just left watching them from your seat, stunned like a deer caught in headlights. seulgi and seungwan? but how? were you really that clueless, how did you not even notice they were together? you didn't even know wan liked her that way.

they both walked to you, hand-in-hand, grinning like idiots and you just wanted to get up and run away as far as possible.

but you didnt. and you felt like the real idiot.

"this is my news, seulgi and i started dating!"

pasilyo is a cute song and u should listen to it🤗

[mrsjavierp]

Where You Belong?

Chapter 1 - Do you know who I am?

Javier Peña x latin! f! Reader

Summary: Running away from life as you always knew to start a new position as Head Chief on a DEA Office, far away, on Colombia. There, you'll face violence, as you never thought you could. There, you'll meet Javier Peña, your stubborn agent...

Warnings (to the WHOLE fic): +18! angst, smut, cheating, past relationships, drug dealing, Narcos Universe, violence... Bad Spanish (sorry), English is my second language. Using "y/n" and "y/ln".

(If I forgot any warning, pls tell me!)

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I need to thank my new friend @creedslove for the support here. Girl, thanks so much!

As I said before, that's my first fic that I ever post in my whole adult life. I couldn't resist Javier Peña breaking into my dreams. My mind is on fire!

Hope you all liked it!

Suggestions are always welcome!

**

Narrator's POV:

Lighting up his cigarette, Javier Peña looked through his bedroom window. It was just another hot night, just like the ones that passed or the ones coming. His latest bar conquest was laying down on his bed, sleeping peacefully.

A peace that was nowhere near familiar to him.

Javi closed his eyes, inhaling his cigarette. Tasting as it was the most delicious thing in his mouth at that time.

Even with this scalding heat, even the loud noises on the streets at ungodly hours, even the so-called "drug war" - that he was fighting on his country's behalf... When he thought about all the bad things going on, nothing compared to his own personal war that was waiting for him in Texas.

Yes, Colombia felt better than being at Rancho Peña with his wife and son.

That was really fucking painful, since Laredo once were his home.

His wife, Lorraine, that one who he almost left at the altar... If it weren't for his kid on her womb.

His son... Javier felt like he was the only good thing that came out of his marriage. His sweet little baby boy, gentle and loving, totally unlike his awful mother.

Javier inhales his cigarette for the last time, puts it out and lays down again.

The girl he brought home was still asleep quietly next to him, breathing lightly as a feather.

For a moment, as he looked at her, he felt so jealous: he envied her youth, her freedom, her possibilities...

War against Escobar wasn't even that bad when he thought about his war against Lorraine. He knew, once he stepped foot on Laredo again, his life would be really miserable.

Yes, Javier Peña preferred to live just like that: alone in Colombia, drinking too much whiskey, smoking too many cigarettes, fucking around with prostitutes and random women, sleeping 3 hours per night, seeing horrible things the men did to enemies...

Yes, he chose loneliness over his unhappy marriage.

Neither su mama or Chucho made him do it, but the way he was raised and his sense of responsibility tied him to Lorraine. Her family, as herself, loved to live by the so-called good costumes.

He hated their hypocrisy.

Tired, Javier finally lay down and tried to sleep, tried, one more time, stay away from his real life nightmares.

*

Steve snorted when he noticed Javier walking into the DEA office, clearly hangover, wearing a beige suit and his golden aviator sunglasses.

"Could at least clean up better, Peña. We've got a guest."

Frowning his forehead, he took off his glasses and asked: "DEA is bringing people from Miami again?"

"No, NYC. Y/LN is a huge name there, made a bunch of arrests, big ones, actually. Drug Lords... Does it ring a bell to you? The rumor is that Y/LN is going to help us end Escobar... Someone said that, with Y/LN in the house, we've got a better shot."

Javier snorted and said: "Let's see if this cabrón is actually good or not."

"Javi..." - Steve started.

"Spill, Murphy."

"Nevermind, Peña. Come on, all the others are waiting in the conference room already."

Steve knew better than to say, from the beginning, that Y/LN was, in fact, a woman. And she was exactly his type: the one who will not get involved with him nor their teammates, sex and work do not meet. Her fame was really well known in NYC and went to Colombia with Y/LN... And, hot as hell.

They walked to the conference room, with all the other DEA agents waiting for her.

"Who does this pendejo think that he is, making us wait? Where's this motherfucker?" - Javier thought.

A few minutes later, Javier observed that his colleagues were looking for their seats when a beautiful woman walked in. Although he didn't quite understand, he copied their moves.

Wearing a white button down shirt, a black tight skirt knees high, heels and her hair loose, she started her speech:

"Buenos dias, amigos." - her accent was crystal clear latin, just like his. Her red lips showed her pretty smile. - "I'm guessing that you're all asking yourselves why they sent me here. The answer is quite simple, actually: you didn't catch the motherfucker. I came here to make it faster and more effective. Don't expect me to sit behind my desk and read reports, I'm a field agent just like all of you. I don't like nor want secrets to be kept from me. Oh, by the way, I'm Y/N, but I'd rather be Y/LN. I came from NYC invited by the DEA and the Embassy. Got any questions?"

They looked at each other, in silence.

"Let's cut to the chase, then."

"Holyfuck..." - was the only thing going on Javier's mind.

Steve held it up, because he knew exactly what Javi was thinking.

*

"Let's go, Peña. We're all going to drink with our new boss. Stop being such an ass and hurry up. Word on the streets that she loves a good whiskey, just like you." - he teased.

Javier rolled his eyes, he knew he had to go, he had no other choice. He hated this mandatory get togethers... At least, he got a new card on his set: his gorgeous new boss.

Arriving at the bar next to their office, people went to their own groups. Once more, he looked at her, from a safe distance, admiring her.

Javier Peña wasn't a greedy man, he'd love to take his time, go with the flow. He was pretty confident that his boss was aware of his... Kind, per say, and he was counting on it.

He ordered 2 whiskies, neat.

Walking up to Y/LN, Murphy and Connie, with 2 whiskies in hand, he said:

"Bienvenida, jefe. Here, a welcome drink. Hope you enjoy it, I heard it's your favorite."

"Javier Peña..." - his name felt like music in her voice. - "Is that really your name, or do you use another one with your girls?" - She, Connie and Steve laugh their asses off. - "Sorry... I mean, informants." - She took the drink from his hand. - "Gracias, Peña. Salut!" - she had a sip.

Javier couldn't believe it.

"Nice taste, Peña... I mean, the drink, of course." - she looked at Connie and Steve, who shared a hug. - "To friendship as well, Connie, honey, you're so sweet... And Steve, you're not as bad. Can't say the same about where you get your inside info. What brings you here, to us?"

He stared at Steve, really pissed off. He was positive that joke had his signature.

Pretending not to hear half the things his boss said, he responded:

"About Connie, I agree. I still can't believe Murphy got married to such a nice gal." - Javier smiled. - "I just wanted to welcome you and wish you luck, jefe."

"I don't believe in luck, Agent Peña. I believe in facts... But thank you, you seem to mean well. If you all excuse me..." - and Y/N left to the restroom, leaving the empty glass on the way.

Javier was LIVID. That bitch... He never wanted to get Escobar so badly.

"Did I do something to her?" - Javier asked the couple.

Steve and Connie shared a look and a laugh. There was absolutely no reason for Javier's reaction towards Y/N.

"Javier Jesus Peña, have you ever been rejected?" - Connie asked. - "You haven't, have you?"

"That's not the point..."

"Congrats, Javi... She's your first." - Steve completed. - "And to make it even funnier, she's not going anywhere."

Javi didn't say anything more. He just looked around, trying to see if he could avoid going home alone.

*

As rare as it may seem, Javier chose to come home by himself. Connie and Steve had way too many drinks and, as a good friend, he helped his neighbors to arrive safely.

But, it meant that he was alone with his thoughts, and insisted on going back to Y/LN. To think about the way she talks, moves, dresses... So smart, so gorgeous, so sexy... But so far away, at the same time she was so close, just right next door.

"What the fuck is her problem with me?" - Javier whispered to him. He poured more whiskey to drink, as he remembered her red lips and wished... - "I can't think about her like that!"

He finished the drink in one big sip and lit a cigarette, trying, in vain, not to be with his dick hard.

But his brain had other plans... His brain, almost as a betrayal, kept recalling him about Y/N. He tried to go take a cold shower, but, again, in vain.

As he stood under cold water, his dick was still very much hard.

As he cursed himself and his stupid dick who couldn't see a pretty girl, his hand went to satisfy his needs.

His need for you.

He gave in to his darkest secrets and came on his fist, calling you.

*

Y/N's POV - 1st Person

As I walked home, I could only think about how stupid I was.

Why did I did such a thing?

"It was for the best, anyway..." - I said to myself, as I took off my clothes and sank into my tub. - "Hard, but smart. Play safe. Out of sight, out of mind..." - I continued to lie to myself.

As my hands spread the soap through my body, my mind kept bringing him back to me... His beige suit, his stupid cocky smile, his big hands...

"Oh, fuck... Why do I like Peña so much? Oh, yeah, he's handsome, smart, latin and oh, yeah, reminds me of my stupid cheating ex who loved a prostitute..." - I kept talking to myself, bitter.

"If i don't blow off some of this, I'm going nuts. So, let's do it."

And my hands touched myself until I came really hard to my new fantasy: ride Javier Peña as he called me "su jefe".

Next

[cal-a-bungaa]

My Angel

My Angel - Josh Kiszka

Synopsis: A pretty angel all dressed in white just for him

Word count: 1k

Warnings: Josh being nervous and cute

Enjoy!

__________

Though he was used to being on stage, all eyes on him at this moment felt like he was going to be swallowed whole. He stood at the end of the aisle, waiting. The minister stood beside him with no emotion showing on his face as they all waited. It felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest and make a run for it. 

His family sat in front of him as did hers minus his brothers. He could really use them beside him right now, but he had to wait for them as well. Wiping his sweaty, shaking palms down the sides of his pitch black slacks, he stood there impatiently. His mom flashed him a reassuring smile, but it did little to ease him. He wasn’t nervous that you’d back out, he was nervous to see your beauty after two long days of not being able to because you insisted it was ‘tradition’ for the groom to not see the bride before the big day. And boy, he really wasn’t ready. 

