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digitalworldbound · 1 year

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dethroned chapter two

characters: miyako/hikari

summary: Miyako, Princess of the land of Paramoura, is appalled the moment her father tells her she is betrothed to the prince of a neighboring nation. Afterwards, her lady-in-waiting must go, leaving Miyako by herself. In her stead, a young chambermaid by the name of Hikari is expected to fulfill her duties and care for the Princess. Though she does not know much, Hikari brings comfort to Miyako during her darkest hours. Comfort, however, comes with a price, and Miyako's life spirals more out of control as she realizes just how much the chambermaid means to her.

a/n: it's been forever, but the second chapter is finished!

For seven sunrises, King Mako had been unreachable. The eve of his monthly dinner with Princess Miyako arrived and passed without contact; there was too much to do to waste time with tense conversation.

Miyako, despite her best efforts, couldn’t help the dull ache in her heart. Without Meiko, her most trusted confidant, the princess felt on edge. Though Hikari tried her best, her presence made Miyako tense in a way she couldn’t name.

Hikari had taken great care to memorize Miyako’s schedule, patiently waiting for orders before the princess woke. It was endearing, Miyako could admit. When planning outfits or leading the princess from one activity to another, a soft smile would spread across Hikari’s pale pink lips, throughly taking charge of Miyako’s thoughts without so much as a word.

In her rare moments alone, Miyako would replay those quiet moments behind her eyelids. It was as if she were trying to memorize the soft shape of a cloud, wispy and unfocused.

On the seventh morning, just as the sun peeked over the horizon, Miyako arose with a start. Half-asleep, nonsense fell from her lips as she tried to gather her senses.

“Huh?” she managed, rubbing her eyes forcefully.

In the dim light, shadows melded together, a herd of indistinguishable shapes dancing beyond her field of vision.

Blindly, her hand shot out from underneath the covers, prodding the bedside table until her fingers curled around the worn frames of her glasses.

Once her eyes were able to focus, Miyako’s confusion was swiftly replaced with apprehension.

“What’s wrong?”

In the early morning light, Hikari’s cheeks were ashen. Miyako eyed the soot that clung to the hem of Hikari’ skirts. Crackling logs burned in the fireplace, but it was much too early for breakfast.

“Princess, I apologize for waking you, but I bring news from His Royal Highness.”

In the distance, the faint call of a rooster could be heard through the open windows. Downstairs, the cook would be preparing the first meal of the day while the farmer’s surveyed their crops outside.

Inside, Miyako’s heart thumped loudly in her chest. “Does he wish to see me, then?”

Perhaps, if he allowed her to meet with him, she could convince him the very idea of an engagement to the Crown Prince of Kunō . Perhaps, Miyako thought, she could convince him to allow her to make her own choice in the far, far future.

“Ah, no, Your Highness. I was told to pass along the message directly to you.”

Words of anger bubbled up to the tip of Miyako's tongue, but they were drowned in a sea of helplessness. Frustration pulled at her stomach. Salt water blurred her vision. Sympathy burned in Hikari’s gaze, and Miyako couldn’t bear the weight.

Her hands pulled at the covers, hiding herself from the rest of the castle.

Sensing the princess’ distress, Hikari continued.

“Princess, I have prepared a bath for you.”

The young chambermaid fruitlessly stared at the motionless lump underneath the comforter. “Please, Princess. The hot water will do you good.”

The bed creaked as Miyako’s head shot up, lavender hair tangled and disheveled.

“I cannot think of anything that could do me any good. Please, Hikari-san, humor me: what is the point of bathing if I am nothing more than a piece of cattle to be auctioned off to the highest bidder?”

Fiery resistance burned in Miyako’s eyes, but the words that formed on the tip of her tongue vanished with the creak of a door.

Silently, another maid slipped through the bedroom door, greeting the room with a deep bow before getting to work.

“Well, I can assure you that you are much too pretty to be considered a piece of cattle. If it were up to my discretion, I wouldn’t have bothered you, but it’s time to get washed up. Our guest will be arriving soon.”

Aside from the extra maid scraping ashes from the fireplace, an eerie silence settled across the room. Shock settled onto Miyako’s fine features.

“A guest?” The princess didn’t attempt to obscure her growing anger. With her cheeks still swollen from her tears, Miyako had planned to spend the rest of her unmarried life in bed, avoiding her responsibilities - and her father - at all costs.

Hikari kept her face downwards. Approaching the side of the bed with great caution, Miyako had little time to prepare for the comforter being tugged from her body.

“The Crown Prince of Kunō is to see you this afternoon. It is believed that if you were to become better acquainted with the young prince, that the union would be… better received.”

Shock replaced Miyako’s anger in an instant. “And what if I refuse? If my father is concerned about this union, then the whole ordeal should be forgotten! I cannot avoid my duty to wed someone of good standing; shouldn’t I at least have a say as to whom I spend the rest of my life with?”

Without another word, the princess slumped against the pillows. For a brief moment, she considered apologizing to Hikari for her improper behavior, but couldn’t find it within herself to care. Once Miyako married, she would be whisked away from Paramoura; she would be whisked away from Hikari.

The thought elicited a dull ache from her chest, but Miyako paid it no mind.

A small thrum of noise, with no more resonance than the hum of a bird’s wings, reverberated in the small room. “Excuse me for overstepping, Princess,” Hikari began, finger fiddling with a short strand of hair, “But perhaps this is His Royal Highness’ way of making you comfortable before the situation is more, ah, permanent.”

Quickly, as if to avoid punishment for speaking out, Hikari turned her back towards the princess. Instead of fiddling with her hair, Hikari gracefully rummaged through the armoire, aimlessly sorting through evening gowns.

“How can Father expect me to see any kindness in his gestures if he can’t muster the courage to tell me first?” Miyako’s knuckles faded to white around fistfuls of the bed covers. The sunshine that dappled across her cheeks no longer brought her warmth. Instead, a lone tear traced a path down her face. The princess swallowed, her voice no louder than a whisper. “It seems that the castle knows more of my engagement than I do.”

At the mouth of the armoire, Hikari’s tinkering stopped. Slowly, she stood up, her brown eyes wide with sadness. Her mouth opened once, but her words remained unsaid.

Instead, Hikari’s feet padded lightly towards Miyako’s bedside. Without a word, she rested her palm on the princess’ shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Princess,” she muttered in a low voice. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed that the other maid was hard at work fanning the coals back to life, but just in case, Hikari leaned down, her mouth level to the princess’ ear. “You deserved better.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Time seemed to suspend between them. Miyako’s heart fluttered dangerously.

It was forbidden to speak against the King or his orders, but Hikari had placed herself in a compromising position to comfort her. The princess had every right to reprimand her or demand another maid, but instead of anger, Miyako’s chest filled with gratitude.

The princess tried not to think about the warmth that radiated from Hikari’s palm, or the way her stomach flipped at their proximity.

Hikari’s voice was soft as she broke the silence. “The Prince of Kunō will be arriving this afternoon. It’s best to prepare yourself, Princess.”

With her words hanging in the air, Hikari walked past Miyako’s folded body. She rummaged through the antique armoire, a bundle of blue fabric emerging in her grasp.

Miyako drew her knees up to her chin. A sense of finality drew her shoulders together in protest. Her bottom lip wobbled, hazel eyes glassy.

A bundle of fabric was delicately held out, an encouraging smile lightening Hikari’s features.

“My lady, forgive me, but I have been given strict orders to make you presentable. We are running out of time and the King is running out of patience.”

Hikari watched the way Miyako clutched the gown pitifully to her chest, defeat curling her shoulders inward. “I will give you a moment to yourself, but you must hurry before the water gets cold.”

The lady-in-waiting quietly slipped her hand from the princess’ shoulder, concern etched into her eyebrows.

Once Miyako’s skin was scrubbed pink, Hikari dressed her quickly. By the time the pair made their way down the staircase, the Crown Prince and his entourage, sans King Aoki, were waiting expectedly.

Outside, the sun shone down mockingly. Blades of grass slipped underneath Miyako’s satin shoes. Wistfully, she longed to throw them off and run around barefooted, but with her father’s guards carefully watching her every move, having fun would not be an option.

Beside her, dressed nicely if not stiffly, Crown Prince Daisuke rambled on about little matters. Silently. Miyako learned about Kunō’s best imports, Daisuke’s favorite meal to eat on cloudy days, and that his least favorite flower was the tulip.

Eventually, his words ran dry. An awkward tension simmered between them, but the prince either didn’t notice or didn’t care to comment.

It didn’t matter, Miyako decided. They were there for business and nothing more.

Together, along with their lady-in-waiting and courier, the pair meandered towards town.

Miyako, burdened with the task of giving Daisuke a tour, grumbled underneath her breath as they stepped onto the pebbled pathway.

“What was that, Princess?” Daisuke’s voice tilted up in a teasing manner. Nonchalantly, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. The courier tutted in disapproval, but the sound only served to make Daisuke’s mischievous grin wider.

Warmth crawled up Miyako’s neck. “I-I was just commenting on how lovely the weather feels.” She did not dare look into his eyes; Miyako had always been a horrible liar.

Whether or not she was happy about their inevitable union, the princess had her job to do. Politeness was necessary, first and foremost. If her father found out about her abysmal behavior, he would write her out of the family tree.

His disappointment would be too much to bear.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Daisuke commented, a grin evident in his words. Even when they were younger, the Crown Prince had always been the type to make light of any situation. Determined for everyone to like him, Daisuke was practiced in the ways of navigating tense conversation.

Before Miyako could respond, the prince swiftly changed the subject. “Paramoura is beautiful in the afternoon sunlight, but you knew that already. I know that you’ll be sad to leave it behind.”

For the umpteenth time that day, Miyako’s heart lurched. Everywhere she looked was a bitter reminder of what she had already lost. Upon her marriage, Miyako would no longer be the Princess of Paramoura, but the new Queen of Kunō.

A shiver ran up her spine at the thought.

“Nothing pains me more than to leave my country behind, Your Highness. If I had a choice, I would stay here for the rest of my life.”

Once the words were out of her mouth, Miyako bit her lip. Too much information had slipped, tears threatening to spill.

Behind them, Hikari made a small noise in her throat, warning Miyako not to push too far. The lady-in-waiting’s worry was for naught, however.

Miyako hid a sniffle behind her sleeve. “I am sorry, Your Highness. Please forgive me and my impertinence. Kunō is beautiful, and I am sure that I will find happiness there.”

Crown Prince Daisuke merely shook his head before nudging the princess’ shoulder with his own. “Come on now, Princess. We know each other better than that. Don’t tell me that you’ve forgotten all of those times we made mud pies in your garden as children. I even recall the day your mother joined us and insisted that we host a tea party with the frogs and the grasshoppers.” He offered her a gentle smile as they continued their stroll. “If I were in your position, I wouldn’t want to leave either.”

At the mention of her mother, Miyako finally looked up. Her hazel eyes raked over her friend’s features, a sense of familiarity settling her nerves.

Despite the years spent apart, Daisuke was just as she remembered him. His auburn hair glinted wildly in the sun. Years of horseback riding and sword fighting had left his skin permanently golden, a few freckles outlining the bridge of his nose. The prince had been her best friend when she was younger, but now it was difficult to even look at him.

Daisuke must have sensed her train of thought. Their pace gradually slowed to that of a leisurely walk.

Miyako hadn’t noticed how quickly her feet were moving. It was as if her body was trying to remove itself from the equation, prepared to leave the others behind for a brief moment alone.

“We have too much history for this to put a strain on our friendship. Please, feel free to call me Prince or Daisuke or anything else you desire. All I ask is that you do not refer to me as ‘Your Highness’.”

“I will,” Miyako readily promised, clearing her throat, “But if I am close enough to you to refer to you casually, I need to know that I can also be honest with you.”

Momentarily, Daisuke’s deep brown eyes widened. Hikari made another sound of warning, but Miyako dutifully ignored her. Even Daisuke’s courier looked at the princess curiously, but wisely kept his mouth shut. They were both bound to their charges, and were forbidden from disclosing any information the prince or the princess said.

Outside of the guard’s earshot, Miyako was safe to say whatever she wished.

“We are betrothed to be married.”

