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invaderzia1 · 12 days

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alternate universe swap, panic attack mentions

the night before Sebastian had got in a fight with the farmer, it was misplaced anger and emotions really. He knows the moment he raises his voice he’s in the wrong but he just can’t stop, not when they risk their life each day at the mines. Sebastian knows as good as anyone the danger of the mines, having lived next to them for most of his life. he has seen adventurers go in and be carried out on gurneys plenty of times. so he doesn’t understand why they continue to go down.

the fight is bad, really bad and he knows he’s the asshole, but the farmer doesn’t say anything and they just lock him out of the bedroom for the night, going to bed and leaving Sebastian to lay on the couch. it makes Sebastian wonder if he really deserves the farmer, who not once raised their voice at him, just let him yell and get his emotions out.

sebastian wakes up and expects to see the farm house, the one he fell asleep in, only to find Abigail. he wants to freak out, but slowly leaves bed and sees that he’s not at his house. he panics and tries to leave the house, barely noticing the photos of him and Abby hanging in the living room. no he just runs out into the middle of town, internally freaking out at the idea of ending up in Abby’s bed.

He rushes to the farm, trying to find his loving partner when he hears laughing and giggling, laughs he recognizes as the farmer and Sam??? No that can’t be right. as he makes it down the path to their farm, he sees Sam and the farmer on the porch, Sam holding them close as he presses kisses to their face. this can’t be right, this must be a nightmare.

he wants to throw up. wants to march up to the farm and make a scene about the farmer cheating on him, but he has a horrible gut feeling. looking down at his phone, he notices his background is a photo of him and …. Abby?? no it’s supposed to be farmer, why the fuck would it be Abby?

no its definitely a nightmare, his breathing picks up and he struggles to do any of them breathing techniques the farmer had taught him, the situation far to weird for them to even work.

his phone blows up with texts from Abby, calling him babe and asking why he ran out so fast. it’s all too much, he can’t fucking figure it out. so he rushes away from the farm to the only place he thinks he can go, back home to his mom. luckily she’s in the front yard carving some wood, he rushes up, looking like a hot mess still on his pajamas and still having a panic attack. Robin drops her gear and rushes to his side, asking if him and Abby are alright, which only further causes him to freak out. Robin rushes inside, saying she’ll call Abby over to help, leaving Sebastian alone with his thoughts as he struggles to breath. he quickly yells out no, which stops Robin in her tracks.

she rushes back to her son and thinks maybe they are fighting. so she helps Sebastian to his feet and helps him inside, to the dining room. she tries her best to calm him down, which helps to get him speaking, which is progress.

Sebastian must sound like a fool when he asks what happened to him and the farmer, which causes Robin to laugh, but immediately feel bad. She explains how he always rejected the farmer, so they started dating Sam. she adds a quick comment about how she thought him and the farmer would’ve made a cute couple, but that he was too nervous around them. she then explained how after the farmer and Sam got married, he accepted Abigail’s pestering for a date. Sebastian eyes widen in realization, almost having another panic attack at the revelation.

he ends up walking back to his “house”, Abby running up and hugging him when he returns. it doesn’t feel right, not like the farmer used to hug him. it’s like she’s not really in it, just going through the motions. it hurts, knowing he fumbled the farmer so hard in this timeline. He seeks privacy in his bedroom, opening his phones notes app and reading through his secret journals he’s kept, a habit he started in high school.

god his life seems depressing, he never dated the farmer, so they never pushed him to pursue a different job, so he stayed with his old coding job. it seems like he’s aware Abby isn’t happy in their relationship either, but she’s only staying for the stability it brings and just going through the motions of being an alright partner, as if he’s holding her back in life. and even now, his alternate timeline self is still in love with the farmer, hopelessly pining for them even after rejecting them.

he thinks maybe this is all his fault, maybe the universe is showing him what could have been. he pulls the covers up and hides in them, hoping that if he goes back to sleep, it’ll all be over like a bed dream.

When he wakes up, he finds himself back on the couch in the farm house, as if he had never left. immediately he rushes from the couch and to the bed room, knocking on the door to apologize to his loving partner.

#sebastian sdv #sebastian x reader #sebastian x farmer #Maddy writes #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley x farmer #sebastian stardew valley

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raygunny · 7 months

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Wandering Eyes

Word count: 2,203

Astarion x Fem Tav

I hyperfocused for 4 hours straight and this is what fell out. My first longer story, please enjoy 💙

Astarion often finds himself staring at Tav.

At first it’s to size her up - see how she thinks, how she holds herself, how she reacts to the others and the situations they keep finding themselves in. Searching for any information that will help him in his goal of getting this tadpole out of his head, of gaining allies in this bizarre and disorienting situation.

Maybe even allies that can help him wipe Cazador off the face of the planet, he thinks to himself.

Early on it’s obvious that Tav has become the leader of this little wayward crew. She’s the first to take action, making the quick decisions that have kept them alive this long. Leading them across this gods forsaken land, collecting more members all along the way. He’s not too thrilled about that last part, but safety in numbers he supposes. She’s the clear key to getting the others to accept him.

As soon as he thinks he has a good read on her, he turns it into a tool. A too easy tactic sharpened by years of experience. The many cataloged faces and expressions ready to be equipped just like anything else he wears. Armor is the word he can’t quite find.

It’s child’s play really, the formulas for seduction, for enticing others into his orbit. Something that has become second nature for him. He senses he will need to take it somewhat slow with her, work his way up to more. It’s a much slower burn than most of the one night lovers he’s had over the many years.

He starts with a classic - a brief but strong, intense gaze right into her eyes, as if he’s peering into her soul. Trying to convey a certain air that says, you’re the only thing on my mind. Luckily he has plenty of opportunities to perform this tactic, it seems she enjoys visiting his tent just to chat. Seeking him out most nights. No surprise, he knows he’s a talented conversationalist.

It’s strange though, she often asks the kind of questions he’s not as used to answering. She asks his opinion on all the hectic events playing out around them, on what he thinks they should do next, checks in to make sure he’s doing okay. Perfect, he thinks, she’s clearly already starting to become enamored.

He tries not to question the strange feeling in his gut every time she walks away.

Days pass, long and arduous, filled with more fighting than he’s ever had to dole out. He often finds himself back to back with Tav, each keeping their initial promise to watch out for one another. Good, at least she likes him enough to continue protecting him. They press on, trekking through the hellish wilderness. With her and the rest of the crew chatting and joking around, he finds himself minding less and less.

Unfortunately for him, he still can’t quite work out if his advances have been effective or not. He begins to occasionally throw in a prolonged look, dragging his eyes up and down her body - never lingering for too long, but still an obvious appreciation of her form. Projecting confidence and desire while catching her eyes from across camp. Pairing it with a few flirtatious comments and he’s sure she’ll be in the palm of his hand soon enough.

He's making progress, she’s definitely warmed to him, but he still senses her guard is up. Not a problem, if all else fails, everyone melts when he tilts his pretty face down and looks up through hooded lids. His long lashes and scarlett eyes pairing oh so perfectly. He’s been complimented on his eyes more times than he could ever count. Almost hypnotizing the ones he lavishes his gaze upon. Lowering his voice to a softer, deeper, sweet tone, he tells her all the things she could possibly wish to hear. How beautiful she is, how he wants her, how he needs her.

It’s not a total lie, he finds himself thinking. He pushes away the thought as soon as it pops into his head.

As the days continue to go by, he becomes less confident that she’s the easy target he first thought her to be. She seems to like him well enough, but frustratingly doesn’t react in the same ways he’s typically used to during this whole seduction business. She just smiles and looks right back, asking him questions that are much too personal for his taste. His flirtatious comments are met with her pretty smile and a good natured laugh, throwing banter right back at him with ease. He’s not sure if she’s just not attracted to him or if he’s doing something wrong.

His confusion only increases when one day a much too nice piece of armor is neatly left on his bedroll, he immediately knows who it’s from. Inspecting it, he notices the finer details - it’s something she easily could have sold for a hefty amount of gold. When he asks about it, she just looks at him and says, to protect you, with that same maddening smile.

Next time, it’s a book he’d been eyeing some days ago while looting one of the many destroyed villages they’d come across. It had been too ruined to take back to camp and he sighed, tossing it back into the pile of rubble he snatched it from. When she sees the astonished look on his face, she shrugs and says, I just saw it at the market and thought of you. Simple as that.

It’s perplexing. They’ve been traveling together for some time now and she hasn’t tried to proposition him, hasn’t asked for anything in return. If she isn’t interested, then why does she keep coming over to talk to him each night? Why does she leave all those small, thoughtful gifts?

Why did she let him bite her?

Astarion tells himself to get it together, he’s usually better at reading people than this. He tries to convince himself that it must be the long days and variety of conflicts they’ve had to deal with - strange and dangerous creatures, endless walking, Gale.

To his chagrin he starts to notice himself staring even when he doesn’t mean to. When she’s talking to whatever new foe or potential ally they’ve stumbled across, he can’t seem to keep his eyes from straying towards her. The confidence and conviction she radiates is magnetic. It surprises him, some feeling he can’t name swirling in his stomach. His eyes get caught on her sunlit profile, walking side by side and hanging a little ways back from the others. He finds his breath catching in his chest at the captivating way she laughs, how her nose crinkles and eyes light up. The way her hair drapes against the curve of her neck, tantalizing in the most frustrating way. Each time she approaches him and so graciously offers to let him feed on her - well, he begins to find himself fantasizing more and more about coming to her tent earlier in the evening.

When she’s still awake, he thinks. This time welcoming the thought.

Soon it starts to become a problem. The others are noticing, he’s not sure if she has too. Tav hasn’t said anything about it, but he also knows their fearless leader isn’t stupid. How embarrassing, is he actually starting to develop feelings for someone who just sees him as a companion? At best, a loyal friend perhaps. He’s more than okay with that, his fondness for Tav has grown considerably - but he’s not some lovesick puppy. At this point he worries that if he did try to bring it up, he’d push her away. That’s the last thing he wants.

He tries his best to not dwell on what he’d do if she wasn’t around anymore. He loathes to admit the idea scares him.

It all culminates one day in battle. He catches a glimpse of her surrounded by goblins and before he can react to help, she’s knocked them back in one blow. It’s beautiful the way she fights, so focused and intense. So powerful. The only thing on her mind is to keep moving forward, to keep protecting her allies - her friends. Pushing on until every single danger has been handled and every enemy eviscerated.

Suddenly he’s hit hard with a thunderwave spell, throwing him through the air and knocking the wind out of him. His ears are ringing and all he can do is lie on the ground trying to pull breath into his lungs. He admonishes himself while trying to get his bearings - idiot, how could he let himself get so distracted?

His eyes come to focus on Tav, sprinting in his direction as fast as he’s ever seen her run. In two hits she cuts down the nearby sorcerer who had aimed their attack at him. She’s suddenly by his side, a hand on his shoulder with a concerned look on her face. It's not fair, she’s even beautiful covered in blood and wearing that worried expression. He never stood a chance, he realizes.

She trusts the others to finish off the last couple enemies across the field. Crouched next to him and training her eyes intently on his, she asks him if he’s okay, where it hurts. He sees something in her face that he’s only seen a few times, true fear.

It’s ridiculous but the only thing he feels in that moment is an unbearable pressure in his chest.

Later that night while patching their wounds, Tav finds her way next to him. They sit in silence for a few moments before she says, “I was really worried about you out there today.” She pauses then continues on, “You scared me.”

He’s taken aback for a second, eventually saying, “While I appreciate the concern, I can handle myself just as well as anyone else here.” It comes out too harsh.

He pivots and puts on a smile, joking in a lighter tone, “Despite what it looked like today that is - I was actually just having a little mid-battle rest. Couldn’t you tell?”.

She chuckles, “My deepest apologies, how could I ever have thought otherwise.” Pausing again she bites her lower lip thoughtfully for a moment. When she continues it's with a more serious tone, but he can still see a small smile on her lips. “You know I wouldn’t dream of questioning your tactics, but how about you let me know next time you want to..rest..during battle. So I can at least watch your back.” she finishes sheepishly.

That is not what he was expecting her to say. He can’t help but think, why does it always feel like she’s pulling the rug out from under his feet. He can’t take it anymore.

He turns his gaze to look her directly in the eyes before he says, “I froze out there today because I was an idiot”, there's an obvious frustration behind it. “I lost focus and I can’t say for sure it won’t happen again.”

Now she’s surprised, “What do you mean? Is everything okay?” a furrow in her brow forming.

He takes a shaky breath in - here it comes. “Tav, I was distracted because I was looking at you. I -", he gathers his thoughts, "Sometimes it feels impossible to take my eyes off you.”

He continues on in a quieter, more vulnerable voice, “I care about you more than I ever thought I would.” He looks away as the words spill from his lips, “More than I thought I could. It’s not something I’m familiar with, whatever these feelings are. But I know they’re feelings for you.”

More resolute he looks back at her face, taking it in for a moment, “Real feelings, not just a role I’m playing. It's new territory for me.” He braces himself, “If you don’t feel the same way I understand, it’s really no problem. I just..couldn’t take another moment without you knowing.”

Tav searches his face, he’s not sure what she’s looking for. Suddenly she moves closer.

Very seriously she looks at him and says, “I care about you too Astarion, you’re a very special person to me.”