The slow music rang through the speakers, telling everyone it was starting; she was coming soon. His twin brother and your best friend walked happily down the aisle with arms linked and obnoxiously large smiles. It was reassuring to finally have his other half with him. Jake clasped his hand on his shoulder as he went to stand behind him. Pair by pair, each member of the wedding party piled in to stand at the altar with him. 

Your father stood at the opposite end of the aisle, arm out for you to latch onto as you came around the corner. Jake’s hands remained on his shoulders, squeezing on the occasion as he joked with Sam who stood behind him. 

The music changed to the song you’d once mentioned to him that you’d love to walk down the aisle to on your second date. And soon enough, there you stood. 

“Holy shit.” His brothers whispered in awe. 

Josh was speechless. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. The intricate lace detailing that decorated you was something he never could’ve imagined. The yellow and orange flowers you held close to your heart complimented your skin and eyes, bringing out the features of you that he loved the most. He hadn’t even realized that he was tearing up until he felt Jake bump his shoulder and chuckle. You were an angel dripping with jewels and genuine beauty. His beautiful angel. 

All eyes were now on you, admiring each step you took closer to the one you were giving yourself to. Every nerve he felt had vanished. He now needed his hands on you and for you to finally be his. 

Finally you stood right in front of him and he couldn’t breathe or see clearly with the tears brimming along his lash line. Your father kissed your cheek before placing your hand in your soon-to-be husbands. Your nails had even been done to perfection, a pleasing cream color. He could now see the smallest details in your appearance, the pearl earrings his mother had given you, the diamond necklace from your first anniversary together and the way your dress shimmered in the sunlight. Tears pricked your eyes as well, threatening to ruin your makeup. 

“You may be seated.” The minister announces before continuing on with his speech. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the love that these two share for one another and the words that shall unite them in marriage.” 

Your smile was so big that it was beginning to hurt your face, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You were marrying the love of your life, the only one for you. You’d be staring at one another for so long that it felt like you were the only two people in the room, completely ignoring the minister who’d announced it was time for the vows. 

Your fiance snapped out of his daze, “Fuck. Vows? Yes.” 

The crowd roared with laughter at his oblivion and nerves. “Please recite your vows Mr. Kiszka.” 

He bowed his head before looking up into your teary eyes again. “Today. I-um,” he stutters, “I promise to dedicate myself to you completely with my body, soul, and mind.” 

Quickly pausing, he looks back at his brothers for guidance and Jake simply nods at him to continue.

“In this life, in every situation, in wealth or in poverty, in health or sickness, in happiness or difficulty, I will work to help you perfectly.” He gained confidence in his words as he stared at you and Jake held his shoulder as he shook. “The purpose of our relationship will be to attain enlightenment by perfecting our kindness and compassion toward all sentient beings.” he finishes. 

After a moment of silence before the minister can speak again, your fiance opens his mouth again, “And might I say, fuck! You look gorgeous, angel.” The guests burst into laughter once more. 

“Now, Ms._, please recite your vows.” 

You repeat his words back to him, speaking every one with such truth. In the middle of your speech, he lifts your hand to his lips. Finishing your vows, you are both sliding your respective rings onto each other's fingers with tears rolling down your cheeks. 

“And by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you as Mr and Mrs. Kiszka.” 

“Fucking finally!” Your husband laughs. 

Wrapping an arm around your waist and the other cradling your face, he bends you backwards. He stares at you for a moment before swooping in to press his pretty pink lips to yours for the first time in what felt like forever. His brothers cheered behind him as everyone else clapped. Bringing you back up to stand straight, you curl your hands into his tux. 

“I fucking love you, angel.” 

“I love you so much, Joshua.” 

Walking hand in hand down the aisle with the biggest grins imaginable was a sight to behold. Josh finally obtained his angel. You were his for the rest of your lives just as he was yours. Husband and wife. 

“My angel.”

[coffeeheartaddict2]

Mornings After

Book: Open Heart (multiple points)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC Casey Valentine(Ramsey)

Warnings: mentions of previous sexual activity, pregnant loss

Category: angsty fluff

Rating: PG

Word Count: 963

Summary: Ethan pov of some of the key points in their relationship.

Disclaimer: characters belong to Pixelberry

Authors note: Submission for @choicesmonthlychallenge . Prompt used is Sunshine shining through the window. This will appear in bold.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Intern year- morning after the country club.

Ethan awoke with his head thumping, a reminder that despite his tolerance, he is no longer in his 20’s. He squints as the curtain is still open, sunshine shining through the window. Normally he shuts it but he looks down and sees Casey. Flashbacks of the night before, the request to see the view, putting her against the window as he worshiped at the altar of her sex before making love to her, like he had many times before in his dreams. He did not regret, after all he was no longer her boss but he could not help but feel that his relationship would hinder her in the Ethics trial. She looked peaceful, unburdened. He kissed the top of her head before going back to sleep, hopeful that the night before was not the only time.

Intern year- morning after the Ethics hearing.

Against his better judgment he stayed at Casey’s. The sun was starting to shine through the clouds into her window. He knew the decision that he came to about Brazil was going to hurt her but he needed to push her and he could not do so whilst romantically involved, also there was no word of the competition ending so he had to be a coward and run. Casey starts to stir, he wants to have sex with her one last time, but she says she needs to sneak him out before her housemates awaken. He kisses her, for what he thinks is the last time, cataloguing the feel of her mouth and the small noises she makes.

Second year: The day of the funeral.

He wakes with a start. The nightmare that he had been having since the attack. He sits there regaining his composure before getting up and getting his coffee. He watched the sun try and peak through the clouds. He was relieved that Casey would be released today. His mind drifts to the words he wants to say to Casey. “I love you.” A phrase so small yet such a big step. All he knows is that she is alive and that he can say them. He had spoken to her since the attack but it was while she was in hospital and it did not seem right. He hoped to tell her soon but also wanted the moment to be right.

Morning after the funeral.

She is alive but he can tell the mental anguish. At least there is some clarity in the relationship. He is done denying. Yes, keeping things professional at work but the reset is over. He knows the road will not be smooth but he knows she is worth the risk.

The morning after the hospital closes.

He sleeps in. The sun has been up for ages and it is a bright day, certainly not reflecting his mood. All he knows is that he needs to have an important discussion with Casey about them. Already he had screwed things up but with a resolve to tell her how he feels truly, he is confident that will help her be clear where he stands. His phone goes off, it is Casey wanting to meet. Old habits die hard and they agree to meet at Derry’s. He goes there to tell her how he feels and he has no idea of the surprise waiting for him.

The morning after telling Casey he loves her.

Finally he has done it. Admitted to Casey how he truly feels and she feels the same. It is surreal. Casey is the first woman he has truly loved and despite the resets, stubbornness and his fears she has stayed and given chances but also patience. He looks at the woman beside him in bed, the sunlight showing her complete and utterly contempt. He smiles like the lovestruck fool he is. For the first time ever he is optimistic about the future and importantly a future with her. He had the thought last night and has it again now, end of residency he will ask her to marry him. He kisses her on the top of her head and goes to make their coffee.

Morning after board results party.

She said yes. Ethan could not be happier if he tried. He had planned on asking her next week, the official end to her residency but he asked last night. This was certainly something he had never seen for himself but he is happy. The sun is bright this morning, matching his mood.

Morning of surgery for missed miscarriage.

It is a cloudy dawn, reflecting the mood in the Ramsey residence. What should have been a happy time was dealt the cruelest of blows yesterday, finding out that they lost the baby. He believed that children was never in the cards but then he met Casey and fell in love with her and he found himself wanting it all. He was confident that they would through their individual and combined grief but he knew it would be hard.

January 2025.

The last sunrise he was seeing at this apartment was bittersweet. Despite barely being in this apartment when he bought it, it had become home but Casey wanted to feel like that their home together was theirs, somewhere where they could be a family. They have bought a bigger apartment in the Seaport district. When they put the offer in, neither expected Casey to be pregnant. He was elated to finally be a father and moving into a more family friendly apartment before the arrival seemed right. He looked over to the bed, the last time he would see her asleep in this bedroom and he smiled. He could now not imagine his life without her and like the Dawn, their future was bright.

Authors note: there are so many other thoughts occurring at Dawn that I could have added but decided on what I wrote. Thank you for reading this far.

Tagging: @jerzwriter @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @cariantha @tessa-liam @a-crepusculo @bex-la-get @crazy-loca-blog @lucy-268 @binny1985 @schnitzelbutterfingers @potionsprefect @liaromancewriter

@choicesmonthlychallenge @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[fueledpurelybyspite]

A Useless gift

Summary:

‘We have a useless gift, you and I’

His body stops before his brain really even registers her words, halting mid-step with a hand raised towards the heavy handles.

He turns, slowly. ‘What?’

He watches her mouth open, then close. Trembling lips sealed tight against her pain, the vulnerability of it.

He tries to make it easier for her, he always does. Crossing the aisle in a few large strides and sitting on the step below her like a devotee.

Xavier doesn’t dare to speak; he doesn’t dare to breathe. Her words come slow and careful, like she’s afraid they’re going to shatter in her mouth, sink in her cheeks, cut out her tongue. ‘All those visions, all that research, all that pain to try to control this…this…’ She struggles to say gift, she wants to say curse, she ends up saying nothing at all.

He watches her swallow, hard. Wednesday hesitates only a few moments, composing herself. Then ‘What was it all for, if those who we care for, who care for us still end up six feet under?’

Or:

The beginning of the new semester begins with the late headmistress funeral. Overcome with grief, Wednesday struggles to accept her powers and the weight of her actions

Enjoy!!

Weems's funeral is a small affair.

Nevermore’s by no means a big school. Between those who never quite discover their capabilities, those who decide to ignore them in favor of living among the normies, and the unfortunate ones who get hunted down and killed, it’s not many that actually manage to arrive at the small safe haven for outcasts.