For a moment, Daisuke merely stood in place. “Well,” he began, a hand covering his mouth, “Yes. Yes, we are.” With pink cheeks, he refused to meet her gaze.

Miyako could feel warmth on her own cheeks. Tension unyieldingly simmered in the air between them.

As babes, their parents had expected romance to bloom between them, but when looking at Daisuke’s profile outlined by a golden sun, Miyako could feel the truth pulsing in her veins.

Growing up with someone was not always synonymous with love.

Miyako, unperturbed, continued. “We are betrothed to be married, but I know that I could never love you.” She paused, considering. “Not in the way that a wife should love her husband, anyway.”

From somewhere beside them, a bird chirped merrily from its perch. Hikari inhaled sharply, undoubtedly shocked at the princess’ audacity.

Surprisingly, Daisuke remained silent. The group continued down the path away from the castle, the clamors of vendors and children playing on the street filling providing a comforting ambiance.

“You’ve always been a good friend to me Daisuke, but you deserve to know that our prospective marriage will be built on duty and duty alone.”

“Princess, for once, you are wrong.” Before Miyako could retort, Daisuke held up both hands in surrender, a small smile playing on the corners of his lips. “Our marriage would also be built on respect. Your bravery just now was unexpected, but not unsurprising. You’ve always been one to say what is on your mind, even when we were younger.”

Behind them, a sigh of relief escaped Hikari.

“Besides,” the prince continued, “I couldn’t say I’m all that excited about marrying you, either.”

The corners of Miyako’s lips turned upward for the first time in days. Even if her father couldn’t understand her, Daisuke did in his own way. “This is a disaster.”

“Yes, Princess, it is.”

Afterwards, the Crown Prince kept his meeting brief. As soon the pair had reached the heart of town, they turned back. Though Miyako enjoyed Daisuke’s easygoing humor, she was glad to be rid of him. Their shared childhood meant naught.

The vision of Daisuke now served as a reminder of the freedom she would never have.

Dutifully, Hikari gave her lady space. Beyond helping her dress and get ready for meals, their conversations were nondescript.

It was for the better, Miyako thought. Seeing Daisuke again had muddled her thoughts, and she needed a moment to sort them out.

Despite his welcoming smile and chitchat, the Crown Prince of Kunō was looking forward to their union as much as Miyako was. That was to say, not at all.

Briefly, she wonder if he had a girl waiting for him at home, someone he loved with his entire heart.

A true love, Miyako mused, being torn apart for the sake of business.

As the princess idly flipped through the worn pages of her favorite novel, her mind remained with Daisuke. The chair, sandwiched between the bookshelves that lined Miyako’s wall, creaked in protest as the princess restlessly shifted her weight.

Miyako, with her moody temperament and sulky expressions, could no longer find it surprising that her father had arranged a match for her. There had been any other prospects that banged down their door, hoping for a chance at her hand.

Prince Daisuke, however, was sunshine personified. If there had been a person more deserving of a happy ending, Miyako could not think of them. King Aoki, Daisuke’s father, would not have any problem finding his son a wife in Kunō.

And yet, and yet…

With a soft creak, Miyako’s musings were interrupted. Her eyes seemed to follow the brunette’s slight form as the new lady-in-waiting came into view. Though Hikari’s gown had been rid of the soot from days prior, it hung loosely from her shoulders.

The drab brown and beige should have done little for her complexion, but Hikari’s cheeks were perpetually rosy.

Hikari tip-toed over discarded gowns and stockings, eyeing the closed window with suspicion. Rain or shine, Miyako enjoyed the smell of nature and the sounds of the townsfolk. For her to withhold such a simple pleasure from herself was a troubling sign.

Hikari’s heart ached for her princess before she straightened her shoulders. “I’m glad to see you up, Princess.”

The turning of a page was Miyako’s only response. From her perch in the corner, the princess watch as Hikari straightened the bed covers. Turning her hazel eyes back to the novel, she absorbed nothing. A dull ache thrummed in her skull.

Miyako resisted the urge to toss her glasses across the room. Being angry was acceptable, but throwing a tantrum was a different matter altogether.

“Instead of attending tea,” Hikari began, tentatively glancing at the princess over her shoulder, “How would you rather spend your time? I could escort you to the library, or perhaps you could take a turn in the garden. The fresh air has missed you.”

Light filtered through the closed window pane. The pages of the novel flutter shut with a sigh.

“All I know is that I don’t want to read; escaping into a novel cannot fix my problems. I’m frustrated. I’m scared. I’m mad.” She paused to catch her breath. “As a princess, I cannot speak freely; I cannot even attend a meal without a person by my side. Every word that spouts from my lips, every action I dare to make, is a representation of my father and my country. For once, I wish that I could speak and act as Miyako.”

Hikari’s fingers twisted together. “Well, perhaps a moment outside would help clear-”

“No, thank you.” The princess couldn’t feel any remorse for interrupting. “Behind those gates, I am nothing more than a pawn to be used in my father’s games. The garden is just an illusion of freedom; I would rather rot inside.”

An idea blossomed in Hikari’s mind, a strange mixture of excitement and anxiety bubbling in her stomach. “I may have an idea, Princess, if…”

“If?” Miyako encouraged. The chair creaked once more as the princess straightened.

Pearly white teeth dug into Hikari’s plush bottom lip. Miyako couldn’t help the way her gaze floated down, hyper focused on how pink her lady-in-waiting cheeks had become.

“If you’d be willing to go beyond the castle walls, that is.”

Much of Miyako’s upbringing had focused on the ins and outs of the castle. Once, when she was hardly a girl, the princess begged her father to let her explore the country on her own.

“Please, Father,” she remembered whining, “I just want to see the farmers at work.”

“You should only concern yourself with the food on your table, not in the ground. Your place is inside, Miyako. It will serve you well to remember.”

With her father’s words still ringing in her ears, Princess Miyako looked to her lady-in-waiting, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Actually, Hikari-san,” Miyako began, eyes glittering with mischief, “That sounds quite intriguing. ”

#miyako inoue #hikari yagami #miyakari

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draconic-ichor · 2 years

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Love-Struck

Part 4

Matilda x Lír

Elden ring dabble

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, angst, heartbreak

Summary: There’s a bump in the developing relationship…

Feedback appreciated, 18+

As time went on the princess’s and the knight's walks grew longer, and talking became whispers. Their closeness didn’t go unnoticed, by both the royal couple and the other knights.

Gossip started to seep around the halls….

Far in the gardens, the pair sat close together. Deep ambers of the setting sun almost made Matilda’s golden horns glow.

“I do actually have a tail.” Matilda murmured.

Lír’s face dipped in closer, foreheads almost touching. Both their lips curled into soft smiles, giggles bubbling in their voices. A soft blush peppered over their cheeks, warmth blooming the longer they spoke.

“Show me?” He asked mischievously, amber eyes sparkling.

“No!” She feigned offense, face reddening a bit more, “It’s rude to ask some things of a Lady.”

Realizing exactly what he asked, his face flushed crimson.

Matilda fell into a fit of giggles, not seeing him embarrassed often. She reached out, taking his chin, tilting him closer. He sobered, meeting her clouded gaze, eyes shifting between them to her lips. Her heart hammered, pulling him closer.

Their lips met softly.

Her stomach flipped, feeling a pulse of electricity crackle between them. She gasped as he deepened the kiss. They moved a bit closer, heat blossoming in his gut.

His fingers tentatively found her cheek, her fur soft as down. All at once the gravity of their situation hit him. Lír froze.

Matilda opened her eyes, worry curdling her guts as she looked at him questioningly. Lír pulled away sharply, face pale.

“D-did I do something wrong?” She asked quickly.

“This…this is inappropriate.” He whispered, voice strained, “We can’t do this.” He pulled away, body tight and distress filtering over his face.

“What?” Matilda felt her blood run cold, “What do you mean? I-I thought-,”

“You are the daughter of the GodLord…” he frowned, looking down at himself, “A-And I am in her service…this isn’t right. The others already say I’m abusing the bonds of our friendship…”

“L-Lír I…I care for you!” Matilda blurted out, his words stinging like poisoned needles in her skin. Her eyes pricked with tears.

Lír shook his head, pain flashing over his face, “They will only see this as an attempt to reach above my station…I can’t sully your name this way. We can’t do this.” His voice sounded certain, attempting to convince himself just as much as her.

She felt like breaking, glass cracking in her chest as he backed away. He looked to her tear stained face, trembling a bit, but then retreated away quickly. She heard his hurried footsteps get fainter as he left the castle gardens.

Matilda sat stunned for a moment, feeling as if the world was falling in around her.

The Lady Tarnished rubbed her daughter’s back in gentle circles, face solemn. Matilda laid on her bed, face buried in her pillows as she cried. For the moment, she was inconsolable. Her mother stayed by her side, quietly giving comfort.

Hearing the distress, Morgott entered the room. Anger filtered over his features at seeing his daughter so heartbroken. His grip on the cane tightened, knuckles white. Before he could speak the tarnished fixed him with a sharp glance.

She mouthed the words silently: ‘Not a word.’

He squared his jaw a bit before turning on his heels and disappearing into the hall.

Days later Morgott found himself walking through the gardens. Matilda stopped crying, but was far from alright. He expected the sadness to be fleeting, a simple fancy.

She’d hadn’t left her room or eaten more than a few bites, Morgott hadn’t realized how deeply she cared for the knight. He didn’t care much for the idea of his daughter trifling about with men, yet he wished to see her happiness more.

He came across a young knight, sitting quietly on one of the stone steps.

The man was bent forward, helmet cast aside to reveal mahogany curls. Hearing the omen approach, he looked up suddenly. Morgott saw a mixture of fear and shock filter over the knight’s face as he scrambled to his feet.

“My Lord.” He saluted.

“At ease..” Morgott paused, tail flicking a bit behind him.

The knight swallowed, before sinking back down onto the bench. His posture stayed ridged bower, tension thick in the air.

“Art thou the one that hast caused mine own daughter such distress?” Morgott asked gruffly.

The man flinched before answering honestly, “Regrettably, my Lord.”

“Thou must be quite the man to bring Matilda to tears, she’s usually not one swayed so easily.” Morgott commented, raising a brow.

“My Lord, I-,” Lír began to stammer but a raised hand stopped him.

“Thou doth not need to give mineself a reason I've already been privy to.” He lowered his hand, speaking more gently, “I simply wish to offer advice. Prithee, humor an old man, if only for a moment.”

The knight looked taken back, nodding quickly once he caught himself, “O-Of course, my Lord.”

Morgott leaned heavily on his cane, eyes steady as he regarded the young knight, “I have found that people will say what they will no matter the circumstances…that it is foolish to let such gossip rule over one’s happiness. Doth not waste a lifetime in discovering that fact, as I have.”

Lír looked down at his boots, face solemn as he listened.

The other sighed, adding, “I will not force thee, but know this: Thou has my blessings if you should choose to pursue her…”

The knight’s head snapped up, amber eyes pooling with confusion. He looked as if he wanted to speak, mouth open. Whatever words died on his tongue; gaze shifting downwards once more, in thought.

Morgott nodded, turning to make his way back to the castle. Lír watched him go, head a mess.

Many long moments passed, until suddenly a thought struck the young man. He was on his feet in a moment, off on a quest of sorts.

#Matilda and Lír #angst dabbles #sad shit yo #elden ring #elden ring dabbles #a Morgling

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tornadoyoungiron · 2 years

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A GOLDEN SOUL - Chapter 11 - A Tornado Descends

James confronts Green Arrow and Edward. The opening of Sodor's NRM branch has a dark undercurrent while Tornado discovers some dark truths.

Great Northern finds himself exiled by the A3 and A4 Pacifics of the LNER after his new rebuild.

Ao3 | Ff.net

"I thought you'd be up at the castle today Mr Fancy Wheels," James sneered as he came upon Green Arrow sitting in a siding at Edward's station.

"Ms Tornado's taking my place," Arrow said, gazing up at the sky. "It's good for her to be in the public eye again. I don't want her to be in disgrace."

James just snorted.

"Makes a change from you stealing everyone's jobs," James muttered and Arrow glanced at him.

"I don't try to steal jobs," Arrow said earnestly. "It's not my intention to. I apologise if I give off that impression."

James just huffed at him.

"You're just a smaller, weaker version of Gordon and Scotsman. I don't see why an engine like you was preserved," he said snootily and Green Arrow glared at him.

