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larphacks · 3 years

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Process Hack: Welfare

Hi all! After a long hiatus, ya boy is back with more unsolicited advice!

What are we talking about this week? It’s LARP welfare!

Common at medium and large games, the role of welfare officer, sometimes called “site parent”, and sometimes divided into crew welfare and player welfare, is very important. It’s also something which can go really smoothly if you do some decent prep before the event. I’ve been discussing the role with some LARPer friends recently, and I’ve put together some advice for good ways to tackle this role.

Some of the below advice falls into the category of sensible prep that everyone can do before a game too, so feel free to read even if you don’t hold (or want to hold) a position like this!

Some of the jobs I outline below might not fall into every welfare officer’s purview - mix and match as you choose. (If you’ve been asked to look after player or crew welfare and don’t know which of the below are your responsibilities, that means you need to have a chat with the chief organisers and find out!)

1. Positive Energy

This can be a surprisingly high-energy role. Particularly in the crew room, one of the most important things a welfare officer can do is be positive and energetic when everyone is feeling a bit tired and down. This is hard! But a bit of jollying-along goes a huge way to changing the dynamic. This is even harder when YOU'RE the one feeling tired and cold and sad. But if you are visibly struggling, nobody will approach you when they need help! A "brave face" is your best weapon.

2. Shut Up!

Sometimes you need to be the "voice of reason" - getting people to concentrate, or quiet down, when it's important that something needs to be done quickly. One good way to do this is to be cheerful enough most of the time that people LISTEN on the rare occasions that you raise your voice and ask them to please shut up for a minute.

3. Early Start, Late Finish

The two above points are ESPECIALLY important during set-up and take-down. You need to be "on the ball"/on duty during periods where other people are transiting into and out of the game. During set-up, your keen crew and players will all be busy frothing and sniffing each other's butts because they haven't seen each other for a year, they want to show off their new kit, and their adrenaline is through the roof. But - it's 30 minutes to time-in and nobody's in kit and the IC areas aren't set-dressed. You need to get them moving!

During take-down, everyone is exhausted, a bit overwhelmed, and wants to sleep (including the refs). But the site needs to be taken down, cleaned and tidied up, lost property needs to be organised, and there are always last-minute disasters involved in the logistics of getting people off site. You can't collapse now - your job isn't done. You might not be in charge of take-down, but you ARE the right person to gently corral and rally tired people towards the plan.

4. Who does what?

If you're the first point of call for someone who's having an issue, being able to confidently signpost to other crew is really important. So firstly, you should know exactly what the other other staff members do and where they're likely to be (in both time and space). If a player comes to you and says "I'm really struggling with the Sorcery rules and I feel very stupid", then sure, you can (and should!) offer them some immediate comfort and consolation. But in order to help them with the root of the problem, you need to know several bits of information:

a) What are the different staff members' responsibilities/expertises? Who does what? (Mike is the person who handles Sorcery rules.) b) Where in space are the other staff located? (Mike is currently refereeing the Clawed Fiend encounter on top of the hill.) c) When in time are the other staff available? (The Clawed Fiend encounter can't be interrupted. It is scheduled to end at 2100hrs. Mike should come back to the crew room after that.)

I'd also recommend you have a good "ticket-tracking" system to make sure your incoming queries are handled and nobody falls through the cracks. You could devolve this onto players ("Come back at 2110hrs and ask to speak to Mike") but it will help things flow smoothly if you are also logging things yourself. I'd recommend carrying a small notebook and pen so you can note things down and tick things off. You can also help things along by being an active communicator and setting the emotional context for solutions. If Mike comes back at 2100 and immediately gets jumped by an emotional player, he might be tired and confused and not give the best answer. But if he comes back and you tell him "There's a player who is having a bad time with the Sorcery rules, they seem quite distressed, I think you can help, they'll be around in 10 minutes" then he won't be surprised and will have the right bit of his brain switched on.

5. It’s all in the Filofax

There is admin information about players/crew which will really help you if something goes wrong too. I'd suggest having the following on-hand, glued into your notebook, on a tablet, or otherwise kept secure on your person (since some of it's sensitive personal data):

a) A list of everyone's allergies and medical conditions. b) A list of qualified first-aiders, and the locations of first-aid kits. c) A list of every vehicle on site, registration number against player/crew name, in case you need a car moved in a hurry. d) A rough understanding of who arrived from where, with whom. It doesn't need to be exhaustive, but if the vehicle which brought 6 people from London breaks down irrecoverably, then being able to help sketch out solutions to get those people and their kit home will be massively easier if you know roughly where people came from.

6. The Outside World

You are likely to also need to be able to signpost to help *outside* the game. If a player comes to you with a problem that can't be fixed with on-site resources, what are you going to do about it? You can't predict every scenario, but at a minimum I'd suggest having the following prepared:

a) A breakdown service for the vehicle that won't start (in the UK the most common is the AA). b) A mental health or emotional support helpline, like the Samaritans (116123). c) The emergency number for injured wildlife - in the UK, the RSPCA (0300 1234 999). d) The emergency and non-emergency medical numbers (in the UK: 999 emergency, 111 non-emergency) and police numbers (UK: 999 emergency, 101 non-emergency). e) A clear understanding of where on site you can get mobile phone signal. f) A plan for how you would get an ambulance onto site if you needed one: run through the whole thing (where on site can I get enough signal to call the ambulance? What is the postcode of the site, and do I have a set of clear directions to give the dispatcher in my notebook? Who am I sending to the site entrance to walk the ambulance on? Is their most likely route of approach clear for a large vehicle?). If you've never called an ambulance in this country, then ask someone who *has* to practice with you, so you understand what questions they'll ask and in what order.

7. Kit & kaboodle

The following are things which LARPers reliably fail to provide for themselves, and which you will benefit greatly if you have on hand. Find out from the organisers what your budget is, and buy accordingly:

a) Salty snacks (crisps/nuts) and quick energy (sweets/fruit). Keep a small separate store aside from the usual 'crew food' to help someone who is struggling. b) The ability to make a hot sweet drink in a hurry. c) Hydration solution (Dioralyte, Powerade, or the cheap alternative, which is six teaspoons of sugar and half a teaspoon of salt per litre of clean water). d) Paper and pens. e) High-powered torch (for searching for lost objects). f) Your own phone on an in-country network, plus at least one charged mobile phone powerbank with multiple charger ends. g) Ice packs - ideally the "squeeze to activate" sort so you aren't relying on the site freezer. (Most common item left out of first aid kids - and immediate relief/comfort for the most common LARP injuries.) h) Warm blankets. i) An idea of how you'd provide a simple hot meal in a hurry. (This could be a packet of rice you can chuck in the microwave, a cup-soup and kettle, a ration pack and a Jetboil, or a good understanding of what the caterers' plan is for an emergency meal.)

If someone is in a lot of distress, going through the process of dealing with their physical needs (food/water/temperature/etc.) can often help them become better able to communicate their psychological/emotional needs. Often a LARPer who is dehydrated or low on blood sugar doesn't KNOW that's the problem, they just know they feel awful and are crashing hard.

8. Know the Ground

KNOW YOUR SITE - I can't stress this enough. If someone has a costume disaster and needs somewhere private to change, where can they do that? If someone is overwhelmed and needs a quiet, safe, cool (or warm) room or tent to lie down in for an hour, where can they do that? If a shy new player shows up and asks "Where do I put my kit?", then being able to answer them quickly and competently with a smile on your face will immediately endear you (and mean that they WILL come to you later, when they're suffering, instead of sitting alone on their bed being sad about it).

9. Late Bloomers

What is the late arrivals plan? If you went IC at 1900 and the traffic means some of your players don't arrive till 2200, then most of your key refs/crew will be busy running the game. You're the most likely person to escort the late arrivals onto site, get them set up, and get them integrated into the game. You'll need to reassure, but you'll also need to understand a lot of admin details to make sure they don't feel any more overwhelmed and embarrassed than they already do. This might involve giving a second safety briefing, pointing out any last-minute changes that weren't included in the game pack, and pointing them to the right ref to get their characters timed in. You can be as nice and friendly as you like - but some people will be even more reassured by practical, reliable and clear directions when they’re feeling rushed and panicky.

10. Herd those Cats

What is the crew plan? Depending on role, you may or may not be involved in "crew wrangling" - this is often a separate role, and deserves its own post. But even if you aren't "crew boss", you need to understand and be able to help balance crew energy and engagement. If there are long periods where crew are likely to be sitting around bored, where are the "pick-up-and-play" roles they can briefly read, digest, and go out to engage in? If crew are doing three hours of back-to-back combat roles, where is the plan for ensuring that they're all fed, watered, rested and properly kitted before their next high-energy role? The best refs will have considered this and have a clear plan for managing crew in small teams to maintain their energy levels - but as a welfare officer you are likely to be the advocate/interface if it doesn't seem to be working well, so make sure you understand where the weak spots and frictions in the plan might be so you can deal with them in advance.

What happens if a crew member comes to you and says they're really struggling with their NPC role and aren't enjoying it? (If you're the approachable face, they'll likely come to you first before a busier ref!) Do you understand the crew matrix well enough to think about solutions, alternative roles they could do, or how the timetable could be re-worked to end their role early? Wherever possible, you should strive to go to the refs with a solution rather than a problem: "Harry is struggling and I think if we brought the poisoning forward an hour, then let him play a gremlin for the rest of the night, that would fix it" is better than "Harry is struggling". They may not accept your solution, but the conversation is already moving onto alternative ways to fix the problem.

11. Easy In, Easy Out

How do players enter/leave the game if they're fatigued or unwell? Your game may not have a clear system for this, and it may be players' own responsibility to manage their fatigue. However, some will struggle to cross the IC/OC divide here: if the character is fighting for their life, how do they resolve that with the player needing to have a lie-down for an hour so they're safe to drive the next day? One of the best games I've run had a clear, signposted system where players who needed a break could "vanish" IC (with a clear IC logic for their disappearance) and take as much time as they wanted. When they were rested, they could go see a ref for a special briefing which told them what had happened while they were away (and explained how they reappeared). You won't find this in every game, but think about ways to make taking an OC break feel like a positive and productive experience, which leaves the character with plenty to talk about when they return, rather than a potentially embarrassing one which leaves the player out-of-the-loop and feeling like they've missed out on the fun.

12. Look After Number One!

Practice active self-care, both to facilitate all of the above and as a good example to others. Going back to the first point, most people can't project positive energy if they're sad, wet, cold, tired and hungry. Have a routine worked out to look after yourself. Understand what you can and can't do and work to your limitations. If you have lots of physical energy but are struggling to deal with six emotional crises in a row, get up and walk around site. If moving exhausts you, pick a central location to base yourself and make sure all the things you need to do your job are in easy reach.

Feel free to reblog with your own additions, checklist items or hacks for looking after your fellow LARPers’ welfare. Suggestions gratefully accepted!

#process hack #LARP #accessibility #larp accessibility #larphacks

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imaginesupply · 3 years

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Homecoming - Chapter Six

(I know it's Henry and not Sy in the photo, but it just fit too well with this chapter.)

Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.

Genres: Romance, drama.

Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).

Notes:

It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.

This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.

English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.

Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies.

Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.

Finally: This will be a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.

Chapter Six starts after the cut. (Chapter Five can be found here.) Let me know if you wish to be tagged in the last chapter or if you wish to be removed from the tag list.

I will post a master list soon and put the link in the comments to make it easier to navigate.

Chapter 6

Chapter warnings: Smut, Christmas themes, mentions of therapy, embarrassing moments.

Ada didn't mind being woken up with soft fluttering kisses on her neck. She definitely didn't mind starting the day with the tantalizing rub of his beard on her sensitive skin and the hard press of his torso against her back, their legs entwined and his morning erection nuzzled against her butt.

What she did mind, however, was when any of this happened at the butt crack of dawn. Ada opened her eyes just enough to read 6:50am on the alarm clock.

"Sy," she groaned, stopping his wandering hands with hers, trying to trap them beneath her breasts. "Hold that thought for later, okay?"

She heard him chuckle behind her, his chest vibrating against her body as he freed his hands from her weak grip. "Later is for putting up the Christmas tree and the decorations," he teased, his right hand now drawing circles low on her stomach.

Ada groaned again, wanting to fight his tempting touch but unwilling to move away from his body heat. "I'll get up at 7:30." Those were the last words out of her mouth before she had drifted off again.

When she woke up once more, forty minutes later with the blast of her alarm clock, her back was cold and the smell of breakfast wafted through the air, filling her nostrils. Damn Syverson and his military sleep schedule! She had taken all her days off to spend them with him only to wake up even earlier than when she was working.

With barely open eyes, Ada threw on his shirt that hung on the chair and slowly made her way downstairs, following the scent of pancakes. She found Sy in front of the stove, just finishing up the last one before setting it on the huge pile of pancakes that looked fluffier than clouds. Ada had quickly learnt that while Sy was a disaster when it came to the art of cooking, he was the master of pancakes and barbecue.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he greeted her and then smirked when he noticed her attire.

"Morning captain," she mumbled, walking up to him before patiently waiting until he leant down so that they could share a kiss. It always made him laugh when she did that: the adorable pout on her face when he didn't bend down for a kiss fast enough was worth waiting the extra second every time.

They ate in relative silence, mostly because Ada definitely wasn't a morning person, but the fact that Sy had a habit of stuffing his mouth full of food also played a role. When she was done eating, Ada pushed her plate and glass away, and brought her knees up to her chest, hugging her legs on the chair. She eyed her husband intently, waiting for him to finish eating with a grin on her lips.

"Why are you looking at me like that, darlin'?" Sy asked, eyebrow raised suspiciously before taking the last sip of his morning coffee.

Ada blushed, suddenly looking bashful. "Well… I was hoping we could go back upstairs and continue what you started earlier," she admitted in a tiny voice.

Sy laughed, a booming sound that filled the entire room before a shit-eating grin spread on his lips. "Tough luck, darlin'." He got up from his chair, standing in front of her across the narrow table. "Should have thought about that before falling asleep on me earlier."

Ada's mouth fell open. The cheek on this man! And what made it worse, was his huge smile that made him look like a very amused bear, with his hairy, tempting chest. He was toying with her. "Are you really saying no to sex?" She asked, cocking her brow. Sy wasn't really the type to turn down-

"Yes, no sex." He stated, suddenly looking very serious. "We have to head to the store to buy decorations, then put up the tree and hang the lights outside." Ada tried her best not to laugh. He sounded as if he were explaining a major, life or death, mission to her – not Christmas preparations. "You’re dismissed but I expect you back here in fifteen minutes, dressed and ready to go." With that, he turned around and started gathering the plates and silverware to put them in the dishwasher.

"Yes, sir."

Ada knew better than to talk back. First, when he had something in mind, it was nearly impossible to talk him out of it. Second, she hoped that the sooner they were done with this, the sooner she could get laid. Third, he had used his Captain voice that somehow always managed to make an obedient little soldier out of her.

Though, rationally, she also didn't want to make it any more difficult for him. He had confessed to her a few nights ago why he'd felt so uneasy when they had gone grocery shopping: the gondolas were too tall which led to lots of blind spots and the amount of people meant he couldn't rely on his hearing sense to detect potential danger. 'It just screams ambush,' he told her.

Ada couldn't quite imagine what he must have experienced that a supermarket or a store would translate into danger, but it was not her place to question him. Instead, she had kissed his forehead in bed and offered to start doing their shopping on her own. Sy had promptly refused, suggesting they simply go early in the mornings, when there were less people and less distracting noises.

Now at Target, she was immensely glad she had gotten out of bed, the sight alone was worth it. It wasn't everyday you'd see Sy pick up a bunch of Christmas tree baubles and inspect each one of them carefully before determining which ones were worthy enough to make it to their living room. Ada sneaked a picture for safekeeping and then decided to send it to his mom as well. Family dinner was fast-approaching, and she'd seize all the cookie points she could get.

"Darlin'," Sy called, catching her attention. He was holding up an inflatable Santa who, instead of carrying gifts, dragged a bag full of liquor bottles and sported a drunk grin on his face. It was tacky beyond words. "Do 'you think we should get this, or will it just upset the neighborhood kids?"

Ada grimaced but tried to disguise it with a smile. She’d die before letting that thing on their lawn. “I think a neighborhood dog would tear it to bits within a second," she lied, trying to appear apologetic.

"Yeah, you're probably right."

°°°

The lights were up. It was a much quicker process with Sy's help. It was also the occasion for Ada to just sit back and relax because he was adamant, she shouldn’t step on a ladder to help. Instead, she had a glass of bourbon waiting for him for when he finished. It was 5pm somewhere after all.

"You said we had a tree!" Sy's deep voice reached her from the basement.

Ada threw her head back, sighing, before hurrying downstairs after him. "Yes, it's in that box over there," she pointed at a white cardboard box behind a couple of spare tires.

"Woman, it's tiny!" Sy complained, picking up the box and setting it down between them. It was about as tall as her. It was not that small.

"It's the one I've used every year since I moved in. It's pretty enough and doesn't take up too much space,” she defended.

In front of her, Sy exhaled loudly through his nostrils before rubbing his beard. She knew that move. It's what he did to remind himself she was not a soldier under his command, but his wife, and that he better measure his words unless he wanted to sleep on the sofa.

"Look, darlin'," he said calmly, enclosing her small hands in his much bigger ones. "This is my first Christmas home with my wife. I refuse to put up a minuscule, fake sapling in my home and call it a Christmas tree."

Ada was slightly taken aback. She didn’t know Christmas was this important to him. Though it was true he had been overseas on Christmas the past two years, so she could understand where he was coming from with wanting this Christmas to matter. Besides, it was endearing when he put it like that.

With a nibble on her lip, Ada gave in. "Okay. They're selling trees in that parking lot by the pharmacy."

Sy slowly shook his head, a mischievous look on his face. "No. We're going to get our own pine tree from the woods."

You gotta be kidding me, she groaned internally.

°°°

Ada had no idea where they were. It hadn’t been that long of a ride, but there were no more houses or streets to be seen around them, just endless fields and a forest. It was only when Sy took a right turn, that she started spotting cars and what looked to be a very colorful barn which had been converted into a cozy boutique.

“Where are we?” She asked, staring out of the window as Sy looked for a place to park his truck.

“The Dallagher’s ranch,” he replied. “They do a corn maze and a pumpkin patch in the Fall, and in the Winter, you can pick up your own Christmas tree. My dad used to take Claire and I here every year.”

Oh… This was a family tradition. No wonder Sy made such a big deal about having a real tree for Christmas.