His heart soars, hope buzzing in his stomach and that unmistakable feeling he hasn’t been able to identify rises in his chest once again.

He gingerly places one hand on her neck, drawing her towards him, stroking her jawline with his thumb. Looking into her eyes he sees it on her face, she wants him too. He leans forward to meet her, placing a tender kiss on her lips as if this spell will break at any second. She smiles into it - that damned smile that’s been driving him crazy.

He kisses her a little more passionately, lavishing the feeling of her lips on his.

He pulls away and stares at her face one more time. They both break into a grin and his nerves calm as he lets out a small laugh.

Today is not the day he puts a name to the feeling that has spread from his chest and into the rest of his body, but he has a feeling it will come to him soon enough.

#astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion fanfic #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #bg3 tav #fem tav #astarion/tav #bg3 fanfiction

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arealphrooblem · 6 months

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A Lost Cause Part 2

Synopsis: The trusted keeper of all the Heroes' secrets, Civilian's existence is kept a tightly guarded secret itself. So how did the villain find her? And how will she withstand the attempts of his scientist to break her open and discover those secrets himself?

CW: nonconsensual drugging, medical whump, medical experimentation, needles/IV insertion, mentions wounds from torture, torture recovery, captivity

The anticipation of what might happen each time he walked into the room was almost worse than actual torture. His words ran on a loop in her head as she dozed in and out of deep sleep.

I am dying to create the tools that will break you open.

But each time he visited, he did nothing but check vitals, change bandages, survey her progress, feed her. Slowly she worked her way up from broth to solid food, from sleeping most of the day to sleeping at night, from needing a catheter to walking to the bathroom herself once the bottoms of her feet were healed (and that was not a fun day, no sir).

The scientist refused to answer her questions outright unless she offered up answers of her own. Each day they ended in a stalemate, which he seemed to find amusing.

He refused even his name. Eventually she just started calling him the doctor, because he treated her like one. Despite her captivity, despite the ominous warning Vanderbilt gave her in the interrogation room, despite her overwhelming vulnerability, he treated her with polite and patient professionalism.

She tried to give him the same courtesy. Whatever his future plans were, he had given her the space and time to heal back to full strength. She would make sure he regretted that. But first she had to look cooperative and weak.

A few days after shedding both the catheter and the bandages on her feet and thighs, the doctor strolled in not with his usual stethoscope, but with a clipboard and a pen.

Her gut did not like that.

“Your recovery is chugging along quite spectacularly,” he said, clicking the pen. “Which means we are almost ready to start the clinical trials. Of course, before I give you anything, I will need you to answer a few questions about your medical and family history.”

“Clinical trials for what?” she asked, feeling like she swallowed a stone.

“For my experiments, of course,” he said, as if it were obvious. “Why did you think I’ve been helping you recover? Pity? The goodness of my heart?”

“What experiments?” she demanded.

“Oh I have several in mind for you. But first, a few questions.”

“Sure, of course,” she said, deeply scathing. “Let’s make it easier for you to torture me. I’ll jump right on that.”

“You should, if you want greater chances of survival. I need to know your allergies, cancer risks, medications you’ve been on, previous surgeries, or else I could accidentally kill you. You’re a very special experiment. I’d rather not lose you so soon to such a preventable cause.”

It made her blood run cold, the casual way he voiced her probable death, as if he equated it with the disappointment of prematurely expired raspberries. An inconvenience, but there’s always more.

The worst part was that he had a point. What would be the purpose of her team rescuing her in a blaze of glory if she had died of anaphylactic shock?

So through gritted teeth, she answered all of his medically relevant questions. He wrote each down dutifully on his clipboard.

“And your name?” he asked finally.

She pursed her lips into a thin line and glared at him. He nodded.

“Not today, then. No worries. That will be the first thing you give me with the success of my first experiment.”

A knot formed in her stomach. “What’s the first experiment?” she couldn’t help but ask.

He smiled enigmatically. “You’ll find out when the time comes.”

She waited a few minutes after the door shut before she tip-toed to the window. The only thing she could see outside was a sheer cliff and water for miles. Probably the ocean, but she couldn’t open the window to tell. It was nailed shut.

Wherever she was, it looked far from civilization. Maybe that was why, after what had to be at least a month if not more, that her team hadn’t found her yet. They were city people. Superheros rarely had to venture into the rural countryside, let alone a place this remote.

Such reassurances did not cure the unease in the back of her mind that something didn’t add up.

Now that she had recovered, fatigue did not weigh her down so much and boredom began to creep in it’s place. The doctor offered her a handful of novels, mostly pulp scifi and dystopian literature. She read them and re-read them so often she could quote passages from each one. When the doctor finally appeared in her room with a small, rolling table of syringes and an IV needle, the jolt of adrenaline was almost euphoric in the face of the mind numbing monotony of her days.

“You seem eager for our first experiment,” the doctor said with a bemused quirk of his lips.

“Ecstatic,” she deadpanned, ignoring the jolt in her heart. “I can’t wait for you to kill me with whatever ungodly chemical is in that.”

He chuckled, pushing the cart next to her bed. “You’re right in that God has nothing to do with what I create. But it is not my goal to kill you — the opposite in fact. I try to limit risks as much as possible. There is only one you, after all.”

“Is that supposed to be reassuring?”

“Is it not?” It was almost comical how he blinked at her in innocent confusion.

She just glared at him in return, which he cheerfully ignored as he slipped the latex gloves on with a snap. He even hummed a little as he pulled open the packaging for the IV needle and the alcohol wipe.

Meanwhile her gut churned and frothed in horrible anticipation. She had gone through literal torture but this scared her more. When knives or brands or electric cattle prods came out, at least she knew what they did. No one knew what would happen as a result of this experiment, not even him. At least the goal of torture was to keep you alive as long as possible. These experiments could kill her. These could be her last living moments.

Fear tainted her every breath but just as she did in the face of her torturers, she refused to let it show on her face. Instead she stared resolutely out the window, at the glint of the water in the sunlight.

“Deep breath,” he murmured just before she felt the sharp pain of the IV needle.

Her gaze darted to him, drawn like a magnet to the sight of him tapping the air bubbles from the syringe. Nausea roiled inside her. She fought hard against the urge to rip the IV out before he could inject the serum. Instead, she could only watch in horrified resignation as it flowed through the IV drip.

“And now we wait,” he said, flashing her that polite smile, as if they were sitting in a doctor’s office.

He removed his dark tinted glasses and sat down at the love seat.

“We wait?” she cried. “Wait for what?”

The anticipation of the IV alone nearly drove her mad and now this?

He shrugged. “Ideally your mind should relax into an altered state where you forget you’re not supposed to keep your secrets and you tell me whatever information I desire. However, that didn’t work well back with Vanderbilt and I’m not expecting much success this time. I just want to see how you react to these sorts of chemicals.”

“So you’re just fucking around with my brain?”

“In a manner of speaking, I suppose.” He crossed his legs and tapped his thumbs on his knees, the picture of nonchalance. She never wanted to hit him so much.

“What if it does nothing? What if you failed?”

“Failure is just important data I didn’t have before. I’m not afraid of failure.”

You should be she thought bitterly.

But of course it wasn’t his life on the line.

When the effects hit her, it wasn’t nothing. All the muscles in her body locked up and spasmed. She could do nothing but writhe in the bed and scream. It felt worse than all her other torture combined.

By the time she finally blacked out, she couldn’t scream anymore.

#hero x villain #villain x civilian #whump #whump writing #medical whump #my writing #a lost cause #this is pretty dark for me

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starstruckwillows · 1 year

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♡ z to a - s.b ♡

requested by anon<3, i'm a firm believer james potter lives by the beach

rockstar!sirius black x shy!reader, fem!reader, fluff fic, petnames, might make spin-off blurbs about them, some alcohol, participation in halloween, mention of coke but no drug consumption by canon characters or reader, swearing

emotionally constipated rockstar!sirius tries to confess his feelings for you three times before someone else does it for him

29th august 1978

the marauders had only been out of hogwarts with their n.e.w.ts in tow for a month or so when the production deal came through.

in all honesty, nobody, including them, was really expecting the band to progress past the potters' garage. so to soar to fame after one pub gig, seemingly overnight... it made everyone's head spin.

that's what you put that night down to. excitement. everyone out, drinking and cheering, sirius kissing you as though he'd been waiting for years to do such a thing.

but sirius didn't wait. he was confident, as sure as the tide running towards your group on the beach. you were both drunk and excited, everyone was kissing. you're almost sure you saw regulus kissing someone and he was vehemently against intimacy outside a relationship.

neither of you ever bought it up again, but you couldn't help but wonder sometimes.

the sand filling your clothes the next morning as you all woke was a sobering reality, trudging back to james' house while everyone complained there was still salt water in their hair even more so.

"hey." sirius groaned, jogging up beside you and instantly regretting the movement.

your hair was an untamed mess that you swiped from your eyes to answer him, "hey."

"you gonna come on tour with us, doll?" his voice was light and teasing, and you were about to quip back when mary nudged him roughly, "where's our invite then?"

he threw an arm around her shoulder and laughed, "backstage passes for every show."

marlene thumped him, "knock it off, it's one deal."

the lot of you dissolved into hungover giggles and you knew sirius was only teasing you like he teased everyone.

peter appeared next to you, "would you really come with us if we went on tour?"

thinking of the busy backstage chaos and all the people that would be present, you shrugged.

"as if we'll ever get to tour." remus scoffed.

1st april 1979

the marauders did get to tour.

first, around the uk, both for the muggle and wizarding world. two tours passed like that, with sirius personally sending you tickets to each one. you went to most.

now, they were all set to tour the whole of europe, and their manager was discussing america too. they'd been a sensation, the lot of them, and you were all so proud.

it was lily, your best friend, who suggested you should join them.

"why not? i'm going, it'll give me someone to talk to!"

as an independent reporter, lily's job was as flexible as she wanted it to be. yours was not so simple, but it could be done. it still felt like much too big of a risk.

your hesitation was visible, lightly tugging your arm out of lily's excited grip, "i don't know lils, i can't just invite myself along."

"alright, don't tell him i told you, but sirius is going to ask you to come. would you say yes?"

you hated it, felt pathetic, when the mention of sirius' name had your gut screaming yes.

"i- i guess."

she squealed, and if it wasn't so against your quiet nature you might of squealed with her, her joy was so pure.

so when sirius knocked on the door of your room, only down the corridor from his in the large flat share the band had bought, you knew what he would ask and you knew your answer.

he sat on the end of your bed, relief all over his face at your shy agreement, and took one of your hands in his, tattoos decorating the pale skin.

"also, there's something else i was going to ask you-" his voice was uncharacteristically nervous, each word a struggle.

a screech that you both instantly assigned to james sounded from the communal kitchen, and the two of you leapt up to see what fire had been started.

there was none, just the sparkle of marlene's ring finger, and dorcas' wide smile.

"you're engaged!"

the night became another of celebration and shouting. it's a good thing the lot of you didn't have many neighbours.

sirius was caught once looking at you wistfully, before averting his gaze and making a crude joke about strippers for the hen do.

you smiled ruefully, commanding yourself to calm down. sirius was the frontman and lead singer of a now world famous band. you were a girl he went to school with who also lived where he lived.

breathe, you told yourself, turning politely to remus who was telling you about their new song.

31st october 1981

halloween had never been your favourite holiday, always too nervous to get in any costume that you thought looked good on you. most of your life, you'd been on trick or treat duty.

the new joint penthouse, consisting of remus, sirius, peter (publicly known as three thirds of the hit band, the marauders), marlene and dorcas (still engaged but getting married next year), and regulus, who didn't technically live there anymore but was around enough. but there were no kids to approach the door with pumpkin baskets in hand, and therefore no duty for you with your bag of sweets.

mary had moved out with her partner earlier that year, and it was at her house she convinced you into a costume you knew you looked gorgeous in, but couldn't bring yourself to arrive back home in.

the party would be in full swing by now, full of rockstars and actors and models and probably the odd politician crashing the place. remus usually chased them out.

"lily told me you have to wear it." mary flicked you on the head.

"why?" you asked, whinier than intended.

she pointed to the group photo, showcasing baby harry in the centre, "because her and james are occupied, and she's not here to bully you into it."

with a reluctant grumble of 'fine', you grabbed your car keys, mary and her partner climbing into the backseat, all giggles and confidence, while you avoided checking yourself in the mirror every three seconds out of nerves.

everyone you entered the party with dissipated quickly, leaving you rubbing your arm nervously.

"hello!" a man approached you, tipsy but not drunk. you vaguely recognized him as the guitarist of the marauders' go to opening act.

you'd been on their europe tour with them twice, but not their most recent american one. it was hard to remember individuals from the many faces you saw in that time.

clearing your throat, you offered an increasingly nervous, "hi..."

"you were on tour! what-" he hiccuped, "why were you there again?"

you shrugged tightly, "i helped in the costume, hair and makeup department. but sirius asked me to come."

the man's eyes bulged out of his head, "man, so you're like a travel groupie! can't wait to get myself one of them."

you coughed awkwardly, trying to edge away, "oh- no, it's not like that."

"you're like viv or whatever her name was!"

the man seemed excited at the link, you wanted to hurl. vie was a girl peter had fallen for, but turned out to be someone just climbing the social ladder and using his head as a stepping stone, as well as leaking information about james and lily's new house, and remus' "health condition" that she, a muggle, didn't know was lycanthropy.

you hated to see your friend so heartbroken, while she headlined hollywood's major films that year.