Still, Xavier thinks they make up a pretty decent crowd. All of them standing like soldiers in their purple uniforms. Some keep their faces downturned in grief, others simply in discomfort against the midday sun, glaring vindictive and stubborn in spite of the impending Fall.

Summer decays in the air, it leaves a corpse made of heat and beaded sweat, of the uncomfortable pull of the tie against his neck.

Still, they all endure.

All except for one.

Wednesday’s wearing her favorite mourning dress, the delicate fabric fit for the warm weather, all soft skirts blowing in the gentle September breeze and lace neckline brushing against moonlight-pale collarbones. Her hair is styled away from her face in two Dutch braids so tight they must hurt, purple lace ribbons braided in each of them, the exact color of a three-day-old bruise.

She’s standing right above the tombstone, looking through the freshly dug earth as if she could will the casket back to the surface, their headmistress back to life. With her back straight and impeccable posture, she’s more elegant and refined than any of them could hope to be in this situation. Her own way of paying respect, he supposes.

It’s the first time he’s seen her since they parted ways last semester, and it feels inappropriate and cruel to find her beautiful even now, void-eyed and godless, clutching her parasol with fingers picked raw.

Loss and grief loom over them like vultures, the dead wait for them under their own feet. The choir of the cicadas, the few who dare to keep singing after the death of summer, fades into the background as the priest’s sermon comes to an end.

Xavier doesn’t think he imagines his eyes narrowing and his tone growing colder as he recites:’ But if there is harm, then you shall pay life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn’

*

It’s always cold inside the chapel.

A relief, a welcome change from the dying summer that’s waiting for him outside these walls.

Xavier wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, sleeves pushed messily past his elbows as he looks around the pews.

He finds Wednesday perched on the last step before the altar, dainty ankles crossed next to her now-closed parasol and bleeding fingers in her lap, looking like a lamb ready for slaughter and the executioner all at the same time.

His mouth opens without his permission, spitting whatever nonsense he can think of to try and lighten up the mood.

‘A bit nostalgic, isn’t it?’

An unsure smile spreads across his face as he approaches. If she hears him, she doesn’t bother with an answer.

He clears his throat, then tries again. ‘You haven’t answered any of my texts during the break'

Her empty gaze remains fixed on the painted droplets of blood carved at the bottom of the crucifix. The evening light shining through the stained-glass windows encloses her in a fiery hue, and if he didn’t know her face like the back of his own hand, if he hadn’t spent countless hours trying to replicate it on canvas, he thinks he would have mistaken her for a statue of a martyr, another crying Madonna in a god-forsaken small-town church.

And just like a statue, she remains silent.

Xavier looks around, finding himself at a loss. He feels helpless and defeated. Not knowing what to do, he turns back towards the wooden doors with a frustrated sigh.

‘We have a useless gift, you and I’

His body stops before his brain really even registers her words, halting mid-step with a hand raised towards the heavy handles.

He turns, slowly. ‘What?’

He watches her mouth open, then close. Trembling lips sealed tight against her pain, the vulnerability of it.

He tries to make it easier for her, he always does. Crossing the aisle in a few large strides and sitting on the step below her like a devotee.

Xavier doesn’t dare to speak; he doesn’t dare to breathe. Her words come slow and careful, like she’s afraid they’re going to shatter in her mouth, sink in her cheeks, cut out her tongue. ‘All those visions, all that research, all that pain to try to control this…this…’ She struggles to say gift, she wants to say curse, she ends up saying nothing at all.

He watches her swallow, hard. Wednesday hesitates only a few moments, composing herself. Then ‘What was it all for, if those who we care for, who care for us still end up six feet under?’

The confession of her doubt hurts too much, she plants her nails at the tip of her fingers, where the nailbed meets skin that’s soft and fragile, and drags.

Xavier, in a move he wouldn’t have the courage to make under any other circumstances, dares to take one of her hands between his own, grateful for having pulled up his sleeves as crimson droplets start falling over his palms, his wrists, and takes a moment to just look at her. Really look at her.

The memory of the little girl he met as a child overlaps with the girl who’s been torturing him for months now. Same wide, vacant eyes and blank expression, cracked by the burning loss they’ve all been subjected to. The butterflies in his stomach, all the pain and anger from last semester, his own fingers around the pencils, it’s all hers now. He’s not yet a man and already he’s possessed, inhabited by a girl who’s more nightmare than flesh.

She feels like the dark corners in his childhood rooms, like the dried flowers his mother liked to place in her books, the thrill of disobedience, the trembling breath after taken after weeping. A horrifying kind of relief.

He contemplates for a wild, monstrous moment what it would be like to lose her. To have to watch her lying in a coffin rimmed with black lace, to curl around her lifeless form like he’d done with his godmother, to burn with her one last time. The prettiest girl in the morgue.

Xavier shakes his head, willing that image out of his mind as he tightens his grip around her fingers.

‘It’s not useless’ her gaze bores into him with frightening intensity, he prays to a god he doesn’t believe in that she doesn’t notice the red rim around his eyes ‘Not the visions, not the pain, none of it’ His voice is booming and too loud in the ever-quiet church, he can’t help it, he needs her to understand. ‘It wasn’t useless when I saved you from Rowan, it wasn’t useless when you saved Eugene-‘

‘The Hyde almost killed him’ it’s the most emotion he’s ever heard from her, raw and loud and so very devoid of her usual control.

‘But it didn’t. And he would have bled out if it weren’t for you. For your visions’

Xavier hasn’t even realized he’s holding her hand against his heart until he feels her knuckles brush against his chest, heavy pants leaving him feeling hollower than ever.

‘Sometimes things happen that are out of our control, but your visions aren’t useless, nor are you’ Xavier knows he’s going to regret this. ‘I don’t think I’d like the world as much, without you in it’

He’s counting the seconds as they pass inside his head, sure that any moment now Wednesday is gonna go back to being…well, Wednesday. Rip her hand from his and slap him with it, smearing her blood all over his cheek, maybe push him down the steps and watch his skull crack open, drag him up the altar and sacrifice him as an offering.

But Wednesday leaves her hand right where it is, lets her bloodied fingers smear the fabric over his heart as her inquisitive eyes keep looking into his, for what he might never know.

Finally, a huff leaves her lips, and with it all the tension in her spine. ‘You probably would have found an idiotic way to annihilate yourself by now if it weren’t for my assistance’

His laugh is a traitorous thing, it takes him by surprise so much he can’t help the ugly snort that precedes it.

But his joy is short-lived. A shadow takes over her face once more, different this time. There’s no anguish, just a sort of quiet resignation.

‘Maybe this was the price all along.’ Says Wednesday with a glance behind them at the large pipes of the organ. ‘I saved you from the flames so many years ago, and in turn, they caught up with us. Fire will rain, burn for burn’

Xavier doesn’t wanna believe it, and he’s not sure what compels him to ask questions he’s not sure he wants the answer to.

‘Was it a fair trade?’

And it’s so selfish, to compare his life to the tragedy that was last year. The hikers, the policemen, The mayor- a boy left fatherless, Rowan, Mrs Weems. So much death and heartbreak compared to a boy who wouldn’t have been missed by anyone at all.

Wednesday takes a breath, doesn’t answer. She died too, last year. Even if she was healed, even if Goodie brought her back, it doesn’t erase the memory of bleeding out in a crypt, chained and forgotten.

She shakes her head softly at him, long braids swaying softly at her sides. Instead of answering, she echoes his words. ‘I don’t think I’d like the world as much without you in it, either’

And before he has a chance to process any of it, she stands up in a fluid, graceful motion, with enough strength behind it to drag him up with her.

Wednesday lets go of his hand and descends the steps quickly, leaving him vaguely disoriented and the tiniest bit disappointed their moment ended so abruptly.

Then, when she’s already halfway across the aisle, she turns back to him. Her brow arched high and a playful glint in her eyes, mouth twisted in the meanest smile he’s ever seen.

‘Xavier, want to play hide and seek?’

[tuiyla]

Ranking Once More, With Feeling songs

Eyyyy let’s go. Separating songs that were part of a medley, for the most part. Going out to @rachelberryy​​!

Not part of the ranking:

The Mustard: wouldn’t feel fair or necessary to include it in the list. Still, as well executed as the rest of them and a fun La La Land feel wayyyy before La La Land actually happened.

Bunnies: I find Anya to be ridiculously delightful, including the bunny running gag and this was a shocking but funny and appreciated interruption in the middle of I’ve Got a Theory. The rock opera was a fun genre to bring in and yeah, Anya’s just cool.

The Parking Ticket: again not necessary to include in the actual ranking but a fun background (foreground) moment. Man it really reminded me that basically all of these songs have a CXG “equivalent”.

Dawn’s Ballet: fully instrumental so excluded for that reason. But eyyy, Zach Woodlee! Even if we don’t see his face. Again proving that playing around with genres and committing fully to the musical episode is fun.

14. Dawn’s Lament

Despite technically ranking last I actually really like this short song. The fact that it’s so short is the only reason it’s so low but even in just two lines of lyrics I think it sums up Dawn’s angst and, well, lament really well and makes me wish she got a full feature. It’s my understanding that Michelle Trachtenberg asked not to sing too much so that’s understandable. But yeah, I think it’s good that she had this much, especially because, as I understand, despite Dawn’s behaviour being understandable she gets a lot of shit from the fandom.

13. What You Feel (+reprise)

Nothing against Hinton Battle who of course does an amazing job but the real strength of this episode is revelations about our beloved characters, not the monster of the week song. Not that this number isn’t as fun as the rest of the episode but it simply can’t compare to main cast’s solos, duets, and group numbers. The reprise shouting out the episode title is extra fun, though.

Best part: ironically in many ways, Dawn’s parts. Particularly “see, my sister’s the Slayer”

12. Something to Sing About

I feel like a lot would consider ranking this so low criminal. And in a way I do wish it could be higher but musically, I just don’t much vibe with it. I understand and appreciate the sentiment behind it, it’s a powerful scene and includes the big revelation about Buffy having been in heaven. The backup bit is amusing and Alyson Hannigan acts her butt off in the background as the reveal is going on but I simply can’t put it higher when I know this won’t be the song I listen to the most. I much, much prefer Buffy’s other solo. It’s also just, a bit long oops.