Once out of the car, they walked hand in hand through the dirt road until they reached the makeshift counter made of hay where you could get a handcart before heading out into the man-made pine forest and select a Christmas tree. Most people she saw, however, were already returning the handcarts and happily carrying their trees to their parked cars.

The old man by the cash register seemed to recognize Sy instantly, smiling warmly as he greeted him with a one-armed hug. Ada realized it was the ranch’s owner. “I haven’t seen you in years, Jack!” The old man exclaimed with a laugh before turning to Ada. “And who’s this pretty lady?”

“This is Ada, my wife,” Sy said, introducing them. He watched with amusement as Ada stumbled as the old man hugged her without a warning, taking her by surprise.

“Well, it’s great to meet you, Ada,” the man nodded once he had retreated, and then turned back to Sy. “Should I be offended I wasn’t invited to the wedding?” He teased.

Sy was already wrapping his arm around her shoulders, chuckling. “To be honest, Dallagher, there were no guests at the wedding,” he replied, amused at the way the old man frowned in a confused manner at that piece of information. “Actually, we came here to get a tree.”

“Of course!” Dallagher immediately turned and ordered the young boy in overalls to fetch them a handcart. “What size did you have in mind?”

“Something around seven feet,” Sy said, looking pensive as Ada looked up at him suspiciously, trying to figure out how much seven feet converted to in the metric system. Once she’d done the math, she pulled at Sy’s flannel sleeve to protest – that was way too big, it’d take up the whole living room – but the Dallagher’s grandson was already handing them the cart and leading them to the entrance.

“Trees that big are at the very back of the forest, you’ll have to walk a little.”

This turned out to be quite an understatement. Ada felt like they had been walking for literal years. While they had still come across other people at the beginning, mostly families, they were on their own now – that is if you didn’t count the many squirrels that kept appearing out of nowhere.

She stopped, grabbing the back of Sy’s red tartan shirt so he would be forced to pause as well. “Can’t we just take one of these?” Ads suggested, gesturing at the countless trees all around them. They were all pretty enough and considerably taller than her.

Sy huffed, biting his lip in amusement as he looked at her dispirited face. He’d told her she should probably get changed and wear more comfortable shoes before they left home, but she had insisted she wasn’t going to change clothes just to get a goddamn tree. “These are only around six feet, darlin’. And,” he paused, eyeing the trees more closely, “they’re not Nordmann firs. I want a Nordmann.”

Ada sighed defeatedly, but nodded all the same, starting to walk again when Sy took pity on her. “Do you want to sit on the handcart?”

The change on his wife’s face was instant, the frown lifting into a smile as she climbed on the cart and sat down in the middle, evening out her weight for him. “Is that better, darlin?” He asked teasingly.

She turned her head back just to make sure he saw her rolling her eyes.

By the time they reached an area with Nordmann trees that Sy considered nice and big enough, her butt was sore from the conjunction of the hard, wooden surface and the uneven ground. She wasn’t even sure she had made the better call or whether it would have been better to suffer in her new ankle boots instead.

“Which one is better?” Sy asked, pointing at two pine trees that looked virtually identical to her.

Ada shrugged, almost saying that he should choose before realizing how much time that would take. The man wasn’t picky about food, bedlinen or even the pillow he slept with, but apparently, he had to make sure he brought home the most perfect tree. She still couldn’t wrap her head around that. “The left one,” she said finally.

“Which one? Your left or my left?”

Breathing in deeply, she decided to just point at the tree she was talking about. Sy nodded thoughtfully and grabbed the saw he had brought with him and started to work on the tree. While she had been most eager to get this whole thing over with, it became an entirely different story now as she dreamily stared at her husband getting to work.

With most of his back facing her and one knee on the forest’s soft ground as he started sawing off the Nordmann fin, Sy looked absolutely delicious. The red flannel shirt unbuttoned over his white t-shirt and the jeans made him perfect sight with anyone with a lumberjack fantasy. Ada had never considered herself as having such a kink. A uniformed soldier, or even better, a captain? Hell yes. A strong, rugged husband capable of her breaking her in half? Also a big yes. A lumberjack? The thought had never crossed her mind in the past but there was no point in denying it now as she sat back on the wooden cart, watching Sy carefully saw down the giant tree.

She was wet. Horny. Aroused. You name it. It also didn’t help that they hadn’t had sex that day. Yet.

"Sy," she whined, just loud enough to get his attention, while swinging her legs in the air like a child.

"I'm almost done, darlin'," Sy responded, not bothering to turn around to look at her. "I want a nice, clean cut."

Yeah, and she want a nice, dirty fuck. Pouting, she watched him for a couple more seconds as he knelt in front of the base of the tree, deciding from which side he should bring the saw to the trunk next in order to make it even.

That was when Ada decided she was tired of waiting. Shuffling quietly, she slipped off her wet panties from under her dress and rolled them into a small ball before throwing it at her husband. It hit his left shoulder and rolled down his chest. Grinning wickedly, she leaned back on her shoulders and enjoyed the view, the muscles on his back shifting as he picked up the garment off the ground. If this didn't get her laid, nothing else would.

"Ada Metz Syverson," Sy groaned out her full name slowly, his voice even deeper than usual. He got back up on his feet and turned to face her, looking stern.

Suddenly she didn't feel so brave anymore, not when he had crossed the distance to her in two determined strides and went to tower over her small, sitting frame. His jaw was set, and his eyes were a darker shade of blue than usual. Ada moved her eyes down his body, her eyes pausing at the defined pectorals on his chest before sliding lower. He was definitely hard, the bulge on his jeans prominent.

"Just remember you asked for this."

She wanted to ask what this was supposed to be, but he didn’t give her the chance. “Legs,” he ordered, patting his shoulder as he came to stand just inches away from her. Almost unconsciously, she obeyed his order, her ankles coming to rest on the front of his shoulders, her feet framing his neck. “That’s a good girl,” he praised her with a quick kiss to her right calf before his large hands moved to the front of his jeans, just over the protruding tent and began undoing the belt and snap.

From this angle, Sy’s cock looked even bigger, the shiny glans flushed a deep pink. Ada swallowed tightly, her legs already shaking with anticipation and he hadn’t even touched her yet. Pumping his shaft with his right hand, Sy brought his left one to her core, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb over clit once or twice before sliding it between her folds. She was a dripping mess. Sy smirked when she keened eagerly at his touch, enjoying his ministrations until he pulled his hand away and brought it to his mouth, licking off her slick. “It’s good you’re so wet already because I just can’t wait to take you, darlin’.”

He wasn’t lying when he said he couldn’t wait. The next thing he did, was grabbing hold of his throbbing, hard cock and guiding himself into her. Ada moaned loudly at the intrusion, drowning out Sy’s own growl as her walls clenched around his cock, trying to get used to the abruptness and depth of the penetration.

“Fuck, Sy!” She cried out, not even sure what it was she wanted. “Don’t stop,” was all she could muster as he ploughed into her like there was no tomorrow, hitting her pleasure all at once.

He knew they were being too loud. They might be alone, but they were still out in the open air, and yet he just couldn’t find it in himself to care – not when she felt this good around his cock and her noises only heightened his fervor. If someone happened to stumble upon them, then they’d simply be in for a premium show,

It wasn’t long until her legs started shaking almost uncontrollably up in the air, prompting him to remove one hand from his steely grip on her hip and wrap his arms around her legs to keep them steady as he continued with jackhammer thrusts. “Are you going to cum for me, darlin’?” Sy panted, groaning out the question between clenched teeth even though he already knew the answer.

Ada didn’t manage to reply, the first waves of her orgasm already coursing through her when she moaned his name. Her hips canted up, her body tensed up like a bolt, and Sy knew he was done for right then. Her warm walls squeezed him impossibly tight inside of her, milking the cum right out of his cock while he fought to keep his balance as pleasure overtook him.

They came down from their heights slowly, chests heaving. Sy lazily removed her legs from his shoulders, massaging the strained muscles on her inner thighs before he set her legs down. This woman would be the end of him. “That was…” he panted, bending forward over her body to kiss her forehead, unable to find a proper adjective to describe what had just happened.

“Yeah,” Ada breathed out, nodding slowly.

Sy ended up having to carry her and the tree on the cart back to his truck because there was no way she was able to walk straight after that.

°°°

They finished decorating the giant tree. Ada had to admit it looked pretty although the red and gold decorations clashed with the color theme of their living room. She handed Sy the newly purchased baubles one by one – he was the only one capable of reaching the top.

On their way back home, she had somehow managed to convince Sy to stop at the therapist’s office – the one she had found had the highest ratings on Google. They had booked the first available appointment, which was just after the New Year and Sy had made it very clear to their secretary it was just a ‘testing appointment’ and that there was no need to set aside time slots for follow-up sessions yet because there was no guarantee he’d be back. His reluctance was palpable, but Ada was glad he was giving it a try at least. And if he didn’t like, then they’d figure out something else.

In the background, their wedding video kept playing and she wondered for how much longer she'd have to hear the sound of camera flashes as the chapel assistant took way too many photos of them in the most cliché poses you could imagine. Sy has insisted they put on their wedding video since they’d never gotten around to watch it and it fit the season, according to him. Slowly, the annoying sounds began fading away and Ada sighed with relief. Watching herself on TV sparked too much embarrassment in her.

"Hand me the big one with Rudolph, will you, darlin'," Sy asked from behind her, still meticulously decorating the tree.

Ada nodded, searching for the bauble he had in mind. It was still in the shopping bag, she remembered, lifting it off the floor to dig inside it.

Ada froze as a female chuckle was heard, unconsciously gripping the glass ornament too tightly in her hand. "Not that fast, Captain."

Behind her, Sy frowned. "What did you say?"

"Tonight, I'm in charge," she heard her own voice say - no, it was more like a purr.

"Shit!" Ada cursed loudly, letting the bauble fall back inside the bag and she hurried to the TV, her worst fear confirmed.

Sy followed her quickly, stopping just behind her, his hands on her shoulders. "Is that from our wedding night?" He asked slowly, his eyes locked on the screen as he watched his younger self being tied up to the bedposts by his wife.

"Yes," Ada cringed, her face a painful grimace. "I didn't even remember the sex tape."

"Me neither," Sy swallowed loudly, admittedly rapidly becoming aroused at the sight of his Ada doing a striptease on camera. She wore that red ensemble with the garter belt.

"I think the assistant never really ended the video after our wedding, only paused it and we later continued filming in the hotel instead of starting a new video," Ada commented, now understanding what had happened. How they’d even came up with the idea of filming a sex tape on their wedding night, she didn't know. Alcohol had probably played a part in it.

Sy was still staring in awe at the TV, enthralled by the sight of his wife deviously edging him, her hips swaying slowly, when her words slowly registered in his head. "Didn't we send copies of the video to our families?" He stammered, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and hesitant.

Silence fell between them as they both realized they had been dumb enough to send copies before watching it themselves. "Fuck!" Ada barked, seizing the remote to pause the video. "We sent that to my parents, your parents, your sister...," she listed, her face losing all color.

Suddenly, the sound of Sy's deep laughter filled her ears. She turned to him, aghast. How could he find this funny? This was peak cringe! She’d be one needing therapy after this!

"You know, darlin', watching this video was the first time my parents ever saw their daughter-in-law, before even meeting you in person." Sy explained, shaking his head with amusement.

Ada was mortified. No wonder Mr. Syverson had seemed on the verge of laughter the first time they'd met and Helen had given her the side eye. The woman had a USB stick in her home with an hour-long video of Ada fucking her son. "You know, Sy, this wedding video is also the first thing my parents saw of you." He stopped laughing abruptly, his face red, all amusement gone.

They both sat down on the couch next to each other, slowly coming to terms with the fact that pretty much their whole families had seen this, and never said anything, probably keeping it as an inside joke.

Sy broke the silence, his large hand reaching to rub her naked thigh. "You know, I don't think we should be embarrassed," he said, prompting her to stare back up at him, eyebrow raised dubiously. "The way you tied up my arms really enhanced my biceps and you looked adorably hot like a vicious kitten from hell."

°°°

@colourmeinblue @hail-horror-queen @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @kmuir1 @madbaddic7ed @coffeebreathy @purplelove75 @summersong69 @helenaellie @rn7rocks

#henry cavill smut #syverson smut #henry cavill x reader #syverson x reader #henry cavill x ofc #syverson x ofc

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whumpwriterforlife · 3 years

Note

How about concussion with Nyx? I love the way you write him(& Cor & Crowe)! I love everything you've written for FFXV, I'm so grateful you decided to join the fandom. Thanks!

Concussion with Nyx, here you go! This one is more soft and has more comfort than the previous ones. Kid Prompto makes an appearance too!

Concussion

Blue X's have been completed, pink ones have been requested. Just a heads up, "shaking and shivering" and "hurts to breathe" have both been requested twice with different characters and I'll have to choose between them. I'm very sorry about that. If your request doesn't get done, feel free to request another one.

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Characters: Nyx Ulric, Cor Leonis, Prompto Argentum and Crowe Altius

Whumpee: Nyx Ulric

Word Count: 2324

Warnings: None

Can also be read on ao3 here

----

“You’re an idiot, you know?”

“Shut up,” Nyx groaned, pulling the thin hospital blanket over his head. Everything hurt. Well, mostly it was his head that hurt — a terrible, piercing throb that made him want to bury himself under a mound of blankets and pass out until it was over. The mattress dipped as someone, presumably Crowe since she was the one currently berating him, sat on the bed. Nyx resisted the urge to whine like a child. He knew for a fact that he was lying down on the bed, not moving at all, but still he felt dizzy as if the world around him was spinning uncontrollably. A hand squeezed his shoulder. It was comforting, a welcome distraction from the pain. Nyx leaned into the touch.

“You are an idiot,” Crowe repeated. There was no real heat behind the words this time, only worry. Nyx would have frowned if his head hadn’t felt like it was on the brink of exploding. “You know better than to let yourself hit stasis like that!”

Nyx muttered something incoherent in response. It had been an accident. He hadn’t exactly meant to push himself that far but he had been too deep in his head, in his memories, to notice the warning signs before it had been too late. Crowe was right to call him an idiot. “Sorry.”

Crowe huffed. Nyx felt her shift on the bed and then the blanket was tugged down from his face. Nyx made a small, disgruntled noise at it but then Crowe was brushing stray hair away from his face and planting a kiss on his forehead. “You need to be more careful. We don’t want to lose you Nyx.”

Nyx sighed and braved the light of day as he peeled his eyes open. At some point someone must have pulled the blinds and dimmed the lights because he could keep his eyes open without feeling the sharp, jagged pain that had burned him the last time he had made the mistake of opening his eyes in broad daylight. Nyx reached for Crowe’s hand half blindly because he didn’t want to move his head. “You’re not going to get rid of me that easily, you guys will be stuck with me for a long time.”

Crowe’s lips twitched into a brief smile. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Nyx gave her a small smile back before he closed his eyes again. The light, even as little of it as there was, still hurt his eyes. “Did you talk to the doc?”

“They’ll discharge you in a few hours if you don’t take a turn for the worse,” Crowe told him. She moved again and Nyx felt her lie down next to him, their arms touching. Nyx smirked and offered no complaints even with how cramped the bed was with them both on it. Ever since the day Nyx had met Crowe, the woman had operated on the ‘what’s your is mine’ mentality — which apparently extended to hospital beds now as well. Nyx didn’t mind though, not when it meant he didn’t have to be alone there. Hospitals sucked.

“You’ll probably have at least one week off work, maybe two,” Crowe continued. “Lib called Cor and he’ll be waiting for you at home. He would come here but he has to make some arrangements so he can take the next few days off to keep an eye on your disastrous ass.”

“You’re the disaster,” Nyx muttered petulantly in response.

Crowe laughed. “Says the one who’s in a hospital bed with a bad concussion.”

“Shut up.”

----

Around three hours later, Crowe pulled up at Nyx’s house. Nyx was sitting on the passenger seat, wearing one of Libertus’ old hoodies with the hood pulled deep over his head to shield his eyes from the sunlight. He looked far from a top soldier at that moment. Crowe had told him he looked more like a moody teenager and Nyx had made to smack at her, only to miss because he couldn’t actually see much with the hood over his eyes.

“Cor is walking to the car, he’ll be opening your door in a moment,” Crowe said. “I’ll have to take the car back to the Citadel but I’ll be back later with Lib and dinner.”

Nyx hummed in response and tried not to twitch when the door on his side was opened.

“Thanks for bringing him home,” Cor said, his voice a low rumble. Crowe must have told him about the noise sensitivity. Nyx appreciated it. “Do you need help walking inside?”

“No problem. And he does,” Crowe said before Nyx could even open his mouth. “His balance is all screwed up, he’ll just faceplant if you let him try on his own.”

“You’re such a menace,” Nyx told her and pulled the hood back just enough to send a weak glare at her.

“You know I’m right.” She sounded incredibly pleased with herself.

“Children,” Cor said pointedly. “As much as I enjoy the bickering, I believe the doctor’s orders were for Nyx to rest and I don’t think this car is the right place for it.”

“Good luck with that,” Crowe muttered. Nyx smacked her in the arm — actually hitting his target this time — and Crowe just laughed at him. “I really need to get going, though, I didn’t really ask for permission when I took the car.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Cor said and Nyx just knew he was rolling his eyes. “If you get in any trouble over this, let me know and I’ll clear it up with the right people.”

Nyx tuned out Crowe’s response as he slowly started maneuvering his legs out of the car. His head didn’t enjoy the movement at all and a groan slipped from Nyx’s lips as his headache intensified. He hated concussions from the bottom of his heart. He leaned his head against the headrest, already dreading the walk into the house.

“Let me help you,” Cor told him softly. Nyx sighed and gave him a tiny nod, not wanting to speak. That was all Cor needed as he reached into the car, his hand sliding under Nyx’s arm and behind his back. It took a minute, maybe two, but soon they had Nyx upright. He leaned heavily against Cor, his eyes screwed tightly shut as he tried to breathe through the pain and rising nausea. The dizziness wasn’t doing him any favors. Cor and Crowe exchanged a few more words but Nyx was too busy feeling miserable to pay attention to what was said. Then the car door was closed and Nyx heard it back out from the driveway.

“You ready to go inside?” Cor asked.

Nyx leaned his head against Cor’s shoulder and groaned. He wanted to go inside and lay down in his bed but that would require him to actually walk there and he wasn’t a fan of that. Staying outside wasn’t an option either, though. “I don’t really have a lot of options…”

“I could always carry you,” Cor suggested.