It always rankled him when other engines compared him to the A3 Pacifics or called him a weaker version of them. James had continuously done this and he'd usually mostly ignore the obvious jabs, however, the stress from worrying over Mallard had gotten him to a breaking point.

"At least I don't crash every time I go around a corner," Arrow hissed at the red engine and James looked furious.

"Well, at least my bogey wheels don't derail every other mile!" James fumed and Arrow hissed steam at him in response.

"At least my entire personality is based around the colour of my paint!" Arrow snarled viscously. "And I've seen the way you follow Gordon around like a lost puppy trying to impress and copy him! It's honestly pathetic!"

James' eyes widened in shock and a look of hurt washed across his face immediately making Arrow regret his words.

"I- I'm sorry James that was harsh of me," He apologised. "I didn't mean to be so nasty."

James just glared at him, steam gathering around him in an angry cloud as he released it.

Arrow frowned.

"But that being said, you've been nothing but nasty to me ever since I arrived here," Arrow said. "I haven't done anything to try and antagonise you. Hell, even Gordon treats me with more respect than you do, just what is your problem with me?"

"You think you're a better version of me!" James shouted and Arrow just raised an eyebrow.

"I- no I don't, what are you talking about?" Arrow asked, confused. "I don't think that at all."

"Yes, you do! I've seen the way you looked at me! All snooty and condescending!" James snapped.

"That's was because you did nothing but bully me when I was mute so getting one up on you made it all the sweeter!" Arrow shot back angrily. "You were so horrible to me when I couldn't speak! I couldn't defend myself but you and your friends always found every chance to insult or humiliate me!"

Green Arrow had been shouting louder now, his voice rising and getting even more upset as he began to rile himself up, remembering his first months on Sodor.

"You have no idea the hell all of you put me through! I was so scared and I felt so helpless for months!" He yelled at James who had gone silent. "The only time I got peace was when Edward or Thomas helped me! Why can't you all just leave me alone!"

He was both angry and on the verge of tears as he remembered how unwelcome he had been on Sodor. Months of undealt with emotions bubbling to the surface. He panted and grit his teeth, desperately trying to stop himself from having a meltdown.

James could only sit in silence and feel awkward and be filled with regret.

"What's going on here?" Edward called sternly as he pulled up behind James. "James, you're going to be late with your trucks." He admonished.

James looked away from Arrow and pulled away with his trucks as Edward watched him go completely confused. He glanced over at Green Arrow who was in clear distress.

"Arrow what's wrong?" Edward asked, deeply concerned. "Did James upset you?"

"I- I- no I just…" Arrow stammered before screwing his eyes shut and trying to stop himself from crying. "I don't-"

"It's alright Arrow, I won't judge you for being upset," Edward assured him. "Please tell me what's wrong so I can help."

"I just, I'm so stressed, everything that's happened in the past year… I just, everything came up all at once I don't- I'm sorry-" Arrow stammered quickly. "It wasn't just James, it was… everything everyone did or said. I thought I was over it, but clearly not."

Edward gave Arrow a sympathetic glance.

"I'll give your work to BoCo and Bear and you can have a day off," Edward said kindly. "You're clearly not in any shape to run, dear friend."

Green Arrow looked ready to argue but Edward cut him off.

"No and or buts, I must insist and I won't take no for an answer," Edward said. "I'll ask Henry or Thomas to look after you if they can. You can go to Tidmouth sheds and rest for the rest of the day."

"But the Fat Controller-"

"My driver will phone him and tell him what happened," Edward said with a smile. "You've been through a lot Arrow, you deserve some rest every now and then."

Arrow sniffed as he looked at the old blue engine.

Edward had always been so kind to him since the day he had arrived on Sodor. He'd been so willing to help him, no matter the issue.

He smiled at the blue engine with deep gratitude.

"You've always been so nice to me Edward," he said, his voice quiet and laced with unshed tears. "Thank you so much."

Edward smiled at him kindly. "It is my pleasure, Green Arrow. Now off you go."

Edward watched as Green Arrow shuffled off slowly, clearly in no rush. The blue engine frowned as Arrow was out of eyesight and stared down at the track to where James had hurriedly disappeared.