Best part: Musically, the beginning, but thematically probably Spike’s ending verse.

11. Where Do We Go From Here

I’m not sure how to justify ranking this above the previous one. I guess I’m just a sucker for group numbers and I think it has the appropriate balance of drama and levity. It feels a bit funky that Sweet leaves and yet they sing this afterward but whatever.

Best part: Giles’ solo line: The battle's done and we kind of won

10. Coda

As you’ll see further down this list I love a good reprise and this mash-up of Buffy and Spike songs only to culminate in the first step towards their relationship, it’s really chef’s kiss. Very very brief and closes by going back to the previous song but still, a good coda.

9. I’ll Never Tell

This is pure fun for Anya and Xander and a great performance. Harsher in hindsight, now that I’ve seen Xander leave Anya at the altar. But I keep being a sucker for Anya shenanigans in particular and this was very fun as that. I don’t care for all the lines but I appreciate all the effort that went into this number in particular.

Best part: His eyes are beady!

8. If We’re Together

It’s heartfelt and maybe a bit cheesy but hey, I love cheese and the power of love, found family and all that. It fits BtVS to have something like this, it simultaneously makes fun of the show and also emphasizes that yeah, this is the strength of the Scoobies. I also enjoy the double meaning behind Buffy’s what does it matter lines. We support our girl in her depression era.

Best part: Hey, I’ve died twice

7. I’ve Got a Theory

This is just that quintessential first group number with the lighter tone and everyone involved. It feels different enough to separate from If We’re Together and slightly ranking above it for the fun factor, including Xander’s ramble about witches. Points for being the song with the most Willow in it

Best part: Honestly, Xander’s ramble.

6. Under Your Spell

I kinda wish I could rank this higher. And it is good! It begins a new tier on our list and there’s much to appreciate. Amber Benson’s voice (even though I would prefer more chest voice but shhh okay okay) and the fairy tale vibes, and just the fact that the big love song went to the lesbian couple. The sentiment is lovely even with the darker undertone of Willow’s literal spell from the previous episode, but more on that in a bit. It feels apt to give Tara, usually a quiet and reserved ch a solo in the musical episode to express her feelings fully. I’m in awe that this was on television in 2001 and was quite shocked that they went there at the end lol. What do you know, they sure had the cojones and I appreciate that.

Best part: as cheesy as it is, the willow tree line

5. Rest in Peace

I debated putting this below Under Your Spell but I gotta appreciate the rock vibes, the angst, and the sheer over the top poetry of it. It’s really the perfect song for Spike and as much as I think the metaphors and puns are over the top, again it just fits him. Plus, I have to admit, it’s just more fun to listen to than Tara’s solo (still with love to her of course). God Spike would make such a dramatic lesbian.

Best part: If my heart could beat it would break my chest

4. Standing

Anthony Stewart Head really went for it and this song was perfect for both his voice and Giles’ character. I do think the sentiment felt a bit, hmm, off, but that’s a convo for another day. Giles’ fatherly love for Buffy is the very DNA of this series and him realizing that he has to let Buffy go, just after getting her back, hits all the right emotional places. If we had to let go of ASH, as a main cast member at least, this was as good a sendoff as we could get. Also curious that this is the only song that seems to be in just once of the characters’ head? Whatever, it’s musical logic.

Best part: the way he delivers Wish I could slay your demons

3. Under Your Spell/Standing Reprise

Ohh okay, so yeah I love an apt reprise and this mashup was incredibly powerful. Under Your Spell gains its darker meaning as Tara realizes what the audience had known and to parallel her sense of betrayal and, though it will take her another episode to truly admit, realization with Giles’ is so cool. To parallel a young woman’s queer love for her girlfriend with a middle aged man’s for his daughter figure. For both to realize, albeit for vastly different reasons, that they can’t be the ones helping their loved ones anymore. For Giles, it’s to help Buffy grow. For Tara, it’s the realization that she can’t, even inadvertently, continue enabling Willow. It’s such a cool thematic concept and executed beautifully musically, and cinematically as we see the shot of Buffy and Willow talking, ignorant the difficult decisions their loved ones are making. Well done, show.

Best part: Wish I could stay (but they can’t. and doesn’t that just break your heart?)

2. Walk Through the Fire

Here we go, the best group number of the bunch even though the other ones all have their strengths. It combines so many excellent parts. Buffy’s depression, even Going Through the Motions making a brief return. The Scoobies’ realization that yeah, they should help. Spike’s own realization that he’ll always come back to Buffy’s aid. The ‘villain’ parts. ASH once again delivering his solo bits very well, particularly the Dawn line. Beady-eyes is right, we’re needed! It combines funny and deep and heartfelt and really, that sums up the show well. Plus yeah, the small reprises.

Best part: I think this line's mostly filler. Pls, that’s too funny.

1. Going Through the Motions

Okay listen at first I was like, can I? Can I actually rank this first? But why not. What an excellent song to start us off with. A few minutes into the episode and this already had me so hyped. The composition, the flow, how fun the demons are in this, Buffy’s attitude, SMG’s voice to be honest. The fact that this is her I want song! The very first song! This is just such a fun and yet meaningful song. It’s funny how SMG turns inexplicably British in it (heaRt has an R, surely) but I don’t care, she does a great job and this song really embodies my love for season 6 Buffy. So good!

Best part: How can I repay...? Whatever. This was SO funny. The rhymes throughout the episode can be a little too simple but when they work they just work.

So that would be the list, hope I didn’t shock and upset anybody. I knew going into this that people heralded Buffy’s musical episode as not only an OG but one of the, if not the ultimate best and you know what, yeah. And if anything it really proved to me that jukebox musicals are not where it’s at - if you’re gonna do a musical, put your whole pussy into it. Write those original songs! Make them relate to the characters and reveal interesting things about them. That’s the whole point and it’s why, though the villain song was fun, others were far superior. Not that I didn’t love this series before but Once More, With Feeling well and truly cemented my love for BtVS.

[alj4890]

Sparks of Hope

(Thomas Hunt x OC) in a Choices Red Carpet Diaries Drabble

Thirty Kisses in Thirty Days Challenge with the prompt: a kiss shared underneath fireworks

Rating G for fluff

Masterlist

@hopelessromantic1352 @krsnlove @trappedinfanfiction @my-heart-beats-for-ya ​ @aworldoffandoms ​​ @flyawayboo ​​ ​​  @sophxwithers @twinkleallnight @tessa-liam @choicesficwriterscreations @harleybeaumont

A/N Special thanks to @trappedinfanfiction for requesting this couple with this particular prompt. I guess this is a sequel to this drabble a while back 😂 I loved the subterfuge Thomas and Amanda did in pretending to be in a romantic relationship. His family not only bought it, but it ended up being true in the end. For this drabble, the pair have been together for about five months or so and are going (with his pushy yet well intentioned parents, sister, and brother-in-law) to his cousin's wedding.

Hunt Family Home, Stowe, VT

"You're bringing Amanda with you to the wedding, right?" Susan asked.

Thomas rolled his eyes over his mother's need to remind him to bring Amanda with him wherever he went. It was as if she doubted he knew how to act in a relationship.

"Yes. You know she arrives tomorrow to travel with us to Ben's wedding."

"I know that." Susan rolled her eyes. "I only wanted to make certain that you weren't going to send her back home before the ceremony."

He didn't know why his mother was making such a big deal out of seeing his cousin get married, but here he was back in Vermont, instead of his Los Angeles home, and surrounded by his parents, sister, and brother-in-law .

"It would be a missed opportunity." His sister, Rachel, grumbled.

"A missed opportunity?" Thomas snapped, not particularly liking his sister's tone, "for what exactly?"

"Are you serious right now?!" Rachel snapped back. "Tell me you aren't this clueless."

"Rach." Her husband, Stephen, tried to get her to calm down.

"I can't believe you don't see it!" She ignored her husband pulling on her hand.

"See what?" Thomas raised his voice.

Before things got too out of hand, their father stepped between them.

"The wedding," Richard explained before his daughter had a chance to throttle his son, "is an excellent opportunity to bring up the subject of marriage."

"For what purpose?" Thomas demanded. "Ben must be all for matrimony since he's the one getting married."

"Idiot." Rachel smacked the palm of her hand to her head. "The purpose is for you to bring up matrimony to Amanda!"

She sat down in a huff.

"Honestly Mom, are you sure we're related."

"Trust me. I was awake the whole time. There's no denying the relation." Susan teased.

She leveled a disapproving stare upon her son. "Though I do wonder at times where our DNA failed in making you hurry Amanda to the altar before she has a chance to meet someone else."

Thomas had to bite his tongue. First off, he knew he shouldn't be disrespectful to his parent. Secondly, he couldn't very well admit that he'd only been truly dating Amanda for about five months, unlike the lie he gave last Thanksgiving that they'd been dating for a long while.

By his calculations, that meant that his family was still under the assumption that they were nearing their one year anniversary as a couple.

Though he was in love with the lady from Cordonia and could honestly see himself taking that massive step forward in their relationship, he didn't know what Amanda would think of the notion.

Weddings were highly emotional anyway, he argued with himself. Who could trust any decision made under an event practically dripping with romance and sentimentality?

He prided himself on being one of the few to see past the heartfelt vows and such. He'd attended a number of weddings in the past where he'd seen weaker individuals succumb to the moment and end up either engaged themselves or claiming they were madly in love with their dates. Most did not work out once the ceremony concluded.

He wasn't about to chance what he had with Amanda with a suggestion that they give it a try.

The problem he now faced though was keeping his family from suggesting it to her before he did.

******************

Burlington Airport...

"There's that greeting I love." Amanda mumbled against his lips.

Thomas kissed her again before taking her luggage from her. "How was your flight?"

"Good." She looped her arm with his as they made their way out of the airport. "How's your family?"

He rolled his eyes in response.

Amanda began to laugh. "Oh no. What have they done this time?"