“Only if you want me to throw up on you.” Nyx scoffed, followed by a moan when it jarred his head. “Let’s just walk. I can do this.” If the last part sounded more like he was trying to reassure himself, Cor didn’t mention it.

They slowly made their way towards the house. Cor kept the pace slow, not rushing Nyx at all. Nyx felt embarrassed by the whole thing but there was no way he could walk faster or without the support from Cor. The biggest problem came with the porch steps. Nyx wanted to just sink to the ground and stay there, his bed be damned. He was hurting and miserable, he would be fine on the grass, it was a warm day. Cor didn’t let him though. He basically carried Nyx up the steps and to the door.

“Watch your step with the threshold,” Cor murmured softly as he opened the door for them and helped Nyx inside. Nyx, to his credit, didn’t trip on the threshold even with his eyes tightly closed.

“Daddy!”

Nyx winced at Prompto’s excited shout. It sent a sharp spike of pain through his head and Nyx buried his head into Cor’s shoulder with a groan. He loved Prompto but his concussed brain didn’t love how loud the boy could be at times. Small arms wrapped around Nyx’s waist, a head pressing into his hoodie in a hug. Nyx lowered one of his hands into the soft mop that was Prompto’s hair. His voice had a rough edge to it and it lacked its usual enthusiasm but he still made a point to smile at the boy as he greeted him, “Hi, buddy.”

Prompto took a deep breath, one that Nyx knew meant he was about to excitedly share any and all interesting things that had happened during the day. There was a sinking feeling in Nyx’s gut but Cor took control of the situation before Prompto could get started. “Prom, kiddo, do you remember what we talked about earlier?”

There was a pause, and Prompto hugged Nyx tighter before taking a step back. Under the hood, Nyx caught a tiny glimpse of a worried look on the boy’s face. “That- that daddy’s hurt and we need to be quiet so we don’t hurt him… did I hurt daddy?”

Nyx's heart clenched at the anxious tone in Prompto’s voice. He could never handle it when Prompto was upset. He carefully reached forward to ruffle the boy’s head. “You didn’t hurt me, I promise.”

“You should still keep your voice down from now on, okay, bud?” Cor told Prompto. “Maybe you can cuddle with daddy when we get him to bed, cuddle him back to health?”

“Cuddles?” Prompto asked, his eyes widening with hope as he looked at Nyx.

Nyx nodded, even at the risk of his head hurting. “I would like that. Why don’t you go and change into your comfy cactuar PJs and meet us in our bedroom?”

The boy gave them both a bright smile before turning on his heels and sprinting in the direction of his room. Nyx smiled softly as he sagged against Cor. He wanted to kiss him for coming up with the idea and distracting Prompto to keep him from worrying. “You’re the best.”

“You should lie down,” Cor told him, pressing a small kiss on Nyx's temple. Nyx closed his eyes, melting into Cor’s arms. Cor’s chest rumbled with a quiet laugh. “Let’s get you into bed.”

Nyx made a small noise in agreement and let Cor guide him into their bedroom. The moment he lay down, he sunk into the mattress with a pleased sigh. He had somehow forgotten just how soft and comfortable it was. Cor chuckled at him and wordlessly set on getting Nyx out of his shoes.

“I love you,” Nyx murmured, his voice low. Cor was really going above and beyond for him, doing all of this without any complaints. He had even taken some days off work if Crowe was right. Nyx didn’t deserve him.

Cor dropped Nyx’s shoes onto the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. He took Nyx’s hand in his and leaned forward to kiss him. “I love you too. Do you need anything — water, painkillers?”

“I’m fine.” Nyx shook his head a tiny bit. “I’m sorry… for this. I should’ve been more careful. You don’t have to stay to take care of me, I know you have work.”

Cor sighed. He pulled away from Nyx for a moment. There was a shuffling sound and Nyx belatedly realized it was Cor shrugging off his jacket and taking off his shoes. Then the bed shifted again as Cor climbed over him. Nyx frowned softly in confusion but then hands snaked under his shoulders and he was pulled against Cor’s side. “Of course I’m going to stay you dumbass. You’re more important.”

“I’m still sorry,” Nyx said. It had been idiotic to push himself that far, especially in traininig. He knew better than that. He needed to pay attention and mind his limits so this didn’t happen again. It had just hit him hard. In a few days, he would have lived yet another year without Selena at his side. All because he had failed to save her. The realization had made him push himself hard, too hard, to the point at which he had hit stasis while still in mid-air.

Cor ran his fingers through Nyx’s hair, soft and gentle, bringing Nyx back to the present. “Don’t be. Yes, maybe you should have been more careful but I know this is a tough time for you. It’s okay. Try to get some rest.”

“Papa? Daddy?”

Nyx turned his head towards the doorway where Prompto was standing. He had changed into PJs and even had his favorite chocobo plushie in his arms as he looked at Nyx and Cor unsurely. Nyx opened his arms. “Come here, buddy.”

Prompto seemed to hesitate a moment but then he dashed across the floor and climbed onto the bed. He crawled straight into Nyx’s arms and buried his face in his neck. “I love you, daddy.”

“I love you too, Sunshine,” Nyx murmured into Prompto’s hair, rubbing his hand along Prompto’s back. “Are you going to help me feel better?”

Prompto nodded. He pulled back from the hug, sitting on his knees next to Nyx as he looked at the chocobo in his hands. “Mr. Feathers wanted to come too. He’s soft an’ good at cuddling.”

Nyx’s heart just about exploded from the cuteness overload right there and then. He opened his arms for Prompto again and the boy snuggled against his side with Mr. Feathers between them. There they were, their small family of three — plus Mr. Feathers — cuddling on the bed. It didn’t take long for Nyx to fall asleep.

#badthingshappenbingo #final fantasy xv #concussion #hurt nyx ulric #nyx ulric #cor leonis #prompto argentum #child prompto argentum #papa cor #dad nyx ulric #hurt/comfort #fluff #my writing

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litwitlady · 4 years

Text

this godforsaken mess

Read on AO3.

Warnings: Casual homophobia/biphobia - angst

Angst Prompt #1 - ‘I don’t love you anymore.’

I don’t love you anymore, I don’t love you anymore, I don’t love you anymore. Alex recites the words in his head over and over again, hoping that at some point in the very near future he’ll believe them. But the clock is ticking and the sound of an old Chevy engine is growing louder by the second.

Michael pulls into Alex’s driveway and shuts his engine off. Alex stands in front of him, haloed by his headlights. They stare at each other through the windshield for far too long before Michael opens his door and slides out of the truck. It’s been one week since they last saw each other. And nearly eight since they’ve properly spoken.

Alex stuffs his hands in his pockets. ‘Thanks for doing this on such short notice.’ He doesn’t wait for a response, just turns his back to Michael and walks to his Explorer. It was supposed to be Forrest with him tonight, but he’d been called away to New York on book business. Finding a replacement date at 5:30 pm on a Friday afternoon proved impossible, until he’d done the unthinkable and called Michael.

He’d wanted to cancel - had dialed his CO’s number multiple times without pressing send. Alex had turned her down so many times before that canceling last minute seemed rude and childish and possibly ruinous to his career. But showing up dateless to a dinner party with several other couples seemed ruinous to his mental health, so he’d called everyone in his contacts list.

This whole night promises to end in disaster. He looks up as Michael walks towards the passenger side of his SUV and notices for the first time what he’s wearing. Or more accurately, what he’s not wearing. There’s no audacious belt buckle, no cowboy hat, no grease anywhere he can see. His jeans are new - dark wash denim and so perfectly snug that Alex wonders if they’ve been tailored. And instead of his usual button-up, Michael’s in a v-neck sweater - black cashmere from the looks of it. How Isobel got him to wear any of this is beyond Alex’s comprehension. ‘You look good.’

Michael shuts the door and stares at him. ‘Isobel forced me into Max’s clothes. The sweater’s itchy and the jeans are too long.’ He glances down to where the ends of his pants are cuffed. Same old worn boots on his feet.

That tiny piece of Michael makes Alex smile. ‘But not the boots, huh?’

‘Over my dead body.’ Michael risks smiling back. ‘You look good, too. But you always look good.’

Alex has to force himself to drag his eyes away, distracting himself with turning his key in the ignition. ‘Again, Michael. Thank you so much.’ The engine roars to life. ‘It’s more than I had any right to ask.’

‘No more apologies. Just fill me in on what I need to know to survive the night. She’s your boss, right?’ He pulls down the sun visor, messing with his hair while avoiding catching his own eye in the mirror.

‘Commanding Officer, yes. Major Denise Williams. Her husband’s name is Dan. There will be several other couples there - none of them military. All of them heterosexual. Everyone knows I’m gay and in a relationship. You’re a friend helping out last minute.’ Alex hopes none of the small talk ventures too close to their past. But the fear pooling in his stomach knows they’re going to be asked several uncomfortable questions.

‘Are we ex-lovers or do we avoid that entirely?’ Michael flips the sun visor shut and turns his gaze out the window. ‘To be honest, Alex. I’m not in the mood to lie.’

‘No lying. I loved you and you loved me. It didn’t work. We’re trying to be friends.’ The air in the SUV thickens. Michael shifts in the leather seat, crossing his ankles. ‘Hopefully, that will make the conversation awkward enough to shut everyone up.’

Michael nods and returns his focus outside. The rest of the drive is silent. Not even the radio filling the spaces between them.

The Major’s house is modest in size but well-tended. The yard mostly rock except for the occasional plot of prettily landscaped desert flowers and shrubbery. One large pinyon pine anchoring the space and providing a fair amount of late afternoon shade. Alex parks on the street behind a Subaru and cuts the engine. ‘You ready?’

‘I hope that’s a rhetorical question.’ Michael opens his door and slides out. Waits for Alex to walk around and join him. ‘You and I both know we aren’t ready for this.’ They share a meaningful look and step together towards the front door.

Alex raises a finger to press the doorbell, but the door swings open before he gets the chance. ‘Captain Manes, so good to see you again.’ Dan Williams extends his hand which Alex shakes.

‘You too, Dan. This is my friend, Michael Guerin.’ He motions to Michael who also extends his hand.

‘Nice to meet you, Michael. Come inside, you two. Denise is in the kitchen with our other guests.’ They cross the threshold and follow Dan into the kitchen, taking in their surroundings as they go. Michael making sure to note any exits in case a quick getaway is needed. Alex smirks at him, knowing exactly what he’s up to.

‘No crawling out of any windows, please,’ he mutters under his breath.

Michael smirks back at him. ‘No promises.’

‘Alex!’ A middle-aged blond woman greets them, lipsticked grin spread wide across her face and not at all what Michael had expected. She’s happily plump and her warmth radiates throughout the room. ‘And you must be Michael.’

‘Thank you for inviting us, Major. We got you a little something.’ He hands her a bottle of wine. ‘Dan texted me your favorite brand.’

She takes the bottle of Cabernet and pulls him into a hug. ‘No Major or Captain tonight. Just Denise and Alex. And thank you for the wine. I can be quite the lush when I’m off duty.’ She winks and Michael cannot believe this woman is in the Air Force. ‘Now come meet everyone.’

Denise introduces them to two other couples. Mark and Silvia who are close to Michael and Alex’s age. Bobby and Tally who are about ten years older. Everyone is pleasant and polite, spending most of the conversation focused on discussing the Williams’ bathroom rehab and their desire to put a pool in next summer. Michael gladly accepts a beer and Alex takes a glass of wine. They keep to the edges of the conversation, rarely offering more than a nod or a hum of agreement.

Somewhere along the way, they subconsciously press together - shoulder to hip. Oblivious until Tally smiles at them and asks the first devastating question of the night. ‘How long have you two been dating?’

Michael and Alex leap apart from each other like they’ve been burned. Alex cuts his eyes to Denise who steps in to save them. ‘I’m sorry, Alex. I forgot to inform everyone before you arrived.’ She turns to the group. ‘Alex’s boyfriend had to go out of town last minute. Michael is a good friend giving up his Friday evening to save Alex from facing us alone.’

Alex smiles his thanks and exchanges a look with Michael. ‘We used to date. In high school, mostly. Never worked out.’ It’s a version of the truth.

‘So, you’re both gay?’ Mark asks, innocently. Sipping at his own glass of wine.

‘I’m bisexual, actually.’ Michael answers, hiding his annoyance with a practiced ease.

The oven timer buzzes and Dan claps his hands. ‘Dinner’s ready. Everyone go grab a seat at the table.’ He shuffles everyone but Michael and Alex into the dining room.

Denise pulls the roast chicken from the oven and then takes them aside. ‘I’m so sorry. That whole conversation was my fault. I should have explained everything before you arrived. I guess I know why you’ve been avoiding this for so long, Alex.’

Alex does his best to fake a smile. ‘It’s okay, Major. I’ve handled worse.’

Dan returns to grab the chicken. Denise moves to follow him out of the kitchen. ‘Take a breather. Join us when you’re ready.’ She pats both of them on the arm and disappears.

‘I’m so sorry. We can leave it you want. She’d never hold it against me.’ He mindlessly gathers a fistful of Michael’s shirt and starts to tug him towards the front door. ‘I can text her from outside.’

Michael grabs hold of his waist. ‘Hey, stop. I’m okay. We’re okay. Like you said, we’ve handled way worse. Casual homophobia with a side of biphobia tainted with a shitload of ignorance? Piece of cake.’

That earns him a small smile. ‘Casual bigotry always feels particularly heinous.’

Neither is sure how they end up with their arms wrapped around each other, but regardless, that’s where they land. Hugged tightly together in a strange kitchen. The moment oddly intimate and entirely devoid of sex. They take a long moment to breathe one another in and relax. ‘I like Denise. I bet she’s a good boss. Not at all what I’d imagined.’

Reluctantly, Alex pulls away. He has trouble meeting Michael’s eye, standing so close. ‘She is a good boss. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t want to mix the professional with the personal. But everyone in my unit has been to one of her dinners. I couldn’t keep saying no.’

‘And it was supposed to be Forrest with you. The incredibly charming boyfriend who never lets anything ruffle his feathers. And who can spend endless hours talking about his research in a way that makes everyone swoon.’ Michael rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

‘Maybe you could regale them with your expertise on rebuilding engines. Or applied mathematics. Drug them all to sleep with your brilliance.’ Michael laughs loudly and from out of nowhere Alex wants to kiss him. Rarely has he ever wanted to kiss anyone so desperately. He white knuckles the counter behind him to keep himself from taking a step further, palms sweating and heart racing. I don’t love you anymore, I don’t love you anymore, I don’t love you anymore.

The chant hadn’t worked at the beginning of the night and it’s not working now.

Michael tilts his head towards the dining room. ‘Let’s go eat.’

Dinner goes well, the food is excellent. Alex and Michael get to fade into the background for a while as talk returns to home repair and upcoming travel plans. A little extra alcohol doesn’t hurt either. Alex notices they both drink enough to get a decent buzz going and to calm their nerves. Everyone at the table well ahead of them anyway. Alex is pretty positive the Air Force would frown upon his CO plying him with so much free booze, but he’s not planning on telling anyone so he takes another sip of wine.

Eventually, Silvia turns to Alex. ‘Denise tells us that you’re dating Forrest Long. I’ve seen him around town and know he’s helping his uncle out on the farm. How did you two meet?’

He can feel Michael bristle next to him. But there’s nothing he can do about that and his answer’s certainly not going to help either. ‘Through Michael, actually. They got to know each other at the local library, fighting over the microfiche reader.’

‘Oh, that’s so interesting. What were you researching at the library, Michael? If you don’t mind my asking, of course.’ Everyone turns their attention to Michael, and Alex mentally chastises himself.

‘Nothing special. Some family history and the 1947 UFO crash. Forrest was doing the same for his book.’ They all nod their heads and return to eating.

‘That’s sweet.’ Denise raises her glass to them. ‘Most exes can barely stand being in the same room together and here you two are playing matchmaker for each other. The only thing I ever wanted to do with one of my exes was fling them into the sun.’ She smiles across the table at her husband and everyone raises their glasses, laughing in agreement.

‘We’re not as well-adjusted as we sound. I’ve wanted to fling him into the sun more times than I can count. And I’m sure the same is true for him.’ Alex chuckles along with the group and glances at Michael. They smile fondly at each other and Michael takes another risk, placing his hand on Alex’s thigh underneath the table.

‘Yeah, but if I ever flung you into the sun, I’d just build a spaceship to go get you back.’ He squeezes Alex’s knee and his eyes soften.

‘Me, too.’ He plants his hand on top of Michael’s and the rest of the room fades away. It is the closest Alex has ever come to cheating on someone.

Dan clears his throat and they both jerk their heads in his direction. ‘Were you each other’s first loves?’

Michael starts talking before Alex manages to find suitable words. ‘Yes. We were two really soft kids with rough upbringings who found a home in each other. However briefly.’ The table falls silent until Mark begins the story of how he and his wife met working as lifeguards during college.

Dinner ends soon after. Dan and Denise making everyone a plate of food to take home and wishing everyone a goodnight. Denise waves to Michael, but pulls Alex aside. ‘He’s a sweet boy, Alex. I’m glad I got to meet him.’ She stares at him for a beat too long, eyebrows furrowed. ‘May I offer you some unsolicited advice? Please feel free to tell me to fuck off.’

Alex’s eyes widen at her swear. She laughs and shakes her head. ‘I never dreamed of being in the Air Force. And I sure as shit never intended to become a lifer. But life has a funny way of sending us down the right path - no matter how hard we fight against it.’ She gives him one last knowing look. ‘I’ll see you on Monday morning. Tell Michael I think he’s a delight.’

When Alex gets back to his Explorer, Michael is leaning against the driver’s side door. ‘Your keys.’ He’s holding out his hand.

‘I can drive.’ But even he has to admit the world is spinning slightly and his steps are more than little wobbly. Michael doesn’t pull his hand away. ‘Fine.’ He slaps his keys in Michael’s palm. ‘How come you’re so sober?’

‘Years of practice, baby. Plus, after the first beer, I strategically switched to water.’ He smirks and unlocks the car. Michael’s a constant marvel and Alex misses him so much.

The ride home is once again silent. Alex dozes off and wakes up to discover Michael leaning over his lap to unfasten his seat belt. ‘I miss you.’ He doesn’t mean to say it. But he’s glad it’s out in the open now.

Michael helps him slide out of his seat and plant his feet firmly on the ground. ‘That’s the wine talking. Just last week you avoided talking to me in the cereal aisle.’