He would have to have a stern chat with the red engine.

~~~

#ttte golden soul #ttte great northern #ttte fanfic #ttte young iron #ttte tornado #ttte mallard #ttte city of truro #ttte green arrow #ttte edward #ttte james

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twilight-orchid · 3 years

Text

How the Undatebales React After A Fight

Thank you to my friendo @wholelottatiffy who helped me brainstorm this one. I’m only on chapter 19 at the moment, so I haven’t interacted with anyone but Diavolo much. And thank you to everyone who wanted a follow up to my previous post, I did not expect that. Y’all are super sweet!

tw: Fighting (a bit more in depth than my first post), description of panic attack, minor name calling, insecurity, depression, angst with resolution.

Diavolo:

Diavolo doesn’t know what to do with himself.

To start, we need to talk about how the argument unfolds.

He’s not used to arguing.

He’s Lord Diavolo, Prince of The Devildom, head of the RAD student council. No one defys him on anything.

So you raising your voice at him, trying to get him to see your way,

It was very overwhelming.

He tried to reason calmly with you at first, but he felt cornered.

When fight or flight kicked in, his body chose fight.

His wings burst open in all their glory as he screamed back, his towering frame far more intimidating than yours.

The blind rage is slapped out of him when he sees your terrified face.

If you’re at the castle, he’ll order you to leave if you haven’t already. Anywhere else, he’ll turn and leave without a word.

He wants to put distance between you both for fear of making things worse.

He absolutely cannot believe he just blew up at you. He would have never thought he'd raise his voice at his partner regardless of the situation.

He can’t shake the image of you flinching from him from his mind.

Now, being the prince of hell certainty has it’s perks; He has power, influence, and everything he could want.

But the one thing he wants the most seems to evade him no matter what: a friend.

A real friend.

He has Barbatos and Lucifer, but it’s Barbatos’ job to accompany the prince, and Lucifer is bound to Diavolo whether he likes the future king or not.

MC was the first person who chooses to be with and around him for no other reason than the fact that they love him.

And now he’s terrified them. Gotten in their face and screamed at them.

He assumes he’s permanently driven you away.

As soon as you leave or he gets home, he rushes to find Barbatos. To explain what happened and hope his butler would know what to do.

He’ll text Lucifer and ask him to check on you as well.

He just feels lost.

He wanders the palace aimlessly and he can’t focus on his work without his thoughts drifting to you.

He doesn’t feel like going to school or even getting out of bed. He doesn’t want to speak to anyone - to put on a happy face and pretend his world isn’t shaking.

Yet, a prince has his responsibilities. He will go about his normal public appearances as usual, smile and laugh and carry on, but it’s a mask.

Those close to him clearly notice the prince isn’t himself.

After school he visits the spots that you two visit together frequently.

Anything to make him feel as if you are still at his side.

If you don’t sleep in his bed that night, he’ll take it as proof that he was right and that you don’t want to be with him anymore.

He doesn’t sleep that night. He clutches your pillow that still smells of you and just bawls.

He will tell Barbatos he feels unwell the next morning and to postpone his obligations for the day.

This prompts Barbatos to seek you out and see if he can help resolve the issue.

Barbatos tries to stay out of your relationship as he doesn't feel it's his business, but his job is to assist Diabolo in any way necessary. And right now, he needs you more than anything.

If you sleep at his side still, it will be a glimmer a hope. That all may not be lost.

He’ll give you you space that night. He’ll walk around you on eggshells but always watch you from the corner of his eye to gauge the temperature.

He avoids your gaze, stays on the other side of the room as you prepare for bed, and as much as it kills him, doesn’t hug you or kiss you goodnight.

He spends the night staring at your sleeping face and making silent promises that, if you forgive him, he will never let this happen again.

He thinks of how to apologize. What he could say, what he could do.

Ultimately though, it feels like everything he could think of is too little of an apology.

He pretends to be asleep when he sees you stir and decides to let you choose if you want to forgive him on your own.

You will have to approach him first.

He thinks losing his temper with you was unacceptable and feels like he has no right to ask for your forgiveness.

Worse, he’s terrified of not being given forgiveness.

Thus, I feel a fight with Diavolo will take as long as you let it. He’s willing to suffer as long as you need him to.

Barbatos:

Barbatos doesn’t argue. He sits quietly and watches you, his responses calm but absolute.

He’s no pushover, he will defend his side, but he’s not going to enter a screaming match. It’s just not him.

You know you’ve really gotten under his skin when he offers a tight, forcefully pleasant smile.

He finally shuts down the conflict with "It's your right to feel that way just as it's mine to disagree." And leave it at that.

Post argument, he will avoid you and lock his feelings about the fight inside.

He tells himself he doesn’t have time to deal with the terrible feeling clawing at his heart and takes to his duties as an escape.

If you sleep in another room, he realizes that this isn’t a minor disagreement and he’s suddenly very distressed.

His instinct is to use his future vision.

To scour the timelines and see how the different versions of himself handle it and to replicate the one with the most desirable outcome.

However, he stops himself. He feels it isn’t fair to you.

You have a right to be upset about things and he doesn’t want to manipulate the situation, and by extension, you.

Thus, he must find another way to cope.

He’s always a devoted butler, but it’s not his whole life.

He takes time for himself throughout the day and in the evenings. Unless Diavolo needs him, nights are usually his to do with as he wants.

Now, however, his identity becomes Diavolo’s butler.

He’s constantly asking for extra work and hovering more than usual around the young lord in hopes of being given a task.

Diavolo finds it odd and asks about it, but he brushes it off. This isn’t anyone else’s business, least of all his employer’s.

Even though Barbatos won’t tell him, Diavolo can clearly tell his friend is off.

In hopes of giving him something to distract himself with, Diavolo requests hellfire mushroom rolled cigar cookies and Barbatos jumps on the opportunity.

Baking has always been his escape as well as his happy place. Diavolo’s favorite isn’t easy to make, so he looked forward to the task.

And it worked. Keeping track of the ingredients, the steps, and the technique required was enough to occupy his mind.

But then it was time to wait for it to bake.

He suddenly feels trapped in the suffocating silence of the kitchen.

His mind replays the argument on repeat as he falls down a rabbit hole of what ifs.

He loves you more than anything and the last thing he could ever want is for you to be mad at him.

No, the worst thing would to no longer be able to call you his.

Suddenly, he becomes aware of the sharp scent of burnt food.

He jumps up and runs to the oven. He’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed the timer go off.

He pulls the blackened desert out, puts the cookie sheet on the stove top, and just stares at the burnt cookies.

His sight blurs and a soft sob escapes from the prison he’s created in his heart.

He wasn’t crying because he burnt the cookies, but because they were a visual representation of everything he’s been trying to suppress.

Once he collects himself, he knows he can’t continue like this.

He doesn’t want to invade your space in case you’re still mad, but he needs a resolution.

He’ll send a quick text and silently begs you to respond.

“MC, I understand if you are still upset with me, but would you be willing to talk though it? I look forward to hearing from you.”

If you still sleep with him that night, it is a great weight off of his shoulders.

He hopes it means that it will be easier to make up with you and that you aren’t too mad.

When you wake up, he will be watching you like he has all night with a small, tired smile.

He’ll put on your favorite tea as you get ready for the day then asks if you’d be willing to talk things over.

Because of how it affects both his job and himself, a fight with Barbados will not last long. He’ll seek a resolution by one, maybe two days tops.

Solomon:

Lucifer may be the avatar of pride, but Solomon can certainly give the demon a run for his money.

In the moment of a particularly heated argument, he absolutely will not admit he’s wrong.

In fact, he really doesn’t consider it a possibility.

There’s no point in trying to get him to see your side until things have calmed down. It’s like talking to a brick wall.

He won’t yell, but he gets a pissy, condescending tone and almost talks down to you.

If you really push his buttons, his patience with this “useless” argument runs out.

“Oh please, listen to yourself! You’re acting like a dull child!”

Freezes as soon as it leaves his mouth.

He didn’t mean to say that.

He opens his mouth to apologize immediately, but upon seeing your hurt reaction he becomes flustered and can’t get the words out.

He’ll simply turn and leave.

He’s absolutely furious with himself.

Solomon is old and wise. He’s seen many things, been many places, and he knows many things.

Sometimes though, he needs a reminder that he doesn’t know everything.

Even if he still feels he was right, he knows name-calling is unacceptable.

In fact, he doesn’t miss the irony that he was the one being childish.

His self-fury is replaced by overwhelming worry if you sleep in another room that night.

Of all the treasures he’s come across, none were as precious as you.

He can’t stand the thought of losing you because of his thoughtlessness.

For once, he feels like an idiot.

He locks himself in his study that night and brainstorms on how to make it up to you.

He decides to approach you in the morning at RAD. He’s terrified that you think he actually meant the insult and wants to clear the air as soon as possible.

He’s afraid of you taking anything less than his highest praise to heart or for you to think that he views you as below himself.

The thought of how he must have made you feel makes him sick to his stomach.

The more he thinks about it, the more his body demands that he act.

While he has many virtues, patience is not high on his list.

Assuming you returned to The House of Lamentation that night, he’ll text Asmo to explain what happened and asks if he’d let him in first thing in the morning.

Thus, when you leave to head for breakfast, be careful not to trip over your sorcerer who’s seated against the wall outside of your room.

He scrambles to his feet, his hair and clothes a mess and bags heavy under his eyes.

“MC! Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I just- *sighs* I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. Would you be willing to discuss the matter again? The right way this time.”

If you do sleep with him, he’s at least relieved that you don’t seem like you plan to leave him.

Once again, however, he wants to clear the air as soon as he can.

You’ll both be sitting in silence as you get ready for bed. He’s clearly lost in thought, his eyes focused unblinking on his feet and any movements slow and disjointed.

He's not sure how to apologize, if it's too soon, and is afraid to make things worse if it's not an appropriate time.

However, seeing you move about the room he decides to risk it so he doesn't risk losing you.

Suddenly, he stands up straight and locks eyes with you.

“MC, we don’t have to talk about the fight tonight, but I need you to know that I didn’t mean what I said. I’m sorry.”

It’s up to you if you want to forgive him immediately, but he will at least apologize for the insult as soon as he gathers his thoughts.

Simeon:

If you yell at him, Simeon is just gonna sit there stunned

Your relationship is usually as laid back as he is, so he doesn't know what to do with you blowing up at him.

All he knows it that this is bad and he needs to find a way to make you happy again.

The thought of losing you takes precedence over everything and, though he will not sway to your side just because you’re upset, the argument loses any worth it had to him.

He’ll go to Solomon almost immediately in hopes your fellow human might know better about how arguments are resolved between human couples.

He becomes very distressed when Solomon says everyone handles it differently. He then asks what he should to make up with you specifically.

He doesn't have a defined emotion right now, he's just on edge. He wants to gather information first and foremost so he can figure out what to do from there.

He’s just a walking ball of anxiety and those close to the angel even become concerned. No one has seen him like this before.

If you decide to sleep in another room, the anxiety just takes over.

His chest feels like fiery chains are crushing his ribs, he can hear his heart is hammering in his head, and his body begins to shake as if he were buried in an avalanche.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying as he struggles to breathe.

Solomon had expected something like this may happen so he made sure to be nearby to help coach him though it.

Once he’s calmed down, Solomon urges him to talk to you as soon as possible.

Simeon isn't sure though. True, he wasn't in a good place, but he didn't want to push you if you weren't ready to talk.

He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t feel like he can think let alone coherently tell you how he feels.

He begins to feel overwhelmed again and decides to try writing down his thoughts in hopes of it helping him sort through the tsunami of emotions consuming him.

While it doesn't completely calm him down, it does help.

He stares down at the messy, tear blotted papee and has an idea.

The next morning you should expect to find a hand-written letter slipped under you door.

The letter is long and and rambling. His usually pristine handwriting is as shaky as his hands were when writing it.

It's not as dense and heartbroken as his original one, but the further it goes the more desperate his words become.

He writes about how much you mean to him and apologizes for allowing things to get that intense. He writes that he loves you and doesn’t want to lose you.

He reminisces about his favorite memories of you two together more than once.

Finally, that no disagreement you two could ever have is more importantly to him than being with you.

It's really just a collection of everything sitting on his heart at the moment.

That day at RAD he’ll watch you from the sidelines and pray you approach him about the letter so you two can work things out.

If you still sleep in his bed, he’ll be very conflicted about if he should approach you yet.

He’s afraid of making it worse if you’re still mad.

However, Simeon is an open book when it comes to his emotions so you will absolutely be able to tell that he’s freaking out.

So please, save the man a terrible night and talk it though with him.

He wants you to not be angry anymore, but even if you’re still upset just having concrete information to cling to will help him immensely.

He’s thinking of all the worst case scenarios and needs reassurance that the relationship isn’t over.

Simeon will try to make up within a day, so however long it lasts after that is up to you.

Luke (MC is his best friend):

Luke will be very, very distressed.

You’re his best friend aside from Simeon. Friends don’t fight like this, right?

Wait, so if you’re fighting with him, does that mean you’re not his friend anymore???

As soon as the thought enters his mind, he decides that must be the case.

Real friends don’t fight with each other like this.

Externally he takes a “I don’t need a lousy human like you for a friend anyway” attitude.

He’s not just testy with you though, anyone who interacts with him that day learns that chihuahuas bite.

Simeon immediately realizes something isn’t right and is very concerned.

As soon as he asks him what’s wrong, Luke's mask of anger is discarded and he tosses himself in the older angel’s arms crying hysterically.

He doesn’t want to lose you for a friend.

I doubt Luke has ever truly argued with someone so this uncharted territory is earth shattering to him.

Simeon, as he tries to calm Luke, he will text you and ask you to come to wherever they are immediately.

Because of Simeon’s intervention, the fight will only go undiscussed for a few hours max.