"i'm not vie, and i'm not a groupie." you said, firmer than was usual for you.

sirius chose that convenient moment to appear, eyes trailing over your skin with an involuntary smile before a frown took over his beautiful face as he saw the man you were engaged in conversation with.

he clapped the guy on the shoulder with more force than necessary, "everything alright, kade?"

kade nodded and scurried off, mumbling something about spotting his coke dealer. that was a guy in way over his head, you thought.

"you look brilliant, doll. he didn't ruin your mood, did he?"

you shook your head, not quite making eye contact, the gloss on your lips stretching into a smile.

sirius wasn't convinced, gently holding your arm, "look at me, please."

the undertone of the plead in his voice made you do as he said, resisting the urge to pull at your sleeves.

"what did he say?" sirius' voice was unusually low and slightly rough as he balanced the line between not shouting but making sure you could hear him over the music.

you tried not to shrug again, conscious of the heat of his hand around your wrist, "oh, he just thought i was a travel groupie or something."

there was a cool anger present in sirius' eyes, but it left when he focused on your face, finger trailing across the arch of your cheek, "you know you're much more than a groupie, love."

usually you would have retorted something about how you couldn't be a groupie when you saw him at his lowest twelve year old moments, but instead you plucked some confidence from somewhere deep within you to ask, "yeah? what am i, then?"

he tossed his head back to the ceiling, pale throat with a tattoo creeping up one side exposed to the air in front of you, slightly long raven hair falling back. the half groan, half laugh he gave you was enough to make your stomach flutter.

except the answer he had on his tongue was stolen by the rare sight of an angry remus. a burning rage as he spat foul curses at the bombshell beauty that was vie.

sirius' whole face was set in a furious grimace. he let go of your arm, retracting the warmth and jogging over. you trailed awkwardly behind, apparently catching vie's eye as she swivelled to you, screaming and sobbing.

"she's no better! you let her in here, she's just as shallow as i am!" the young woman cried with more dramatics than ever. peter looked struck with dazed fear on the sidelines, a lipstick mark on his neck that he was trying to rub off.

you felt the same, shock seeping into your system. you'd been nothing but nice to vie, ever. you were the last to believe how she'd betrayed you all.

she was shouting at marlene now, who shouted back with just as much vigor until the two dissolved into a scrap and the actress was escorted out.

the party continued with ease, as it always did when famous people fought. everyone was too drunk, high or both to care.

as unsettling as it was, it wasn't the most dramatic thing to occur since the marauders' sudden stardom. you could think of twenty more shocking examples from the last tour alone.

right now, you just wanted to find sirius again. wanted to find your answer to that question.

he was buy the drinks table, downing another shot and about to fall over the line of tipsy to fully intoxicated.

"hey, sirius..."

he almost collapsed into you, "i'm sorry."

the slur in his words was evident as you patted his hair, "it's alright, darling, why don't we go sit down?"

"sure."

when the two of you were seated uncomfortably close on the sofa, his feet on the glass coffee table and head lolling against the sofa material, you brought up your question again, cup of something in hand.

"what am i here, sirius?"

a more sober demeanor overtook him, and he hesitated in the way drunk people rarely did, "my best friend, of course."

you smiled and nodded, as you usually did, satisfied with the answer but a small pang in your chest knowing you wanted more than that.

"of course."

1st november 1981

you woke groggily, not quite hungover but not quite alert either, releasing you were still half folded across sirius.

heat in your face, you scrambled off of him. james sat at the kitchen island with about eight coffees in front of him, adorning the bright smile of someone who'd had a good nights sleep.

"harry go to bed well last night?"

eagerly, as though nobody had asked yet, which you supposed they hadn't, "yeah! didn't even wake up once. absolute champ."

tiredly, you reached for a coffee, "when did you get here?"

"about twenty minutes ago. remus was already up, he herded everyone out. 'cept regulus, he's asleep somewhere."

"ah well, he basically lives here anyway."

"can't find pete though, remus has gone out to look now."

everyone was up and dressed with eyes bulging from their heads as they stared at the news headlines, only ten minutes later.

remus burst into the apartment, storming over to the tv, "fuckin' found peter."

the reporter behind the screen showed an image of the marauders' latest album cover as he spoke, "you heard it here first folks, an exclusive interview last night with peter pettigrew and his girlfriend, vie dalton, reveals his decision to leave the band, and provides some juicy inside information on why that is."

it became a day filled with pr meetings and phone calls, hasty damage control, and fending off reporters outside the building.

you were caught in a throng of them on your way to the shops. you'd only gone out for tea bags, because remus looked like he was going to blow another fuse when he discovered a lack of them in the cupboard.

microphones were shoved in your face, "who are you to the marauders?"

"who are to sirius black? how do you feel about his playboy lifestyle?" nice, thanks peter. last time i tell you about a crush.

"how did you get to live with the band?"

breathe.

"are you part of the crew?"

breathe, just breathe, walk, and get to your car.

"do you know who remus lupin is seeing?"

i can't breathe.

"has james potter cheated on his wife?"

i can't breathe.

"can we get a statement for the daily prophet?"

an arm around your waist appeared, pulling you away from the people suddenly, catching you as you stumbled backwards.

it was sirius, you could smell his colonge, and his slightly hoarse voice rang in your ears as he offered the mob a harsh set of curse words.

safely back in the elevator, you slammed yourself into the corner against the cold metal.

"i've got- got to get teabags... for remus."

you could barely see sirius through the blur of impending tears as he wrapped you into him, "forget the tea, remus will manage."

you knew he'd punched the emergency stop button because the lift wasn't moving. you couldn't feel it rise beneath you as you slid to the ground, still clinging onto sirius as he went down with you.

once your lungs worked on their own, you moved hair from your eyes and laughed. sirius, looking at you in total confusion, felt your head for a temperature.

"i'm alright," you all but whispered, "thank you."

he gave you a half smile, not as cocky as a smirk, but more than something friendly, "of course."

you didn't want to move from his embrace, so you didn't, letting your head fall against his shoulder, leather jacket smooth against your face.

"you've always been there, y'know?" he said suddenly.

"hm?"

sirius played with the hem of your shirt in an almost nervous manner, "you've always stayed with us. with me. from z listers to a. sometimes i think i don't deserve that much."

you wanted to scream at him, telling him just how much he deserved, telling him you wish he'd just let his guard down for two seconds so you could love him.

you didn't.

"of course you deserve it, siri, i wouldn't have stuck around so long if you didn't."

"cos we're best friends?"

"sure."

he unwound himself from your side, twisting to face you, "have you heard everything peter said?"

you nodded.

"the stuff about us?" sirius prompted further.

you tensed, froze, then nodded.

"so you know how i feel? that the pick you signed for my birthday is the only one i use? you know i spent four hours shopping for your christmas present because it had to be perfect? that i'm the one who leaves a coffee outside your door every morning? you know that i'm in love with you?"

the words rang free in the elevator, and your eyebrows furrowed slightly as you looked up at him. he looked terrified. you hadn't seen him this scared since he left home, you didn't want him to be this scared ever again.

words failed you. they always did, you weren't good at talking, you weren't good at making bold statements without over analyzing them.

you did the only thing you could think of to do, following your gut, and leaning forward to kiss him, hands around the back of his neck and in his hair, slow enough to give him time to back away.

but he didn't, pulling you closer alarmingly quickly, lips colliding in a way that should've been awkward, but wasn't. the two of you seemed to just fit against each other like magnets slotting together after being held apart.

"sirius-" you tried to move away to talk, but he just emitted a low whine and pulled you back in.

you didn't have any motivation to break away again. he seemed more important to you than breathing; he definitely felt better.

eventually the emergency stop button was hit again and the two of you returned to your apartment, looking like two grinning fools in love. everyone was too preoccupied to notice anything different. maybe nothing was all that different.

you spent the rest of the day in his bed.

taglist:

@anordinarymuse @ell0ra-br3kk3r @kingshitonly @slut4benbarnes

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narcissarina · 27 days

Text

𝔊𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔫 ℭ𝔞𝔤𝔢, 𝔅𝔩𝔲𝔢 𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔰

જ⁀➴Previous chapter

Pairings: bodyguard!Leon × college billionaire!reader

Word count: 935

Tw: shooting

Summary: You confronted your step-mother.(please i suck at summarizing as the chapter progress)

𝚇𝙸𝙸𝙸.

“Never thought you had a guts to even consider me as your mother, dear.” The woman in front of you, who’s your step-mother—the mistress of your father, the woman who ruined the marriage of your parents. She was right, she never expected you to even consider her a mother, let alone being called as a Mother.

You take a deep breath and look at her dead in the eyes, “you’re right, I don’t consider you as my mother,” you frown and clenched your fist, “I only called you mother because of my father, now that my mom is gone. I called you mother because my father wanted me to.” You remark as you could feel the tears from the back of your eyes.

“You ruined their marriage, you took father. Now you wanted to take my life too?” you weep, fist clenching as your nails dug to your skin.

She chuckle and turns into laughter, she laughs as if she’s royalty, hand on her mouth as she lets out a laugh. “No hard feelings, dear.” She flashes a smile and put her hand on her hips, “you’re just ruining my plan, that’s all. Got to take matters to my own hands, you know?”

“What did I ever do to you?”

“You did nothing wrong, but your birth did and so does your mother marrying your father.”

Leon could only stand beside you, listening as the family drama unfold. You felt betrayed by your step-mom, you thought she’s a decent woman with a habit of controlling others to their clothing of choice. She always looks out for you best, managing to fool you when she thought she’s concern for you.

But she isn’t.

She was even relieved that when you go to your school party that a student held, you were almost assaulted. Little did you know, that she knew that Leon wouldn’t be by your side that time. But what about the bring your bodyguard bullshit? That was just a façade.

She paid them money, the drugs and the men… it was all hers, Leon always thought that no one in the right mind would just do that out of the blue—you never made enemies, you shut idiots out from your world.

The more she talks, the more Leon loses his shit. As if his ears were ringing at the annoyance of her voice, “god, you fucking talk too much.” He aim and shot her in her left shoulder, she screamed and ordered her ‘men’ to attack, “ma’am, we’re just scientist.”

“Do I look like I gave a shit?! I pay you dirty money so do as I say!” The woman snaps while gripping onto her shoulder, hissing and groaning in pain. The three men don’t know what to do, the big guy attacked with a chair in hand, Leon pulled you aside and shot the guy in between his eyes.

“I don’t have time to play games!” Leon shouts and made a quick rundown at the two men, shooting them in their leg. The woman got to her feet and tries to run away, Leon shot her in her leg—making her scream in pain and agony. “You’re not escaping me.”

Leon turns to the tan male, “when I ask a question, you better answer truthfully if you wanna live.” The agent threatened, pulling the mans hair, “tell me,” Leon kneels and make him meet eye contact, “will she turn to, you know. One of them?”

The man lips trembled as he answers the agents question, “n-no, although there will be side effects since we buried the piece deep in her skin—she wouldn’t survive if we stuff a bigger piece inside her wound,” his pistol points to the mans chin, “to be sure though, she needs some medications…”

Leon nodded and stood up, letting go of the mans hair, “I think I’ve heard enough.” He turns to his earpiece, “Hunnigen, send the choppers.”

“Just did.”

The agent smiled and walks up to you, “you’ll be fine.” He assures, “help me with them, hm?”

You manage to help Leon with the three people who’s behind of this all, the sun is already rising and it’s now 7 in the morning. When out of the mansion, you took a deep breath and inhale the welcoming breeze as it touches your skin.

The three were badly wounded by Leon’s shot, he didn’t bother patching them up.

The blonde agent stood beside you, watching as the sun is rising. Silence filled as he spoke, “we did good.” Leon said, you smiled at him and lay your head on his shoulder. “Hope you didn’t forget the thing you’re suppose to bring back.”

Leon chuckle at your remark and held it high in his hand, “don’t worry,” she smiled and wrap his arm around your shoulder, “mission accomplished?”

“Mission accomplished.”

You heard wringing on the distance as it come close, it was the chopper that Leon called for. There was a couple of agents in that chopper, slowly it got to the ground and took the case from Leons hand and took the criminals in.

“I’ll get you home safe, princess.” Leon mutter to your ear as he assist you inside the chopper, it was now the time for you to relax as you feel Leon’s heartbeat right beside your ear. You hum in content and let your eyes rest, he’s there when you nee him to protect you.

You have a lot to catch up in school and get interviewed by the authorities as your father is worried sick.

But it’s been a fun but terrifying journey, right?

Next Chapter>>>

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon resident evil #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy #Golden Cage Blue Bonds series #leon kennedy smut #resident evil leon #re4 leon #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x you #leon x reader #re4r leon #bodyguard!leon #its short:(

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prythiansfavoritefox · 8 days

Note

[ COMFORT ] 🪷 Elain 🪷

Lucien could not take it anymore. Bottling up all of his problems inside was killing him. He hated himself, he hated his life, he hated his fucking job. He hated that no matter what he did, Tamlin seemed to be so far out of his reach. The last time they'd spoken, Tamlin had given him a black eye. Cauldron boil him, he'd tried not to retaliate, but...something in him had just snapped. Everything that had happened to him over the past several months had just spilled over, and he'd set a driving punch straight into Tamlin's abdomen. Then he tunneled so deep down into that rage that he hadn't even noticed his fire swirling around him as he absolutely pummeled Tamlin. He had burned most of Tamlin's clothes off, and little burn marks peppered his skin. His own clothes, woven with magic fire-resistant cloth from Autumn, remained intact.