‘I have to avoid you or something wrong will happen.’ Michael ignores him and walks him to his front door, using his telekinesis to click the deadbolt open. All Alex’s security lights turn on, flooding his patio with bright, blinding light. Returning some of his sense to him and flaming his cheeks with embarrassment. ‘I’m sorry. You’re right. I had too much wine.’

Michael nods, letting the whole thing go with a shrug. ‘You okay on your own?’

‘Yeah. Thanks again. For everything. I owe you.’ Alex wants to hug him. Wants to kiss him back in time to the moment right before he’d kissed Forrest that first time. But he doesn’t do either. ‘Goodnight, Michael.’

‘Night, Alex.’ He turns and strides to his truck. The darkness of night stealing him from Alex’s sight.

The Chevy disappears down the street, the chug of the engine growing fainter as the stars shine overhead. And Alex tries one last time. I don’t love you anymore, I don’t love you anymore, I don’t love you anymore.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #background forlex #angst #angst prompts

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marshmellowtea · 4 years

Note

marshy I swear to god if you don't talk about your "nikei in the re birth kg" au asap, I will cry. (from irlyomiurinikei! also hi ily now go talk about what makes you happy)

FJDFLKJDSFKL @irlyomiurinikei HI I’M SORRY FOR NOT RESPONDING RIGHT AWAY PLEASE DON’T CRY :’)

i probably should do the general seishi+nikei sib headcanons first but screw it we doin’ this out of order lmao

but honestly i’m,, not really sure what to say? partially because i don’t wanna say too much cuz i,, kind of wanna make a fic of it (but knowing me i’m kind of a disaster when it comes to actually writing so idk hasdfklsjdfl) but also because i haven’t figured everything out yet RIP. i’m more of a broad concept guy, y’know?

however! i do have some ideas, and i’ll kinda just,, put them here:

first off, this au is based off miwa’s version and death order because uhhh. yeah lmao

also my version of seishi is sort of based off voice’s earlier version with a heavy dose of mental health issues and intricacies because what they were planning on doing with his character is absolutely awful and bs okay?? as badly as maki’s character arc was handled, her trauma and recovery (as botched as it was) is infinitely more compelling than just “evil guy does bad things” SO here we go

i think it’d be interesting if when they run into each other in the school after being apart for a while and their last meeting was uh,, not great. so there’s a lot of emotional baggage there lol

seishi sees nikei and starts running for him because he’s relieved to see his brother in this weird creepy place and nikei immediately bolts away from him as fast as possible because a b*tch loves avoiding his problems smh

poor ayumu walks in on them arguing and is immediately exposed to all this family drama can we get an f in the chat

akira wasn’t planning on having sixteen students in his kg so when he realizes nikei and seishi were siblings he was like “nice let me just put another bed in this room”

so now they’re back sleeping in the same room again just like when they were kids. send help

tbh i’m not sure how nikei’s development is gonna go in a killing game without void? obviously he’s not gonna go on like. a murderous revenge planning spree without that stupid wizard there hasdkfjsdlkf. there’ll definitely an arc involving him reconnecting with seishi but other than that nothing’s really planned but i’m working on it okay

even though there’s still some hard feelings between the two of them i feel like with nikei being the only one knowing seishi’s secret he would have some protectiveness over him, y’know?

he’s a good brother he just won’t admit it

he probably has a rivalry with mikoto because how dare she stalk his brother and be “suspicious” of him i mean she has good reasons for it of course but still hdlfkajsdlfkdsf

and seishi is definitely protective over nikei. fight me if you don’t think seishi’s the loyal type okay

i have like. ideas with seishi being a little trigger happy and self-sacrificing on nikei’s behalf and nikei’s just like “uhhh what did they do to you were you always this messed up??”

also. something something seiyumu cuz you can pry them from my cold, dead hands (but obviously they don’t get together like. right off the bat or anything that’s not healthy. there’s a process, pfft)

they’re both gonna have their own story going on but a lot of the focus is on them rekindling their siblingship because i’m. weak

that’s probably all i should say for now because it’s getting late and i need to get to bed lol. i’ll definitely probably talk about it later and maybe write it but we’ll see haha- BUT tysm for letting me babble about it aaaaAAAAAAA

#sdra2 #drrb #seishi yodogawa #nikei yomiuri #marshy speaks #i'll make a tag for this au later #i can't think of anything clever rn dshflkajfsdlk #aaaaaaa i love these two though #i think about them while i suffer through work everyday RIP :')#also me writing posts be like "drops hints that i don't like m*kado HFLDJHDFSLJK #anon #marshy answers #edit: dunno if the tag worked last night hsubdubdyv oops

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leftpress · 5 years

Link

Bernie Sanders | July 24th 2019 | Socialist Project

Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.) and Rep. Ilhan Omar (D-Minn.) led a group of 13 members of Congress urging the US Department of Labor to immediately investigate chronic violations of workplace safety at all Amazon warehouses, “owing to the breadth and severity of past violations as well as mounting public revelations of brutal and hazardous working conditions.”

Their letter to the Department of Labor’s Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA) comes in the wake of a Monday work stoppage by Amazon warehouse workers in Minnesota to protest unfair and unsafe conditions in the midst of Prime Day, Amazon’s biggest sales event of the year.

Dear Deputy Assistant Secretary Loren Sweatt:

We are writing to request that the Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA) launch a comprehensive investigation into the workplace conditions at the warehouses from which Amazon.com, Inc. and its subsidiaries and contractors operate.

In the year 2019, working conditions in the United States of America should be the best and the safest in the world. Unfortunately, according to numerous media reports, and reflected in previous fines levied by your agency, that is not the case at Amazon. In fact, the working conditions at this highly profitable company have been described as “unsafe,” “bruising,” “grueling,” “a recipe for disaster,” putting “workers and communities at risk,” and “intrusive.”1

Work Stoppage on Prime Day

Just this week, Amazon workers in Minnesota organized a work stoppage in order to protest their employer’s unfair, unsafe practices. Workers at the Minneapolis facility, and all of Amazon’s warehouses across the country (referred to by the company as “fulfillment centers” and “sortation centers”) undertake work that is physically demanding, often requiring walking more than 10 miles in a single shift and repeatedly lifting heavy objects, all while being afforded minimal rest breaks, not being allowed to sit, and being forced to work “mandatory overtime” shifts.2

This work environment creates a high risk of physical injuries, a risk increased by Amazon’s intentional disregard for the health and safety of their employees. Last year the National Council for Occupational Safety and Health (NCOSH) put Amazon on its “dirty dozen” list of most dangerous places to work in the United States, referencing Amazon’s “disturbing pattern of preventable deaths,” which includes “seven workers killed at Amazon warehouses since 2013 – including three workers within five weeks in 2017.”

Earlier this year, Mother Jones published an investigation showing that “hazards on the warehouse floor can launch months and years of medical injury that ultimately result in worker disability.” When workplace injuries occur, Amazon has repeatedly ignored their severity. Last year The Guardian published an investigation that revealed “numerous cases of Amazon workers suffering from workplace accidents or injuries in its gigantic warehouse system and being treated in ways that leave them homeless, unable to work or bereft of income.”

Desperate Working Conditions

Hundreds of stories shared with our offices paint a picture of desperation and a corporate employer with little regard for the health of its employees. We heard from an Amazon worker who described the warehouse as a “21st century sweatshop.” Workers shared stories of high temperatures in some warehouses and an inability to take water or bathroom breaks for fear of retaliation: “I myself take medication so I will not have to use the restroom and drink little fluids also to help. Sometimes I think is this torture really worth it??;” “afraid to drink water for fear of not hitting [his] rate;” “no air conditioning when it’s hot in the facility;” “the air conditioning was not working and you could easily pass out from the heat in Arizona going on 115 that week;” “please help stop the mandatory overtime and ten hours shift in a humid atmosphere.” One worker issued this plea: “please send OSHA to investigate these conditions that are affecting workers physically and mentally.”

In addition to the intense physical stress, Amazon pushes workers to the emotional brink. Over the last five years, emergency workers were called to Amazon warehouses at least 189 times at 46 different locations for workers experiencing a mental health breakdown or at imminent risk of suicide. A navy veteran and former Amazon employee told our offices that “there was a point where I would find myself crying on my shift… I really felt like I just didn’t wanna be alive anymore.”

In another story shared with our offices, a former Amazon employee said, “working at Amazon was one of the most depressing periods of my life. For nearly four years I worked in isolation barely speaking to anyone. At work you never heard much from anyone other than how much they hated it there and wanted to leave. I imagine prison is very similar… My mental state began to decline until I began to feel unstable. My nights were spent walking around in circles in the warehouse pulling things from shelves for hours until it made me want to snap. One day I just broke. I found myself unable to get out of bed where I stayed for five straight days. I ate nothing. I thought about suicide.”

Workers also commented directly on injuries and safety concerns: “someone would get injured in the building every day. They would talk about working safely yet keep demanding high rates. That’s why there were so many injuries. They also filled WAY too many items in the warehouse. This caused items to fall off shelves onto workers. It was common to hear someone received a concussion or back injury.” Another worker noted that safety was disregarded during busier periods: “while generally my supervisors are concerned about safety that seems to fly out the window when we are under pressure to fill orders on time.” Another worker said, “I frequently see the ambulance come to the warehouse. Three laborers fainted in front of me – they keep a wheelchair in the middle of the warehouse.”

Amazon operates more than 100 warehouses across the country that employ more than 125,000 people,3 and yet in the last five years OSHA has reported conducting only 150 inspections of Amazon spaces and issued just 41 violations.4 OSHA has previously found that Amazon fails to report worker injuries and when OSHA does investigate, your agency has found instances of egregious injuries, including fractures and amputations.5

In one year at one facility, OSHA found 26 separate cases of “work-related fatality, injury or illness” that Amazon failed to report. Those incidents included falls resulting in head injuries, face wounds that were “glued closed,” as well as a number of severe back, shoulder, and wrist strains. After finding these unreported injuries, OSHA issued one “other-than-serious” violation with a penalty of $7,000.

When Amazon employee Phillip Terry was “fatally crushed when a forklift’s lift fell on him while he was doing maintenance work on it,” the corporation was fined just $28,000 for “failure to ‘provide adequate training’ and to develop and document certain safety procedures.”

That is unacceptable. Owing to the breadth and severity of past violations as well as mounting public revelations of brutal and hazardous working conditions, we request that OSHA launch a thorough and comprehensive investigation into the workplace conditions at all of Amazon’s warehouses, and that any violations uncovered in the course of such an investigation be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. OSHA’s mission is to “ensure safe and healthful working conditions for working men and women.” We ask that you intensify your efforts to ensure that goal is met for all Amazon workers. No employee, especially those who work for the wealthiest person in the world, should be forced to work in unsafe conditions.

We look forward to your response. Sincerely,

Bernard Sanders United States Senator

Ilhan Omar Member of Congress •

A PDF of this letter is available here.

Further information: “Amid Amazon Prime Day Protests, Sanders and Omar Lead Call for Probe of ‘Brutal and Hazardous Working Conditions’,” by Jessica Corbett.

[Read More On LeftPress.org]

#News

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lokibug · 5 years

Text

Darkness

Pairing: Loki x Avenger!Reader

Summary: You have an power that is set off far more rapidly due to mood, you often reduce your feelings. Loki understands and helps you embrace your negative emotions.

Warning(s): Mental Health issues, Cursing, Angst

A/N: This isn’t the best organized story but sometimes we need to cry and this is a story about that. Ive also got a quote from somewhere that inspired me to write this. I’m not positive where from, though.

The ceiling. The ceiling is the first thing y/n spent staring at every morning for an hour. The composure was something she needed, to endure the rest of the day. Recently being able to do so had become more and more of challenge.

Just like any other day, she refreshened herself in the tower’s bathroom. However, she was in luck since she had the level all to herself. Typically Wanda would be in her chambers but she was on leave alongside Vision. They had taken up a small mission in Japan.

Today would be normal, quiet. Everyone would be to themselves and the day would be over just as quickly as it had started. Perhaps she would just take a walk around the park, see a movie alone. Avoid the others as much as she could without giving off the wrong impression.

Running a hand through her hair, she walked into the dining room. Suddenly all the voices that were speaking in hushed tones, silenced.

“Happy Birthday, y/n!” the team mates spoke in unison.

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as she glanced at the tower of iced and sprinkled waffles placed upon a silicone plate. Her eyes darted from the waffles to the nearby window and panic slightly spread through her body. Seeing the clouds pick up pace she took a deep breath and masked a smile. She couldn’t let her emotions get the best of her, her powers came with a horrid side effect. Weather change.

“Thank you guys,” she rubbed the back of her neck, “how’d you know?”

Folding the newspaper he was reading, Tony peeked behind his reading glasses, “Your file. Pepper did the honors of filing your birthday into the system last year when you joined the team.” He stood up and glanced at the waffles. “The tower of diabetes was the kid’s idea.”

Peter came into the dining room sliding with his socks upon his feet. “Aw! Did you guys surprise her without me?”

“If you had gotten up on time then you would’ve been here, kid.” Tony spoke after sipping on whatever was in his mug.

“Thank you Peter.” Y/N said after containing herself. She allowed a small smile as he embraced her gently. Along came birthday wishes from the rest of the team before they exited for their daily duties.

The one person y/n’s eyes searched for, was Loki. She met them when he was gently leaning against the marble counter. His eyes fixated on her as if he had been studying her since entered the dining room. Noticing her notice him, Loki lifted up the glass mug in her direction slightly without any words spoken. She delicately nodded as if to say, “Thank you for not making a huge deal of this nightmare of a day.”

Snapping her out of her thoughts, Thor placed a hand on her shoulder, “Congratulations on your day of birth lady y/n. Jane sends her best wishes.” A Congratulations wasn’t the term that should be used for such a day in her mind. It was...a mistake. Instead of indulging her new friend in her sorrows, she smirked and nodded.

“Thanks Thor, tell Jane thanks too.” He smirked and sat back down at the table.

Loki unfolded his arms from his chest and began walking forward. He met eyes with y/n and stared at her till he walked past her with the mug.

Loki and y/n shared an unspoken bond. They were both...different. They weren’t naturally gifted with being as honorable as their team mates. Both were once considered a villain of the public.

Y/N had been misguided while aging, raised by those with malicious intentions. This was only the path down the wrong road, that was until the avengers met her. Last minute, using her abilities for the greater good.

Now that she had a new found family, disappointing them was a crippling thought. Lately, the pressure was on. Any normal person suffering from these anxiety attacks could embrace them...feel them. Y/N on the other hand, anxiety was the first step in obliterating the streets with hectic winds and disaster.

In her eyes, being alone was a simpler task than interacting. Y/N glanced at the stack of waffles and sighed. There was a delicately iced spider right on top along with a little sun resembling her own power. She cradled the overly heavy plate and walked back towards her room and allowed the door to shut lightly behind her.

Loki glanced out the window of his bed room clenching the coffee mug in his pale hands. The skies were gray, typical for New York on a normal. However, the newscast had predicted otherwise as they were expecting sunny skies. Being the mischievous person he was, he snooped through y/n’s file upon her arrival. She was like him, a villain, in his right mind, he wouldn’t trust someone like this. Upon reading through her records, he discovered a few things about her. Ever since, analyzed and watched her in silence.

“Birthday blues?...” he mumbled while taking another sip.

Y/N glanced in the mirror as she popped two anti-depressant pills into her mouth. She barely recognized herself, if she thought she was furious with herself before...she was beyond a breaking point now.

“Y/F/N (friend’s name) you would’ve really enjoyed it here,” she sat upon her bed clutching the torn up teddy bear, “the coffee doesn’t taste like the shit we found outside Mc Donald’s.” Y/N’s transforming mission was also the one that cost her, her best friend. Survivors guilt was all that could describe her feelings. That, blaming herself for being brought into this world, not saving her...became a reaction to the mental battle she faced daily.

Memories roamed her mind and she gently closed her eyes in hopes of stopping them from racing. Sleep arrived, saving her from herself once more.

Hours later, Y/N stood in front of that haunting mirror image. Only this time it was decorated with an expensive dress and a mask of makeup. Instead of her bed room, it was the bathroom of the expensive venue Tony rented out for the evening. He had planned a birthday celebration with Pepper for y/n a month ago. Among the guests were her team mates, members of other teams, fellow company employees, along with their plus ones. Y/N had made her way to the bathroom for a simple breather. Mingling with people she hadn’t met before and being handed drinks she didn’t want to drink with food she didn’t want to eat, drained her.

As she exited the bathroom, she stood in the hallway staring at her phone. Her heels pressed into the fancy carpet as she bit her knuckle. An immense feeling of escape was bubbling and it was dancing with the fear of disappointing her friends.

“Alone when there’s such a...lovely? Party going on in your honor?” A voice spoke snapping her out of her trance.

Her face rose to meet the eyes of none other than Loki. She had to admit he did look amazing in a suit. “I um,” she smiled widely, “just about to head back.” Her face was pure lies and Loki knew it. It almost pained him to see it unfold before his own eyes when he knew the truth.

“Of course, after 30 minutes of standing in the lady’s room admiring yourself I’m guessing,” he sarcastically commented, “unlike the baboons I share a roof with, I notice my surroundings...all of the time.” He stepped closer to her. His eyes scanned her whole domineer, it baffled him how no other member took notice in her obvious suffering.

“What now? You going to go run and tell Tony how I hate this expensive and beautiful party he’s given me? Because if you are, it’s only going to cause more problems that I don’t need.” She slid her phone back into her purse.

Loki let out a soft chuckle, “The opposite actually. Come hither, we’re leaving.” He turned his back and began walking towards the exit in the hallway.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as to just what he meant. He glided with confidence that she’d follow, and she did. The shuffling of her dress made it known that she had. Soon they were outside and Loki had shifted from himself to Tony.

“W-what do you think you’re doing? What’s going on?” She said in a worried voice as she glanced around.

“Be quiet love, I’m taking you somewhere and I can’t let you ride on my back. Well...I can but that’s hardly appropriate.” He smirked and turned towards her.

Y/N groaned and rolled her eyes but remained silent. They approached the valet parking attendants and Loki cleared his voice, managing his best Tony impression. “Yes, can you fetch my car.”

The young man looked up quickly and said, “Oh Mr. Stark—why are you leaving so early?”

He looked towards y/n, “My dear friend here is a bit under the weather. I’m going to take her home. So please, my car.”