"Since they are still in the dark over when our relationship officially began," he grimaced with having to tell her what had been the main topic of conversation ever since he arrived a few days earlier, "they want me to take advantage of the wedding."

"Take advantage to do what exactly?"

He eyed her quietly.

Her eyes widened with realization. "Oh!"

She began to smile at the notion. "That's actually really sweet."

Thomas snorted while opening the passenger door for her. "More like manipulative."

"I think it's sweet. Clearly they see we're happy together." Amanda wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him close for another kiss. "And they like me enough to want me as part of the family."

"They adore you." He deepened the kiss. "Almost as much as I do."

"I've missed hearing you say things like that in person." She sank into another kiss of his. "I love what always follows such declarations."

Thomas smiled against her lips.

"So?" She said a touch breathlessly. "Shall we at least pretend to give the notion of marriage a fair try or should we be upfront and say that you aren't quite there yet?"

"I think we should--" his eyes widened. "What do you mean, I'm not quite there yet?!'

"I don't mean anything other than that. Thomas, you've said yourself that you never saw the need to rush into any institution, especially marriage."

Amanda's brow furrowed over the dark expression forming on his face.

"What? Is something else wrong? Is it something I said?"

She didn't know why he would be upset. The entire world knew he preferred the life of a bachelor. He'd certainly said so in more than enough interviews in the oast to prove his point.

"I..." He trailed off as anger choked him.

Thomas refused to let his first moment reunited with the woman he loved be one where they argued.

He gestured silently for her to get into the car.

"Thomas?" She reached for him when he pulled away from her. "I didn't mean--"

"It's fine." He bit out. "Let's be on our way, shall we?"

Amanda reluctantly got into the car. She didn't know what to do or say when he was in this type of mood.

The two spent the next forty-five minutes in tense silence as they made their way back to his parents' home.

***************

"Perhaps I should say I have an emergency back at home." She mumbled while helping get her bags out of the car. "Then, you won't have any worries over the wedding."

If her visit here was going to be like this, she didn't want to remain stuck in the same room with him, much less the suite he'd booked for them at the wedding venue. It was already killing her to be at odds with him, especially when she didn't understand what she'd done to make him so angry. She'd expected nothing but romance after nearly a month of their schedules conflicting and keeping them apart. Now that seemed as likely to happen as her sprouting wings.

Thomas jerked around in surprise. "I don't want you to go."

Her eyes narrowed. "You certainly don't act like you want me to stay either."

"Of course I do!" He snapped, slamming the trunk closed. "I've missed you, damnit!'

"I missed you too." Amanda fought back a smile over him cursing about it.

Thomas grimaced once more as he realized she was the last person he should be angry with.

It was himself he was furious at. He'd been the one to live his life in such a way that the moment he believed he'd possibly met the one, he'd given her the illusion that marriage was not for him. He didn't know how to rectify this assumption of hers without it appearing as if he was giving in to familial pressure.

"I apologize for my outburst." He tugged her into his arms. "I'm not angry at you."

"I hope not." She slid her arms around his neck. "Because I couldn't wait on seeing you again."

"Neither could I." He hugged her close.

His lips brushed against her ear as he whispered all he'd missed.

She moved closer within his embrace with each spoken attribute of hers he missed. She stopped his list with a heated kiss.

Stephen clearing his throat had them both turning to him with irritated expressions.

He held his hands up. "Sorry to interrupt, but I was sent out here to see what was taking you two so long and to help with the bags."

He quickly swiped up the luggage and led the way in.

Amanda went through all the warm hugs and questions from the family she'd gotten close to that fateful Thanksgiving. Thomas watched the interaction with a slight smile upon his face. His family truly loved her. He knew that if he were to ever feel the need to propose that they would be beyond overjoyed with his choice of wife.

Perhaps one day, they might all get what they wished for.

******************

Lake Placid, New York, three days later...

"How do I look?" Amanda twirled around, checking all sides in the mirror. "Does the dress hang right in the back?"

Thomas stopped her twisting about by placing his hands on her hips. His eyes met hers in the mirror while he took in her figure.

"You look beautiful." He kissed the side of her neck.

"You're just saying that." She sighed as she critically took in her features. "I wanted to look my best tonight since I'm meeting your extended family for the first time."

"You do." He pulled her back within his arms when she huffed in disbelief. "I've always loved you in teal."

"You say that about every color." She teased, slipping her arms around him.

"I happen to love you in every color." Thomas admitted. "But there is something about teal that makes it my favorite on you."

"Really?" She smiled at him. "Then I'll just have to wear it more often."

He kissed her, softly groaning at the knock on their door.

"If that's my sister, she won't survive the rehearsal dinner." He muttered.

Amanda's laughter was smothered by another kiss.

Rachel's voice came loud and clear through the wooden door.

"We're going to be late! Mom and Dad already went downstairs!"

Thomas glared at the door.

His date eased out of his arms and gathered her wrap and clutch. Taking his arm, she tugged him out the door.

Ignoring the smug expression on his sister's face, Thomas followed Amanda towards the elevator.

He began to make plans for how to spend their first night in their suite as they all made their way to the wedding pavilion.

*****************

The night was filled with speeches, good food, and a great many toasts. Ben and his soon to be bride, Bailey, were everything a picture perfect couple should be. They never stopped smiling and they stole kisses every chance they got.

Guests soon took to the outdoor patio to dance and mingle.

"It's beautiful out here." Amanda leaned back in Thomas's arms to look up at the night sky. Stars twinkled above and shimmered on the lake's surface.

"Yes, it is."

He rested his chin on her shoulder while watching his family members. Everyone was distracted with either discussions or as in his parents' case, slow dancing. Though now was the perfect chance to slip back upstairs, he knew his family would never let him live it down.

"Would you like to dance?" He instead asked.

"I'd love to."

Thomas set his hand low on her back while taking her hand in his. He pressed her close while leading her in a slow box step.

The entire party stilled with the first firework shooting out over the lake.

Oohs and Ahhs followed with every burst of colorful light.

Heart shaped sparklers were passed around in honor of the bride and groom.

"How sweet." Amanda said to Thomas after Ben claimed that Bailey was his spark in life.

Thomas thought it was a corny line, yet kept that opinion to himself. He instead focused on Amanda's face lit up from the lights of the fireworks.

He tipped her chin up and pressed a tender kiss to her lips.

"Speaking of sparks," she teased him, kissing him once more, "I'm very happy you invited me to this, Mr. Hunt."

His lips curved. "I'm very happy you accepted, Lady Bridgerton."

She rested her head on his shoulder as the fireworks continued.

Thomas couldn't help but notice how right everything was at this moment. His family was distracted. He'd just shared a kiss with the woman he loved. The setting couldn't be more perfect to at least hint at what he hoped might happen soon.

"Amanda?" He murmured near her ear.

"Yes?" She looked up at him.

"I love you." He tugged her back from the crowd.

"I love you too." She bumped into him when he stopped in the shadows.

He cupped her face to kiss her passionately.

Amanda gripped his dinner jacket to remain upright.

Her eyelashes fluttered as she looked up at him.

Thomas swallowed and then spoke from his heart.

"I want this one day."

"Want what?" She asked a touch breathlessly.

"I want our loved ones around us, celebrating the fact that we are about to be married." He admitted.

"Thomas." She couldn't quite believe he said something like that.

Not one family member was near enough to hear what he was saying, so she knew it wasn't an act on his part. The flashes of colored light from the fireworks revealed his somber expression along with the vulnerability reflected in the dark depths of his eyes.

Knowing she wanted nothing more than that with him, Amanda rose up to kiss Thomas once more.

He clutched her to him, wishing she would say something to keep that spark of hope alive.

She smiled against his lips as their kiss came to an end.

"I want all that with you, Thomas." She told him. "And I can't wait until that day comes."

[jellydishes]

It wasn't much longer afterwards until their climb ever upwards ended at a stone altar, one placed at the edge of a cliff over a yawning drop. "There are words," Merrill said upon looking at it, gently lifting the wooden amulet they had received what felt like years, lifetimes ago from Carver's hands when he offered it to her. "A moment."

Bethany and the others gathered close behind her in a ragged semicircle and watched as Merrill placed the amulet upon the altar's uneven surface before placing her hand perhaps a foot over top of it. "Hahren na melana sahlin," she said in a clear, rising voice, drifting that hand from side to side and turning it in precise ways. "Emma ir abelas souver'inan isala hamin vhenan him dor'felas. In uthenara na revas."

Bethany had been listening from her place at the back of their little group. Her blood had already been thrumming with tension at hearing the language of her father again, but then the sky erupted with a blinding golden light that sent everyone but Merrill staggering backwards. Merrill simply stood with her arms spread wide as Bethany lifted her staff and shouted questions into the suddenly roaring winds. Even she wasn't sure what her words had been, and it didn't matter. Not when that light began to shrink and move and condense into two familiar wing-like shapes curved about each other, before they began to lower towards the cliff.

"Fuck," Bethany breathed as the light flared, and then there before her stepped a familiar person whose white hair had been partially twisted into horned shapes, wearing studded red leather and a growing smile. "Oh, fuck."

"Ah, and here we are," said Flemmeth, the witch of the wilds, now standing tall and proud before her once again.

Bethany started to turn partway away, then back. Her mouth dropped open, and Bethany could only stutter for several seconds. She pressed a hand to her mouth and shuddered at the unexpected and very visceral reminder of that day outside Lothering, and of Marian. Bethany could feel Flemmeth's eyes on her as she groaned and hugged herself, nausea and dread roaring up her throat. She thought she could smell flowers as she struggled to get it under control, and that reminder of her father's death too, was too much. Far, far too much. "How are you here?" She managed to grit out between her teeth as Merrill bent on one knee and said something in a string of a language Bethany no longer understood, if she ever had.

Another lurch in her chest.

"One of the People, I see," Flemmeth was saying. "So very young and bright. Do you know who I am, beyond that title?"

Merrill did not look up. "I know only a little."

"Then stand. The people bend their knee too quickly." Flemmeth then looked up at the rest of them for the first time, or at least her and Carver, who had come up behind her to lightly grip her arm. This time, she didn't protest. "So refreshing to see someone who keeps their end of a bargain. I half expected to see my amulet end up in a merchant's pocket."