Lucien had known that whatever progress he might have made with Tamlin was undone the moment he had punched back. So frustrating-so unbelievably frustrating to have to deal with a broken High Lord and his court, yet no one cared. Feyre hadn't even asked about his eye. Not like Lucien had offered the information; he didn't trust Feyre or the Inner Circle as far as he could throw them. With information, he had no choice. But his feelings? He could keep them to himself and spare himself the hurt.

When he was in his small house in Velaris safely in bed, he let himself cry. Why had his life come to this? What had he done in a previous life to deserve this? Who was he kidding, playing emissary to the Night Court? He didn't belong here any more than he belonged in Spring. Gods, he missed Autumn. He didn't think that was something he'd ever say, but at least Beron had mostly left him alone. He was free to pursue his education, free to make friends amongst the gentry, free to practice his sword and read books and whatever else he was interested in. He loved being busy and visiting other courts, but considering a big part of his work was babysitting a miserable man who had in the latter stages of their relationship become abusive towards him, it was safe to say he'd much rather being doing anything else.

Sigh. He could probably do a ten times better job of ruling than any of these fools, but alas, he was stuck in this weak role of emissary, disrespected by all who associated with him. Not even his mate cared for him.

By the Cauldron, he missed Jesminda. The only person who had ever cared for him, chosen him.

At some point while crying, he fell asleep. Something tugged in his gut, and he found himself watching himself sitting beside a pond, bare feet dipped in the water, and next to him sat a stunningly beautiful brunette. Elain. His Elain. His mate who did not want him-

Lucien, she whispered quietly. This is just a dream, Lucien told himself, but it did not feel that way. No, that tug on his gut was very real.

She was wearing a long ruffled lavender dress with a pretty straw hat on her head. She held a matching basket, but when Lucien looked inside, there were only worms. Lucien jumped back.

"The Night Court gardens' soil is very poor, so I bred some ground worms to help replenish the nutrients," Elain said matter-of-factly, like she hadn't just said the most shocking thing ever. Lucien gaped at her. "You actually bred...?"

"Yes!" Elain said brightly. Then she gently put a hand on his shoulder, her big eyes full of concern. "You seem upset. Is there something wrong?"

Lucien snorted, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. "As if you care if something is wrong."

"Of course I care," Elain said insistently. "You are my mate."

"Do not condescend to me," Lucien replied sharply. "I know such things mean nothing to humans."

"But I am no human anymore," Elain said, trying to reach for Lucien's body again. He pulled away again, and he almost regret it looking at the hurt that formed in her doe-brown eyes. But she avoided him like the plague in daylight; was he wrong to return the favor?

"But you still adhere to the human culture and rules," Lucien pointed out.

"It doesn't matter what I adhere to!" Elain shouted exasperatedly. "It doesn't matter how much I tell myself the mating bond means nothing, when I cannot breathe every time you are near. It doesn't matter how much I resent it, how much I feel is the bond and how much is me, when all I can think of when you are close to me are thoughts improper for a lady."

Lucien blinked, heat creeping up in his face as he recalled the absolutely filthy thoughts in her mind as he'd tugged on the bond that one afternoon.

"Fine," Lucien muttered. "It was Tamlin. He's being grumpy and uncooperative. I know he's hurting, but goddamnit, he has hurt me. And Spring has to be up and running soon, else the land is ripe for the taking."

Elain tilted her head curiously. "Is that really all?" Lucien sighed, shaking his head. "No, that was just a culmination of all my frustrations thus far."

"I thought so," Elain answered quietly. "You bottle up your feelings when you are hurt. Throw yourself into your tasks instead rather than wallow about it or engage in self-destructive behavior."

Lucien blinked at her in surprise. "You have been watching me."

"Of course I've been watching you," Elain said as if it were obvious. "How could I not? But also...I understand. You and I are the same in that right, I suppose."

Lucien didn't know what possessed him to do such a thing, but he crawled forward and laid his head on Elain's lap. She looked down at him and smiled serenely, stroking his hair, his cheek, his chin. Then she bent down and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Rest darling," Elain said sweetly. "No one can hurt you here." She continued to stroke him gently as his eyes drifted off, and the rest of his sleep was deep and pleasant.

#lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #elain archeron #pro elain archeron #elucien #pro elucien

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roalinda · 3 months

Text

☆Feedback Fest 2024☆

In honour of International Fanworks day on 15 Febraury ( you can find more info about it HERE by @transformativeworks ) I have decided to make a rec list as well. We should all support our creators with feedback and sharing after all. 😊

♧♧♧♧

Since this is my Harry Potter side blog, all the fics in my rec list are from Harry Potter.

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On Fire, But We can't feel a thing by @benjamin-ovich

Pairing: Sirius Black/James Potter

Summary: Sirius feels oddly faint, feels like his whole body has turned into vapour and he could just be blown away into nothingness at any moment. Nothing about this has felt real, not when Remus’ head popped into his fireplace after a whole year and not now that he’s telling him that James, his James, won’t remember who he is.

Rating: E

Words: 100, 790 ( In-progress )

♧♧♧♧

Tell me you love me, come back and haunt me by @gracelesslady23

pairing: James Potter/Sirius Black

Summary: Recently exonerated and looking for a new start, Sirius buys a flat to live in with his godson. However, it soon becomes clear they are not alone in the flat when Sirius begins receiving love messages on the mirrors and walls.

Sirius knows who he hopes is behind the messages, but he couldn’t possibly be right… or could he?

Rating: M

Words: 23,113 ( complete )

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Nom De Plume by @annabtg

Pairing: James Potter/Lily Evans

Summary: James Potter, renowned potioneer, has a secret side career as an erotica writer under the pen name of Scarlett Goldwing. When his latest book starts to take off, and Scarlett is asked to promote it at a public event, he has no other option but to recruit his colleague Lily Evans to pretend to be Scarlett. The only problem is, Lily Evans hates his guts… or does she?

Rating: E

Words: 46, 486 ( complete )

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Supernova by @siriuslyasorceress

pairing: James Potter/Sirius Black

Summary:

From the outside, it may look like James Potter has everything one needs to be happy. An abundance of talent, a prestigious job, a beautiful wife, an adorable child. So why can’t he let go of the past? Why does he still see silver eyes and a crooked smile when he dreams at night?

It's been six years. Six years since Sirius Black left England. He practically ran away from the country and hasn’t stopped running since. When he has to return to parts of his old life, he tries his best not to dwell on the past.

What luck then, that the past is one of the first people he runs into.

- “What, so the French sent a cursed Curse-breaker?”

There is humour in James’ voice, signalling that this isn’t meant to insult, merely falling into the way they always used to talk to each other. It’s almost too easy reciprocate, to answer with banter that still feels too familiar and pulls at Sirius to be released. He bites his tongue.

“I can assure you, cursed or not, I am still excellent at my job, Auror Potter,” he says pointedly.

Rating: M

Words: 73,120 ( in-progress )

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CRuSH by @heartofspells

Pairing: James Potter/Sirius Black

Summary: After travelling around the world as a Healer for four years, Sirius thinks it should be simple to return home to aid his best friend through his divorce. James needs him, and Sirius misses his family. With their history locked away inside dorm room beds and dark corners of a castle once called home, Sirius is determined to move forward, convinced James barely remembers it at all. Attempting to reestablish the friendship they'd always had, Sirius is set on pretending it never happened, at least until he realizes the years away haven't changed the weight of the powerful spell James holds over him.

rating: E

Words: 89, 578 ( in-progress )

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The exchange principle by @charmsandtealeaves

pairing: James Potter/Lily Evans

Summary: Partnering for Advanced Potions has some unexpected side effects when Lily and James wake up in the wrong body.

Rating: M

words: 8,788 ( complete )

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All monsters are human by ColorfulStabwound

Pairing: Teddy Lupin/James Sirius Potter

Summary: Teddy has always belonged to James, everyone knows that.

Rating: M

Words: 15, 274 ( complete)

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Out of my head ( when you are not around ) by quoichiant

Pairing: James Potter/Sirius Black

Summary:

Things are not particularly funny, but when he told Remus that he was going to get over James Potter -- for real this time -- Remus laughed. Because to everybody else, Sirius being in love with James is a fact of the universe.

The Earth turns, the sun rises, and James and Sirius come as a pair. Or Sirius is in love with his best friend, James is late to the party, and Peter is terrible at keeping secrets.

Rating: E

Words: 38, 038 ( In-progress )

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Line without a hook by @strugglequill

Pairing: James Potter/Sirius Black

Summary:

Four weeks, two days, and seven hours have passed since James hugged Sirius goodbye on the Hogwarts Express, a long summer of separation stretching ahead of them. With all of their other methods of contact blocked by Sirius's controlling parents, James shifts from disappointment to panic as a month passes with only silence in their two-way mirrors. Their separation just might kill James - or someone else.

After breaking into Number 12 Grimmauld Place with some hard-won cursebreaking and stolen Floo Powder, James wasn't expecting Sirius to ask him to fulfill a birth prophecy: rebirthing the House of stars with Black blood.

Song fic inspired by "Line Without a Hook" by Ricky Montgomery.

Rating: E

Words: 12, 189 ( complete)

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The host by Mothboss

Relationship: Spirit of Severus Snape and James Sirius Potter

Summary: James Sirius Potter was prepared right out of the gate to follow in the footsteps of his namesakes. The only thing that could likely have deterred him would have to have been one hell of a distraction.

Rating: G

Words: 9,528 ( complete)

#IFD2024 #feedback fest #international fanworks day #ao3 #Fic rec

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

Text

You asked for it, you receive it.

Deadweight pt2

It all happened too fast for any of their minds to comprehend what had just happened. What they did know was that you had seemingly died before their eyes as your dead ones stared up at the ceiling and beyond it towards the heavens.

You looked too content with death as your face wasn’t contorted in any sort of pain. It was oddly at serene, at peace almost, but that didn’t help heal them from the breathless they felt as though hit really, really hard in the gut; forcing them to kneel over.

Pike screeched in horror as she, followed by Keyleth, rushed to your sides, becoming visibly perturbed when they felt how dangerous cold your skin was when shifting you to a more comfortable position. They shared a unanimous look that read. ‘Were we already too late,’

Percy and Vex stood themselves a good distance away from Purvon’s sarcophagus and the armour that attacked you in Vex’s stead. Guilt and anguish are away at them as they could only bring themselves to watch as Keyleth and Pike struggle to heal you of your current predicament. Tears of frustration began to build up in their eyes and exhaustion heavily hindered their progress the longer the healing process went without much succession.

“Why the fuck isn’t anything helping?!” Keyleth cried, completely spent of her magic. The cleric gnome didn’t respond as she was hellbent on using everything in her arsenal but it seemed that not even the everlight was enough to bring you back either. “We have to keep trying…I just don’t want to think about potentially burying a friend today.” She confessed softly as the last flickers of her magic faded back into her palms. Indicating that she had pushed herself too hard and that it was time to give it a break.

You weren’t coming back and honestly they were beginning to think that you didn’t want to come back.

Scanlan, haven watched everything from afar in horror, scampered to where Grog was still holding the rope and shouted down the hole in desperation. “VAX GET YOUR ARSE UP HERE, WE’VE GOT A PROBLEM!” The half elf soon clambered himself out of the hole, disgruntled. “I was only gone for 30 seconds, what the fuck could you have possibly done-“ immediately as soon as the words left his lips, his throat immediately ran dry as Vax eyed the situation before him.

It seemed as though crawling out of that hole only lead him into a form hell; his sister and Percy were now stood just behind a hysterically crying Keyleth and an defeated looking Pike like looming guardians. Yet he could see the look of guilt and shame easily on their faces as they too tried to conceal their own emotions poorly.

He watched as his sister crumple next to your motionless form, grasping onto your hand so tightly Vax swore she’d pull it clean off. He also watched as Percy knelt beside your other side and bowed his head whilst his shoulders heaved uncontrollably as teardrops splattered the floor between his thighs. “Why them,” Vax heard Percy speak, “God why them, they didn’t do anything to deserve this! They are…they were too good for this life…too good for us.”

In that moment everything clicked for him. Something happened to you and that something prevented Keyleth or Pike from healing/reviving you. The half elf looked over at Grog and Scanlan who had yet to speak a single word to him about any of what just happened. Neither of them looked to have the heart in doing so and with that Vax moved himself closer to where you were but felt his footfalls slowed down the moment he caught a glimpse of your dead eyes staring up past him and at the ceiling; seemingly at peace with your choice of death.

“What happened.” Vax said so softly at first for anyone to hear him until he clenched his firsts and rose his voice to a heartbroken sob. “What the hell fucking happened, why aren’t they getting up?!” No one could bring themselves to meet his eyes but whilst no one spoke up, it didn’t take a genius to recognise the mood change, the period of mourning, the prolonged solemn silences out of respect.

You were gone and they weren’t fast enough to stop death from taking you.

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gevauxie · 11 months

Text

A Sad Love, Deep In Your Eyes

Forty days and forty nights – that’s all it should take. That's all they'd said it would take, back when he’d first asked for the instructions on how to properly grow a TARDIS. Though, to be fair, that was several lifetimes ago… for him and for them.