“Why yes of course sir, right away. Bring up Mr. Stark’s car.” He commanded another attendee.

Loki turned towards y/n and smirked. She crossed her arms and huffed beneath her breath, “You’re unbelievable. He’s going to find out and when he does, you’re not taking me down with you.”

Soon a shiny black Lamborghini was pulled in front of the two and y/n’s jaw nearly dropped. She was still not used to Tony’s luxurious living and this was astonishing.

Loki went to the car and opened her door for her as she entered. He got in through the other side.

“Thanks!” He shouted before driving off quickly.

Y/N gasped, “I don’t even have a seatbelt on, wait.”

Loki’s green magic shimmered over him as he transformed back into himself, “For someone who can take the power of a lightning bolt through her body, you’re quite jittery.”

Going full speed, he made his way through back streets all the way to a back highway.

“Shut up. Where are we going? This is technically grand theft auto.” She gripped her knee as she seen the moon slightly disappear behind dark clouds. Noticing this, Loki smirked to himself.

“Well would you rather me leave you at the party with people that don’t even know your name?” He shot back.

“Yeah because you know me so well.” She sarcastically spoke.

Loki gripped the wheel as he made his way around the road. Y/N couldn’t admit it, but it was a thrill. Being used to not feeling anything, this was a nice change. Though, her eyes were still fixated on the sky.

“I know you far better than you think.”

Her eyes glanced at the man driving and he peeked back at her through the corner of his eye. He pushed forward.

Twenty minutes passed when he pulled over to the side of the road. A landscape, a clear landscape of nothing but dirt and rocks. “Out.” He commanded.

She blinked a few times as she glanced around, “Where the hell are we? Loki, why did you bring me here?” She was becoming agitated as she seen him smirk.

The clouds began letting down small sprinkles of water. He walked towards the middle of the landscape and shouted over to her, “You’re living a lie.”

She remained quiet as she walked towards him, a small panic scorching her body as she felt the small droplets of water.

“I...I have to.” She was tired of lying. Loki standing here in front of her, confronting her...she didn’t feel the need to lie. She felt as if she were five inches tall.

“For what? For them? The public?” He spat out. In a way he was almost scolding himself.

“Why does it matter to you anyways?” She angrily spoke back as the rain moved faster.

“Y/N I watch you, every single day. You pretend to be someone you are not. Righteous. Pretending like you’re not angry at the universe for taking what’s yours.”

Her heart thumped as she grit her teeth together, “I asked why do you fucking care!”

He gripped her shoulders, “Because! You’re like me! You’re dying inside and it’s painful to watch! I’m here to teach you how to rid yourself of the burden you’ve carried so long, y/n.”

She looked up at him as her chest heaved and the rain began soaking their hair. “You won’t feel the same about me if I do..” she mumbled looking down. The attraction towards Loki wasn’t something she denied but how could she allow herself into someone’s life if she could barely endure her own?

Loki circled her and stood behind her, “Light is easy to love...show me your darkness.”

The rain dripped down her cheeks as if she were showering. Her fists clenched until her knuckles turned white. “I can’t...” She croaked out as tears fell.

“Yes you can y/n. Never deny your feelings...”

“I’ll hurt people, I-I don’t wanna do that anymore.” She turned to face him.

“There’s no one for miles, love. Let me show you.” He took her hand and faced the other side of the road. He took a deep breath before screaming as loud as he could into the raining night sky. Y/N watched him and her hand shook along with the rest of her body. He took a deep breathe, “You try.”

Y/N looked at him for reassurance and he nodded, “Ahhh!” She screamed out and thunder rumbled.

“Yes, keep going y/n. Do it again. Shout it, what troubles you.” He released her hand and stepped back.

She nodded and looked down, “I hate you! I hate being you! You let her die!” She sobbed as the rain hit down harder than before. Lightning sparked in the clouds. “You’ll never be what they want you to be! I’ll never be that! I’m here! I exist!” She screamed out while her arms extended. Loki watched cautiously as her body shook and he held an arm over his head to stop the rain from hitting his eyes.

“I-I’m here! I made it!” Right as she shouted a bolt of lightning struck down in front of her causing her to fall to the ground and dig her hands into the muddy floor. Her shoulders shook and immediately Loki went over to her and collected her into his embrace.

“I exist..” she mumbled into his shoulder as she cried.

“I know y/n...and you’ll keep living...” he rubbed the back of her soaked head.

She gripped onto his suit tightly embracing him. The negative feelings being released and a weight off her shoulders, “Thank you...thank you so much.” She said into his neck. “You have no idea...h-how long I’ve been waiting..”

“...Happy Birthday y/n...”

Loki taglist: @drakesfiance @sunflqweroses @bambamwolf87 @pandaqua @bonelessbarnes @dorkybryan @hunter-demigod-timelord @thatmemequeen @powerstrangerdacre @barnes-infinity-bucky @kcd15 @evanicoya @yuukiiiiasuna @lou-makes-me-strong @gabealien12 @vethrvolnir @noahlizzz @archy3001

Permanent Taglist: @libbymouse @keithseabrook27 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @nephalem67 @tina8009 @marvelismylifffe @gwendolyn-loves-gay

#loki #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x oc #loki fic #loki fanfiction #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #avengers x reader #avengers #avengers fanfiction

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sammyspreadyourwings · 5 years

Note

maylor / 7 bookstore!au / 5 unrequited love / 32 “shut up for a second, will you”

Bookstore Unrequited

I kind of did a 5+1 in that, but this is kind of just Brian being dumb. John being tired. I am legitimately bad at unrequited love, ngl. I should note that this is a cafe-bookstore hybrid.

Circa Modern Era

He’s blond.

Brian looks up from his book at the ring off the bell. As expected, the familiar blond enters and smiles at him before taking his usual spot in the corner and hauling out three thick textbooks and a notebook. He smiles to himself, watching the play of light on blond hair. It’s dumb, truly, for him to be so enthralled with a person he’s exchanged maybe ten words too.

His eyes drift back to the paragraph discussing the heat death of the universe. He reads the same sentence three times before someone comes to the register. They set their books down and Brian quickly checks them out.

“Thank you and have a nice day!”

The girl, who is a cute red-head, winks at him, “I just might, cutie.”

Brian flushes and awkwardly waves as she waltzed out of the store. He glances up to meet stunning blue eyes. Quickly he looks away towards where John is wiping down a mug and raising an accusing eyebrow at him. It’s enough to make him look back to his heat death paragraph and wonders if that would be such a bad thing.

He’s a medical student

Brian is not entirely sure when he little infatuation with the blond (a medical student according to John) turned into a crush. It’s odd because he doesn’t think he’s ever heard the blond speak. Hell, he doesn’t know anything about the guy except for that he’s a medical student and drop-dead beautiful.

John continually makes fun of him for it.

Brian says he stares just to pass the time.

Oh, and he knows that the blond comes in at 14:40 every Tuesday and stays until closing time. The semester prior he came in at 8:50 and stayed until noon. Brian is happy that he’s at least making it to the store.

He spends time between equations picturing what he’ll say to the blond when he finally works up the nerve to greet him. There are at least twelve ways that he deems acceptable if he approached first, and zero ways if the blond approaches him.

Why would someone that stunning want to talk to him anyway? Unless of course its to buy something, but that would be a break in the pattern.

His coffee order

Brian knows its an issue when he memorizes the blond’s order. It just happens to be the first time he heard him speak, Brian was stocking the bottom shelf next to the little café.

“Banana nut muffin and a flat white with a shot of espresso, soy milk, and one and three-sevenths sugar?”

He doesn’t know why the voice sends his heart somersaulting down to his stomach, but Brian can’t stop thinking about it. The order is also specific enough that he asks John at closing what it was about.

“Seriously? You’re asking his coffee order before his name?”

“You know that don’t you?”

“I’m not telling you,” John wraps the scarf around his neck, “and the sugar thing is a joke between us.”

Brian tries really hard to not be jealous that John has a joke with him.

He’s single

“Good news,” John says dryly, “blondie is single. Just broke up with some bloke.”

Brian tries to stifle the smile at that, because the chances of him getting a date increase fractionally, it goes from a zero percent chance to a two percent chance.

“Now that we know that, can you please stop pining? It’s not good for morale.”

“We’re the only two working.”

John shrugs, “hostile work environment.”

“I can’t just go up to him and say ‘hi, I’m Brian, I’ve been watching you in a totally noncreepy way for the past several months, do you want to go get coffee,” Brian sputters.

“Leave out the part of you watching him and it’s literally fine,” John snorts.

Brian blinks, “It’s indecent!”

John starts walking away, “It’ll be a miracle if you ever have sex if you think asking someone for coffee is indecent.”

Brian is about to yell something when the bell rings and lo and behold enters the man of the hour (or any hour for Brian). The blond offers a smile before wandering over to his spot. He has a different book with him. John points at the blond and then mimes walking up to him.

He buries his head back in the textbook about the rubber band theory of expansion. Maybe if he falls too deeply, he’ll snap back to his senses.

His best friend’s name

Naturally, it doesn’t happen. Brian is in deeper than he thought possible. He’s never fantasized about a crush before, especially an idle one that will never happen, but lately he’s been having dreams about what it would be like to go on dates and hold hands and kiss.

His dream last night was them going on a stargazing trip and just laying in the grass looking up.

“Your wet dreams suck,” John replies, “seriously. Just talk to him before this bites you in the ass and you crash and burn.”

Brian supposes it’s fair. John was around for what was the mercy death of his relationship with Chrissie. Then for the fallout that was his mental health after the breakup. Maybe he has been single for a long time and now he’s just projecting his desire for a relationship onto the first pretty face he sees.

“No, it’s just his guy.”

The day that the blond misses his now Thursday mid-day binge (Brian wonders if a sign that they’re schedules keep syncing up three semesters into this disaster, John tells him he’s delusional), he gets disappointed. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before, but it is a highlight of Brian’s week.

He jumps when someone slams their hands on the counter. Brian looks up to spot a dark-haired man who looks hurried. Brian wonders if they’re finally being robbed, but after a second look, the man just looks worried.

“May I help you?”

“Yes, sorry for startling you,” the man takes a deep breath, “but have you seen a blond, yay high, blue eyes and the tackiest shoes you’ve ever seen?”

It’s so terribly tragic that he knows exactly who the man is looking for, “no, not today, he’d be in that corner.”

The man turns and looks towards the vacant table and chair. He runs a hand through his hair, “okay, hm.”

“If you leave your name, I can tell him you were looking for him?”

“Oh, thank you, darling. It’s Freddie.”

Brian offers a friendly smile, “I hope you find him.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s fine. The bastard is just running around in the jacket I was going to wear for a date.”

With that, the man exits the store. Brian sends John a slightly overwhelmed look. John blinks and turns around as if that never happened. He snorts.

“Thanks for your help, John.”

The day Brian works up the courage to ask the blond (probably love of his life at this point, John is never going to let him live this down), is the day he receives his acceptance for graduate school.

It’s also the first day that the blond breaks the habit. Brian is reading about the Big Rip theory and barely understanding it when someone taps on his arm.

He looks up and spots stunningly blue eyes. Brian has never seen them up close before, and it’s probably a good thing because he gets lost in those eyes within seconds. The blond tilts his head and Brian shakes his.

“How can I help you?”

His voice didn’t crack with the nerves, that’s a victory in his book.

“I actually wanted to ask you something?”

Brian nods and wonders how a voice that mystical can exist, “oh, sure.”

The man hesitates and lets out a long breath, “I wanted to ask your name? It’s just that we’ve sort of known about each other for two years and haven’t actually said anything to each other.”

Behind the man, Brian sees John stop in shock.

“Oh right, I’m Brian.”

“Roger,” the blond man grins.

This is his chance, Brian inhales sharply, “actually I wanted to ask you something? I was wondering if you would want to get coffee sometime? I mean, we don’t have to get coffee and it doesn’t have to be a date sort of thing even though that’s kind of how I meant it, but whatever you’re comfortable with I-”

“Just shut up will you?” Roger laughs, “I was about to ask you the same.”

“Oh. Coffee? As a date?”

Roger’s smile softens, “and here I thought you were going to be tall dark and handsome.”

“Mostly tall.”

Brian is in serious trouble he knows because the laugh makes him fall deeper in this sort of admiration love he’s found himself in. At least he has a name to go with the face.

“Want to go get some after your shift?”

“Yeah, I’m off at-”

“17:00, I know.”

Maybe Roger is also in serious trouble.

#maylor #ask meme fill #writing prompt fill #drabble #y'all I posted two whole things today #truly accomplished!#and neither one are angsty!#I haven't written any really angsty shit in awhile #hmmmmmm #Anonymous

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themadlostgirl · 5 years

Text

Not Dead Yet (Part 70)

Pairing: Reader x Peter Pan

Warnings: language

“I don’t see how this will help my situation.” Peter grumbled as we waited on the shore. It was early in the morning. I hated to get him up so early when he should be resting but this needed done sooner rather than later.

The Jolly Roger was waiting in the lagoon. The long boat made its way towards us. I had dropped by last night after talking at length with Peter and told Hook to come to the island. Alone. No weapons. No surprises. We needed to talk. That was it. He was also to bring the lantern Peter had enchanted years ago with him.

“Good morning, Killian.” I greeted him as he stomped through the wet sand towards us.

“May we skip the pleasantries and get to the point of this meeting?” he snapped.

“If I were you I would be nicer to us or did you forget exactly what we can do?” I smirked and he glowered.

“Morning,” he muttered, “What do you want?”

“Always so pleasant.” I sighed. “We’re here with a gift, captain.”

“I’m not interested in any kind of gift you two threw together.”

“I think you might once you see it.” I held up a magic bean. “Interested now?”

“You need an errand?”

“No.” I stepped closer to him. He made to draw his sword but only grabbed air where the hilt should be. “This isn’t a game or a joke or a job. We’re letting you go.”

He eyed the pair of suspiciously. “No. It’s too easy.”

“I understand why you don’t trust us. There isn’t anything to trust. But I swear this isn’t a trick.” I dropped the bean into his hand and curled his fingers around it, “You and your crew are free.”

“Why? Why now? Why’d you want me to bring the lantern?”

“We’re bored of you. No point in keeping old drunk pirates around anymore.” I shrugged, “As for the lantern, that is for your benefit. A final assurance that we mean what we say. You’re not in our employ anymore.”

I grabbed the lantern and handed it to Peter. He waved his hand over it and the constant flame that alerted the captain to where we need him finally extinguished. “There. You gonna leave now?” Peter said.

Hook looked between us, the lantern and the bean before turning around and heading back towards his ship. “Feel better?” I asked Peter.

“Physically or mentally?” he dropped the glamour he had been keeping up. He was still weak but there was some more life behind his eyes.

“We agreed this was for the best. No unnecessary magic.” I looped his arm around me, “Now that that is over with let’s go back to bed.”

After Hook left things got better. We continued to cut out any uses of magic he didn’t need. No teleporting, healing, lighting fires, and the like. We were no longer bringing boys to the island since Peter’s shadow on the island gave him more energy. Most days he would sleep in the highest branches of his Thinking Tree. Felix and I were keeping the boys in line while he was resting. Peter was looking much better and wasn’t puking up blood. Even the island seemed to be healthier. The fruit was riper and the skies were clear.

The only problem was strangely Peter himself. As well as he’s been doing he has been so incredibly annoying. Staying in his tree and resting and having to walk everywhere and do everything manually was driving him crazy. He wanted to run and have fun but if I caught him over-exerting himself I was able to firmly guilt him back into cooperating.

I wasn’t proud of using guilt to keep him complacent but there was no other way. I’d see him at the training grounds trying to fight with one of the boys and we’d get into a fight about it. He’d insist he was feeling better and that I wasn’t in charge of him and to stop bothering him. Then I would apologize and say I was just being overprotective because I’m scared that I’m going to lose him and suddenly he couldn’t wait to go back to his tent and sleep.

Was it cruel? Maybe. Was I actually being too protective? Probably. But I stood by it.

We were sitting in the camp. For over a week now I had gotten Peter to not do any training and simply rest. He was looking great for it but the boy I loved wasn’t around anymore. He was so subdued. It was like he had given up on trying to be mischievous and it wasn’t right.

“Hey Peter,” I pulled him back so his head was resting in my lap, “You wanna do something?”

“Like what? Take another nap?” Even his sass was dulled.

“No,” I kissed his forehead, “I was thinking something else?”

“Were you? Sure I’m not too weak and fragile for something like what I’m sure you’re thinking?” a smirk started to tug at his lips.

“And here I would have thought you’d like something to do.” I sighed heavily, “I guess I was wrong. Suppose we’ll just stay here and I’ll placate all my bundled up energy and clawing need by playing with that mess you call hair.”

“Wait a second--” he tried to speak but I put a hand over his mouth while the other combed through his hair.

“It is a cross I will have to bear but I will do it. For your health and the good of Neverland I will not--ugh! Did you lick my hand?”

“You wouldn’t let me talk.”

“But talking takes so much energy.”

“Wanna know what takes more?”

“I’m sure you’re gonna show me.” I chuckled as I continued to play with his hair, “You should really think about combing this mane once in a while.”

“Like a lion mane?” That devious little grin was back and my heart started to race.

“Oh yes,” I bit back my own grin as we started shift. “As wild and as messy as a lion.”

He reached to grab me but I was quicker. We were both on our feet. The playful gleam with a hint of lust was back in his eye. There’s the Peter Pan I know.

“You know how this ends, pet. Best not make a big scene of it.”

“Not a chance. You live for it.” I bolted into the jungle.

“Come back here! The king wants to play!” Peter shouted as he tore after me.

“Do not start calling yourself the king of Neverland again.” He blinked in front of me and caught me easily. “Ahh! Peter!”

“You dare defy the king?” he said with a look I knew all too well.

“Peter no, don’t you dare--” he started to tickle my sides. I burst out laughing and pushed away trying to escape but he just held me closer. “Quit-Quit it!” I was able to blurt out.

“Never! You defied the king!” he laughed. I lost balance and we fell to the ground. His hand slithered underneath my shirt. I quieted down as he stopped tickling me and instead started to kiss me.

“Is this also because I defied the king?” I chuckled lightly.

“No,” he touched his nose to mine, “This is for being my queen.”

“You are such a sap.” I rolled us over so I was on top and slid his shirt off him. “A very attractive sap.”

“You know it.” he pulled me closer so I was pressed flat against him.

“Actually…” I sat back up and he whined, “I’m not sure you deserve this. You did use magic when you shouldn’t have after all.”