Again, sorry if I don’t know these characters as well as I’d like yet. Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obeyme #obey me shall we date #obey me diavolo #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo x mc #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x mc #obey me barbatos x reader #Obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #obey me solomon x mc #obey me simeon #obey me simeon x reader #obey me simeon x mc #obey me luke #obey me undateables #obey me headcanons

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cherienymphe · 3 years

Text

Bloodied Crowns (Peter Parker x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, STEPCEST, murder, violence, abusive realtionships, Tony x reader, prince!Peter, king!Tony, queen!Reader

➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ based off of this ask

summary: When your husband, King Anthony, is killed in a coup staged by his son from his previous marriage, Peter, you are forced to marry the young man who no longer feels the need to hide his feelings.

Peter was only eighteen when you married the king, the stern monarch losing his wife only a few months prior. The engagement and the wedding happened so quickly, and before you knew it, you were married to King Anthony Stark. Truth be told, you’d feared that you’d never marry at all, and that you’d bring shame to your name, but a stroke of luck, or perhaps misfortune, had put you directly into the king’s path.

Your family had attended the queen’s funeral to pay your respects. It had been drilled into you to catch the eye of an available suitor, as it had been many times before, and while you were disgusted that you could not even properly pay your respects to the royal family, you understood your parents’ desperation. You were twenty-eight with no prospects on the horizon. They had no other children, no sons, your mother unable to conceive after yourself, and so the weight of carrying on the family name was solely on your shoulders.

Your family was not poor by any means, but you were far from wealthy. That being said, your mother spent an outrageous amount to get you the most captivating black dress money could buy. It was not something that would draw too much attention, but enough so that you did not look like a grieving widow yourself. When it was your turn to pay your respects, you recalled bowing to the young prince, the brunette barely acknowledging anyone’s presence. It was rumored that he and his mother were close, that he’d taken her death very hard, and the way he seemed to stare right through you confirmed as much.

When you bowed to the king, apologizing for his loss, you could feel his eyes on you. This was nothing you concerned yourself with. After all, you were speaking to him and he you, but when you rose, you were taken aback by the intensity you found in his dark eyes. Where his son seemed to look through you, the king could not seem to take his eyes off of you. No one else seemed to notice, and, brushing it off, by the time you returned home, you had forgotten all about it.

Until a few days later when a royal guard was at your door. You were being invited to dine with the king, the invitation extending to your family as well, and although you were confused, you knew you could not refuse. Even if you wanted to. The dinner was nice, and you were a bit surprised at how easy it was to get along with the king. You never thought him cruel, but you’d heard that he was a rather stern man. After supper, he extended the invitation to staying at the castle so that you would not have to travel back so late in the evening. Your mother answered before you had the chance to, and it was no surprise to you that the answer was yes.

The castle was so different during the night. It seemed less welcoming and more ominous, and you found it hard to sleep that night. Convinced that the corridors would be empty, you quietly slipped from your chambers and made your way down to the kitchens. There were still a few servants lingering about, cleaning or preparing for the next day. You felt guilty for bothering them for something to drink.

“Nonsense, my lady. I would be more than happy to get that for you,” a younger girl by the name of Guinevere told you.

“Oh...please,” you waved her off. “No one is around. Call me Y/N.”

Her eyes seemed to sparkle as you told her your name, but she said nothing more as she gave you your water. The dark corridors did not scare you, but the eerie silence was a bit off putting, especially in such a grand structure. You had turned the corner to make your way back to your room when you bumped into none other than the prince. You had almost dropped the drink, and you placed your hand on your chest in an attempt to still your heart.

“Your highness. My apologies, I did not see…”

Your words died in your throat as the prince fixed you with a look that made your stomach churn. You snapped your mouth shut, swallowing as he simply glared at you, brown eyes looking so much darker. You had not seen him since the queen’s burial, and he did not look much better than he did then. Before you had a chance to say anything else, he had shoved past you, almost making you drop the goblet in your hand, and a low gasp escaped you as your other shoulder harshly met the wall. You turned to watch him go, shock and confusion pouring through you, wondering what you had done to offend him so.

It was only a few weeks later did you get your answer.

“I...I beg your pardon?”

The king reached for your hand, a soft breeze ruffling his dark hair as he brought it to his lips. They were soft as they brushed over your skin, and the corner of them curved upwards into a smile.

“Everything is already being arranged, but...this is my formal proposal. I need a queen, Peter needs a mother, and you are everything I could have hoped for,” he told you.

You stared at him in shock, feeling as if the world had been ripped out from beneath your feet. Your mind whirled as you tried to make sense of this and where this had come from, and suddenly, the puzzle started to piece together. The countless dinner invitations, the gleam in your parents’ eyes, the hushed conversations...the prince’s animosity. You were being courted by the king this whole time...and you’d been none the wiser. His chuckle pulled you from your thoughts.

“When your mother told me that you could be quite oblivious, I thought that it was a simple exaggeration.”

He found humor in your distress, you realized, and you swallowed.

“I do not know what to say,” you slowly breathed, and you watched him tilt his head at you, a frown beginning to form.

“You say yes,” he said with a scoffing laugh as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

You realized that to anyone else, it would be.

“Your majesty...I feel as if we’ve only just met. Surely, you would allow me time to think-.”

“Think about what?”

His hand tightened on yours, and you winced. He leaned in, genuine confusion in his dark eyes as he stared into your own.

“I am a king telling you that you are to be my queen...and you are hesitant?”

The severity of the situation suddenly dawned on you. Anthony was a king. You were a mere lady attempting to refuse his proposal for marriage, and your heart sank to your stomach. You blinked at him, and his face suddenly smoothed over as he sighed.

“Ah. I understand what this is about…”

“You do…?”

He softly smiled at you, reaching up to brush his thumb along your chin.

“You come from an acceptable background. You are beautiful and smart and kind. I assure you, this is genuine. This is not some poor attempt to cope with my grief. In all honesty, my marriage to the queen was over long before she died,” he told you.

You looked away, realizing that you were not getting out of this. Whether you liked it or not, you would be marrying the king, and with reluctance and a shaky voice, you accepted his proposal. He straightened when you did, a look of satisfaction on his features, and he looked as if he wanted to kiss you. You were thankful that he did not.

The wedding took place only a couple of months later, every nearby royal, and even some across the water, in attendance. It was a grand and beautiful affair, no expense spared, and it was days later that you found out it far outshined his first wedding. You remembered feeling sick as you walked down the aisle, the feeling only getting worse as your gaze met that of the prince.

In the time since the official engagement, you had interacted with the prince only a handful of times. Each time more disastrous than the last. You told yourself that he was grieving. His mother’s death was sudden and had hit him hard and here his father was, marrying again so soon. You did not fault him for his cold behavior. He was young, after all. You would expect nothing less, to be honest, but you could not lie and say that it did not hurt.

Unfortunately, even after the marriage, he did not soften towards you. Every attempt to get to know him was met with nothing short of loathing, and you finally accepted that he would come around in his own time. The last thing you wanted Peter to think was that you were trying to replace his mother. You did not know how long this would go on, but you did not expect it to be more than a year.

You were wrong.

“I throw that kid the best birthday celebration a nineteen year old could ask for and this is how he shows his appreciation? By not even having the decency to show up?”

Tony was angry as he sipped from his goblet, glaring down at the attendees dancing below. A wonderful number was being played by a string quartet, several single princesses in attendance, and an hour into the celebration, Peter was still absent. You placed your hand on your husband’s arm with a sigh.

“I am sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for it, Tony. He will show,” you tried to assure him.

His shoulders sagged as he slammed his drink down, and his eyes softened as he turned to you. He reached for you, and you flinched, but he paid it no mind as he brushed his finger along your cheek.

“You are far too nice to him...and he hardly deserves it,” he whispered.

“He’s your son,” you reminded him with a frown. “Do not talk about him like that.”

“He’s ungrateful,” he spat.

“He’s grieving,” you argued.

“It’s been a year,” Tony sneered. “How much time does he need?”

You sharply turned away, swallowing a sigh as anger flared within you. Sometimes Tony could be so insensitive, amongst other things, and it baffled you. Peter lost the only mother he ever knew, and Tony was treating it as if it was something minor. After a few more moments, you excused yourself under the guise of needing some air. In truth, you were determined to track down the prince.

It was not a hard task. He tended to frequent the same places when he called himself hiding. You found him deep within the grounds, lounging on a branch high up in the tree. It was getting late, the sun currently setting, and you held up the skirts of your dress as you trudged towards him. You knew that he heard you, and you resisted the urge to sigh as you stood below him. Your heart ached for him as you could not even begin to imagine what he was going through. After all, you still had both of your parents.

“Peter,” you eventually called.

He yet again pretended as if he had not heard you, a hurtful habit of his, and this time you did sigh.

“Peter, please come down. Your father is concerned about your whereabouts, and...and I am concerned about you. I-.”

“Why have you deluded yourself into thinking I care about how you feel?”

His tone was cold, venom coating every word, and your heart clenched. He rarely spoke to you, every time he did as cold as today, but this was different. You were unsure of what to say, and before you had the chance to remedy that, he was hopping down. It was a bit cool out, and his coat flared behind him as he strode towards you, face hard and nostrils flared.

“Why have you deluded yourself into thinking that I care about you at all?”

You reared back, staring at him with wide eyes. His words hurt, that you would not deny, and as much as you fought against it, you could feel a familiar burn behind your eyes. You swallowed, briefly glancing down as you took a step back.

“Peter-.”

“My mother was not even in the ground properly before you came sniffing around my father like a bitch in heat,” he sneered.

Your lips parted, wide eyes staring at him in shock at his words. You had never seen him look so hateful, borderline murderous, and you suddenly realized that this was about more than grief.

“P-Peter...that… That is not what happened-.”

“Isn’t it?” he wondered, taking another step towards you. “Do you think me stupid? Blind? You think I have never known of the way so many women prayed on my mother’s downfall?”

“I never-.”

“Do you think that I do not know that you all came to her funeral not as mourners, but as vultures? As desperate snakes trying to slip your way into my father’s bed so that you may take her place?”

“No! That is not what happened-!”

“You are no different from the rest!”

He was practically upon you now, glaring down his nose at you with so much disgust it finally made the tears spill over.

“I always knew that you were a desperate and conniving whore…”

You gasped, more tears falling at his insult. He raised one dark eyebrow at you.

“...but I never took you for a liar too.”

You were frozen as he looked you over one last time before breezing past you. You shook, unable to stop the tears, and you felt like you were going to be sick. You had no idea that Peter’s disdain was in fact not misplaced due to grief, but was instead as genuine as could be because he thought you to be something you were not. This knowledge made your heart hurt, and it turned out that you were not as adept at hiding your feelings as you thought.

“What troubles you so?” Tony wondered later that night, his hand on your shoulder as you sat at your vanity.

“Whatever do you mean?” you asked with a small smile.

His gaze met yours in the mirror, and the way his jaw clenched told you that he did not have much patience tonight. His fingers pressed into your skin, and you swallowed. You looked away, eyes blurring a bit as you recalled Peter’s cruel words.

“Peter hates me,” you confessed.

You heard Tony heave a sigh, and you turned to look up at him. He ran his hand through his hair as he rolled his eyes.

“That kid hates everyone and everything,” he replied.

“No, Tony. You do not understand. He believes me to be something I am not. He thinks that I schemed my way into marrying you, that I am trying to replace his mother-.”

“Peter will be just fine. He will grow to get over it in time,” was his enlightening reply, and you stood.

“But it is not true. Tony, does this not bother you? Because it bothers me! He should be like a son to me. He should be looking to me for guidance and care, and he curses the very ground I walk on. It hurts,” you spat, wrapping your arms around yourself.

Tony’s entire demeanor softened, and he pulled you into his arms. He pressed his lips to your cheek, and you winced at the soreness before he took your chin in between his fingers. He tilted his head at you.

“I love that you’ve grown to really care about him. It warms my cold heart…”

You forced a chuckle at that.

“...but Peter has always been a bit difficult when it comes to me and anything in relation to me. His mother is really the only person he ever really connected with. This will pass, I assure you.”

You reluctantly accepted that Tony just did not care about this as much as you did, and likely never would. Against your better judgement, you opted to let it go, and softly exhaled when Tony pressed his lips to your jaw. He trailed kisses down your neck, tightening his arms around you.

“As much as I enjoy your big heart, I would rather not spend the rest of the night discussing my troubled son,” he murmured, lips finally finding yours.

You did not know if you would ever grow used to making love to Tony. The only time he had ever been anything close to gentle was on your wedding night, and you had still cried, waking up sore and bruised. It eventually dawned on you that this was simply how Tony was, but it did not mean that you had to like it.

The years that passed did not improve things as you’d hoped they would. Tony was still the same as ever, and Peter was no different. Your conversations with the prince were rare, but every one was brief and left you with a paralyzing chill. When he was not speaking to you, his animosity was enough to force you to keep your distance. The hurt that his behavior caused never got any easier.

“When you have a child of your own, this will mean nothing to you,” Tony would assure you.

However, it only did the opposite. Even though Peter was not your own, it did not mean that you viewed him any less, and you knew that would not change when you finally did have a child. Whenever that happened. You and Tony had been trying for years, and there was still nothing to show for it. It was a great source of stress for you both, but Tony was taking it much harder than you.

“They say that it took many tries before they were finally able to have Peter, and even afterwards...the queen was never able to conceive again,” Guinevere had whispered to you one night.

“Oh,” you sadly said. “How awful…”

The blonde girl had glanced around the busy kitchen before leaning in.