“Forty days and forty nights, if you trim and treat it right; bend the bark and warp the root, a century for some, but for us: a shoot.”

Well, it does what it says on the tin, the Doctor had thought. Molto Bene. Easy as pie.

The rest is available to read on AO3:

Or, continue here on Tumblr:

And it really should’ve been that simple: fire up the warp drives inside of the UNIT labs, allow for approximately 960 hours of interpolated gravity suspension, and voilà. That, and with Donna’s expertise hurrying things along – ‘shatter-fry the plasma shell’, indeed – they should’ve had an almost full grown TARDIS in their hands by now. Vague Timelord poetry, or no.

‘Forty days and forty nights, if you trim and treat it right…’ etc, etc. They had done their share of waiting, he and Rose. They’d more than had their fill of it. Now, the clock was close to striking on the final hour on the final day, and the end was in sight; the Doctor gazed over at their rudimentary petri dish, watching the progress of their experiment as it grew close to its completion.

The piece of TARDIS coral, however, was no larger than on the day they had first begun. It remained obstinately small, even now; despite their best efforts, and even with Donna’s advice, it was still premature. Which could only mean one thing. As he’d come to realise this – slowly, over the past few days and weeks – coiling disappointment had begun to settle low in the Doctor’s gut.

From his chair in the laboratory’s observation room, he ran a thumb absentmindedly around the rim of his coffee cup. The liquid inside had long grown cold. Before him, through the wide lab window, he could see his own reflection staring back. His face was only caught in half-shadow; the gauntness of his cheekbones were obvious. He’d been getting by for the last forty days on precious little sleep and very little food. Which, for humans, apparently didn’t go down very well.

Beyond the window, the small piece of coral glowed brief and bright before dimming once again. It was on a constant, cyclical loop, changing, and mutating. It was quite pretty if you stared at it long enough – not that the Doctor let anyone near, except for Rose. Even then, the pair of them tended to work in shifts. Being this close to an infantile piece of Time Vortex, and both being ostensibly human, would have driven them mad if overexposed. It was best to treat this small piece of coral with the reverence one would exhibit in the presence of a nuclear reactor.

Forty days. Forty long, restless nights. That’s how long it had been since the beach. That’s how long it had been since the departure of his other self. How long it had been since he’d told Rose what he truly felt, and she’d–

The Doctor heard the door behind him creak open, and Rose slid her way into the cramped laboratory booth.

"I know what I said." She was on the phone. Her voice was firm, and in charge; a flicker of fondness echoed through him to hear it. "Check one more time. Thank you, Sergeant – yes, yes. Thanks." She clicked the phone off and deftly slipped it into her back jeans’ pocket. Her smile, reflected behind him in the wide shaft of glass, looked as tired as he felt.

"Sorry," she breathed. "Duty calls."

The Doctor kept his back to her, and his gaze firmly forward. He couldn’t turn to face her, and he couldn’t afford to look at her properly, in case she saw the truth of their situation in the pit of his irises. Forty days, they’d been stuck here so far – and it had seemed worthwhile, endurable even, when their way out had been mapped out before them. But now?

The piece of coral glowed bright again, endless in its bleat for survival. And slow. Pointlessly, helplessly slow.

"Not long now, yeah?"

At the sound of Rose’s voice, the Doctor's eyes shot up to meet hers, reflection to reflection. Even beneath the fluorescent lab lights, she looked warm and lovely and full of breathless excitement.

"Yeah," he replied, curling his hand round so that his coffee cup was hugged closer to his chest. "Not long."

Rose thumped down heavily into the chair next to his.

"I know my shift wasn’t due to start ‘til four," she said, blowing the stray blonde hairs from her face, "but I couldn’t miss this. Big moment, and all that."

"Mmhm." The Doctor hoped that his non-committal hum didn’t betray the complete and utter desolation that was coursing its way through his body, and gripping him tight, limb to bloody limb.

"What’s gonna happen?" She asked. "I’m not being funny, but it still looks the same size as when we started."

"Oh, you know. Timey-wimey. Wibbly-wobbly."

She turned with a bemused, half-laugh. "Sorry, you what?"

He shifted away. His cold, closed body language was the very opposite of her pleasant, friendly one. He didn’t answer her or explain what he meant. He merely pressed a forefinger against one eye, rubbing it into its socket, tired and itchy and red-raw.

The silence stretched on for a few moments before she broke it again, gazing off through the observation window. Her voice sounded far away and wistful.

"So, when it's finally done... where shall we go first?" She leaned back in her chair and pulled one of her knees close to her chest, her chin resting gently on top of the denim.

Before them, the coral continued to glow, fading in and fading out.

Where shall we go first?

At this brief and seemingly innocent question, the Doctor flinched.

By the Gods, this was ironic – he’d been hinging this entire experiment on a set of instructions that he’d received more than a millennia ago. Given the predilection that the Timelords had for lying through their stinking teeth, however, he was a fool to have believed even a single word of it. He was a fool to have trusted a single thing that they’d said – because, alive or dead, their words were as reliable as smoke. They were just as fleeting as their predilections; just as hollow.

Fuck it, he should just tell her. He should just man up and explain: 'Rose, we have no TARDIS. I’m sorry.' Because what was the point in stringing out the inevitable? What was the point in stalling, or hiding, or running from the truth?

He should just tell her… but fuck it, he couldn’t. He was the same coward that he’d always been. And a damn liar, too.

"Actually, there might be a bit of a, um–" he cleared his throat, trying to swallow down the wash of guilt, "–a delay."

He stood, rolling back the wheels of his office chair. He swept over towards the coffee maker, but as he placed his cup to the side, he noticed a revealing tremor in his hands; he gazed down, watching, horrified, with his fingers outstretched beneath him.

"A delay?" Rose called from behind. "What d’you mean?"

The Doctor clenched his fingers into a fist and quickly slipped his hands into his trouser pockets.

"Oh, just a delay." He glanced around – he needed a way out, before she noticed what was truly wrong, and before she questioned him further. The walls were closing in. "Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. No more than a few hours, give or take."

The tremor was growing worse. He turned, and his gaze fell on the door.

"I, ah – I’m going to be cheeky and ditch the end of my shift, actually. Don’t mind taking the reins, do you, Miss Tyler?"

"What? Why–"

"Need a break," was all he could manage, before the door swung shut behind him and he’d escaped out into the coolness of the corridor outside.

Yes, that’s all he was: a liar and a coward. And a terrible ex-Time Lord, too.

______________________________

There had been a time, once, when the Doctor had been able to sense when he was dreaming.

Now, the shapes controlled him; they moved in clumps, formless, but with voices that haunted each of his waking nights. He heard the brief snatch of a child’s shout on the wind; he hiked his way through an empty field of long, red grass, the back of his neck hot beneath the summer sun. He felt them, those long-lost emotions: they were cloudy, and indistinct, but as relentless as the crash of the ocean. They threatened their way up from the inside, from places unseen. He felt the tension and the mounting fear, laying somewhere half-forgotten, clawing out from his chest. It was more than enough to choke.

Then, amidst the grey senselessness of his nightmare, his own words whispered back to him: Rose.

He awoke, as usual, in a cold dread sweat.

He and Rose had been sharing the same bed. Never at the same time – their shifts wouldn’t allow for it – but it was definitely for both of them. They were two parts of the same whole, but which were currently revolving out of time; they were deliberately and relentlessly out of sync, like the parts of a broken clock, trying to tick together but never quite managing it.

How was he going to tell her? How was he going to explain to her the source of his fears?

Because the truth of the matter was, the TARDIS wasn’t going to be finished in forty days and forty nights. It wasn’t going to be finished in forty thousand. That piece of coral was going to continue its cyclical loop, glowing in and fading out, until long after he and Rose were dead. They were stuck here. They had reached the end of the line, and had rinsed through every last distraction. There was nothing left but the gulf of emotion that spanned between them. There was nothing left except for… this. Something intangible, and as yet unspoken.

There had been a time when the Doctor wouldn’t have been able to delight in a life left stranded in stasis; there had been a time where he would’ve felt nothing but skittish revulsion at the thought of domesticity and passive solitude. But now, that wasn’t the problem. It wasn’t his old, earlier fears threatening to strangle him while he slept. It was a new kind of fear; it was a fear that was entirely bound-up with his feelings for her.

Because without a TARDIS, he couldn't fathom why she – bright and shining and beautiful – would accept him like this. If he stayed still too long then she might notice; she might finally see that, past the extravagance of the stars and the promising allure of adventure, he was nothing more than just a man.

I have nothing to offer her but myself.

He closed his eyes on a groan and rolled sideways. The sheets smelled faintly of her perfume: tangy, and with a hint of violets. He stretched out, reaching across the bed, feeling into the space where she wasn’t.

The scent of her helped to chase off the nightmares and he was able to wrench himself up to a seated position. With great effort, he swallowed down his incessant fear. Instead, he jackbooted in a determined resolve.

Pull it together, man.

He stood, and shrugged on a shirt. He had to tell her that their experiment had failed – that it was over. He had to tell her now, before it was too late, and before he lost his nerve again.

______________________________

Rose sat alone in the lab.

Today, her bottled anxiety felt more volatile than usual; her skin glowed with a sickly sheen and her hands fiddled with the zip on her jacket. She sighed heavily, staring out at the piece of TARDIS coral as it faded in and faded out, and tried fruitlessly to wrestle her emotions under control.

For God’s sake, girl, get a grip.

She settled back into her chair, letting it spin aimlessly. The room around her was already covered in both her and the Doctor’s forty-day old grunge: trailing cables and electricity wires were laden over and under pretty much everything; there were half-empty coffee cups that littered the small desk and the long, chrome-topped counter that served as their inhouse kitchen area; and there were books. Books, books, books. Books on the worktops, books on the floor. The Doctor browsed them each – at least seven at a time, she'd come to notice – with a hunger so fervent that it bordered on the obscene. That was all he did, nowadays: he read and he worked, perpetually caffeinated.

Rose picked up one of the nearby texts on quantum computing, moving it to the side with an indulgent sort of fondness. The Doctor had started this one recently, and then had promptly grown bored and discarded it in favour of something new.

Her thoughts turned sour. Her hand clenched, with an almost painful tightness, around the edge of the book’s spine.

Was that what he was, then? Bored… of her?

The Doctor hadn't said anything to her – anything of substance – since they'd come back from the beach. In the past forty days the Doctor had been quieter than Rose had ever known him. He seemed to avoid her in every way he could, skittering off like a startled colt every time she got closer than a few yards. It was as if he was trying to keep something hidden – trying and failing, it would seem, as his cold shoulder became harder and harder to bear.

Rose could still feel the memory of his lips against hers, and a brief return of pressure, as if it had only just happened. The day on the beach was seared into her brain, painful; in a lot of ways, she was still out there with him, standing stranded on the long stretch of sand.

It had certainly felt like he’d kissed her back. But since then, the Doctor hadn’t mentioned it once – hadn’t dared even broach the topic. Instead he chose to leave her wanting, waiting, and confused. And every day, he had the nerve to show her affection in all ways except the obvious: he'd make her a cup of coffee for when her shift started, but nothing else; he'd leave his scent in her bedsheets, but nothing further than that. He was a ghost in all but name.

"Shit." Rose swore, letting out a frustrated moan. Her eyes were screwed tight shut. She bent over the side of the desk, hand pressed flat to her sternum, as if to keep in all the hurt.

Her mind was weighed down with memories. She could feel the absence of his mouth more than she remembered the sensation. Her breath caught, as it always did, in the spaces he left behind.

She was stuck. She was stuck longing for something that he clearly couldn't give, and it made her want to vomit. God, she’d been dense. Had she truly thought that he’d want to stop – that just because he was human now, he’d be content to give it all up, and turn his back on the stars, all for her? She was a child to him. She was meaningless, and dwarfed in comparison; she was a stupid, primordial ape still running around in the dirt.

Beside her, the piece of coral glowed bright, before fading once again. It was stuck in its own loop, its quiet alien cry mirroring her own.

Rose scrambled back up to a sitting position when the Doctor crashed his way into the room, less than half an hour later. He swung open the door with a resounding thump. He hovered in the hallway, silhouetted against the outside light.

"Rose."

She glanced upwards, big doe eyes meeting his, which were just as wide and glistening and full of tentative fear–

"Yeah?"

He strode over. When he was at her side, he reached out, fingers beneath her chin. He gently tilted her face towards him to see it better; his own expression became marred with pain when he realised that she’d been crying. Rose immediately tried to scrub away the evidence, but his next words kept her frozen.

"It hasn’t worked. I’m sorry."

She blinked back at him.

"What hasn’t worked?" Her voice was a low, husky whisper.

He hesitated, and his frown deepened. Then, moving with a nimble swiftness, he came to crouch beside her. His left hand never moved away from her face – instead, it grasped her more firmly, tenderly cupping her cheek beneath his palm.

"The piece of coral in the laboratory will never grow." His words were flat; monotone. "Not in our lifetime. We have no ship, and no means of travel. We’re stuck on Earth, and you're... you're stuck with me, like this. I’m sorry."

His eyes were gazing up at her, imploring. He began to stroke her skin with the side of his thumb. Rose leaned into the feel of it. But before she could say anything, or respond in any way, he abruptly let go of her.