“Pet, you’re killing me,” he groaned.

“You’re killing you, chief,” I smirked.

“Yeah yeah, come here!” he yanked me back down to his level. I let a small squeal escape before his mouth was on mind and suddenly I didn’t care about the use of magic or the timer on his life. I wanted this too. So of course it had to end almost immediately.

“Is there anytime you two aren’t going at eachother like a pair of jackrabbits?” we heard a voice remark. We looked over and saw Tink standing in the pathway with various plants loaded in her arms.

“Hello Tink,” I sat up straight, “What brings you to our neck of the jungle?”

“And can it please wait another fifteen minutes?” Peter growled at her.

“Since when do you need more than ten?” I smirked and he pinched my side.

“Horny teenagers, please, focus for a moment and listen to what I have to say.” she rolled her eyes, “It’s important and regards a certain someone not dying within the next couple months.”

“What is it?” I climbed off Peter’s lap, “What did you find?”

“A potion. Very old magic, it might just be myth but it could keep dying boy here alive for a good many years if made correctly.”

“How’d you find this?” Peter had pulled his tunic back on and was now standing with me. “I know all sorts of magic but none like a potion that could stall my curse.”

“Like I said it is very ancient sorcery. So much so that it might not even be real. I thought it may be worth looking into though. What else do you have to lose either way?”

“Fine, what do we need for this potion?”

“There are quite a few ingredients I’ve already found here on the island but others are going to be harder to acquire. It will take time and a lot of hard and precise work but I think we may have a way to stall your curse.”

“This is great!” I hugged Peter, “We’re going to save you!”

“Hopefully so,” he looked back at Tink, “What are the ingredients?”

“I wrote out a list. You should be able to find them all in the Enchanted Forest.”

“There’s no time to lose then.” I grabbed the list in her hands. Scanning over it I knew that this was going to be a laborious task. If it could save Peter though…

“I’ll get some boys on it right away.”

“Actually,” Tink took the list back, “I think Y/N should go.”

“Just me?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Why? Wouldn’t it go faster with an entire team?”

“Not necessarily. Very few know that Pan is practically dead already and sending out a team would raise a lot of questions I’m guessing you’d like to avoid. Besides, you’ve traveled far across the realms and the Enchanted Forest. From what I hear you’re prone to leaving the island for long stints of time so your absence wouldn’t be seen as irregular. If you want to keep the peace here as well as find the ingredients quickly, sending her solo is your best bet.”

“She’s right,” I nodded, “The boys are already on edge because of the disasters that have been happening as of late. Even if this potion does work, you’re in no state to handle a mass panic if they think we’re all going to die soon.”

“You sure you’ll be okay on your own?”

“Do you actually believe that I won’t be? Peter, come on.”

“It isn’t just that,” he turned us away from Tink and whispered, “I said that I want you here. Now Tinkerbell comes in with an all too convenient plan that takes you away from the island for an indeterminate amount of time?”

“Peter--”

“Promise me that this isn’t some escape attempt you concocted to get away. You promised me you’d stay here no matter what happened. Please, Y/N, don’t disappear on me.”

I kissed him.

“This is not some plan I came up with to get away. I promised I’d be here and I will be. A couple of days scavenging the Enchanted Forest for some ingredients doesn’t equal forever. I’ll be back before you know it. I promise.”

“On your life?”

“On yours.”

He nodded. I turned back to Tinkerbell. “So, what am I looking for?”

(First) (Previous) (Next)

#slowburn #ouat #ouat peter pan #peter pan ouat #neverland #peter pan imagine #peter pan x reader

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seanchai-tostach · 5 years

Text

I Was Hospitalized For The First Time

WARNING!: This is a long post, I apologize in advance for the length.

So things got really bad towards the end of last year (2018). I am still foggy as to what might have triggered it, but I relapsed and this time it was awful. I was too scared to leave my room due to the witch and the other people being after me and waiting outside the house for me.

Honestly, there have been few times in my life that I have been that scared. I was also convinced that I was no longer welcome in the house. Which made things worse.

When things escalated I phoned my Doctor who made the arrangements for me to be admitted to a psychiatric hospital. Since my diagnoses, I have been terrified of being hospitalized. But this time I was more afraid of what might happen if I didn’t get help. What is weird to me, looking back on it now, is that I sort of had insight but also kinda didn’t at the same time. I think it was due to the fact that I was still taking my meds at the time which probably helped.

My doctor upped the dose of my meds and added 3 more meds to the mix. this caused some weird side effects but basically did the job so I decided to stick with it.

The hospital was actually a very fancy one. It was more like the botanical gardens but with psychiatric wards. It had big open gardens. lots of “therapeutic activities” and even a volleyball court. The main problem with it was that we couldn’t really afford it. I also have zero health insurance. So everything had to come out of our own pockets. Luckily we found the money but it was still alot. it was either that or going to a public psychiatric hospital.The closest psychiatric hospital to me is a horrible one that, in addition to being a public psychiatric hospital also doubles as a psychiatric prison for the criminally insane.The conditions there are horrible. That is why we decided to go for a fancy private hospital.

I was pretty out of it when I arrived at the hospital so I cannot remember much. What I do remember is that I decided to go straight to sleep once my wife and mother in law had gone home. I didn’t really sleep. I just kinda laid there with my eyes closed trying not to cry.

throughout the day one of my roommates a very young teenager invited me to come and hang with the rest of them by the volleyball court.

I wasn’t planing on “hanging” with anyone. but as the day went on he kept coming back into the room to fetch stuff or put his phone on the charger. Every time he left the room, he extended the invitation again. By late afternoon I was fed up with the constant nagging, so I decided to go.

When I arrived at the volleyball court, There was a lot of teenagers. I was the oldest of the lot. We got to talking and they asked why I was there. I didn't want to tell them. I decided against my better judgement to tell them. Boy was a surprised when they where hardly phased or put off by my illness and for a moment i thought they were playing some cruel trick on me. And then it dawned on me; They are also just as messed up as I am. For the first time in my life, I could talk with other mentally ill people about my symptoms and meds as causally as what we each ate for breakfast.

I finally understood what Ruby wax meant when she said “I found my tribe”. Well I had found MY tribe.

The meds started kicking in and although I was as high as a kite on all that heavy medication, I did start feeling better in the neutral environment. The only inconveniences that really bugged me was that my Doctor wanted to see me between 5 and 6 am every morning. I hated having to walk in the cold from my ward to his consulting rooms on the far side of the hospital that early. I also bumped into my former boss who was also there for her own mental issues.

#Awkward. So I just avoided her as far and as much as possible.

I am so thankful that I have my wife in my life. She was so supportive. I know it was hard on her to see me be there. But through it all she was strong and supported me through and through. I could never have asked for a better partner in life. She did however invite a some of my friends and family to come visit me whilst I was there. Which I honestly did not appreciate and found quite embarrassing. But i suppose getting the support of your loved ones helps with recovery. Plus I know she meant well. It sounds like i am complaining. But I am grateful. My in-laws came and visited which was a disaster. my mother and father in law were great and supportive. But my sister in law was horrible rude and distant and kinda iffy with everyone. I was already in a vulnerable position and her behaviour kinda hurt me. ALOT. To be honest I’m still very mad at her for how badly she treated me before and during that difficult time.

Being hospitalized wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. I recovered and left. I didn’t even say goodbye to the new friends I made. I don’t know why I didn’t say goodbye. Honestly, I think I miss them. Or maybe I miss the idea of them. The idea that I can have people I can talk openly and normally with about my illness. I plan on going public with my Illness this year. So we will see out that goes. But I am hopeful. I think I will end this super long post on that note of hope I think.

I would love to hear about your first time in a psychiatric hospital. Please don’t be afraid to send me Asks or PM me.

#schizophrenia #i have schizophrenia #actually schizophrenic #schizo #psychosis #psychotic #psycho #mental health #mental disorder #mental illness #mentally ill #hospital

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a-jynx · 6 years

Text

Ridge-Wood (Sam x OC) Chapter Four: Bloody Nose and Secrets Showed

Summary: While on a hunt in the small town, Ridge-Wood, Sam, and Dean find themselves working alongside the deputy at the towns’ sheriff department, what happens when they find out their little partner in this dangerous hunt hides a few details of themselves that could lead to the death of a lover, or family member?

Pairing: Sam x Esme (OC), Dean x Esme (sister-like), Dean x Castiel(?)

Mentions: Bobby Singer, Mera Ross, Luke Ross, Elton Ross, Rufus (for a second), Garth (for a second)

Warnings: Cursing, near death experience, secrets revealed

Enjoy! Feedback appreciated!

Previous Parts: Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three,

I sighed angrily before slamming the laptop shut, rubbing both of my hands over my face as I glanced over at Dean, who was snoring up a storm with the lore book resting against his face.

“Moron.” I groaned as I pushed back the small chair, careful to not wake the doofus as he snored and most likely slobbered on the pages. Trudging towards the bathroom, I noticed a beeping coming from Dean’s jacket- furrowing my brows I moved towards it and pulled out his flip phone, the screen lit up as a message from Bobby appeared.

Pursing my lips, I stumbled backward as I sat on the motels’ rickety bed while reading the message.

Well, I looked the girl up- she seems to be a saint but it mentions something about when she was four and went to a foster home. The strange thing is I went through the files from every orphanage in Mera and Lukes’ range; not one of them had anyone named Esme.

I don’t know, maybe it was some kind of fluke in the filing system but at every single orphanage place? There’s something up with that Deputy, so be wary of her, boys. Also, I’ll send you some files over her that you can download and look over- I’m dealing with Rufus and Garth right now, so you’ll have to read the stuff yourself.

Be safe, idjits

I frowned slightly at the mention of her having to be an orphan at four-years-old, biting my lip I sat the phone on the bed and went over to the table, grabbing my laptop and moving back while settling against the headboard.

Grabbing a cord from my bag, I plugged in the phone and went to Bobby’s message, downloading the files to get a better look at our Deputy. Squinting slightly at the sudden brightness, I watched as multiple files popped up on the laptop.

“What are you hiding, Esme..?” I mumbled while unplugging the phone and started looking over one of the many files. Starting with the first one as I traced over the pages. The first paper that caught my attention was the adoption papers...

Adoption of Esme S. Ross, March 1, 1996, five-years-old.

A recorded birth date is November 2, 1992, no parents signed to her.

Parents Mera and Luke Ross, with their son Elton F. Ross; was born two days after Esme’s arrive and adoption.

Former family none, relatives none, and no papers or files showing who her birth mother or father was.

Huffing slightly and sighing, “so, asking her parents about anything is out of the question... I wonder if Mera and Luke have-” I start to whisper to myself, still trying to not wake the sleeping idiot, as another paper caught my eyes...

A death certificate.

Furrowing my brows, I clicked on the file and brought it forward, my eyes widening and my lips falling open slightly as I sighed some, before beginning to read the words carefully.

February 25, 2014, Mera and Luke Ross were found in their homes- eyes closed, but their bodies frigid and unmoving. Doctors conclude that they had fallen into a coma months ago, yet they still have no idea what caused it; it being that both were in well health.

Both of their children, Esme and Elton, were nowhere to be found in the home but neighbors say they saw Esme carrying her six-year-old brother out of the house in a rush, before climbing into their parent's car and taking off into the night with nothing but each other.

About a month later, the car was found on the side of the road, abandoned. The only thing the police could find was a small blanket practically smothered in blood- they expected that one of the children had gotten injured from something.

The police believe that they have found one of the missing Ross children's body in a creek about three miles out of a nearby town. They identified the body as Elton F. Ross, who was said to be turning seven-years-old in a few months. They have yet to find Esme S. Ross- who could either be dead as well or on the run from the police.

If you have any detail about the whereabouts of eleven-year-old Esme, please contact the police right away.

~ Edited; March 13, 2015

“That means... Esme’s twenty-six? Elton... Elton Ross, Esme Ross... Why do their names sound familiar..?” I groaned, rubbing my large hand over my face in frustration as I set my laptop next to me. Licking my bottom lip as I stared at the young girl and boy that were both smiling on the screen at me, I couldn’t help but smile at how happy Esme looked.

Shaking my head gently, I moved my hair out of my eyes before reaching over and closing the laptops’ lid and pushing myself up from the rickety, and slightly itchy bed and made my way over to the bathroom.

I think it’s time to ask Ms.Deputy Ross some questions...

Rolling my shoulders, I closed my eyes as the bright sunlight shone through my bedroom window. Yesterday was a complete disaster... Sam nearly shot the idiot living two doors down from me, and if I read right last night- we’ve got either vengeful spirit, or something unknown.

“Esme! You might want to get down here!” A rough, too-early-in-the-morning voice hollered from downstairs as I quickly threw my duvet off my tan legs and reached over, grabbing my Caliber that sat on my bedside desk; not even minding only being in a bra and shorts.

“What the hell!” I shouted, practically sprinting downstairs as I cocked my gun and aimed only to see him standing there with wide eyes and a slightly worried look. “What are you screaming about!?” I hissed as I averted my gun to the wood floorboards as he sighed and shot a nod towards the door.

‘What is it?’ I mouthed to him, tightening my grip some as I slowly moved towards the front door.

‘Hunter.’ Was the only thing he mouthed before a loud slam came from the front door. I clenched my jaw and nodded towards the stairs, just as he went to walk by I grabbed onto his t-shirts’ sleeve and hissed, “do not come downstairs if you hear anything. And do not get caught.”

He frowned, but only for a second before nodding and making his way quickly but quietly upstairs. I waited until I heard the bedroom door close before uncocking my gun and placing it on my back in my waistband; praying my shorts would keep it up.

Inhaling deeply, I tried to calm my rapidly beating heart before opening the front door- only to be met by the barrel of a gun. Clenching my jaw again, I kept both of my hands up as I stared at the man before me- his eyes hooded while he nodded for me to back up.

I did so and watched as he used his leg to close the door, noting it was quieter than I wanted it to be. “Who the hell are you?” I asked keeping my facial expressions calm and slightly bored as he glared at me before chuckling.

“You haven’t changed from all those years ago- you really think you could escape me that easily? If you did, you must be pretty damn stupid.” The hunter chuckled darkly as I frowned- already knowing what he was talking about.

“I had no choice asshole! I was protecting my family!” I spat slightly, baring my teeth as he only frowned and pressed the barrel of the shotgun underneath my throat; feeling the cold metal press against my soft neck, I allowed a small breath to leave my parted lips as I moved my head up, yet kept my eyes on him.

“You were protecting yourself you, bitch- I have half the mind to just pump you full of shotgun shells right now, but I won’t because you have a large bounty on your head.” He grinned and launched forward, grabbing onto my forearm as I clenched my jaw and slammed my elbow against his, yet it did little to nothing as he pulled my body close to his.

“Let me go, you bastard!” I shouted as I continued to slam my free elbow against his yet he began to drag me towards the front door. I knew what would happen if I didn’t get away from him right now... I wouldn’t be able to stop it.

Dammit, dammit, dammit! I mentally cursed as I took my body and began to swing it around, wriggling in his grip as I brought back one of my legs and slammed it against his private- this making him release me and the shotgun; around firing off as the butt slammed against the ground.

I covered my ears as I tried to steady myself against the floor. Shaking my head I went to grab the gun, only for my head to make contact with a knee which sent me flying backward as I coughed and spat out blood.

“You bitch, you really thought that would save you-” He paused, reaching forward as he grasped my throat in a tight grip. I gasped as I felt my body being dragged across the floor while I clawed at his hand that was now crushing my windpipe.

“You’re going to make me rich.” He spat as black spots began to invade my vision, but I could see as I watched the bedroom door open.

I opened my mouth to scream, to yell at him to get back, but I only began to choke without oxygen. I could feel my body becoming numb, and my mind becoming fuzz when we suddenly stopped moving- my side that was being dragged already a bright red and aching from the burn.

“Put. Her. Down.” I heard a voice yell, yet it sounded as if it were underwater. Suddenly, the front door was slammed open as I tiredly looked up and saw two figures standing there with their guns drawn- back-up, I hope so...

“You heard him! Put her down!” A gruff-sounding voice shouted when two gunshots went off; this made me flinch slightly as my head gently hit the floor as the hand around my throat released almost instantly.

Gasping, I tried to inhale as much as I could through my nose and mouth as I rolled onto my hands and knees while trying to breathe while spitting out little globs of blood and saliva as I shakingly looked up and saw...

“S... Sam? De... Dean?” I coughed as I lurched forward when I felt a large hand on my back. Looking over my shoulder where he was crouched next to me, trying to see my face as I swallowed the copper-tasting spit before whispering out...

“El... Elton..?”

#Sam Winchester #sam x oc #Dean x OC (sister relationship)#dean winchester #dean x castiel?#sam x oc smut soon #SPNFamily #spn fandom #new spn series?#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernaturalviolence #supernatural smut soon #Ridge-wood #new chapter

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zhannabelle-eng · 4 years

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How to be free of depression: 4 tips from Zhannabelle

Simple rules on the way to success and happiness

Depression is not fatigue, bad mood or apathy. It is a serious disease recognized by the World Health Organization (WHO), from which more than 260 million people around the world are estimated to suffer!

What is depression?

Depression is one of the most common diseases in the modern world. Zhannabelle speaks about its causes and chances to protect ourselves from it.

But if you think back, no one has ever treated depression like a disease before. Why not? We can say that the scale of the disease was not massive. People worked in nature actively, spent a lot of time in the fresh air, engaged in physical labor. Coming from work, they were tired.

But at the same time they felt satisfaction from the work done, pleasant fatigue, and high spirit.

They had no idea how to be free of depression, because they just did not know what it is.

Things have changed nowadays. There aren't many people doing hard physical work. But most people do mental work. People work in comfortable offices, sitting at the computer, practically not moving. Increased thinking activity in the absence of physical activity leads to depression.

You must have noticed this. Imagine that you have had a hard day, you are tired, the energy is at zero and there is somebody pushing you in the street by accident. How would you react? You'll probably start screaming, getting angry or even crying. What if the same thing happens when you're fresh, full of energy, happy? You wouldn't even notice that someone pushed you. And if you do, you'll forget about it in a second.

The physical body begins to weaken, and this leads to damage of energetic shell - the person becomes more sensitive to negative influences.

Depression is exactly the state when your energy shell is worn out. It's like an old shirt. It's covered in holes. Various negative entities, larvae get into your aura through these holes. They suck on you and devour your energy, your personality.

They inspire you that you are weak and worthless, not beautiful and talented, can not achieve anything and no one loves you.