Bethany's smile ached. "No one wanted to buy it," she said on automatic. "Maybe because it has a witch inside?"

Flemmeth raised snowy brows. "Just a piece! A small piece. But it was all I needed. A bit of security, should the inevitable occur. And if I know my Morrigan, it already has."

Bethany frowned. That name struck something of a bell, but there were more important matters at hand.

"Why did you need us to bring you here?" Carver asked when she only shook her head. "You fly. Obviously. Why not just do that instead of waiting on the words of a few random refugees you picked up in the backwater of an even more backwater country?"

"Because I have an appointment to keep! And because I did not want to be followed. You snuggled me here quite nicely."

Bethany's frown deepened, even as behind them she heard Alistair and Varric begin to whisper something amongst themselves that included the words, "Oh, they know the lizard."

"Dragon! Great big whacking thing with wings and an attitude and, uh. Decorative choices."

"Believe me, I met an archdemon. I know the difference."

She turned her eyes away from their direction and looked back just as Carver was saying, "-have told us what we would face. Warned us about the undead and- And Kirkwall's everything."

"Did I trick you?" Flemmeth asked. "I asked you to bring the amulet, and you did. If I thought it such an easy task, I might have asked anyone. But you have succeeded where others would not."

"You have plans, I take it?" Bethany hurried to ask while Carver looked torn between several very different expressions.

Flemmeth looked back at her with a smoke that was difficult to parse. "Destiny awaits us both, dear child. We have much to do. But before I go, a word of advice. We stand upon the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment… and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap. It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly."

"Cheap advice, from a dragon," Varric drawled from Merrill's other side, followed by a quiet, "Ow, that was my foot."

"We all have our challenges," was Flemmeth's only answer.

Bethany shifted uncomfortably, and slid her eyes to Carver and the others and then back to Carver. "We're going to regret bringing her here," she said. Too many things going wrong in too many ways could hinge on this moment. There was the threatening specter of guilt at yet another mistake looming large in her future, accompanied by the cold, sinking feeling of shame that curdled low in her belly.

The witch clicked their tongue at Bethany, but then they looked to Carver, as well. "Regret is something I know well. Take care not to cling to it, to hold it so close that it poisons your soul. When the time comes for your regrets, remember me."

Bethany stiffened, but Flemmeth had already turned their gaze to Merrill. "As for you, child, step carefully. No path is darker than when your eyes are shut."

Merrill merely bowed her head, stretching one arm out in a gesture Bethany didn't understand. "Ma seranas, Asha'bellanar."

Flemmeth was already turned away, facing the edges of the cliff with their head lifted towards the wind. "Now the time has come for me to leave. You have my thanks. And my sympathy." Without another word, the witch dissolved into light so bright it hurt to look at, but Bethany didn't turn away. She kept staring even as her eyes burned with tears until they started to pour down her cheeks.

"Bethany? Sunshine? Are you all right?" Asked someone some time later, and Bethany gave a jerk when she realized that her mind must have wandered somewhere else.

"Bethy? Da'vhenan?"

Bethany looked back. Her cheeks were still wet, and she lifted a hand to impatiently scrub at them. "You know how it is," she joked weakly, not quite looking at her conversational partner. "Look at someone too bright and it's hard to do anything else."

There was a moment of silence, then a short laugh and a hand patted her on the arm, low enough that it had to be- Oh. It was Varric. Of course it was. "Let's get this done," she said, moving past him.

[rapturemctro]

Rating: General Audience Pairing: William Barnum x Specter x Mayor Damien Warnings: Canon x Self Insert, Tooth rotting fluff, a smidge of angst Word Count: 2209 Summary: It’s the big day, the happiest moments of their lives! This is still one of my favorites <3

The silence was deafening, as pools of blue stared blankly at the unfamiliar woman before her. How strange it was to gaze upon your own reflection, but even then there was someone looking back you recognized. However that was not the case for Kaylina, she was used to dressing formally. Her appearance holding a professional, commanding confidence to it, she however was not used to her appearance holding elegance, making her appear gentle and almost otherworldly. The beautiful, billowing wedding dress felt foreign on the young Psychologist, the lace and satins hugged her frame in a way she wasn’t used to. Had she always had these curves? This was her special day, and if it hadn’t been for the compromise she made with her fiancés, the whole ceremony would be a much more casual setting so she could be in the comfort of her button ups and ties.

Seeing as how the spectacle was being kept on the down low, it seemed only fair to abide by Damien’s wishes. If he wasn’t able to have his grand over the top wedding where he could invite friends and family alike, the least Kaylina could do was wear a dress and take the form of an elegant, ethereal being for the time being. Anything for her soon to be husbands. The thought bringing a smile to her distant expression, how after today they would be bound together in holy matrimony and no one could ever invalidate their relationship ever again. They would be a Family.

“Don’t you look positively radiant” a sudden voice echoed through the stillness, if the young psychologist wasn’t already well adjusted to the booming baritone she would have more than likely jumped out of her skin at the disturbance. Bright eyes slid towards the doorway, the smile replaced with a quirked eyebrow, a blank thoughtful look taking up its place. Having stepped through the doorway were none other then her soon to be husbands.

William and Damien dressed to the nines and looking absolutely ravishing. William’s usual Safari attire had been replaced with a nice tux for the big day, even though his slacks and most of the ensemble were black he insisted on wearing a light pink blazer to offset the darker shades. His usually shaggy hair combed back nicely, and his glasses set on the bridge of his nose. William held a beaming grin, eyes traveling over every inch of the bride. “My darling Kaylina, I don’t think I’ve seen a more beautiful bride” he mused taking a step towards her, arms outstretched. “And you won’t get to see one again if you don’t turn yourself around and march on back to the altar, don’t you know it’s bad luck to see a bride in her gown before the ceremony!”

“I tried to tell him” Damien’s voice piped up, and it was only now that Kaylina noted his take on the situation. Unlike William who had no problems with breaking all known rules, Damien was huddled close to the door, hand raised over his eyes in an attempt to shield the psychologist from his view. The mayor looked as he did every other day, dressed comfortably in a black tux, hair smoothed back, freehand lightly holding onto the end of his cane. Even if he looked as he did everyday, that didn’t make him any less handsome, the slight quirks of a smile could be seen peeking out from behind his hand.

“Oh pish posh you two, absolute poppycock if you ask me. Why it’s preposterous to believe in those old wive’s tales” William remarked, a hearty chuckle following his statement, only receiving a cold stare from the bride to be, “Well then, if one of us ends up dead or we end up divorced then we’ll know who to blame” the chill to those words had William stop in his tracks, a baffled look crossing his features. Absolutely dumbfounded by Kaylina’s words, after a moment or two of silence light fits of giggles arose from the psychologist, stepping forward to plant a gentle kiss of her fiancé’s cheek, “I’m just messing with you my love” she cooed, gently cradling his face in her hands, “It would take some otherworldly phenomenon to separate the three of us”

A hum of agreement rumbled from William’s chest placing a sweet kiss on the palm of Kaylina’s hand, gently cradling her hand in his larger one. “It would take the work of the devil himself to separate me from you” he murmured against her hand. A content sigh escaped the woman’s lips, as she pulled her hand away, “Go, before you get us all in trouble” a groan resonated from William as he rolled his eyes, placing one last tender kiss on his fiancé’s knuckles before retreating from the room. Blue eyes slowly made their way towards the other figure who had silently edged his way into the room, still casting his gaze to the far end of the expanses, respecting his fiancés wishes. “Are you nervous?” Damien’s voice sounded meek for once, and his usual suave confidence was gone, hands trembling as they gripped at the end of his cane.

“Are you?”

He paused, brows furrowing slightly as if assessing his own feelings at the moment, “I’m excited, I don’t think I’ve been this excited since... since we won the election” He chuckled, rigid posture slowly starting to relax as he spoke, Kaylina felt herself drawn to him, gently placing her hands on top of his, a smile holding her features. “Then why are your hands trembling?”

“Because I’m about to marry the love of my life, and she’s absolutely breathtaking” his gaze finally turned to look her in the eyes, she could feel the absolute love and adoration spilling from his gaze. Fingers entwined together, as he gently lifted her hand to his lips placing chaste kisses against her knuckles. “You’ve been so distant today, are you sure you’re not nervous?” His voice was soft, laced with concern. Even when he spoke softly his voice was so clear and so professional. “What do I have to be nervous about? Like you said, I’m about to get married and share the rest of my life with two amazing men. I couldn’t be happier” she mused. “Now if you don’t take your handsome ass down to that alter, there won’t be a wedding to be had” eloping was still an option at this point, and she wasn’t above suggesting such a scandalous alternative. Damien’s smile only grew into a beaming grin, “Fine, if I must depart... I will see you shortly” he placed a swift kiss on her cheek before turning on his heels and sauntered out of the room leaving Kaylina with a warm fluttering feeling in her heart, and a twitterpated smile holding to her face.

—

The distant organ’s keys echoed through the church as Kaylina slowly made her way down the aisle, blue eyes locked on the two figures standing waiting at the end of this trip, her hands held tightly to the bouquet of light pink and blue roses. Besides the haunting melody that seemed to drown out all other sounds, the room was silent. Among the audience were only a small handful of trusted friends and whatever family that approved of the Union. As she finally made her way to the altar, her gaze shifted between William and Damien, noticing their distant gaze. Following their line of sight she noticed the way their eyes held tightly to a pair of seats, empty. Mark and Celine. She felt her heart drop for her beloveds, there was no guarantee that the couple would even show.

Their last conversation as friends hadn’t ended so well, from the limited information she had been given the quartet of friends had gotten into an argument. Something stupid, and it slowly brought up deeper seeded issues, jealousy and concerns that had been buried deep down to keep face, to try and protect each other, tensions had finally boiled over and it seems as if everyone was done with playing make believe. Damien was heartbroken, left trying to pick up the pieces and set things right. However that was easier said than done when your childhood friend and twin sister refused to speak to you. In a last attempt to extend the olive branch, it was Damien who sent the invites to their wedding.