“The king will never admit it, but many believe that he was the problem, and considering he is experiencing the same thing with you…”

Your heart sank as she trailed off, and despite everything, you found yourself feeling sorry for your husband. Many would argue that you should feel sorry for yourself. After all, it was a popular opinion that the woman’s womb was always at fault, and kings have gotten rid of their wives for less, but you knew that Tony was far too possessive of you to ever do such a thing.

It was a subject you wished you could talk to Peter about. He knew his father far better than you did, and sometimes you wished you could get some insight on how to make this better for him, but Peter was disgusted by your very presence. There came a time when you reluctantly accepted that it might always be this way, but everything changed when Peter was only a few weeks shy of his twenty-third birthday.

Tony, ever the showoff, was having a ball every week for five weeks straight leading up to the night. It was the second gathering when he had dragged you out of the great hall. His hold had been tight, steps hurried, and you forced yourself to swallow down the pain. The corridor was dimly lit and equally as empty, and tears of frustration were kissing your eyes.

“Tony-.”

“I saw you,” he spat.

“Saw me what? Saw me greet one of your friends? Because that is exactly what King Steven is to me and nothing more!”

His dark eyes were hard as he pressed his fingers into your arms, lip curled over his teeth as he sneered at you.

“He desires you. It is plain as day, and he has never been subtle,” he bit out.

“Somehow I am at fault for that? Steven is a bachelor in every sense of the word. That is how he is, and you know it-.”

“Yes, but I thought to myself, surely my loving wife would have the sense not to entertain his antics!”

“I was being polite,” you told him, wincing at his tight grip. “Just because you are only ever nice to people when you want something-.”

You swallowed your words with a sharp shriek, pressing your hand to your hot cheek as the tears finally spilled over. Your eyes were on the floor as Tony shook you, a scathing remark on his tongue, no doubt, when he suddenly stilled, swallowing whatever he was about to say. His sudden change confused you, and you hesitantly looked up only to realize that his gaze was not on you. You turned to find Peter standing just at the entrance of the corridor, his wide eyes on the two of you.

Tony was quick in straightening you up, and you hurriedly looked away as he acknowledged Peter.

“Why are you not enjoying your celebration with your friends?”

It was a while before Peter responded.

“I noticed that you had slipped out, so I came to find you. I had hoped to continue our...conversation from earlier,” the prince answered.

When you turned back around, you avoided Peter’s eye, but you could still feel the weight of his gaze. Tony’s hand was rubbing into your back as he responded.

“Of course. Sweetheart, you will excuse us, won’t you? Peter and I have much to discuss, and I am sure the other wives are missing your presence,” he said, turning to you.

He threw you a tense and threatening smile, and you shakily returned it with a forced one.

“Of course. I shall see you in there when you return. Peter,” you acknowledged as you hurried past him, avoiding his gaze still.

You did not return to the hall though, but instead made your way down to the kitchen. It was filled with servants, and Mary Jane gasped when she saw you. She and Guinevere were always joined at the hip, but the other girl had been ill for the last few days. The redhead dropped what she was doing, shooing another servant off of a stool before grabbing your arm.

“My God,” she breathed.

The other occupants tended to the food and drinks, much too used to seeing you down here twice a week or so. Mary Jane pressed a cold piece of steak to your face, and you hissed.

“Is it that bad?”

“It is swelling already, your majesty,” she said.

You shifted on the seat, holding the cold meat to your face as you shooed her off.

“I hardly notice how hard he hits anymore. It still manages to shock me every time though, and I have no idea as to why,” you whispered.

She was just about to reply when another voice rang throughout the kitchen.

“Everyone out.”

You turned with wide eyes, confusion tearing through you at the sight of Peter just at the bottom of the stairs. Everyone seemed to hesitate for a moment, worrying about the food, no doubt, before eventually heeding his order. Mary Jane, no stranger to your relationship with the prince, threw you a worrying look before being the last one out. Peter seemed to hesitate as well before huffing, quickly approaching you.

You moved to stop him, but he was already pulling the red meat from your cheek before you had the chance. He stared at your skin for a while before putting it back in place. You held it there as he leaned against the counter, a familiar look of anger on his boyish features.

“This is not the first time this has happened,” he murmured.

There was no need to respond. It was a statement, not an answer. The silence was heavy, thick with tension and filled with words unspoken. Outside of that night, this was the longest you had ever been alone with Peter, and the first time you did not feel uncomfortable in his presence.

“You did not want to marry my father...did you?”

You looked at him with wide eyes, lips parting to refute such a blasphemous statement, but no words came out. Words failed you. Peter was a smart young man, always had been, and you were sure that he would see through whatever lie you pieced together.

“Of course, it was not like you could refuse if you wanted to. He is a king, and you were a mere lady,” he said more to himself than you.

You sighed, putting the steak down as you stood.

“My father has never been kind to anyone in his life. I do not know why I thought you were an exception…”

“Peter… I do not want this to affect how you view your father, do you understand?”

He simply frowned at you, and you continued.

“He is not without his flaws, this is true,” you slowly said. “...but he is still your father. In his own way, he loves you and only wants what is best.”

Peter stared at you for a while before scoffing, a humorless laugh not far behind. He pressed his hand to the counter as he stared at you with a look of shock.

“My father does not deserve you,” he said, almost as if he could not believe it.

He chuckled again, pressing his hand to his forehead.

“All this time, I thought that the two of you deserved each other. I hated you...and now...now I just feel sorry for you. For both my father...and me…,” he quietly finished.

“Peter-.”

“I have been nothing but cruel to you, and for that I am sorry. I am sorry for the things that I have done...and the things that I have said.”

You blinked, convinced that you would never hear those words. They warmed your heart, and you looked away.

“It’s alright. You believed what you believed, and if I were in your shoes, I might have believed the same. Your feelings were valid, Peter,” you told him.

He blinked at you.

“I never wanted to replace your mother. That is still not what I desire...but I am here. I know that there is only a decade between us, but I have come to love you like a son despite everything.”

Peter’s eyes softened, and you could see the guilt there.

“I never wanted to rush you, even now, but I hope that you will view me the same one day. Tony is no longer your only parent, and I am always here.”

Peter looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he held off.

“I should get back before your father comes looking for me,” you said, heading for the stairs. “Oh...and please refrain from provoking him.”

You looked to Peter.

“I may dislike him at times, but I do not want to send him to an early grave.”

Peter simply hummed, sending you a strained smile before you left him to find your husband.

You remained in the corridor as the angry voices bled through the door. Both Tony and Peter assured you countless times that their strained relationship was none of your concern, but it could not be helped. They had never had the best relationship, but if possible, it had soured even more over the years, and you were unsure of who to blame.

The minute Tony started to get more serious about grooming Peter for the throne, things had gone from tense and strained to borderline violent at times. Not only did the two have such opposing views when it came to how to run the kingdom, but your husband had been pushing the idea of marriage more and more lately. It had only gotten worse when Peter neared his twenty-fifth birthday, the party on that fateful day ending abruptly when Peter had stormed out.

You were pulled from your reverie when the door swung open. Peter was the first one out, and he held up a hand as you moved to approach him.

“Not now, Y/N,” he huffed, quickly striding down the corridor with a frustrated sigh.

Tony emerged not long after, and you moved to kiss him, knowing that it would soothe him for the time being.

“That boy will be the death of me,” he complained.

“You both provoke each other, and I do not know why,” you told him.

“He has duties! He is twenty-five and nowhere near taking them seriously. It seems that he is determined to ruin me,” he spat.

You sighed.

“Would you like for me to talk to him?”

“You seem to be the only one he actually listens to, so by all means,” he gestured down the hall, face cloudy.

You patted his chest before leaving him, wondering if a day would come where you would be a functional family. You and Peter were nowhere near what you used to be, and for that you were eternally grateful, but his relationship with Tony was far worse than it had ever been, and you did not know how to even begin to fix it.

You found Peter sparring with his dueling instructor. The sound of clashing swords was loud, and you rounded the corner, wincing when Peter just narrowly missed a rather dangerous blow. He motioned for the other gentleman to stop once he spotted you.

“Come on his behalf, have you?”

“Peter,” you sighed.

He snapped at the other man.

“Give your queen a sword, will you? Come,” he was talking to you now. “Spar with me.”

You reluctantly accepted the other man’s sword, a grimace on your face as you stepped forward.

“I am a horrible dueling partner,” you complained.

“Nonsense, Y/N. You are far better than what you were a year ago,” Peter said with a chuckle.

Your heart sank a bit at the sound of your name, but it did not distract you from blocking the swing of his sword with your own. Peter smirked at you.

“See?”

“Peter, this is not why I am here,” you told him.

“Of course not,” he calmly said. “My father knows that between the two of you, you are the only one I actually respect. He believes that you have some sway over me...and I am not reluctant to admit that he is right.”

He blocked your blow, quick to do so again when you swung your sword down towards his legs. He eyed you, a bit of pride in his gaze.

“Very good,” he praised.

“I was hoping to talk you into agreeing to some sort of compromise with him. Any compromise, really.”

Peter let out a humorless laugh, spinning before bringing his sword down over his head. Your eyes were wide as you lifted your sword, the sound of them clashing meeting your ears.

“There is no compromising with that man. He is determined to bring this kingdom and all of its subjects to ruin, and he wishes for me to just stand back and watch. He does not hear a word I say,” he spat.

He swiped his sword at you, several times and in several different successions. Unable to keep up, you were not surprised when your sword was knocked from your hands. You did not flinch when the tip of his blade found your throat, confident that Peter would never hurt you. He pressed the tip further, eyes locked on yours, and you swallowed.

“Do you agree with him?”

“Of course not,” you honestly answered.

Peter lightly dragged his blade down your neck and towards the top of your dress, his eyes following its movement before he quickly snatched it away. He tilted his head at you, raising an eyebrow as he waited for you to continue.

“You know I do not agree with how your father runs this kingdom, but I have no say. I never did. Believe it or not, Peter, you have much more influence than I do.”

He turned away with a disbelieving laugh.

“Somehow, I doubt that…”

“Look, I am going to say something that I know you are not going to like,” you suddenly said.

Peter did not respond, so you continued.

“I think that you should consider marriage.”

You saw him straighten at that, back tense, and you rushed to say something else.

“If Tony feels that you are taking your future seriously, then he will be more inclined to take you seriously.”

He turned to you with a withering look, and you rolled your eyes.

“Do not look at me that way. I am not saying that you have to marry some poor girl right away, but at least make an effort to look around, and show Tony that you are attempting to meet him halfway,” you advised.

Peter gave you a hard stare for the longest time before eventually rolling his eyes and looking away.

“Very well. You always do get your way, don’t you, Y/N?”

Your mouth parted for a moment before you snapped it shut, looking down. This did not go unnoticed by Peter, and he neared you.

“What is it, now?”

Your eyes met his, and you tried to hide your hurt, but it must have been clear as day. Peter’s entire demeanor softened, and he stuck his sword in the dirt, reaching for you.

“What is it?”

You exhaled.

“That...is another thing I had hoped to discuss with you.”

He frowned in confusion.

“You still refer to me by my name…” you watched as his face fell. “And I do not wish to rush you, I never have, but when you say my name...it makes me feel as if I am doing something wrong here.”

“You are not,” he rushed to assure you. “Believe me…”

“I do not want to replace your mother, but if I am doing something-.”

“It is merely a force of habit. That is all,” he interrupted.

“You are sure…?”

“Positive,” he said with a small smile.

“...okay,” you said with a nod. “...and what will you be doing after this...?”

“I will be speaking with my father,” he reluctantly told you.

“Good,” you said, Peter bending to allow you to quickly peck his forehead. “...and please be polite. I hate the way you two provoke each other.”

He roughly exhaled.

“Yes...mother…,” he seemed to bite out, eyes on you.

You looked to him with wide eyes, heart swelling as your smile grew. You chuckled, kissing his forehead one last time before leaving him to finish his instruction.

Contrary to what you had hoped, your advice did not improve things. Now that Peter had agreed to at least looking for a wife, it just gave him and Tony one more thing to disagree on, and disagreements about the smallest of things only gave room for disagreements about more serious matters. Peter hated the way Tony ran the kingdom, and you could not fault him for that.

Meals were more tense than ever, and it soon became suffocating to be in the same room as father and son. You did your best to keep the peace between them but there was only so much you could do. Especially when the arguments would get so intense that you feared for them. Tony could get so angry, and while you had never known him to put his hands on Peter as he did you, it still worried you that he might one day. And Peter…

Sometimes Peter would get a look in his eye that chilled you to the bone. He would get so fed up with his father, lips pressed together as Tony tore into him, and you would see the younger man’s eyes flash with something you could not name. It was a look that terrified you and made him look like someone that was not Peter, at all.

Tensions only mounted as your birthday neared. You did not want either of them involved in the party planning process, convinced this would be the final nail in the coffin. Truth be told, it was also for yourself as well. It allowed you to breathe better.

“The party is tomorrow night, and Peter has yet to have the last fitting for his attire,” you told Mary Jane as you stood.

“I can finish this up, your majesty, while you go find Peter,” she replied.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely! I am almost finished, anyway.”

“Wonderful! I shall return shortly. There are only so many places he could be at this hour…”

The corridors were scarcely occupied as you decided to check Peter’s chambers first, making your way to his wing of the castle. You were unsurprised to find them empty, and you quickly made your way outside. He had a habit of frequenting the grounds, the maze especially, and you were confident that you would find him there then.

You had not been inside the maze for a while, but you remembered how to navigate it vividly. You were deep within it, somewhere in the middle perfectly between the beginning and the end when you stumbled upon a sight you were not prepared for.

At the other end of a long stretch, were a couple, far too wrapped up in each other to notice your presence. You felt your face heat up as you stumbled upon the lovers, and you were prepared to turn back when the young man lifted his head, familiar eyes meeting yours. A gasp escaped you, and you were frozen on the spot as Peter simply stared at you.