Believe me, even very successful people sometimes have such thoughts. They all have bad days. But if you start to believe everything that dark entities inspire you – that’s the end, you are gone. Your aura will be completely covered with larvae, your personality will be completely destroyed.

So depression, like any other disease, should not be neglected. And you have to make sure you take preventive measures so you don't get sick.

So how can you prevent depression?

Give up bad habits

If there is sadness in your heart, nothing pleases you, you have no power and you don’t want anything - that is, you have all the signs of depression. What do people often do? That's right, they try to comfort eat, or drink it with alcohol, or get rid of anxiety with illegal drugs. Does it help? Never to anybody!

Any bad habits only aggravate the state of depression - they help larvas to destroy your personality.

A cigarette will not calm you down, coffee will not cheer you up, burger will not give you energy. Healthy sleep, day regimen, proper diet, sports and a complete rejection of bad habits - that's what gives you the real Power. Energy that can defeat any dark entity.

Active lifestyle

Someone will hesitate to ask if yoga can prevent depression. Yes, it can! Yoga, dancing, horse or bike riding, swimming, long walks in the park with your dog - any physical activity, especially outdoors, is the best vaccine against depression.

Remember what we talked about at the beginning of this article.

Our distant ancestors were very active. They either ran for prey, or ran away from predators.

Yes, they did not live as long as modern people. And their life can hardly be called comfortable. But what they did not know about was the depression.

The better your physical condition, the better your soul. Even when you have flu, you can hardly be called the most cheerful and positive person in the world, right? The connection between physiology and emotional background is very close. To keep the larvas from capturing your essence, strengthen your body!

Help of Good Spirits

One of Zhannabelle's students - a successful businessman and head of the largest advertising concern - Anthony, once also did not know how to get free of depression. And then Zhannabelle gave him a special magical object - a Jaw’s harp, charged with incredible power of spirits.

Playing Jaw’s harp can be compared to a state of divine manifestation. All thoughts of a person turn off, they start creating their new life and new destiny. But the main thing is that the Jaw’s harp protects against any negative influences. It calls the forces of Good and thus blocks the appearance of dark entities.

You can buy Jaw’s harp at Zhannabelle's seminars and individual consultations. She will also teach how to use this unique Object of Power.

Lifework

Whatever you do, you have to understand that any work must be directed towards the common good. Of course, it is not so easy to realize in real life. That's why Zhannabelle encourages everyone to join the Field of Love group prayers. They help cure any disease, including depression, protect and help people around the world, stop natural disasters. And they make every participant happy.

If you want to join the Field of Love prayer, send an email to [email protected] marked "I want to join the Field of Love".

Anita, Le Havre:

"While my kids were little, I kept running like a hamster on a wheel. I had to take everyone to classes, cook lunch and dinner, clean the house, go shopping, pick up the kids, help with their home task, etc. When I finished it was already evening - no time to get bored.

But the children have grown up and gone, and I have nothing to do. My husband is at work all day. I'm alone in a big empty house where I have nothing to do. I started having apathy.

I got to the point where I could walk around in my robe all day. I started sleeping badly, and I had panic attacks from time to time.

Out of nothing! I am pouring myself a tea, for example, and suddenly I feel the ground coming out from under my feet.

I was diagnosed depression. Doctors prescribed me medication. They didn't help...

A friend of mine helped me get out of this condition. One day she came to my place on the way to Zhannabelle's seminar and, seeing me untidy in a robe, offered to go together. My husband, who was not at work at the time, literally pushed me out of the house, he really wanted me to shake up.

At Zhannabelle's seminar, I really felt like I was awake. She took the magic instrument Jaw’s harp and started playing a totally cosmic tune. I literally dissolved into those sounds. At the same time, she taught me to take deep breaths and breathe out all the negativity out of my energy field. This abrupt exhale throws away all the entities that harm our energy.

That day, I really felt like I myself had the power.

I felt Zhannabelle pouring a stream of strong energy into my aura, and my aura thickens to form a protective dome around me.

It was an incomparable feeling!

I came home with a smile on my face. I did the general cleaning of the house, I made myself look pretty and started cooking delicious food again, making romantic dinners for my husband and me. I also became a regular participant in group classes. I had an individual diagnostics. And Zhannabelle managed to correct all my energy flows. And the magical objects that she made especially for me and my husband, more than once helped us maintain our power in different situations.

Zhannabelle helped me understand how to get rid of depression and did a lot for me. My life is now full of meaning.

I made a lot of friends, my husband and I started to travel a lot.

I love traveling to the Place of Power - these are amazing places on the planet! And I try to help with organizing events or charity events as much as I can. There's no time for depression anymore!"

Tell your friends and acquaintances how to get rid of depression, how to charge with positive and get powerful protection of the forces of Light. Send them the link to this article, invite them to Zhannabelle’s seminar. She can solve any problem, help to become a happy and successful person.

#zhannabelle #depression #success #happiness #coach

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bazypitchandsimonsnow · 7 years

Text

Locked Away in a Tower

Rating: T

Genre: Angst and fluff

Word Count: 6576

Summary: Prince Simon of Watford has been kidnapped and guarded by a dragon for a year. Sir Basilton is sick of watching others fail to rescue him. Based on "supernatural kiss" prompt.

Read on AO3

AN: Hoooo boy is this long! Once again, Theo let her fic writing spin out of control. I wrote this in one sitting and murdered my eyeballs but it was worth it. I don't exactly know what supernatural kiss means, so I hope this is correct. Either way it was fun. Enjoy! :D

Everyone knows the story. It’s spread throughout the land.

In the kingdom of Watford, there’s a wizard king named David. He rules his people with an iron fist. Everyone fears his wrath. Though he had made good reforms to the kingdom, he’d hurt many in his way. But his son is another story. Prince Simon was kind where his father harsh. He used his great strength to help others rather than demand respect. He became a knight at only 17, a feat only achieved by one other; The son of the former royal family, Basilton Pitch, his bitter rival in school.

But there were those who wished to hurt King David. At age 20, someone kidnapped the Prince, and locked him away in a distant castle, leaving the King only a map and a note as a means to taunt him. To keep Simon from escaping and prevent brave men from attempting to rescue him, a terrifying dragon was on guard at all times. The kingdom was outraged to lose their beloved prince. Many blamed the Pitch family, claiming they took him because they wanted the kingdom back. But there was no proof. Only rumours and panic.

King David kept the true location of the castle to himself so his enemies would not go after his son. Knight after knight was sent, all returning unsuccessful. It became the impossible quest. The great trial for all knights of Watford. Though the King would not send one of his greatest knights, the only one who matched his perfect son. Me, Sir Basilton, and I’m damn well sick of it.

I yell as I plunge the sword into the practice dummy. I don’t know who I want it to be. King David, for once again refusing my request to be sent out. My father, for being even remotely happy about the Prince’s disappearance. The dragon, for keeping Simon hostage for a year. Simon, for getting himself bloody kidnapped. Myself, for being so bloody useless.

“What did that poor thing ever do to you, Basil?”

I turn to the snide voice. Penelope stands in the doorway, wearing her ridiculously bright coloured clothing to match her hair. Her patchwork cape waves behind her in the breeze. She thinks being a court magician means she has to look as eccentric as possible. As a magician myself, I thoroughly disagree.

“It pissed me off,” I mutter, using my left foot to violently kick off the hole-filled straw man from my blade.

“I didn’t know dummies were capable of causing so much rage.”

I sheath my sword. “What do you want, Bunce?”

She walks towards me. “I’m worried about you, Baz. You haven’t been sleeping again, have you?”

I growl, walking briskly past her into the castle. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh come on, Baz!” She follows behind me. “It doesn’t take magic to see that you’re a complete disaster.”

She’s right. I have bags under my eyes, my hair's a mess from tossing and turning, and I generally look like shit. A year of unending worry certainly does a number on someone.

“I’m just concerned about the kingdom. Without the Prince’s tempering influence, I’m worried King David will go on the warpath.”

“Those aren’t your worries, those are your father’s.”

She’s right again. Mine are more along the lines of “terrified the boy I’m in love with is going to stay locked in a tower for the rest of his life, or get burn to a crisp by a temperamental dragon.” But I haven’t told Bunce that. And I’m going to keep it that way.

I whip around to face her. We’re standing in the stone hallway. My voice is very loud in the empty cavern. “Why are you interrogating me? Have your ideas about Pitches changed? Trying to find out if my family really did kidnap the prince? Going to report back to your King’s Champion brother?” I'm spitting vitriol, like I always do when I'm scared.

Penelope shakes her head, making her purple curls rattle. “No. Just concerned for a friend.”

My resolve softens slightly. Ever since Simon’s disappearance, Bunce and I have gone from enemies to mutual respect to tentative friendship. Despite my outburst, I know she’s one of the few people who truly believes my family has nothing to do with all of this. (She's smart enough to know we've gained nothing from it expect more ire from the Court.) We’re both scared for Simon too. Bonding through fear, I guess.

I reach out to place a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Bunce. But I’m perfectly alright.” Just terrified about the safety of the man I love. No problem there. I try to convey with only a look for her not to ask further. I can’t bring myself to say it out loud.

She sighs, knowing to back off. “Alright. To be honest, I’m a mess too. I’ve been pouring over my mother’s books about dragons. All of them say they’re non-violent creatures. They only attack as a last resort. Someone must be controlling it, making it guard Simon and attack knights.”

“So it’s under a spell. Know a way to break it?” Bunce is the most brilliant witch I’ve ever met. If anyone knows, she does.

“Without knowledge of the specific spell, no, definitely not. There’s universal curse breaking stuff, but those are a long shot.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Like what?”

She scoffs and throws me a smirk. “Well, there’s always true love’s kiss. But I don’t think you want to snog a dragon.”

I scoff myself, and start walking down the hallway again. “I would prefer not to have my lips burned off, thank you very much.”

We laugh together and keep moving forward. But my mind is far away. It’s at a desolate castle, where a now 21 year old man with blue eyes and bronze curls is being kept, guarded by a terrifying dragon. I just hope he’s okay.

“We need to launch a large scale assault. My subjects are getting very restless. They're threatening not to pay taxes now!” Lord Wellbelove shouts.

They’re all sitting at the large table in the King’s war room. King David sits at the head, elbows on the table with fingers locked together. His golden circlet is askew, and there are stress wrinkles all over his face. The constant state of panic in the kingdom has not helped to King’s mental or physical health.

“And what, have our entire army burned to the ground?” My father retorts.

“Oh be quiet, Malcolm. You just don’t want your scheme to fail. Everyone knows you stole the prince.”

“And where’s your proof? Because all of you have been accusing me for a year without a shred of evidence.”

“Then why shouldn’t we send the whole army, hm?”

“Because we shouldn’t leave the city unprotected! What if our enemies get word that Watford is unguarded? The vampires will overrun us.”

My father has a point, of course. But since it’s coming from him, they all assume it’s a plot. It’s infuriating. We love this kingdom just as much as they do. Just because we dislike the king doesn’t mean we’ll destroy Watford in the process.

“We’ll send another knight, if you all insist,” the King mutters.

Everyone turns to look at him. His expression is as hard as stone. I resist the urge to jump from my spot at the door and throttle the bastard.

“Who can we send?” Lord Wellbelove says. “Every knight has tried and failed.”

“I haven’t.” I step forward. Everyone turns to look at me. Both Father and King David glare at me for completely different reasons.

“Sir Basilton, what do you mean?” A lord interjects.

“I mean that I have not been sent to try and save Prince Simon. Which baffles me, considering I am one of the best knights.”

Premal, Bunce’s infuriatingly smug brother, steps forward from behind the King. He sneers at me. “The King has been cautious because of the suspicion of you and your family. You and the Prince have never got along, not since you were children. Why would you want to help him? And what if you kill him for revenge? How many times has your aunt accused our ruler of causing the late Queen Natasha’s untimely demise?”

I tighten my grip on my sword handle. My blood is practically boiling. “Do not assume I share my aunt’s views. I serve the kingdom, and rescuing the heir would be in service to the kingdom. So please, allow me to go.”

“I’m not sure that’s wise-” the King starts. But he’s quickly cut off by another lord.

“Why not? Sir Pitch is correct, he’s one of the best knights in Watford.”

Lord Wellbelove stands up. “Also he’s a fire mage, like his mother. I think that would be quite useful against a dragon.”

There are mumbles of agreement among most of them. King David’s lip tightens. He glares at me, but he knows he can’t refuse me now. He sighs angrily.

“Very well. You shall set out tomorrow at first light, Sir Basilton.”

I bow gracefully. “Thank you, your highness.”

The meeting ends shortly after. I receive mixture of nods and glares as they all exit. Father pats my shoulder. As I leave, Premal grabs my arm. His stare would’ve caused weak people to shiver. Luckily, I’m not so easily intimidated by the likes of him.

“If you hurt Simon, I swear to Christ, Pitch, I’ll-”

“Don’t worry, Sir Bunce,” I say, snatching my wrist away from his grip. “I could never hurt him.”

I saddle my horse at dawn. Premal reluctantly gave me a copy of the map. Father wished me luck (he probably thinks a Pitch saving the Crown Prince will help our status). The king merely shook my hand and mumbled good tidings. Mordelia gave me her favourite toy, saying it would protect me. I promised to come back. I hope I don’t have to break that.

“There, all set, Ivory,” I murmured to my stead. “We’ve got a long road ahead.”

“Don’t I get a goodbye, Basilton?”

There’s Bunce again, dressed in ridiculously patterned pyjamas. (All her clothing is terrifying).

“Depends. Are you going to insult me?”

She rolls her eyes. “We always insult each other, it’s our thing.”

I cross my arms with a sly smirk. “Then I don’t need to give a goodbye to a stupidly clothed bespectacled witch.”

She walks to me with her hands on her hips, staring up with a frown. “Well, I don’t need one from a freakishly tall asshole knight.”

We both stare for a bit, then break out into giggles. It takes my mind off the situation for a second. But when we stop, reality sets in. Bunce looks scared. I can’t blame her. She’s lost Simon and I don’t think she wants to lose me either.

She throws her arms around my torso, crushing her face into my breast plate. I make an oomph sound before hugging her in return.

“Find him, please,” she whispers, “and don’t die.”

I stroke her hair. “I will, and I’ll try not to, I promise.”

She pulls back and sticks hand in her robe pocket, pulling out a long white wand. “Take this.”

“Bunce, I have a wand-”

“I know. But you’ll want this one more. I, uh... acquired it from the royal vault. It was Queen Natasha’s.”

My eyes widen. I remember it now; Seeing my mother wave that wand, making fire dance all around the throne room for me. I’d giggle and clap at all the pretty lights. I cautiously take it from Bunce and put in my saddle bag. I clasp her hand one last time.

“Thank you, Penelope.”

She squeezes my palm in return. “Now go bring our boy home.”

I don’t verbally acknowledge what she says, but I know what she means. Of course she’s too smart not to notice what I feel. I nod and mount my horse, riding off into the distance.

I make camp in a forest that night. Ivory is tied to the tree. I lay my pallet out, next to a makeshift fire pit. Cautiously, I take my mother’s wand out of the bag. It’s a gorgeous thing, crafted from fine ivory and covered in swirled carvings, a smooth black leather handle at the thicker end. I point it at the wood pile and barely whisper the spell.

The fire roars to life. I chuckle. Of course it’s a powerful tool, especially in the hands of a fire mage like me. Like my mother was.

I remember the first time I set something on fire with magic. It was in school, in my first class of second year. We were all supposed to light a small twig. I did it without problem. But Simon made the stick explode. His magic was always powerful yet volatile. I thought he was an idiot then, unworthy of being the Crown Prince. Though deep down, I felt my stomach turn at the way he smiled sheepishly and blushed from embarrassment. I miss his smile.

“You better still be alive, you wonderful git,” I mutter.

After a light dinner, I tuck into bed for the night, still worrying as I nod off.

“You absolute idiot!” Simon shouts at me. “You unleashed a chimera?!”

“It wasn’t me! It was already here!” I roar, hoping he’ll believe the lie.

“I don’t have time to argue with you, Pitch. Just pick up your damn sword!”

I growl, but do as he says. We launch ourselves at the beast. Simon’s technique is frantic but effective. He slashes and cuts, spilling the monster’s blood. I try to be more precise, looking for a single weak spot.

“Stop dawdling and just hit it, Baz!” he yells.

“I’m trying to be effective!”

“Well you aren’t help- ah!” The chimera gets him in the side, sending him to the ground. He groans and clutches his head. The beast stops attacking me and goes straight for him. My heart seizes. I just wanted to scare Simon, not actually hurt him. It hits me like a ton of bricks in that moment. I don’t want anyone, including myself, to cause him any harm.

But I don’t have time to sort through my feelings. The chimera gets closer to Simon. I charge at it, burying my blade in it’s neck to the hilt. I pull down and blood spills out of it in one large gush. With a last wet gasp, the beast collapses. Simon blinks rapidly and groans as he sits up. I’m panting, covered in chimera blood.

“You saved me,” he says. For once, he doesn’t look at me like an enemy. His gorgeous blue eyes are wide, pink lips hanging open. He looks admiring and in awe. I realise how much I want him to always look at me like that. But, for someone scared of so little, I’m terrified of what he’d say if I told him.

“Don’t kid yourself, Princeling,” I sneer. “If you died while I was here, your idiot father would most assuredly blame me and my family. I don’t need another reason for him to hate us.”

The look goes away, replaced with a scowl, and my heart breaks. He gets up and starts to walk. “Fuck you, Pitch.”

As I watch his back move farther away, I know one thing to be true. I’m in love with Prince Simon, heir to King David, impossible golden boy, and my sworn enemy. My life is a living hell.

I wake up with a gasp. The sun is rising in the east. The fire has died. My face feels wet. I touch my cheek, and see tears on my fingers. Of course I’m thinking about that day while going off to save Simon. Six years later and it’s still fresh in my mind.

What if I do rescue him? Will I tell him then? The prospect makes my heart stutter.

“No,” I say to myself, “no time for silly feelings.”

Most importantly, I have to save the Crown Prince. Not Simon, the boy with a big heart and an even bigger smile. Because I’m a knight and it’s my sworn duty to protect this kingdom. My stupid undying love comes second to that.

That’s what I’ll keep telling myself.

The castle is enormous. A large crumbling fortress sitting on a cliff side. Crows and ravens caw as they circle it’s tallest tower. I leave Ivory tied up in a nearby wood. I make one last check to make sure that my armour is secure, my sword is at my side, and my mother’s wand is up my sleeve.