The trio’s attention was drawn away from the disappointing reality when they heard the pastor clears his throat, before raising his hands to address the audience, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of these three lovely beings; William Barnum, Kaylina Morton, and Damien Gaumond in marriage. Today you enter as individuals, but you will leave here as a family, blending your lives, expanding your family ties, and embarking upon the grandest adventure of human interaction. The story of your life together is still yours to write. All those present have come to witness and celebrate your love and commitment this day- eager to be a part of a story not yet told”

The pastor continued on with his speech, Kaylina could feel Damien gently squeeze her hand, her thumb trailing over his knuckles, she could tell from the distant look in his eyes he was disappointed. Disappointed that his sister wasn’t here, wasn’t present for the happiest day of his life. She gave his hand a light squeeze in return, a silent reassurance. “Let us continue on to the vows, Do you Damien Gaumond, take Kaylina Morton to be your lawfully wedded wife, promising to love and cherish, through joy and sorrow, sickness and health, and whatever challenges you may face, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do”

“Do you Kaylina Morton, take Damien Gaumond to be your lawfully wedded husband, promising to love and cherish, through joy and sorrow, sickness and health, and whatever challenges you may face, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do”

After the responses followed justly, the Pastor turned towards William, as the taller man carefully took Kaylina’s hand in his, a beaming smile holding tightly to his features, “And do you William Barnum, take Kaylina Morton to be your lawfully wedded wife, promising to love and cherish, through joy and sorrow, sickness and health, and whatever challenges you may face, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do!” He chuckled, beaming down at the smaller woman.

“And finally” the pastor paused as light fits of good natured laughter floated from the crowd, “Do you Kaylina Morton, take William Barnum to be your lawfully wedded husband, promising to love and cherish, through joy and sorrow, sickness and health, and whatever challenges you may face, for as long as you both shall live?”

At this point Kaylina couldn’t help but laugh along with William, “I do” After receiving the final response, the pastor motioned for the ring bearer to step forward, as Damien carefully picked up the silver band holding out his hand for Kaylina’s, “With this ring, I thee wed” he spoke before sliding the band onto her finger. In suit Kaylina picked up the two bronze rings, repeating the action between Damien and William, “With this ring, I thee wed”

“And now, by the power vested in me, I hereby pronounce you husbands and wife! You may kiss your bride”

Cheers erupted from the audience, before Kaylina could even react she felt two kisses placed quickly on her cheeks. A giggle fell from her lips as she gently grasped Damien’s face, placing a soft kiss on his lips before turning towards William planting a kiss on his.

As she broke away a bright smile took hold of her features, smiling and laughing happily alongside her newly appointed husbands. Bright eyes turned to gaze at the beautiful, silver wedding band resting on her finger. The sounds from the crowds, the boisterous laughter coming from her husband, all the noise that surrounded her started to fade away, the color draining from the world around her as reality started to fade. Lifeless eyes slowly lifted from the ring, still resting on her hand. The colors had been sapped from the world, nothing but the dark, inky expanses of the void laid before her. She felt tears burn at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill. Her knees hit the ground, long auburn locks fanning out around her, she could still hear the echoes of William’s laughter floating on the stillness as the distant memory faded away into oblivion.

“Another dream?” A cold, calculating voice ripped through the silence. Dark. A sullen smile found its way onto Specter’s features, hollow eyes staring blankly, as her fingertips lightly trailed over the surface of her wedding ring, following the curves and swirls of the design, “A memory” she corrected. Her body shook as she tried to repress the tears that threatened to fall, she didn’t want to break down in front of Dark. He always spoke about how letting your emotions control you made you weak. Unbeknownst to Specter, a single tear made its way down Dark’s cheek, watching the broken shell of his wife struggle to hold herself together.

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Revelations (3x11)

All he wanted was to go to Heaven.

Owen never went to church when he was young. He didn’t have that kind of family. He barely had any family at all. It was just him, his mother, and his grandmother, and neither of them paid him much attention anyway. They never said it, but he knew it was because of how he looked. 

He was bullied at school and stared at on the street, but he was used to it. He didn’t know life any different. He looked weird and people knew it. End of story. 

And when you look weird, your options are few. Nobody wants a big bald freak opening them up and taking out their appendix. He would never stand in a courtroom or in front of a classroom. He thought maybe he could be a cop, but he was too scary to be a good guy. So he stayed out of sight. He kept his head down, did his work, paid the bills. 

He dropped out of school and worked odd jobs for most of his life. He eventually found himself working at a church, cleaning toilets and mopping floors. At first it was just another paycheck, but one day he started listening. 

He noticed how happy the music from the organ at the altar made him, how calm he felt when the voices of the singing congregation washed over him. He would close his eyes and take a break from washing windows or dusting statues to soak it in. His body would fill with peace in a way he’d never experienced before. 

He learned a lot while keeping the church clean– the stories of Jesus, the teachings and beliefs, but he also discovered the many sides of religion. He saw the greed, the envy, the pride. The priests who looked tired and spread thin. The volunteers who bragged and showed off. The kids who cried, the elderly who wept.

He saw weddings and funerals, those who believed and those who were there for nothing but the wrong reasons. 

He watched people pretend to be godly churchgoers only to step outside the doors and yell at their spouses as they got in their Volvos and BMWs.

He took it all in, not sure where his place was in the big picture of all these people coming to worship. Until one day, long after moving on from his job at the church, God spoke to him.

Standing stock still in the garden of his employer’s house, he heard His voice. 

Protect him. Keep him safe. 

He should have been scared; it wasn’t normal to hear a voice in your head when there was no one around. But he wasn’t. He was filled with a sort of light. A purpose. The words felt like an embrace, more comforting than any hug he’d received from his mother, more assuring than any words ever spoken to him. 

For those brief moments, as that love surrounded him, he knew everything would be all right. God was with him. He was meant for someplace better than this. But first, he had a job to do. 

The only thing that mattered was the boy, Kevin. Whatever it took, whatever he had to do, Kevin was his priority now. He kept the family’s lawn perfectly mowed, no longer to pay his bills, but to stay close and protect their child. Everything he did– what he ate, how he dressed, how he arranged his day– was with the intent of doing God’s will. 

He gave of himself, abandoning what little life he’d had, to honor God’s words and do as he had been called. 

As he sat with his arms tied behind his back, he watched the FBI agents. The man only wanted answers, but he assumed the woman with the cross would understand. 

“You believe me, don’t you?” he asked her. “I mean, you must wear that as a reminder.”

She looked down towards her cross. He knew deep in his soul that she wanted to believe– he could feel it surrounding her– but she locked her faith inside. If only she could trust, in herself and in Him. 

“Mr. Jarvis,” she said, and he could tell she was shaken. “My religious convictions are hardly the issue here.”

“But they are.” He was angry because he now understood that nothing was more important than one’s faith in God. “How can you help Kevin, if you don't believe? Even the killer, he believes.”

Her partner made some sort of joke that Owen chose to ignore. 

“Mass on Christmas, fish on Friday,” he said, remembering the things he’d learned from his years at the church, aware that she would know them too. He wanted his words to hurt, to make her see how wrong she was.

“You think that makes you a good Christian,” he continued. “Just because you don't understand the sacrifice, because you're unwilling, don't think for a moment that you set the rules for me. I don't question His word. Whatever He asks of me, I'll do.”

He jumped to his feet and then male agent turned towards him. “Sit down, Mr. Jarvis.”

It was so simple, if they only understood what He wanted. He needed to keep Kevin safe. It was the only thing he had to do. 

“I just want to go to Heaven.” 

He needed to get to Kevin. They were wasting time. 

He could hear the voice. 

He’s near. He’ll kill him. Protect the child. 

He didn’t think; he simply did what was needed. He barely felt the glass against his skin or the hard ground under his body. The strength of something more powerful than himself brought him to his feet and propelled him forward. 

He needed to get to Kevin. He would protect him until the moment his life ended. He would do God’s will, and as he left this earth, he would enter His kingdom, greeting Him with open arms and a smile across his lips. 

Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Ao3

@fridaysat9

[arctic-fiction]

Chapter 7: New Wings

✨Masterlist✨

Summary: Time is running out

Rating: Teen

Warnings: violence, swearing, unreality, choking

Wordcount: 2468

My eyes shot open and were met with crooked leafless branches. I sat up and glanced around. A thick fog danced over dirty water and curled around the misshapen tree trunks. In the distance I could hear creatures croak and crow. I pushed myself off the ground. I stood up to my knees in muddied water filled with pondweed. Shivers ran down my spine. A thin white dress had replaced my old clothes and clung to me, completely soaked.

Where am I?

Where is everyone?

I gotta find Karah

I waded through muddy water past the vines. Every tree looked the same. Every winding turn lead back to where I started. A numbing cold had started to coil through my body; starting at my fingertips and toes, and slowly spreading like a slow working venom through the rest of me. My knees buckled and I collapsed into the water.

I’m tired

I have to get out of the water

Where is Karah?

A branch snapped behind me, and I froze. As I peered through the fog, a large shadow moved closer. A large creature with tree-like horns and spotless white fur stepped through the undergrowth. Big, dark eyes stared into mine, before turning on its heels and fleeing. 

"Hey! Wait!" I jolted up from the water, through the shrubbery. Branches whipped me in my face, and thorns tore my legs to shreds. I stumbled to a halt when I came to a clearing. I scanned the treeline. The creature had vanished. I sighed and wiped sweat from my brow. Where did it go?

I took another step forward. Something wrapped around my ankle and dragged me back. I struggled against it as it tore me through the muddy water, until it yanked me against a tree. Vines and branches pinned me against the bark and coiled around my throat. I struggled against it to no avail. Darkness crept into my vision, and my lungs begged for air. Is this the end? Is this where I die?

Each time I shifted, the vines got tighter. And tighter, and tighter, and tighter. And then

Nothing. No trees, vines, grass. Nothing. An empty void surrounded me in every direction. It was deadly silent. "Karah!" I screamed at the top of my lungs until my voice was raw. No one came.

"He's not coming, you know."