His hand balled itself into a fist and he pressed it to his forehead, slamming it against his skull with pent-up frustration. She could hear him breathing in and out, hard and ragged, as if he were trying to calm himself. "I don’t know why," he growled, through clenched teeth.

He then stood, and began to pace around the small office. He was moving fast, and his body was jittery with bursting, violent anger.

"I did exactly what they instructed. I did exactly what they said. I followed it to the letter." He continued pacing, from left to right, back and forth. "Those pretentious bastards all but lied to me about how to accomplish it in the first place–"

Below him, Rose sat back in her chair, watching him with her lips slightly parted. The Doctor’s growing temper began to heat the room; it zipped around them, thick like static.

"–the whole lot of them are utterly incapable of saying anything if it isn’t a fucking riddle, or a metaphor, or often both–"

He continued ranting, talking in a loud, disjointed rush. As he ranted, he reached up and pushed both hands through his hair, making the ends stick out wildly.

"We were this close," he moaned. "This close. And I wanted to show you, Rose, I really did. I wanted – all of it!"

He kept pacing, kept ranting. She hadn’t seen this side of his anger in a long time. She hadn’t been this close to him to feel the way his emotions could burn, flickering on and then off, like he was repeatedly punching a light switch.

At once, he stopped moving, and whipped round to face her. He dragged his fingers down the sides of his face, pulling at the taut, tired skin.

"I was going to take you everywhere. We were going to hike the Valleys of Atrusca. I was going to show you the birth of the Medusa Cascade. I was going to take you to dinner on the twin moons of Azur."

"Doctor–"

He ranted over her, continuing on. But his voice was softer now, having lost its angry edge; but in its place was something worse – he now sounded lost, and full of choked, guilt-ridden sorrow.

"They’re in a permanent state of waxing crescents," he said. "And there’s this promenade, outside of the restaurant, at the edge of the walled gardens. It leads out into the Palatine Sea."

He paused, drawing in a long and shuddering breath. His eyes flickered to hers; in them, he was searching for something. Some kind of solace to which he could cling. Rose was sat stunned beneath him; had he really been worried that - without a TARDIS - he wouldn't be enough for her?

"You would’ve…" He swallowed. "You would’ve looked lovely in the water, underneath the starlight. We could've stayed there. For as long as you wanted. For weeks on end, if need be."

Rose took a moment to let his meaning sink in. She took a moment to let his words – his true, undying promise of affection – soak into the very bones of her. And then,

'I only have one life, Rose Tyler. I could spend it with you. If you want.'

She stood, slowly, from her chair. She crossed the room. She raised her hand and pressed the tips of her fingers against his shirt – right at the place where she could feel the beat of his one, singular heart.

"I don’t need starlight," she whispered. "I don’t need the Medusca Cascade, or even a TARDIS. I just need y–"

His own fear was clearly drowning him; he cut her off, unable to let her finish. "Don’t." Beneath her touch, his eyes slid closed. His frown was so deep it appeared to be etched into his very skin.

"Without you," he began, speaking in a low and solemn voice, "in that other world, in our old parallel universe, I went… too far. I did too much. The loss of you, it ruined me."

Compassion hit Rose like a wave.

"I know." She stretched up, teetering on the tips of her trainers. She held onto his forearms so that she wouldn’t fall, and softly butted her forehead against his. "Trust me, I know."

The silence stretched between them for a long, endless minute.

The Doctor's eyes had fluttered back open, and he was gazing down at her, clenching his jaw so tight it must’ve hurt. "Sometimes I think the Timelords live too long. It's better this way. To be human. But I can't do it... on my own."

She didn’t know what to say to that. So, instead, she pressed her mouth forward and onto his. Their kiss was hesitant; slow, and unsure. Rose's balance wavered but he caught her, wrapping his arms around her waist with a comforting ease, as he had so many times before. She’d forgotten the way that he could say so much with just a touch.

Reluctantly, she pulled her face away from him. Her eyes blurred with the sting of unshed tears. "I need to know, Doctor. I need to know for definite–"

"What?"

"You honestly don’t want that life? Are you honestly okay with all this – with just being human?"

"Yes."

He said it with such conviction, such sincerity, that she stilled completely beneath him.

"This body may seem new," he continued, voice low and urgent as he pulled her closer. "Technically it is new, all things considered – but I’m not. I’m tired, Rose. I’m tired of the constant travelling and the endless fighting. I don’t want to roam. Not anymore."

She leaned her forehead against his again. She let out a long, shaky exhale. Relief – so acute it was almost painful – flooded through her.

After all this time, she now knew.

He’d been truthful, down on the beach. He’d meant every word, every moment. He’d simply misunderstood her, in turn – and he’d spent the past forty days and forty nights thinking that she didn’t want him. Stupid, stupid. In fact, the thought of him believing that she wouldn’t love him without the rest of the Universe to back him up was so outrageously stupid that Rose couldn’t help but let out a small, disbelieving laugh. Her eyes met his; they shared a wordless look.

"Come on," she smiled, the laugh still lingering in the air between them. "We’ve been cooped up inside this bunker for too long. We’re going out."

He tilted his head. "Out?" He asked. "Out where?"

"Well, I can’t promise you any moons of Asda, or anything–"

"Azur," he corrected. His frown then melted, and in its place, her favourite crooked smile lifted the corner of his lips.

"Mmm," she hummed back. "Sure. Whatever."

She pulled away from him, and began tugging him towards the door.

"I can’t promise you any of that, Doctor, but I can promise you a home. If you’ll have it – and have me."

As she pressed her way through the office door and into the hallway outside, Rose wasn’t prepared for the force of the second kiss when it came. He all but melted his entire body against her; her back was shoved up against the wall and both of his hands were tight against her cheeks as he pulled her mouth in towards him. His tongue was hungry, searching; an abrupt and thankful plea of – yes, yes I’ll have you. I’ll have anything you give me. Forever.

He pulled away with a gasp. It took a long moment for the fervour in his eyes to calm down, and for Rose to reassert where the touch of his body ended and the pull of gravity began.

Eventually, he broke the quiet.

His gaze was adoring now; any hint of sorrow had long since faded away. "So, where shall we go?"

Rose, doing her best to regain her composure and act natural, huffed her hair out of her face.

"I don’t know," she said. "I was thinking… chips?"

At that, he threw back his head and laughed – and what a sound. It was warm and loud and full of endless hope; it filled every part of her, swelling her heart to twice its usual size. All that she’d been through was suddenly worth it; all that she’d suffered, and all the nights she’d waited. Home was here.

The doctor turned, and they both began to walk off down the corridor. He slipped his hand effortlessly into hers, linking their fingers together.

"Okay," he grinned. "Chips."

_________

This is my submission for the Tentoo x Rose Microfic challenge by @tentoorosemicrofics

The prompts I chose were: Moon, Nightmare, and Worry/Misunderstanding.

#tentoo x rose #doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #tentoorose #june microfic challenge #(This did NOT fit within the 3k word limit in the slightest because I have the 'too-much' gene #and I've been pretty loose/liberal with the prompts. Please forgive me!)

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ametrinearrows · 4 months

Text

Trip Up

The anticipation hung heavily in the air as YNN Snap stepped into the ring, readying herself to face off against Carmella. The cheers of the crowd in the stands echoed around her, fueling her determination. Little did she know that this match would almost become the biggest turning point in her friendship with her best friend, Corey.

The match progressed in YNN's favor but she could sense something amiss as she watched Corey stand from his seat at the commentary table and walk over to ringside. It was out of the norm for him and the fact that it was his wife she was facing only made the gut feeling she had worse. Suddenly, when the referee couldn't see what he was doing, Graves grabbed YNN's foot causing her to fall. Upon landing a sharp pain ran through her arm as she tried to catch herself.

Carmella, ever the opportunist, swiftly delivered a match ending move, securing the victory. Fury mixed with physical and emotional pain welled up within the YHC haired girl as she realized what had just transpired. Her emotions consumed her as she held her hurt arm to her body to stabilize it. She turned to Mr. Graves, her eyes burning with hurt and anger. "Why would you do that?!” YNN questioned as silence fell over the audience. "I can't believe you!"

Her words stung him like venom as she slid out of the ring and walked up the ramp to the backstage area. Corey watched as the medics met her on the stage and the guilt hit him like a tidal wave when they escorted YNN to the back. He never meant to hurt her in any capacity, he just knew what he was told to do and he did it. But he hurt his best friend in the process and that was worse than any blow he could ever take.

After the show concluded, Corey retreated backstage, seething with guilt and regret of what he had done earlier in the night. He knew he had made a grave mistake, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing his friendship with YNN. So, he went in search of the YEC eyed girl.

Corey treaded through the maze of corridors of the backstage area, searching for any sign of the YHC haired girl. He searched everywhere he could think of from the clinical station to her locker room. He even stopped to check with Stephanie and Triple H in case they had seen her but had no luck.

When he finally found her, YNN was walking out of the arena with her left arm in a temporary sling. His guess was she was waiting until the morning to get it thoroughly checked out. The girl was known to push off going to a medical center if she thought the injury wasn't bad enough.

"YNN!" Corey called out to her right before she could make her exit. "YNN, I'm so sorry. I didn't know you didn't know that I was going to do that." He said as he finally caught up to her.

YNN rolled her eyes. "Of course, I didn't know, Core. " She said as she turned around to face him. "If I had known my arm wouldn't be in this death trap and I wouldn't have to go for X-rays at eight o'clock in the morning. All I was told was that I was supposed to score that match, nothing else.”

"YNN, I swear I didn't know. They told me to do it over the headsets and that it had been gone over with you and Leah." He explained with a guilty look across his features.

The YEC eyed girl sighed. "So, you really had no clue that we didn't know?" she questioned.

Graves shook his head. "I swear to it."

YNN sighed once more, the feelings of anger she held against the man subsiding. "I believe you."

"I didn't mean to get you hurt either. I'm sorry. Leah has already chewed me out for it too." He explained.

"Did she know that they were having you trip me up like that?" She asked.

Corey shook his head. "She's up there tearing them a new one right now and I'm sure that Steph and Hunter aren't too far behind her."

YNN's eyes widened at her best friend's words. "Are you saying they told no one but you?" He could practically see the steam pour out of her ears. "Those sons of bitches have something else coming to them when I get my hands on them."

Graves reached out and placed his hand on her unhurt arm, and like many times before, he started running it up and down it in a comforting motion. "Trust me, sweetheart, I have a few words of my own for them."

Just then, Carmella came running up to the two of them. "My god, YNN, are you alright? I saw your face when you landed, how bad is it?"

YNN shrugged slightly. "Med team said they suspect it's a fractured radial bone, but I won’t know for sure until the morning.' she said, which made Corey feel worse than he already did.

"Damn it, YNN, I'm sorry." He apologized. "I didn't think you would get hurt."

"Core, will you stop apologizing?" She asked. "I think established that it wasn't entirely your fault."

"Let the man apologize," Carmella said and placed her hands on her hips. "He at least could have given you a little bit of a warning before he just, you know, grabbed your ankle like that."

"Yeah, well, I kind of already hurt his ego a bit on national television so I think we can call it even." YNN stated and looked back over at Corey who just nodded wordlessly. "And, God forgive me, if they make this whole debacle into a storyline, I'll kill them. I don't mind wrestling my friends, I don't necessarily mind getting hurt and my ass handed to me from time to time. But I don't like that they almost tore apart a friendship that predates and will outdate my time in this business like they are playing Gods. It doesn't sit right with me. If he hasn't heard from Steph already, Vince will hear about this."

Both Corey and Carmella nodded at their friend's statement, knowing just how she felt. But it was Graves who was the one to speak. "Couldn't agree more, but let's get your arm better first."

"Right." Leah said. "Dumbass actions can wait. Your well-being is more important."

YNN nodded and adjusted the bag that weighed down her right side and Corey was quick to take it from her. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I'm ready to get out of here anyway."

"Okay. Let's get you out of here then." He said and led both the ladies out to the rental car.

#ametrine arrows #ametrine arrows imagines #wwe #wwe x reader #wwe imagine #wwe imagines #Monday night raw #smackdown #Corey graves #Corey graves x reader #Corey graves imagine #Corey graves imagines #Corey graves fanfiction #wwe fanfiction

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pagegirlintraining · 6 months

Text

New Dirty Dancing Update

Yay 🥰 I’m so excited for y’all to read this one. So here, have another snippet!

“And one, two, cha cha cha. Where’s your frame, baby? I don’t think you’re supposed to touch my ass here.”

Wille’s response was a quiet hum, almost as if to say, ‘and who’s gonna stop me?’. He rolled his eyes fondly when Simon continued in the same teasing tone, “And what are those whipped cream arms doing here? I need merengue from you. Come on, Wille.”

They were in the dance studio, the same place they’d used to practice for the Sheldrake routine, having a quick afternoon lesson on the Cha Cha. Except Simon seemed to be the only one planning on actually dancing a proper Cha Cha. Wille was more intent on letting his hands wander to whichever parts of Simon’s body he could reach, instead of actually teaching him. It was rare that he’d break out of his professional role when it came to their dance lessons, ever eager for Simon to make good progress. Which was all the more reason for Simon to feel his skin tingle at every touch, his chest fluttering and his gut stirring at being so obviously desired. Wille didn’t have to know that, though. Not yet, at least.