“Don’t worry, Simon,” I say, “help is on the way.”

I cautiously walk across the rickety old drawbridge, hand ready on my sword. The only sounds are the birds above. I enter the front door as quietly as possible. The whole room is pitch black. Pulling out the wand, I light a small fire in my hand. It illuminates only the first few feet in front of me. The floor is cracked with vines growing through. No one has truly lived here for ages, obviously. I walk more towards the centre.

“Hello?” I whisper. “Anyone in in here?”

I hear no response. Not a human one anyway.

The growl to my left of me is guttural, certainly animal. I freeze in place. Slowly, I expand the fire as I turn on the spot.

It’s hanging on the wall, Large, scaly, and bright red. I can only see part of it’s face. That long reptilian snout poking out in front of me. It’s lips pull back to show sharp white teeth, barely visible slit pupils narrowing under the firelight.

I back up a bit. “Oh god.”

Smoke pours from it’s nose holes, mouth starting to open. I hear it take in a breath.

“Shit-”

I dive out of the way just as the column of flames shoots out, hitting the ground with a thud. The dragon’s breath lights a series of old torches along the opposite wall. I see the beast more clearly now. It’s bright scarlet with a bit of a metallic bronze sheen. Large bat wings with sharp joint tips extend from its back. A pointed tail slashes back and forth angrily.

I unsheathe my sword and assume battle stance, slipping my wand into my belt. “Come on you overgrown lizard! Give me a real fight!”

The dragon roars, shaking the foundations of the castle. It launches forward with claws bared. I barely dodge the attack. It slides across the floor and growls. It tries to hit me again and again with it's front claws, but I parry each attempt. This beast fights with no technique. Just desperately hoping it’ll get me with a stray slash. But it’s absolutely relentless. I feel my lungs beginning to ache and my arms getting sore.

It backs away. I take a moment to breath, sword falling. The dragon opens it’s mouth, and I see fire building in it’s throat.

I whip out my wand as the fire barrels towards me. When it hits the ivory tip, the flames burst out to surround me. My arm wobbles slightly as I hold the massive amount of fire back. I can’t do this for long. It sucks away too much of my magic and strength.

The onslaught ends. I wave my wand to clear the remaining flames. Just in time to see the monster jumping towards me.

It tackles me to the ground. I hold it’s front talons away from my face with the flat of my sword, using both hands to push with all my might. It’s scaly head turns to stare down at me with one reptilian blue eye.

Wait. I know that blue.

It’s not special. Not navy or cornflower. Just, blue. The same blue I’ve spent years studying and committing to memory.

My voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. “Simon?”

The dragon’s eye expands. It stops pushing against me. Slowly, it lets me sit up. My head is spinning. My heart is pounding. It can’t be, right?

“Simon, is that you?”

Impossibly, the dragon’s face softens. It’s pupils expand and its lips hang a bit open. I fully sit, watching the beast back away slightly. It stares at me with wide, wondering eyes. That only confirms my fears. I’d know that look anywhere.

No wonder the knights before always found a dragon but no prince. They were one and the same.

“Oh god,” I whisper, “it’s really you.”

I go to my knees and drop my sword. The clanking noise rings in the otherwise silent room. I tentatively reach out towards him. He pulls back with a growl.

“It’s alright, Simon. It’s me, Baz. You know who I am.”

He calms down, and walks towards me. I carefully place my hand on his face. He turns into my touch, nuzzling my palm. His scales scrape against my rough hands.

“Who did this to you?”

He whimpers, eyes big and pleading. He looks so sad, so broken. A few tears leak out onto his face. I run my thumb across his cheek, wiping them away as best I can.

“I’m so sorry, Simon,” I say. “Who would do this? To you, of all people?” I hold the other side of his face, cradling it softly. “I wish Bunce were here with her brilliant spells. She’d know what to do. She’d know how to break this awful curse...”

My voice trails away, mind flinging back to only a few days earlier.

“There’s universal curse breaking stuff, but those are a long shot.”

“Like what?”

“Well, there’s always-”

“True love’s kiss,” I whisper.

Simon looks as close to confused as he can manage. I stare at him straight in the eye, clutching his face tighter.

“Simon, for both our sake’s, I hope this works.”

I scrunch my eyes close, hold my breath, and snog a dragon.

His lips (really just the very tip of his huge dragon mouth) are hot and scaly. They’re scratchy against my closed ones. I hold him in place, but he doesn’t really move. He’s completely frozen. Bit by bit, I feel the rough scales dissolve under my touch, replaced with soft skin. His head becomes lighter and smaller, until I’m cupping his jaw. Before I know it, a warm mouth is moving against mine. I tangle my fingers in his rough curly hair. I love the way they feel against my touch. Because they feel like only Simon could.

I pull away, blinking rapidly. There he is, kneeling right in front of me, naked save for a long red cloth bunched around his waist. His tawny skin is covered in filth, bronze curls all matted and tangled, and lids heavy over his tired blue eyes. He looks beautiful. He looks so alive.

“Baz?” he rasps out. "I-is it really you?"

I smile, salt water stinging my eyes. “Yes, Simon. It’s me. You’re safe now.”

“Oh, Baz!” He throws himself around me, burying his face in my shoulder. I feel his tears soak my tunic. One of my arms is tight across his back, the other smoothing his hair.

“It’s okay, it's all okay now,” I murmur into his ear. “It’s going to be okay. It’s all right, love.”

It takes awhile for Simon to calm down. He cries in my embrace on and off for what feels like hours. But when he regains most of his composure, I wrap him in my thick cloak and gently carry him bridal manner. He clings to my neck like he’s scared I’ll vanish if he lets go. I make sure to take my sword and wand as we leave. (Don't want to be defenceless if I have to protect him.)

I go to where I left Ivory. Grabbing my pallet with one hand, I lay it on the ground and place Simon on top. As I pull back, he tugs my sleeve.

“No,” he whines, “please don’t go.”

His voice is so small, like a terrified child’s. I shed my armour quickly. The pallet is not meant for two. But I don’t care. I lay next to him, holding his side with one hand and tangling our legs together.

His face is all scrunched up, like he’s still in pain. There are still some stray tears. I rub them away.

“You’re alright now,” I say softly.

“I was there for so long,” he sobs. “I-I was so scared. I was horrible. I was an animal, a beast, a monster, I-”

“Stop it, Simon. That wasn’t you. That was the curse.”

He opens his eyes slowly with that awe filled expression. “Which you broke.”

I freeze. We’re both magicians. We both know about the power of true love’s kiss, and certainly what it means. There's no point in denying it now. I sigh heavily. “Yes, I did.”

He tentatively brings a hand onto my side. I shiver as he traces me with his fingers. “For how long, Baz?”

I cup his cheek. I can fit most of his face in just one hand. “A long time. Almost since we met.”

He gasps and tenses slightly. But I can feel as he slowly relaxes. He smiles. I’ve really, really missed that smile. He moves closer, tucking his head under my chin. He tentatively kisses my chest, making me shudder.

“Thank you,” he mumbles into my tunic. “F-For finding me, for saving me, for... everything.”

My heart almost beats out of me. I’m overwhelmed with relief and love. I lean down and press my lips to his hair. “You’re welcome, Simon.”

We fall asleep like that, tangled together on the dirty old pallet. And I couldn’t be happier.

Simon wakes up sometime in the afternoon, when the sun is bright in the sky. Saying he was beyond exhausted is an understatement. He sits up with a start, panting and sweaty.

“Baz!” He shouts.

I run over to him. “I’m right here, Simon. It’s okay.”

He grabs my hand and breathes deeply. “I dreamt I was back in the castle. T-That I was still cursed.”

“You’re not cursed. Not anymore. You’re out of there and you’re okay.”

We hear a low grumble. Simon groans and clutches his stomach. I raise an eyebrow. “Hungry?”

He nods vigorously. “Very. I think I only ate birds as a dragon.”

I chuckle and stand up, not letting go of his hand. “I’ll cook something up for us. There’s a stream nearby to the west if you want to wash up, and there are some clean clothes.” I gesture to pile next to the pallet.

He squeezes me once and nods. “Okay.”

His hand slowly falls from mine. I watch over my shoulder as he picks the garments up and walks away. He flashes me one last soft smile.

Simon returns just as I finish cooking the rabbits I’d caught. He rolls up the sleeves on the brown tunic (I am three inches taller). His damp curls stick to his forehead. I watch his mouth water at the sight of the rabbit.

I slide one off the spit and hand it to him. He sits down next to me and bites into it greedily, moaning in delight. I chuckle, just happy to see him like this. It reminds me of our days at school when he’d devour whole plates of sour cherry scones.

“God this is good,” he groans with his mouth full.

“Glad you approve of my mediocre cooking skills,” I reply.

“Well, I’ve just missed food without feathers.”

We both laugh, but quickly fall into awkward silence. I cautiously put my rabbit down.

“Simon, do you know what happened? How you were cursed?”

Simon scowls, fingers digging into the meat of the animal. “It’s one of the few things I do remember clearly.” He puts his meal down, picking at his pants angrily. “It feels like so long ago. I got in a fight with my father. I found out that he wasn’t just harshly taxing the rich, but the townspeople too. I told him it was too much for them. Then it all just, spun out of control. He accused me of undermining him, of trying to usurp his throne. I tried to reason with him but he was beyond it. He put me under a sleeping spell. Next thing I knew, I was in that bloody castle. He told me it was time for me to disappear so he could do his work. Then he, he... changed me.”

I reach out and grab his bicep. He’s shaking so badly. I steady him as best I can. Little by little, the shaking subsides. His head falls onto my shoulder.

“It’s all a bit of a blur after that. I remember the constant urge to attack anyone I saw. Lots of swords and fire and blood. I ran on pure instinct. Sometimes, my consciousness would take over, but only a for a few minutes. Like little glimpses of reality through the haze. It was so awful!”

I wrap my arms around him in a side hug. “I know, I know. But it’s over now. You’re safe. I’ll never let him or anyone else hurt you ever again.”

He grips my forearms. “What I don’t understand is why. Why would he do it?”

“Why else? Control. The people love you, Simon. They’d choose you over him in a heartbeat. He needed you gone in case they decided to rebel and rally around you. But I guess just killing you and saying you vanished wouldn’t have been good enough. So he made it seem like you’d been captured. Panicked over their beloved crown prince being taken by an unknown enemy, the people and nobility would need a strong ruler, like him.”

“But, he sent knights after me.”

I sigh, tracing circles on his shoulder. “Yes, he did. He needed to make it look like he wanted to rescue you, I guess. Maybe he thought we’d all give up after the first few tries, but he underestimated your popularity among the people. The lords never stopped demanding he send knights because their subjects never did.”

He looks up at me, expression filled with astonished hope. “They... never stopped?”

I brush some of his soggy hair away from his eyes. “Never. Neither did I. I asked to go after you all the time. I guess King David knew I was a skilled enough magician to break the curse, so he prevented me for as long as possible.”

He turns so we’re facing each other, caressing my bicep with one hand. “I doubt he thought you’d break the curse like that, though.”

We both break out in giggles. I cradle his soft face, covered in those beautiful freckles and moles. “As did I. Nor did I think you’d feel the same way.” An awful fear bubbles in my stomach. I pull back slightly, hands falling away. “Do- Do you feel the same way? It’s alright if you don’t, I’d understand. I’m not going to force you.”

He shakes his head violently. “No! I mean, yes, I-I do. When I think about it, I have for awhile. I mean, maybe not as long as you. But when I look back, at all the things I thought about you, they were angry, but also admiring. I’ve always admired you, Baz. More than I was supposed to.” He moves to hold my jaw in his warm hands. “I like this, Baz. I like you. I like being near you, knowing that you’re okay. Every time I resurfaced, I thought about how much I missed Watford, and Penny, and especially you. So... yes, I’m pretty sure I feel the same.”

I smile so hard my face nearly splits, moving to grip his shoulders. We lean together until our foreheads are touching. “Thank you for telling me.”

He giggles. “Thank you for saving me.”

We both move forward and kiss for the second time. It’s a thousand times better than before, because it's wanted, not needed. I know how he feels, know that he cares about me. I snake my arms around his back and press him to me. I never want to let him go.

We only separate when the need for air takes over. Simon places his head in the crook my neck, hugging me tightly. “I missed you so much, Baz.”

I stroke his hair, inhaling the scent, smoke and cinnamon. “Me too, Simon. Me too.”

We ride back to Watford as soon as possible. It only takes a day and a half at the speed we go. Simon wears my hood and cape to hide his face as we go through the outer city. He doesn’t need to be swarmed by crowds now. He needs to see someone in particular.

Using the hidden stairway and servant’s passages, we arrive at the doors of the throne room. I can hear people talking inside. Another council meeting. Simon pulls down his hood. He straightens his back and holds his head up high, looking like the powerful royalty he is. He takes a deep, shaky breath. I grab his fingers.

“You don’t have to do this now,” I say.

He squeezes my hand, but nods solemnly. “Yes, I do.”

He lets me go and pushes the double doors open. The room goes silent. Everyone turns to look at Simon. There’s some gasps and a lot of dropped jaws. Father is stunned. Lord Wellbelove seems primed for a heart attack. Bunce stands near the back, grinning ear to ear. And King David looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“S-Simon?” he squeaks.

“Hello father,” Simon says coldly. “We need to talk.”

Simon paces back and forth in our quarters. He’s mumbling to himself, running a hand through his hair repeatedly, the other picking at the hem of his embroidered tunic. His long green robe trails behind him on the dirty floor.

“What if I mess up? What if I get the words wrong?”

I sigh from my spot sitting on our bed, trying to rub off a stray scuff on my new wrist guard. (I just polished it yesterday!) “You won’t. You’ve practised it a hundred times.”

“But I’ll get up there and get tongue tied and the Lords will realise I’m too young and I can’t do this and-”

“Simon!” I stand and grab his wrists, halting him in his tracks. “Stop panicking! You’ll be a wonderful king. You’ve proved that already so many times. The whole court is behind you. Perfect words or no words at all, they will crown you.”

Simon sighs and nods. “I know. I’m just... really scared.”

“And that’s natural, love. But no matter what happens, be assured that your King’s Champion will protect you.” I pat the hilt of my sword. Simon chuckles.

“You can’t use your sword to solve all my problems, Baz.”

I shrug. “Well, I could try kissing them away. Worked six months ago.”

Simon breaks out laughing. I love his laugh. It’s so happy and cheerful. Even after everything he went through. “I think that was a one time thing, love.”

We lean forwards until foreheads tap, fingers intertwining. “You’re going to be great, Simon,” I whisper. “I know it.”

He rubs his nose against mine. “Thank you.”

He kisses me softly. I move my mouth slowly against his. It's long and languid, utterly filled with love. It makes me feel a bit drunk, and very happy. I’ll never get tired of kissing this man. He pulls away but keeps our lips close together.

“I love you, Baz,” he says.

“And I love you, Simon.” I move back so I can look at his beautiful face. “No matter what you are. Prince, wizard, knight, dragon, king. Whatever you are, wherever you are, I’ll always love and be there for you. I swear on my sword.”

He smiles, making his blue gaze sparkle. He grips my hand. “Thank you, darling. I promise the same, you know. To love and protect you from all that would want to hurt you. For the rest of my bloody days. I swear on my throne."

I trace a finger down his jaw to hold his chin. He swipes his thumb over the back of my hand. Though we are not married, and may never be, it's okay. These are as good as any wedding vows. “Thank you, my love.”

There’s a knock on the wooden doors. Simon turns to them. “Enter,” he says.

Bunce pops her head in. She’s in her most subdued formal outfit, a navy robe with stars on it. Very classic wizard. The silver forehead tiara (signifying her position as Head Court Magician) is slightly off kilter in her mound of purple hair.

“It’s showtime, boys.”

Simon takes a deep breath. I hold his hand tightly. He looks at me with a soft smile, speaking under his breath.

“Let’s do this.”

Two members of the King’s Guard push open the throne room double doors. The trumpeters sound their instruments through the grand hall. Everyone stands and turns. We walk forward slowly. Simon is at the front of course. Bunce and I stand behind him, forming a moving triangle. That’s how it’s supposed to be. A king, his champion, and his magician. The three pillars that hold up Watford. I’m so glad to be a part of it, especially for Simon.

Everyone watches us. Father and Aunt Fiona nod to me with subtle smiles. Mordelia waves wildly until Daphne stops her. Lord Wellbelove is grinning, Lady Agatha right next to him. Even Premal, who rejected former King David when he learned of his deception, looks beyond pleased. He trusts Simon to rule well, and he's very proud of his little sister. He wasn’t even mad when I took his job. (I may actually grow to like him.)

We arrive at the throne. Simon walks up the few steps, while Bunce and I stay at the bottom. The royal priest stands there.

“Prince Simon,” he says, “do you come here to take up the throne of Watford?”

“I do.”

“Recite the oath of kings to accept the crown.”

Simon straightens. “I, Prince Simon, do swear to uphold the laws of this land, rule the people kindly, defend it from enemies, and make sure it prospers under my watch. From this day until my dying breath, I promise such.”

I smile slightly. I knew he wouldn’t mess up.

“Kneel before the throne.”

Simon takes one knee, bending his head forward. The priest takes the large gold crown, covered in green and purple gems, from the satin pillow. He slowly places it on his head. It fits like it’s meant to be there. Simon carefully stands, and I see him breath out slowly.

He turns to face the court. I turn as well. My eyes flick to him. He smiles and nod.

“All hail King Simon,” I shout. “Lord Protector and one true ruler of Watford. Long live the King!”

“Long live the King!” Everyone yells back. “Long live the King! Long live the king!”

They erupt into cheers and claps. Simon steps down to my level. I feel his hand slip into mine. He’s grinning so wide. It makes my heart race.

I swore to be by his side no matter what. To love him no matter what. And I certainly meant it.

AN: Got you with that twist there, huh? Yes, I'm very sneaky, I know. Like M. Night Shyamalan before he was shit, haha. Seriously this was so much fun to do. I loved writing it. I really hope you all enjoyed it. I certainly did :) Feel free to request more kiss fics here. Though I have a lot right now so there may be a wait.

PS: I had no idea what Natasha's wand is supposed looked like. I gave my best guess. PPS: This is how I imagined Penny's tiara, except with a green gem in the centre.

#snowbaz #carry on fanfiction #simon snow #baz pitch #penelope bunce #the mage #royalty au #fairytale au #mysnowbazfic

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