He did not break his gaze as he continued to thrust into the woman beneath him, who you absentmindedly recognized as Guinevere. Her eyes were closed, clinging to Peter as moans tumbled from her lips, and even though Peter was silent as he stared at you, the heat in his eyes was undeniable. Finally coming to your senses, you willed your feet to move, but you did not escape in time to miss the way Peter’s deep moan rang throughout the air.

Upon your return, you told Mary Jane that you were unable to find Peter. You did not want to think of the awkward encounter, and told yourself that the tailor had never been wrong before. You were positive that Peter’s attire would fit. You did not see the young man again until the following day, your birthday, and it was only an hour or so until your party. Tony was meeting with a few of his Lords when there was a knock on your chamber door.

You were quick to answer it, surprised to find Peter on the other side. You only felt uncomfortable for a moment before you took in his attire. You beamed, widening the door to allow him in.

“Oh, Peter, you look positively dashing!”

“Did you doubt that I would?” he smugly wondered.

You threw him a look.

“I swear, you are getting more and more like your father every day,” you told him with a chuckle.

“I got you something,” he suddenly said, and it was only then did you notice the box in his hand.

You blinked in surprise, eyes widening when he opened it to reveal the most beautiful necklace you had ever seen. The ruby heart in the middle was positively blinding, standing out against the rest of the diamonds that made up the band. You pressed your hand to your chest, mouth parting.

“Happy Birthday.”

“Oh my… Peter, this is so sweet of you,” you told him.

“Well,” he started, setting the box aside as he took the piece of jewelry into his hands. “It is not every day that one turns thirty-six.”

He motioned for you to spin around, and you obliged.

“This might also double as an apology for yesterday. I regret that you had to see that,” he chuckled.

You joined him, waving him off.

“Nonsense, Peter. It was a bit of a shock, but nothing more. You are a young man, after all, and I could never fault you for doing what young men do. You are treating Guinevere well, I hope? She is a sweet girl.”

Peter groaned.

“Yes, Y/N.”

Your heart sank at the sound of your name, and you frowned a bit.

“I am treating her just fine,” he assured you.

You chose not to comment on his use of your name, wondering if you had done something wrong.

“Would you ever consider marrying her?” you pushed.

Peter was quiet as he brought his hands over to lower the necklace at your neck. It was not one that rested at your décolletage, but at your throat instead, and your eyes widened a bit when he pulled it back. You reached up to your neck, forced to stumble back into his chest to keep from choking, relaxing a bit when he finally clasped it together.

“No,” was his simple answer. “It is not like that.”

He rested his hands on your shoulder, turning you around to admire you. His dark eyes took you in before finally focusing on the necklace, the corner of his lips lifting a bit. He pressed his finger to the ruby heart, drawing patterns over it before eventually stepping away.

“It looks great,” he told you.

“Thank you. We should track down your father before they start my own celebration without me,” you replied.

It was not long after that the three of you were entering the great hall, a smile on your face as everyone greeted you. Tony and Peter were at your sides, and both of their hands rested at the small of your back as they guided you to the royal table at the head of the room. Everyone only quieted down when you took your seats, and you looked down at the familiar faces with a smile.

Your attention was drawn to Peter as he stood, raising his glass as a servant came by to fill them. He only filled yours and Peters, but another quickly came to fill Tony’s. Once everyone’s glasses were filled, that was when Peter spoke.

“I would like to propose a toast…”

He turned to look down at you, dark eyes unreadable as he swallowed.

“...to the woman who loved me even when I did not deserve it.”

Your heart swelled as you smiled at Peter, so happy that you two had come this far.

“No one could ever replace my mother...and I would not want them to, but you, Y/N, you are the next best thing.”

Your eyes softened, realizing that while maybe Peter did not see you as something akin to a mother just yet, he still loved you, and that gave you hope. You could live with that for now. Peter’s eyes fell onto his father, and he suddenly smiled.

“...and to my father, the king. If it were not for you, Y/N would never have come into our lives.”

His voice was even, but his eyes glinted before he turned to the rest of the royal court, his glass held high.

“To the king and queen. Long may they reign,” his voice traveled over the room.

Everyone else repeated his words before taking a drink, you and Tony following suit. As you set your glass down, you watched, a bit concerned, as Peter swallowed all of his wine, a look of satisfaction on his face as he lowered his glass. You turned to Tony, prepared to ask him if he wished to say anything, just as he let out that first cough.

It sounded nasty, and you frowned, prepared to ask him if he drank too fast when he coughed again, blood staining his bottom lip. Your heart fell to your stomach, eyes widening as you reached for him, hands trembling. You were prepared to call for help when you noted the sound of several coughs reaching your ears, followed by screams.

When you turned towards the rest of the room, you saw every single one of the royal court coughing up blood, and you stood on unsteady legs as understanding dawned on you. You reached for Peter, your hand gripping his arm as fear and horror clung to you.

“P-Peter…”

You looked to him, but his face was stony as he looked down at everyone. The only people who were okay were you, Peter, the servants, and the few guards. You watched as Peter waved his hand, confusion filling you as two guards opened the door to let more in. You were frozen as they all drew their swords, stomach churning as you realized what was about to happen. You turned back to Peter, but he was already moving past you.

“Peter, what- what is happening? What are you doing?”

You lunged for him as he drew a dagger, hand fisted into his fathers hair to pull the struggling man’s head back.

“Peter, no!”

He shoved you away, right into the arms of a waiting guard, and you did not turn your head in time to miss the way he dragged the blade across his father’s neck. A scream left you, belonging to a voice that you did not recognize, and you continued to scream and cry as the guard backed up. Peter pointed at you, his father’s blood coating his hand, his face unrecognizable to you.

“Get her out of here…”

His eyes met yours, dark with a harmful intent that terrified you. Who was this man? He ran his eyes over you.

“...and do not let her get away.”

You fought against the guard as he dragged you away, kicking and screaming all the way. Your efforts did not even cease as you made it into the corridor, having been forced past the dead bodies of your friends and acquaintances. The guard towered over you and was easily double your size, so all of your efforts were useless.

He only let you go when you reached Peter’s chambers, dragging you through the receiving chamber to toss you onto the floor of his bedchamber. The impact made your head spin, and by the time you pushed yourself to your feet, he was already pulling the door shut. You slammed your hands against it just as you heard it lock, and another sob threatened to escape you.

You had only ever been in Peter’s room a handful of times, and you wrapped your arms around yourself as you looked around. Your chest hurt, heart breaking as you recalled the way Peter had so callously taken his father’s life. Your husband was dead, and it was no secret that the man was far from perfect, but his absence scared you. What would become of you now? Why did Peter not poison you like the rest? God, had his feelings never changed, at all? Had he still secretly hated you this whole time and wanted to get some sick satisfaction out of killing you here?

You lost count of how many times you tried the door before moving to the balcony doors. They too did not budge, and you kicked them in frustration. You could barely form a coherent thought, and more tears spilled over as you realized just how alone you were. You did not understand anything. Why would Peter do this?

As you heard someone enter his receiving chamber, it occurred to you that you might get your answer.

Your eyes met Peter’s as he entered his chambers, and you stumbled back, afraid to take your eyes off of him. You watched as he locked the door behind him, and the sight of that made your face crumble.

“What have you done?” you shakily asked.

The room was quiet save for your soft sobs, and you flinched when Peter took a step forward. He did not look like the young man you knew. He stood there in the dark attire he had picked out for your birthday, looking every bit like the murderous man you now knew him to be. A dark strand of hair kissed his forehead, jaw clenched as he eyed you. It started to lightly rain outside, and your eyes fell to the blood on his hands.

His father’s blood.

“Have you come to kill me too?”

Finally, his face shifted, and he frowned at you.

“Kill you?”

Peter scoffed, laughing to himself as he tilted his head at you.

“You could not be farther from the truth…”

“Then what do you plan to do? What are you doing, Peter? I do not understand…”

“My father was going to run this kingdom into the ground. We both know it…”

You started shaking your head before he was even done.

“Something had to be done.”

“Not like this! You killed him- you killed everyone,” you cried.

“...and here I thought you would be thanking me,” he sneered.

“Thanking you?”

“Unless I was wrong, and you enjoy being slapped around,” he threw at you.

You felt as if you were just slapped then, and you pressed your back into the wall, tightening your arms around yourself.

“Not like this, Peter. Not like this,” you tearfully murmured.

The rain got louder, filling the otherwise silent room with some noise, and you flinched when lightning flashed, shedding light on the room and on Peter’s dark gaze.

“What will become of me? Did you ever think about that? I am the widow of a murdered king. A king murdered by his own son in a coup!”

“...and the future wife of the next one,” Peter calmly stated.

You froze, his words failing to make sense despite the fact that you heard him just fine. Something about them did not sound right, and your lips parted, a shaky breath escaping you.

“What...what did you just say?” you hesitantly questioned.

Peter took another step towards you, and you slid along the wall...away from him.

“Do you have any idea how much it pained me to watch you with him?”

“Peter…”

You shook your head, still moving away as he moved closer.

“Do know what it was like to watch him mistreat you again and again only to turn around and reap the spoils of his marriage as if he had not just caused you harm only moments before?”

His voice was low, thick with something you were too disgusted to name. Your eyes were wide, filled with tears as the reality of the situation dawned on you. Peter’s feelings, his father’s murder...the two of you alone in a castle full of people that have proven their loyalty to him. Peter was only eighteen when you married the king, standing face to face with you, but now, eight years later, the young man towered over you.

He suddenly chuckled, and the sound terrified you more than anything now.

“I find it funny… My father was always telling me that royals take. We take what is ours. We take what we believe we should have. That is what we do, son,” he mocked. “We take.”

His cold eyes bore into yours as you stumbled away from him. In a circle the two of you went, and you pulled on the handle of the door as you pressed your back to it. Fresh tears spilled as it refused to budge.

“Now look. I have taken his life, I have taken his kingdom, and I have taken the woman he thought belonged to him-.”

He swallowed the rest of his words as you suddenly dived to the other side of the room. Peter followed, and you reached up to pull the portrait from the wall, tossing it at him only for Peter to evade it. You frantically crawled across the bed, kicking Peter in the chest as he reached for your ankle. You fell to your knees on the other side, running to the balcony doors with tears in your eyes.

Again, the doors would not budge, and you were prepared to throw yourself through the glass when Peter was suddenly there at your back. He enclosed you in his arms, and you reached back to fight against him and push him away, but he only pinned you between him and the glass. The sound of the thunder drowned out your screams, and you yelped in shock when he fisted a hand in your hair, yanking your head to the side.

Peter was determined to taste you, tongue and teeth brushing your skin as he ground himself against you. Nothing you did seemed to deter him, and it suddenly felt hard to breathe. The storm raged outside, wind pushing rain against the window. One of Peter’s hands dragged up your leg, pushing the skirts of your dress with it, and you slammed your hands against the window, attempting to push back.

This only egged him on, and he moaned in your ear.

“Peter, please,” you begged

You could feel the air against you, and your efforts to get away only increased when you felt him moving to release himself. The hand in your hair moved to your neck, cutting off your airway as he pulled your head back to rest against him. You struggled to breathe, nails scraping against the glass. He leaned down to cover your lips with his own, kissing you for the first time, and you sharply inhaled.

He moaned at the taste of you, his tongue meeting yours, tasting the wine that you wish had killed you too. You both struggled against the window, your hands turning into fists when he pushed his leg between yours, quickly followed by the other. You turned your head away, your small victory overshadowed by your ultimate defeat as he thrust into you. You yelped just as Peter shuddered against your back, a long sigh escaping him as he pressed a hand into the glass beside your head.

He pressed his face into your hair, grinding against you, the sound of him breathing you in reaching your ears. Your own forehead was pressed to the glass now, tearful eyes taking in the storm as Peter dragged his cock in and out of your unwilling core. Your body shook from both your sobs and his ministrations, and again, you pushed against the glass in hopes to push him away.

He merely shoved his chest into your back, forcing you back against the glass before wrapping his arms around you again. One hand pulled at the neckline of your dress, ripping it straight down, and your lashes fluttered when he slipped his hand beneath the fabric to roll his fingers over you. His other arm came across your middle, pinning your own at your sides.

“You are finally mine,” he breathed after a while.

You shook your head in denial, another lightning strike bathing the room in a glow. It was gone as quickly as it came, and you were forced to focus on Peter’s reflection in the window. He was lost in the euphoria of you, the feel of you wrapped around him, sucking him back in again and again.

“Finally,” he groaned. “At my side and in my bed as my queen…”

His hand slipped from beneath the torn fabric of your dress, dancing along your skin before his fingers brushed over the diamond choker at your neck.

“I have all night to claim you as mine, and no one is around to stop me.”

“Peter, this is not you-.”

“Oh, but it is,” he sighed. “This is the man you loved when he did not deserve it. This is the man you will marry, bear children with…’

You let out a choked sob, fresh tears falling at his words.

“Oh, please. Everyone knew that my father was the problem. He was the only one in denial about it, and I have a feeling that by the time I am done with you, you shall be with child by tomorrow.”

“Peter, please,” you screamed.

His hand tightened on your throat, pulling your head back so you were forced to stare at the ceiling, back arched to take his slow and purposeful thrusts. He kissed the corner of your eye before doing the same to your cheek. His breathing was choppy, heart pounding in his chest, and the way his hips stuttered told you that he was close.

“Oh God,” he moaned, stilling against your back as he spilled himself into you.

You froze against him at the feel, realizing that there was no turning back. You shook in his hold, feeling the urge to be sick when he suddenly pulled out of you, replacing his cock with his fingers. You gasped, reaching down to grab his wrist as he shoved a second finger inside of you, the wet sound of it reaching your ears even with the rain outside. He pressed you to his chest as he curled his fingers into you.