“Where are you going?” he asked now as Wille had started to kiss down the side of his neck, pretending to be fully oblivious to his intentions. “You’re invading my dance space. This—“, he stepped back to gesture in a small radius around his upper body, “—is my dance space. And that is yours. Now, let’s hold that frame and cha cha, shall we, baby?”

To find out if Simon manages to actually learn the Cha Cha, click here 😏

I hope you guys will like it ☺️ Beware, though. She’s a bit of an angsty one.

#like real angsty #but also sugary sweet #i promise #young royals #yr fanfic #wilmon #dirty dancing #au #wille x simon #simon x wille #fanfiction

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asterz-playz-official · 11 months

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Wait what if Michael meets Jude Perry instead of Jon

Yes, yes I know, “oh no but then Jon won’t get marked by the desolation! It’ll wreck the story!” Hear me out.

They fuckin hated Gertrude’s guts cause she screwed stuff up for them.

Jude knows Michael’s the archivist, though the vibe doesn’t come through immediately, cause… well, spiral.

Michael also knows she’s important, but I think while Jon gets information in the form of words, Michael’s knowledge-grab stuff actually is more visual/vibe-based, cause that’s what his brain works best with. Processing words is annoying.

So instead of the information dropping into his head as “Jude Perry- member of the cult of the lightless flame” like a computer spitting words out of a search engine, his eyes “focus” again and he sees the symbol of the lightless flame cult somewhere on her, and remembers a bunch of random images he’d felt from statements she was involved in in some way.

The mental image folder goes away, and the lady sits down.

Introduces herself, though she doesn’t need to, and holds out hand for handshake.

But Michael isn’t comfortable with handshakes. (This is in italics simply cause I realized how amazingly perfect this is, and it didn’t even click until just now- I love it when this happens :D)

She assumes it’s cause flame cult but he’s like “no no I just don’t…” *Buffering, trying to figure out how to explain indirectly* “hands. They don’t feel good.”

She bursts out laughing.

The conversation goes well enough. She notices he’s not being too prying about his questions, I think, and he warms up a little bit to her, (pun unintentional but still totally there and perfect).

I feel like Jon’s method of asking just has the vibes of ‘Tell me or I’ll rip it out of you’, (cause he WILL), while Michael’s is… well, more indirect, and what basically ends up happening is that the person doesn’t even know what he did until the conversation’s over. Like casting “friends” on a person and then asking a bunch of questions, or something.

So Michael’s just got a better charisma buff than Jon, basically. /j

Anyway, they actually have a proper conversation about stuff, and Michael tries his best to explain a bit about how he got hurt by Gertrude. (Not all of it. He’s not sure he should, just yet.)

Jude’s internally like “oh fuck yes, vengeful ex-assistant who’s literally in the most important position at the institute, came to me for shit, this is Christmas!”

And then he remembers something.

And… nervously — mentioning she doesn’t have to talk about it if she doesn’t want to — asks her if they… killed Emma Harvey.

“Nope- … we did kill her assistant… that one little candle that Harvey went and burned out too fast… don’t remember her name, though, but I sure do remember her face!” *cackling*

He starts nervously unraveling the napkin.

Jude asks him what’s wrong.

Honestly… he doesn’t know. She’s been giving him answers, sort of, and she doesn’t seem totally evil, but.

“Can you ever… not hurt a person?”

“Only if you want that fire to burn out.”

And proceeds to explain herself similarly-ish to how she did in the original episode.

As the story progresses, Michael can feel his nails getting sharper, and the ends of his hair becoming more tangled and spiraling outwards just a little. He… understands the feelings she’s describing, and it’s…

They’re… not the answers he’d wanted.

But they were the answers that he’d been expecting, on some level.

She seems to kind of snap out of her zone once the story ends, and notices his hands, and the other bits of him that have bent and twisted a little.

She looks… a little bemused, but in an almost curious way.

“So you’re working with two now, archivist?”

He asks what he means, and she laughs, joking about him not knowing the basics, at which he gets really frustrated, and says something along the lines of “well, I’ve got someone to blame for that, haven’t I.”

She grins and says she likes his spirit (or something) and tells him he might want to use a flamethrower the next time he wants to go on a rampage. (Possibly a suggestion like “hey you should totally join our desolation cult, you’d be great” I think?)

(Unknown to either of them, Michael’s appearance got noticed by someone.)

Michael’s already been touched by the Vast, so it’s Jon’s turn in the falling chair. Maybe Michael manages to get a message to him through the mirrors? Not sure.

Also Jude goes up and is like “by the way.” And puts a hand on his shoulder, initially like a friendly pat, but it quickly starts to burn. “That’s for tricking me into spilling things.”

…Ow.

Though tbh it could have been worse- if she’d really been angry or hated him, she might’ve planted her hand(s) on his face or something. Shoulder’s not as painful. Nice one, Michael! /pos

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mischiefmaker615 · 1 year

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Maid to Honor (Loki Love Story)

Summary: This job wasn't quite what she was expecting when Fury assigned her to 'assist' the God of Mischief, where the pampered prince only saw that word as a fancy way of saying Slave. She's headstrong, but so is he, so will his new growing feelings towards the winged female make things better or worse? or will things go a whole different route entirely?

Rating: R story

Fury wasn't one to really give ridiculous orders, or at least ones that didn't have a purpose to them, but there's a first for everything right? Rose wasn't quite the one to refuse an order, mainly because she was a bit to shy to say no and went along with things, but for the first time in her life, she really wish she had.

The deal was this: she was to be undercover, a maid if you will but assistant seemed a bit less demeaning to the title for.. The God of Mischief. Loki had been allowed to stay on Midgard, a few months after the battle of New York only to be faced with a choice; return to face Asgard's punishment or remain here on earth under strict watch. The second option was eventually picked but day by day the god questioned whether he had made the right choice.

As time went by, threats had been popping up which meant that SHIELD and the Avengers were staying busy, to busy to baby sit. why not a cell forever? Fury had eventually proposed the idea on Rose that had brought her here finally to face Loki for the first time. The idea? act as his ma- assistant only to secretly keep an eye on him as a representative for SHIELD. They aren't the bad guys, they want people to succeed and be free, but freedom had to be earned.

About a week ago, they had moved Loki to his own establishment, a building that quite resembled Stark's tower but not as.. glamorous. If his behavior improved and no funny business was to be seen, Rose was to keep a diary every evening, reporting to SHIELD his progress and the results were to be weighed on how closer he was to be earning his freedom.

Boss and Assistant. that was all. Help with the human things he didn't quite understand and don't argue to reduce risk of danger, after all, it was just her there, and backup might not always get there on time if she needed. which was exactly why Fury had picked her, she was capable. Or at least that's how he saw her, she merely stood in the elevator wondering what the hell she was doing there again and why she had agreed to all this in the first place.

'i am not a slave, just a helper.' was the sentence she repeated to herself, already getting a headache as she prepared to face the god of mischief himself. again.. this was going to be a whole new experience for him in the long run.

*ding*

The elevator doors slid open, Rose stepping out into the main living room, feeling awkward in her plain jeans and a T-shirt (having to leave her uniform and all SHIELD behind in this undercover job) where she faced Loki's back to her in his usual armor and leather's attire. The only thing she did manage to keep hidden was her wings that she carefully had got into a folding position and they lay pressed against her back tightly underneath her shirt; it was a usual thing when she wasn't on the field.

“A visitor?” He asked, turning around slowly to face her where piercing green eyes met curious blue ones for the first time. They dragged themselves down over her, already making herself feel a bit uncomfortable as a smirk came to his lips at what he saw. ''what exactly brings you here in this humble disguise of a prison?'' he asked, his tone sounding as if it was poking her in the chest where her cheeks reddened ever so slightly. of course.. why wouldn't he remember me..

''my name is Rose.. i have been sent here to act as you're assistant and that's all.'' her voice was careful, knowing that's all she should say but his eyes almost made her want to spill her guts by force.

''a maid?'' Loki almost laughed.

''an assistant.'' she quickly corrected, already hating the related words that weren't even really related.

''a slave.''

''Assistant.'' she said, a bit more firmly with her tone indicating that she already was getting annoyed. that didn't take long.

Loki nodded and chuckled. “Ah yes, tend to my needs.” He said, using air quotations. he walked over to her and furrowed his eye brows, quite taken how beautiful she was the closer he got. ”don’t you really mean watch over? Like an angel in your Christianity religion...or spy on...” he smirked and walked over slowly. at least he wasn't stupid, but she was to not confirm her real position here as she would remain known as his assistant, rather than his baby sitter. “Am I not right Rose?” He asked quietly. His hands clasped themselves behind him as he approached her, an amused look on his face at her mild shock of when he said her name. how much did Fury tell him on her way over here?

''..whatever you need done, i am here to assist.'' she told him slowly, knowing he was waiting for her to slip up, so by her careful words she might have a lasting chance.

''pity, and here i actually thought someone was here to see me'' he smirked, sarcasm dripping from his tone as he turned to sit at the best, arms resting on either side of him as a finger tapped on the arm on the chair in thought, eyes never leaving her.

'as if someone would actually come to visit you'. ''Many might not want to go through the trouble considering your current reputation here..'' honestly, not the best sentence that could have left her mouth as his eyes lowered a bit and he patted the arm of the chair.

“Come here...Before you do, close the door..” his voice deepened after each syllable. He watched her closely before saying, a bit louder this time, in almost a bark. “Now”

Rose stayed put, unable to flinch due to many past interrogations she's had to sit through, but his tone and demands were quite surprising. 'don't argue, we need you to remain safe if tasks aren't threatening.' Fury's words echoed in her head. his tone was a bit harsh but there wasn't exactly anything that said danger right? Slowly, she moved across the room and shut the door that she assumed lead to the rest of the house, bedrooms maybe? she then turned and carefully went over in front of his desk, no way in hell she would expect herself to get down on her knees or anything for him but awaited his next move. ''..yes?''

Loki's eyes seemed to pierce through her as he spoke carefully, almost as if he was making sure she was understanding every word that left his lips. “you’re under my order...you do not disrespect me like that. throughout your time working with me...” he then moved and stood up, the desk being the only thing between them. “You will learn to respect...care...and maybe.. appreciate me.''

That desk almost seemed to be getting smaller and smaller and she seemed to just now notice how much of a difference their heights were. appreciate? in what way? surely he didn't mean anything like- ''i'm not sure what you are hinting at-''

Loki smirked. “Fury has you here to keep an eye on me...yes?” He asked quietly and chuckled. “Then keep an eye on me...watch me...observe me.” He smirked wider. “but darling...don’t you worry...for if you are good, I will make this whole endeavor durable. like i did last time..”

Rose raised a brow in a mix of shock and confusion, her body leaning as it threatened to take a step back and felt a shiver run down her spine. he remembers?. ''..This is merely a job and one i can walk away from if i so choose so you might want to-''

“what will I ever do with you...'' he smirked, a hand slowly reaching down and too hold of the edge of the desk as he slowly moved it to the side and out of his way, his eye contact holding. ''I'm just tempted to keep you here...because I don’t think I will be able to stop this match of wits.” He said softly, taking a step forward to where he was in front of her now. “Trust me darling...you are not as strong as you think you are. you are under orders from Fury yes? one you cannot simply walk away from even if you wanted to; at least not easily.'' He leaned down, dangerously close now. ''it will just be like old times..''

''wha-''

''I believe darling you’re under my orders...” he growled and leaned close to her, taking in her sweet perfume he would love so much. “and I think I’ve got my first little job for you darling...”

Hope You Enjoyed Chapter 1 ♥

#loki #loki odinson #loki fanfic #loki god of mischief #Loki Laufeyson #loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki x reader

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bronx-bomber87 · 10 months

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We're off to episode 3 another fantastic one for our fav couple. Let's get started shall we?

2x03 The Bet

Tim and Lucy are getting ready to head out when she asks how his night was. Seems like an innocent enough question by her. So Tim is honest. Lucy's response is sassy to say the least. Being as comfortable as possible in its delivery. Tim isn't too happy with her reply. Let me say this, Lucy is the ONLY person Tim would ever allow to talk to him like this LOL No way in hell he would indulge anyone else to even broach the subject. But then no one else would have the guts to like Lucy either. She is always the exception for him.

Once again Lucy is doing it for his own good. To shake him out of his routine. Help him move on. Everything this woman ever does is in his best interest. Tim’s deep breath in the first gif when she starts up is so funny. Like he is bracing himself for whatever Lucy barrage is headed his way. He knows she is going to say something he doesn't want to hear LOL She tries to broach the subject lightly but is instantly shot down. Now he isn't mad so much as annoyed which is progress believe it or not haha

Lucy clams up pretty quickly after he mentions jogging behind the shop all day. Her face is hilarious. Lucy has learned to take her foot off the gas when need be. She opened the door a crack to this convo and shut it quickly. It’s like she pokes the bear gauges his reaction then strategizes for a bit on how to better approach him later. She is no where near done meddling in this matter.

We rejoin them at the station booking a couple of sex workers. This is where Lucy decides to bring this subject up once again. The lack of personal space in this scene is primo. Personal space? Never heard of her.... I love it so much. My goodness they are awfully close to one another in this scene hehe She sees this as her window and is right back at it. Lucy is saying she thinks she can help him. He looks at her like she’s insane. But he allows her to continue. Almost bemused at her confidence to set him up properly. It becomes a point of pride for Lucy. The more he seems to doubt her the more she wants to prove him wrong. What else is new? Haha

This quickly goes from setting him up to a work flirt. I mean look at those two above. They're not subtle in the least...All their work flirts stem from challenging one another. This whole situation goes from helping Tim go out on a date to a competition. Because well it’s them LOL They’re both so damn competitive...That’s literally what this entire thing boils down to. Both of them digging in their heels and not relenting. Thinking they're right and the other is in the wrong.