“It’s him! The Dark One!” The young woman trembled as she looked directly at me. I gazed up to the ceiling. Curse you, Aurel, for failing me now. I crouched down. Come one little one, don't give up on me now. I laid my hand on her. Her body jolted up, and she cried out in pain. 

A Guardian leapt forward. "Stay away from her, monster!" His spear fazed through my stomach and he froze. Imbecile. I tore the thing from his hands and broke it over my knee, before chucking him on the ground. The Guardian cowered beneath me.

The crowd was scrambling to get out. Scratching against the locked doors. One figure pushed through the mob. As they reached the steps to the altar, I finally got a good look at their face. Wild curly hair, small button nose and rose coloured eyes. Tesni.

A Guardian raised his spear up, barely an inch from her throat. “Stay back!” she said.

“She needs help,” Tesni said and pushed the spear-tip away from her.

“Stay back, we need to contain the monster.”

“You’re containing Jack shit if she dies. She needs a Healer, now.”

The Guardian paused for a brief moment before lowering his weapon. 

She slid down on her knees. “Skye, hold her steady.” Skye laid the Light Bearer’s head in his lap and grabbed her shoulders. Tesni put her ears to her chest. 

“Her heartbeat is erratic and she’s barely breathing. Karah, check her energy paths.” I hesitated. “What are you waiting for? Do it.”

My hand had barely brushed against her sternum, and she began thrashing wildly. Her veins throbbed with a deep red glow.

“Stop it! You’re killing her, stop it!” Skye cried.

“Skye, calm down,” Tesni began.

“This is all his fault! Look at all the problems he caused us.”

“Karah..” The Light Bearer sighed, barely above a whisper. Her hand reached out to me, and I grabbed it tight.

“I’m here, little one. I’m right here. I know what I have to do, but I don't want to hurt you more than I already have. I caused you so much pain before you were even born, and I don’t think you could ever forgive me for it. But I can’t live without you.” Tears escaped from my eyes and fell to the ground. I took a deep breath and readied myself. I took Tesni’s hands and placed them on The Light Bearer’s forehead and heart, before placing my own over them. A blinding light enveloped the two of us, and an unfamiliar warmth snaked up my arms. It coiled around me, tighter and tighter until I couldn’t breathe, right before disappearing. I stumbled backwards as my eyes struggled to adjust to the dim room. The first breath of fresh air pricked in my lungs. I am myself again. I turned around and saw The High Priestess frozen in fear.

“Missed me, Caelina?” I taunted.

“You.” She sneered at me. “Don’t just stand there! Kill him, you fools!”

“Well, that’s my cue to go.” I grabbed the broken spear and hoisted The Light Bearer in my arms. I jumped off the ground and made a break for the ceiling. I shielded her and braced myself as I broke through the skylight. Glass splinters cut my face, but I kept going. If I stopped now, even for a second, all of this would be in vain. The Guardians chasing me faltered, and I made a break for the mountains in the distance. One brave soul gave chase. They caught up to me fast, and in a moment of panic, I thrusted the broken spear into their stomach. I locked eyes with them as their eyes widened. A child, not even a teenager, and I had robbed them of their life. I watched them plummet down after pulling back the broken weapon. I’ll mourn you in due time, but more are sure to follow. I flew for miles and miles. By the time I landed, it had gotten dark. I made my bed among the broken cobblestone. My comfort didn’t matter, as long as we were safe. Her slow heartbeat became my lullaby. Sleep well, little one, only the gods know what dawn will bring.

"What do you mean he's not coming?" I said. I turned around to face the unknown voice. Ink black hair framed by a round face. Large, grass green eyes glinted with a curious expression. Her willowy body contrasted with the eclipsing grey and brown set of wings on her back.

"Oh, he left. That's why I'm here now," she said.

"Who are you?"

"You know who I am." She smiled.

"I really don't."

She came closer. "Oh come on, think about it. In the Lunar Pool-"

"That was Yana."

"And when you were snooping around in those catacombs."

I blinked slowly."...Sephri?"

"It's good to finally meet you, Light Bearer. But it's time for you to go."

"I don't even know where I am. How could I leave?"

"Follow me." She started flying. I looked over my shoulder and sighed. She came back down and took my hands. "You don't have to do this alone anymore. We got you." More women had appeared behind Sephri. Some with wings, but many without. Sephri pulled me up, and wispy, iridescent wings grew out of my back. For the first time ever, I was flying.

“Say hi to papa for me,” she called.

“I will.”

As I got higher and higher, a bright light enveloped me in a blinding warmth.

“What are we gonna do if she doesn't wake up anymore?”

"I don't know."

"Are those your favourite words now? You seemed to know everything before."

"What are you trying to imply, Skye?"

"Did you know this would happen?"

I shot upright and gasped for air. Cracked, dark grey and black stone surrounded me in every direction. Someone had put a piece of rolled up fabric underneath my head. The floor underneath me was rough and uneven. To my left, I saw Skye talking to the other voice. In the distance I could see a figure stoically keeping watch at the entrance. Outside I heard the soft percussion of rain. 

"You're awake." Skye slid down to the ground. "You had me worried, you know." He took my hand and squeezed it.

The other man stood sheepishly near my feet, as if he was debating with himself whether he was welcome or not. He looked odd. Light brown skin, not unlike the clay pots we use to store food back home. Unruly ink black curled around his face, ending around his chin. Equally dark brows furrowed and nearly eclipsed his narrow, bright green eyes. Deep uneven scars ran across his broad chest in a random fashion.

"You need to rest," he said and turned on his heels. I stayed quiet and watched him sit down against the opposite wall.

Skye sat down with his face in his hands, picking at the scar on his cheek.

"Don't…" I swatted his hand away. "You know picking at it won't do anything."

He sighed and lay down next to me.

"Aren't you cold?" I asked. 

"A bit, but I'll deal with it. Anything is better than wearing those godforsaken robes."

"Robes? Where are your clothes?"

He didn't answer, instead he stared at the wall across him. My eyes darted over his body. The bandages around his chest had yellowed, and dark, dried blood had seeped through to the other side.

"Your bandages need changing." I reached out to touch him. He grabbed my wrist and pushed me off.

"You have no idea what happened, have you?" He snapped. The other man looked up from where he was sitting.

I looked at Skye confused. "No?"

He scoffed and told me what had happened. "-And then he just flew off with you, leaving me and Tesni to pick up the pieces. Tesni's girlfriend had to break us out of the dungeon they were holding us in."

"Skye, I didn't-"

"-know this was gonna happen, right? You didn't want to die surrounded by your enemies, right? Well congratulations, now we're gonna starve to death in a cave. All because of his ambition."

"That's enough, Skye." The other man had crossed the room and put his shoulder.

"Don't fucking touch me, Karah." Skye flew off the ground and got up into his face.

"Don't push your luck." His voice stayed perfectly even, unbothered.

"You should've stayed dead and buried."

I don't remember who swung first. Karah turned his back to Skye, before lunging at him, going straight for his throat. Skye dodged him, and kicked him in the stomach. It wasn't long before Skye had him pinned under him, slamming his fists into Karah's face.

"Stop it! You're hurting him. Stop it!" I yelled. Skye didn't listen.

Tesni and another woman sprinted over from the cave entrance. They pulled Skye off of Karah. The woman interposed between them, pointing her spear at him, ready to strike. A stern expression present on her face and daring glint in her eyes. Tesni helped Karah off the ground.

“What in the Gods’ name are the two of you doing?” Tesni asked with a stern voice.

“He started it,” Skye began.

“What are you, a child? Go stand watch. You need to cool off.”

Skye blinked slowly, before taking the spear from the other woman. He stormed off, muttering something to himself that I couldn’t understand.

Tesni turned to me and smiled. “It’s good to see you awake.”

“It’s good to be awake. How long was I out for?” I said.

“Three days.”

“Really? It felt longer.” A long pause fell. “So is this your girlfriend then?”

I looked over to her girlfriend. She was still wearing armour, all though her underdress had torn somewhere along the way. The leftovers of deep purple warpaint were still smudged around her narrow pink eyes. She stood taller than Tesni, nearly as tall as Skye. She ran her hand through her short silvery hair and smiled. “Vanna.”

"Tesni never told me she was seeing someone."

"I'm allowed to have a private life, aren't I?" She huffed.

"Well, not anymore. There are five of us living in the same cave. Privacy isn't something we can afford." Karah said.

They stayed quiet for a moment, before Vanna said: "So what is that guy’s deal, huh?" She glanced in the direction Skye went.

"I don't know." I hugged my knees. "I have never seen him that angry before, let alone lash out like that." I turned to Karah. "Are you okay?"

He shrugged. "I've had worse."

“I should go talk to him.”

“No, let him stew for a while. He seems to need it.”

I stood up. Karah called after me. My steps were heavy, as if I had never left the swamp. I couldn't tell anymore what was the ceiling or the floor, even as my body made contact with it.

"I guess I haven't slept enough yet," I joked. Karah and Tesni gave each other a worried look before helping me back to my makeshift bed. Karah fetched some medic tools from a satchel bag off in a corner. Tesni thumbed through Karah's journals with an ever souring expression.

"Her light is fading. Fast." He said.

"But how can that be? She was stable before she woke up."

"I don't feel weird…" I said quietly. "Maybe I'm just hungry?"

Karah clenched his jaw. Tesni pulled him aside, out of earshot. I could see them talk in a hushed but irritated manner. Tesni spread her wings in order to appear bigger. A vein on Karah's temple throbbed. They talked louder and louder until Karah yelled: "Fine! You go and tell her!" Before storming off deeper into the cave.

"So mister theatrics thinks you're dying." Tesni had walked back over to me.

"Why?"

"Not sure. Either he took part of your soul with him when he left, or your body is so used to housing two souls it cannot cope with having only one."

I mulled over her words. "What are you gonna do now?"

"I don't know. Karah refuses to help, and this…this isn't medicine. It's beyond me."

I rolled onto my stomach and started crawling. Gods be damned, even if I can't walk, I will not quietly lay down and die for someone's morality.

"Where are you going?" Tesni called.

"To talk some sense into him."