Tim has grown a lot I keep saying but it’s true and I'm just so proud of him. Last season Tim wouldn’t have allowed Lucy anywhere near his personal/love life. Let alone make a bet about it with her. They’re both SO cocky and confident they’re going to win as well. They decide on the the winner's spoils. For Tim he gets 50 push ups after each call. Lucy gets the short sleeves she was robbed of.

Tim agrees and says she has to pay if he does this. Lucy doesn’t even care and hastily agrees to this. Just wants so badly to be in short sleeves. These two are ridiculous fools and I love them for it. Also the way Lucy looks at him after they make their bet above is so cute. Little smitten kitten this one. As I've said before as transparent as glass. She is so adorable in how she looks at him. If he looked next to him he would see the heart eyes being lodged his way. Also lets pay back attention to the lack of space. *sigh* I just love them so much.

Tim does what he does best. Getting under Lucy’s skin as much as possible. In a way only he knows how. Since Lucy is paying he’s taking Rachel to most expensive restaurant possible. He's such a shit haha I adore him though. The work flirt continues. We haven’t had one in a bit this definitely constitutes as one. Tim going on about the expensive food and wine. You can see the irritation all over her face. Eric and Melissa are masters at conveying so much with a look. Right now she wants to shove him off that chair.

Lucy is trying to turn it back in her favor. Saying how romantic it is. That he wouldn't have chosen that if he wanted his date to fail. Their banter is unrivaled. I enjoy their verbal sparring so much. Tim is ever so cocky of course. He thinks he has this in the bag. That Lucy is destined to stay in long sleeves till her probation is up. Well if he has anything to do with it she will.

He is more excited at the prospect of Lucy doing those push-ups and winning this bet than the date itself. Oh Timothy. His damn cute smile in that last gif though above. Lord help me. I swear he only smiles that way with her. Amazing the amount of chemistry these two have without even touching. Testament to how good it is.

I don’t know what’s funnier. The fact that Lucy is casing his date or that she dragged Jackson along for it LMAO Kills me. ‘Mama needs to get into short sleeves’ I’m dying haha Also Jackson telling her how weird this is. I loved their friendship so much. Down to do and help each other with whatever.

Tim crashing and burning on this date is too funny. He needs an ice breaker. What does he do to rectify the situation? Brings up his work wife. Yes baby, that’ll fix the current train wreck you have going on. Smh. He does look damn good though. Feast for the eyes and all that. I will say I did like Rachel. She was the perfect person to get him back into the dating world. A Lucy 2.0 you could say. Because she challenges him and calls him on his crap too. I mean look at that second gif. Got him to go from saying Chen to Lucy with a pointed look.

I like Rachel for what she represented for him. Showing him he could have a functional relationship post Isabel. I think she was very important in shaping Tim into who he becomes in that regard. I hope this doesn’t sound as mean as it may come off. Rachel was a means to an end for Chenford. A good one but one none the less. Serious enough to show Tim he was capable of that again but not enough that he would leave LA for it.(But that’s much farther in the future for s2.) I will say I do love what Rachel does for him in the long run. I didn’t hate their scenes by any means. They had their purpose. I.e. Lucy who will eventually win this bet as we will see later on.

Lucy and Jackson continue to watch the date. It looks like Tim is flailing and Rachel is off put. Tim admits the bet he has with Lucy. That he wants to win. Rachel flirts and says being with her isn't a win? Then they start to click a bit. Tim says he can help Rachel with her civil standbys. She asks what he’d like in return? Tim being Tim knows Lucy is watching. Has Rachel slap him in the face and leave. Lucy is crushed and convinced she will be in long sleeves the rest of her probationary period haha

Oh Lucy you know why you care if Tim dates LOL Just last episode you recorded an old ass book for this man. But it is far too early for you to understand the true meaning of those actions just yet. She cares so much and is so empathetic. She will do things to her own detriment. Like this date haha Jackson’s reply is the best though. ‘You just want everyone to be happy. That’s a good quality’ He was such a good friend. ❤️

I love that Lucy couldn’t stand the idea of Rachel thinking badly of Tim. So she made sure early the next morning to visit her and rectify that. Almost like she couldn't move on with her day until she did this. That even if they didn’t work out romantically, she had to come and defend Tim to her. Lucy has seen his good side more than anyone else. To her there is no one better to defend his name than her. So that’s exactly what she did. Gah I love it. She’s so loyal.

Lucy looks down and sees a pair of boots. Then Tim does his glorious entrance. A shot we all love let's be honest. He's all wet from the shower and in a low hanging towel. Phew lord. Lucy looks a little thirsty at first. Then she turns her brain back on. (I can’t blame her girl I'm thirsty from seeing him too ahaha) Lucy confidently looks him in the eye and says ‘Short sleeves’ then takes off with a glorious smile and stride out of Rachel's place and back to her car.

Tim is so mad he’s lost this bet he doesn’t even care Lucy is seeing him in a towel. Or the fact that he’s there cause he spent the night with her friend. He’s more annoyed she won the bet LOL Classic. He thought he was going to have his cake and eat it too. Sorry Tim that’s a hard no haha This ep was one big work flirt for them both and I loved it.

~~~~~

Side notes- Meh didn’t really have much. Was cool to have couple Castle peeps on the show Seamus and Jon retuning. And Wopez was cute with his mom and stuff but nothing major. Jackson' SL with Smitty was really good tragic but good.

Forgot to thank everyone last review my apologies. Always so very thankful to those that like/comment (I adore comments)/ reblog and such you all are the best. :)

#Caitlin rewatches The Rookie #chenford #chenford hiatus #summer rewatch #waiting on s6 #s2 #2x03 The Bet #the rookie #tim bradford #lucy chen #tim x lucy #lucy x tim #eric winter #melissa o'neil #otp: doing my job #otp: you know me so well. too well.#tim bradford x lucy chen

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madamebaggio · 3 months

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Notes: Previously...

So... Yeah. This was supposed to be a Christmas thing from the poll... I am so sorry. I got writer's block again, the end of the year was insane... Anyway.

Thank you for the love and patience. I hope you enjoy this.

Also, I am aware that Will and Baelish are played by the same actor, but we'll all pretend it's not the case XD

****

Chapter 7

Arthur was downright chipper the next morning as he walked down the keep’s hallways. He’d left his chamber early, because he wasn’t convinced his wife wouldn’t smother him with a pillow.

Although he didn’t think that was much Sansa’s style.

She looked more like the type to poison his mead.

That was progress the night before, right? She’d allowed him a kiss -a damn good one, if he could say so -and she’d enjoyed it.

She had, right?

For a moment, the night before, he’d feared he’d pushed her too far. And when she’d said he could just do whatever he wanted…

Arthur had no illusions about how women were treated. He grew up in a brothel, he knew better than anyone how men considered women property at best, and objects at worst.

He’d grown up seeing strangers coming in and slapping the women around, all the while the owner of the house did nothing.

As soon as he was strong enough, Arthur killed the owner and took over the house. It wasn’t only a brothel after that, even though it was what most people thought it was. Many people and many products passed through there.

However, the women’s safety was Arthur’s top priority. There were no more slaps, no more violence. There was a choice.

The fact that Sansa believed she didn’t have one with him gutted him.

He’d been fun and lighthearted so far, because he thought it was just a case of him having to charm his wife and redo the mistakes of their wedding night.

The fact that Sansa was more than ready to just lay down and think of the North while he did whatever he wanted to her made his stomach churn.

Arthur had never been that kind of man, but his wife thought he might be.

And now he wondered if this was exclusively his fault -for the mess he’d done on their wedding night- or if there was something else.

“Morning, lads.” He grumbled as he entered the hall and found his men -his friends -around the table.

Losing Back Lack had been a fucking hard. He’d almost quit the whole thing just then.

However, Jon Snow hadn’t let him give up. While everyone else was fighting for that fucking ugly throne, Jon had kept only one thing in his mind: the Others. Jon didn’t care for crown or country, not when they could all die soon.

He’d only kept going because he believed in Snow, even if he believed in nothing else at that point.

Three years of war had been difficult, to say the least. However, Kay had also been right: this wasn’t a competition, and Sansa had certainly faced her own challenges.

The question then was… How bad had it been?

“I need a word with you, Goose Fat.”

The man gave him a look. Arthur guessed the nickname had worn thin after a while. “Yes?”

He cleared his throat. He trusted those men with his life, but he wasn’t sure if he should be discussing his wife in front of all of them. So Arthur indicated a corner of the hall with his head.

Bill said nothing as he got up and followed him.

When they took Camelot back from his uncle, Arthur left Bill there to receive Sansa and take care of things while he was out.

Bill had been there for a long time, enough that he’d know if something had happened.

“Yes?” Bill asked again.

“I know you have sent me letters and kept me posted on most things…” Arthur sighed. “But I need to ask you a question.”

Bill arched an eyebrow. “About?”

“My wife.”

Bill frowned. “What about Lady Pendragon?”

“I was away for a long time…” Bill’s frown got even deeper. “And Sansa was without protection, and she is very beautiful…”

“Arthur…”

“Has anyone tried to take advantage of her while I was away?”

It was clearly not what Bill had been expecting. “For fuck’s sake.” He let out a long sigh. “I thought you were about to suggest your wife had been improper. Then I would have to hit you.”

That actually made Arthur smirk. “Oh, you were about to defend her honor.” He was amused.

“Lady Pendragon is a singular woman.” Bill said. “She is resilient, hard-working and smart, but also extremely kind. She is a good one.”

“It never crossed my mind that Sansa might have found a lover while I was away.” Arthur assured him, quite seriously. “My concern is whether someone came along who did not care about her opinion on the subject.”

Bill sighed. “I had promised her not to tell you this unless you asked me.”

“What?” Arthur demanded.

“Remember when I wrote you a letter, telling you about an execution?”

“Petyr Baelish?”

“Yes.” Bill confirmed.

Arthur did remember this. Bill had told him about Arya Stark coming out of nowhere and appearing in Camelot, and how she and Sansa executed a man by the name of Petyr Baelish for treason.

The details were unclear to him at the time, since he knew very little about the man, but Will had explained to him it had something to do with Sansa’s parents.

“So what exactly have you been hiding from me?” He arched an eyebrow.

“I did not hide anything.” Will, slippery as always, was quick to say. “I told you the truth, but one aspect of it I did conceal, because Lady Pendragon asked me to.”

Arthur snorted. “Out with it.”

“That Baelish… He was interested in her.” Will admitted.

“Excuse me?” Arthur crossed his arms.

“It was something really… Wrong. He was looking for Cat Stark’s shadow in Sansa.”

Arthur’s nose crinkled in disgust. “Did she know?”

“He came to Camelot as soon as she did.” Will said. “And at first I think she really thought he was trying to help, but it soon became clear he was not.”

“Did he do anything to her?” Arthur demanded.

“Not that I know of.” Will said. “I did have everyone here keeping an eye on him, and nobody reported anything. I had guards posted in front of Lady Pendragon’s chambers while he was around. As far as I know, what he did do was trying to poison her against you, her sister and anyone that came in between him and her.”

Arthur rubbed her temples. “Why did she ask you not to tell me about that part?”

“Well…” Will scratched his chin. “It was around that time when you were all marching up to Winterfell to fight against the walkers. Remember? We offered to let people camp here and you said no?”

Arthur had to think about that one for a minute. After all that time, many events started to get jumbled in his head. Honestly, he had no idea of dates or details for any of the many battles he’d fought since that mess started.

He finally nodded. “Yes, I remember. Snow convinced Queen Daenerys to fight the white walkers. We did not stop here because it did not make sense. We would have to go out of our way, and it was simpler to just keep going.”

Will hummed. “It was not how your wife saw it.”

“What do you mean?”

“She offered shelter, she offered to come to you and you said no.” Will arched an eyebrow. “Can you guess what she understood from that?”

Arthur groaned. “I did not mean it like that.”

“You two did not know each other.” Will’s tone was devoid of judgment. “And you did not correspond for the whole time you were away. Lady Pendragon had no way of knowing you or your motives, so… She chose to believe you did not care.”

“Fuck.” Arthur grunted.

“And since you did not care, you did not need to know, since it was settled.” Will concluded. “At least… That was what she told me.”

Arthur groaned once again. “Being married is difficult.”

Will snorted. “You have not seen anything yet, lad.” He eyed Arthur. “Have you tried talking to your wife?”

“No, never crossed my mind.” Arthur replied dryly. “Sansa is… Guarded.”

Will put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Arthur, I have seen you entering this very room with your arms wide open and tell your uncle to ‘fuck off’. You are not scared of your wife now, are you?”

“Of course not.”

Arthur wasn’t afraid of Sansa. He was afraid she’d never give him a chance, and his bluff from earlier might be true: he’d fall in love like an idiot and she wouldn’t meet him halfway.

#madame baggio #crackship #crossover #gifs not mine #crossover pairings #au #game of thrones #sansa stark #king arthur legend of the sword #arthur pendragon #sansa x arthur #lady of all she touches

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