You bucked your hips, ashamed with your actions as he pulled pleasure from you like it was nothing. LIke he somehow knew your body better than you did. His lips were at your ear, brushing against your skin before he trailed them to your neck again, pressing kisses there. Your nails dug into his wrist, but he paid your efforts no mind as he thrust his fingers into you, setting a pace that had your legs shaking. You knew that if it were not for his hold, you would have collapsed already.

Peter hummed when your breath hitched.

“You are close...aren’t you?”

“Peter...stop,” you shakily begged.

“I shall stop when I feel your arousal dripping down my hand,” he purred.

His words had you clenching around him, and he moaned against your neck.

“I suppose I cannot blame my father for being so possessive of you. Your walls feel like heaven…”

“Peter…”

“I do not know how I will ever allow you to leave our bed-.”

“Peter-.”

“I guess I shall just have to keep you tired…”

“Please-!”

“Come for me, Y/N. Fall apart for your king,” he whispered.

And you did. You seized in his arms, walls clenching around him, your arousal coating his fingers and dripping down his hand. Your nails drew blood, but he only moaned with you, cursing as you rode yourself on his fingers, your other hand reaching back to twist into his shirt. That was the hardest you ever came, and shame filled you. As you came down from your high, Peter lowered the both of you to the floor.

It was only then did you notice the bloody handprints on the glass. The same blood on you, no doubt. More tears sprung forth as it all seemed to hit you, and Peter forced your head onto his shoulder as he shushed you. You obliged, and he leaned down to press his lips to your forehead, rocking you as you sobbed in his tightening arms.

tags: @xoxabs88xox @harryspet @readermia @opheliadawnwalker3 @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @hyoyeoniie @cocoamoonmalfoy @mandiiblanche @gotnofucks @oneoftheprettynerds @doozywoozy @mcudarklibrary @melli0112 @buckybarnesplumwhore @dramaholic18

#dark peter parker #dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #ROYAL AU #prince peter parker #dark fic

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katmoonz · 3 years

Text

Depression

Pairing: Wolfstar x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3034

Includes: TW suicidal thoughts, depression, mentions of missing meals, crying, fluff, hugs, angst to fluff, comfort

Do not post any of my work anywhere else!!! I’m fine with reblogs but not with people stealing my work.

Notes: I have depression, this fic is kinda based off of my experience with depression. I wanted more than anything for someone to notice how badly I was struggling and I was in desperate need of a hug. I can’t change the past but I can write down my thoughts, feelings and what I needed at the time.

Thank you @quindolyn for helping me to fix a couple bits and for helping me decide on the ending xx

Depression is completely unpredictable. You might feel on top of the world one minute and suddenly feel miserable the next. You smile around your friends and family hoping that they don’t notice that anything is wrong but deep down you just want someone to notice, to care, to ask you how you are or just hold you while you cry it all out. You want to die yet you can’t bring yourself to do the actions that would end it all because that scares you even more than living.

Lately, you had been feeling very happy. Remus and Sirius were wonderful boyfriends and would do everything they could to make you laugh or smile. Your favourite moments with Remus are the ones where he decides to cuddle with you, there is nothing more relaxing than just resting your head on his chest and listening to the thump of his heart and his steady breaths.

The best moments with Sirius are when he tries to make up his own jokes, most of the jokes he tries to tell aren’t even funny but that somehow makes it funnier when he tells you a bad one-liner whilst in detention. The sweetest thing about Sirius is that when you least expect it he curls up on the bed and sleeps next to you as Padfoot. It’s the sweetest thing ever waking up in Remus’ arms to Padfoot lying across your chest, Remus just watches over the pair of you with a smile upon his face at seeing his two lovers sleeping so peacefully.

This morning you had woken up and felt like crap, you couldn't quite place it so you skipped breakfast and had a lie-in instead. This caused you to miss your first lesson and most of lunch. You managed to go to your next lesson though which was Charms with your boyfriend Remus.

At first, you tried to concentrate but you felt like a cloud had settled itself over your head causing you to struggle with your work.

You’d been feeling better for a while now but for some reason today had just left you feeling miserable. For the rest of class, you sat with your head in your hand gazing out the window.

Remus could tell that you weren’t paying attention to the class and was starting to grow concerned. “y/n, you okay?” He whispers in your ear.

Not wanting to draw any attention to yourself or bother him, you just nod and force a smile in the hopes that you could pretend that everything was fine.

The bell rang a few minutes later signalling the end of the class period. You had History of Magic next, Remus wasn’t in that class with you but Sirius was. Remus walked you to your next class observing your behaviour.

You weren’t smiling and didn’t speak at all on the way there simply looking at the ground. Remus stopped with you at the classroom door and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek. “Are you sure you’re alright love? You know you can talk to me if something is wrong.”

Looking up at him you sigh. “I’m fine,” you say quietly before turning around and walking into the classroom.

Remus was growing very concerned with your behaviour, something was clearly wrong but you weren’t telling him.

Just then Sirius walks down the corridor. “Moony, decided to switch classes have you?” He jokes.

Not wanting anyone to overhear the conversation Remus grabs his arm and pulls him over to an empty classroom shoving him in the door.

“I need a favour,” said Remus in a serious tone.

“What Moons?” replies Sirius, confused at the sudden change in Remus’ behaviour.

“I need you to watch y/n for me and make sure she’s alright. Something is wrong and I want to help her but she won’t tell me anything.” blurts Remus.

Sirius pats him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry Remus, I’ll keep an eye on her.” Sirius leaves the empty room and proceeds to walk into the History of Magic classroom.

Sirius seats himself beside you but you don’t notice at first because you are spaced out not paying any attention to the lecture being given by Binns.

You felt like crap to put it simply. You wanted to focus on your classes so badly but your brain was just telling you no.

Your brain is running at a hundred miles an hour making you feel even worse. *I’m going to fail all of my classes. Why am I so useless? Do the boys love me or do they just tolerate me? Nobody loves me, not really. I wish I was dead, why can’t I just die?*

You feel slow tears make their way down your face. You sniffle softly not wanting to bother anyone.

Sirius quickly notices your tears as you sniffle next to him. *Moony is right* thought Sirius *something is very wrong.*

Sirius reaches a hand out to yours underneath the desk and gives it a gentle squeeze as a reminder that he is there for you.

Finally, you have enough of your self-deprecating thoughts and abruptly stand up, grab your things and leave despite only having twenty minutes of class left. Sirius gets up and follows you, grabbing your hand as you leave the room.

The pair of you walk silently through the castle until you get back to the Gryffindor common room. Sirius seats you at the couch in front of the fire before grabbing your bag and chucking it aside.

Sirius sits down next to you as you stare into the ornate fireplace with tears still slowly rolling down your face. “Y/n love, what’s wrong?” He softly asks.

Instead of answering him, you rest your head on his shoulder. Sirius brings his arms around you to pull you into a hug. The pair of you sit like that for a while, listening to the crackle of the fire and your sorrowful sniffles. Sirius simply holds you whilst tears slowly roll down your face.

“I'm sorry, I’m just tired. I think I’m gonna go have a nap” you say softly.

“Alright doll, I’ll see you at dinner then?” He asks.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you tell him knowing full well that you wouldn’t be in the mood to eat.

Leaving Sirius in the common room you walk up to the boys dorm and throw yourself down on Remus' bed. Grabbing a discarded sweater from Sirius’ bed on the way. You curl up in a ball under the covers on Remus’ bed before letting the tears fall down your face again *why can’t I just feel happy for once in my life? I always fuck everything up, I want to die*

Sirius watches you walk up the stairs to the boys dorm before letting out a sigh and putting his head in his hands. You had never been like this, you were usually so bright and cheerful something bad must have happened because Sirius hadn’t seen even the slightest smile all day.

The bell for the next lesson rings and Sirius remains sitting on the sofa in the common room contemplating what he should tell Remus. He didn’t want to make his friend even more alarmed but he couldn’t hide his feeling of concern for your breakdown in class.

Remus enters the common room behind a babble of second years who were complaining to each other about their homework.

Spotting Sirius on the sofa before the fire he rushes over to sit next to him.

“Where’s y/n? Is she alright?”

Sirius takes a deep breath before sitting back on the sofa. “No, I can see what you mean Rem, she’s very upset.”

“What do you mean?” replies a panicked Remus

Sirius turns to face him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Look mate I don’t want to worry you but in class, she just sat and stared into space, then she started crying and walked out.”

Remus let out a pained sigh and ran his hands down his face before clasping them in his lap. “Is she okay? where is she now?”

“I walked her back here, we had a cuddle for a while then she said that she was just tired so she left to have a nap,” replies Sirius

Remus stands up from the sofa and brushes his sweaty palms off of his trousers, “let's go and check on her.”

Sirius rises off of the sofa too, he turns around and looks around the common room before turning back to Remus. “Maybe she just needs space, she told me she’d come down to dinner so let's just give her some time alone and if she doesn't come to dinner then we can go and check on her.”

Staring into Sirius’ stormy grey irises Remus stays standing for another minute before nodding and sitting back down.

The boys study in the common room for an hour in complete silence, both of them preoccupied with thoughts of their distressed girlfriend. Sirius and Remus then head down to dinner, sitting down at the end of the Gryffindor table closest to the doors so that they could spot you as soon as you walked in.

The boys sit and pick at their food mindlessly for ten minutes continuously watching the door in hope that you’d join them for the meal.

Sirius lets out a deep sigh and drops his fork on his plate rubbing his brow before looking at Remus. Remus looks up at him offering a small smile before standing up. “Come on Pads, our girl needs us”

Sirius quickly stands up and grabs Remus’ hand dragging him out of the great hall. The boys briskly walk hand in hand back to the Gryffindor common room and quickly ascend the stairs to the dorm.

Remus opens the door quietly in case you are sleeping and peers in, he feels his heart break as he catches sight of you. You are lying in his bed fast asleep with puffy eyes from crying.

Remus approaches the bed and sits down on the side closest to you. Gently he starts to stroke your face with his hand whilst gesturing for Sirius to come over to the bed with his other hand. Sirius kneels on the bed next to Remus, reaches out and starts playing with your hair.

Remus watches as you slowly awaken, your eyes fluttering as they adjust to the light in the room. “Darling are you alright?” He asks you softly while rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

You feel your eyes fill with tears but don’t want the boys to see them so you roll over and put your face in the pillow hoping that they leave you alone so that you can compose yourself again.

The boys look at each other trying to figure out what to do next. Remus nods at Sirius gesturing for him to try and get a response from you.

“Baby, why didn’t you come to dinner?” You still don’t respond, making Sirius panic. “Please talk to us, we want to help you.” This makes you feel even worse, they just wanted you to be happy but instead, you’d caused them to leave dinner to look for you.

Your body starts to shake as the tears start rolling down your face. You keep the sobs in not wanting to make them even more worried.

Remus carefully runs a hand over your back worried at the lack of response. “Y/n please talk to us, we love you baby we only want to help you. It’s killing me that you are this upset and we want to be here for you.”

This is the last straw and you lose control of your crying, finally letting out the sobs that had been building up all day.

Remus’ heart breaks even more “Oh baby, come here”. Remus turns you over and carefully pulls you into his lap.

You press your head into Remus’ neck and let out all of the emotion that had been held within you all day.

Sirius sits down next to Remus and yourself at the head of the bed, he runs one hand soothingly up and down your back. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay.”

Your entire body shakes with sobs, tears soak the front of Remus’ sweater whilst the boys continue to make attempts to console you.

Remus rocks you in his arms carefully trying to calm you down. “Shh darlin’ it’s okay”

You start hyperventilating from the force of your sobs, Remus pulls you back from his chest slightly brushing hair away from your face.

Sirius reaches out to you and picks up one of your hands, he brings it up to his chest so that you can feel his steady heartbeat. “I know you're upset baby but you’ve got to breathe. Can you do that for me?”

Sirius breathes in and out slowly emphasising each breath for you to follow. “In...and out, in…and out.” This continues for a few minutes as you try to regulate your breathing.

“Good girl, you’re doing such a good job baby”

The sobs slow down slightly as you regain control over your breathing, tears still fall down your face but not as quickly as before.

Remus cups your face in his hand wiping away stray tears with his thumb before pressing a solitary kiss to your temple. “Y/n, what’s wrong? Please tell us” he begs.

You let out a sigh, opening and shutting your mouth a few times trying to come up with something to tell them.

Sirius notices your hesitation and gives you a reassuring smile. “It’s okay love, you can tell us anything. I promise you that we’ll try to help you and nothing you say can make us love you any less.”

Looking into his eyes you see nothing but love and concern. You sniffle and wipe one of your sleeves across your face. “I don’t know, I just don’t feel good”

Sirius runs a hand through your hair before giving you a sympathetic smile. “Is it that time of the month baby? You feelin’ sick?”

Tears well up in your eyes again. “No” you reply softly “I don’t feel sick”

“Then what is it babe?” asks Sirius with a small frown on his face.

You consider lying to them for a moment not wanting to burden them with your thoughts and emotions but in the end, it’s the pleading expression upon Remus’ face that makes you give in.

You take a deep breath, “sometimes I just feel really sad, like nothing will get better. I feel like no one loves me. I don't want to bother you guys because I don’t want you to leave me.”

The tears fall down your face again as you turn around and put your face back into Remus’ sweater, your fingers have a firm grasp on him as if letting go would make him disappear.

“Please, please don’t leave me, I’m sorry” you beg them as you cry into Remus’ chest.

Remus feels tears well up in his own eyes but swallows them down in order to comfort you. “No no no, sweetheart, it's okay. I promise that we aren’t leaving you.”

Remus holds you even tighter in his arms “I wish you’d told us that you were feeling like this sooner darling. We love you so much”

Sirius sits in silence listening to Remus comfort you before lifting a hand and rubbing your back. “Look at me baby,” he says with a stern tone.

You look up at him, he has a more pronounced frown upon his face than what was there previously but it softens slightly when he realises that you are watching him.

“You need to tell us when you feel like this okay? You aren’t bothering anyone, we just want to help you and we would never leave you over something like this.”

You remain silent looking away from him, the tears slowing down again so all that remains are the odd couple every few seconds.

“Promise you’ll tell us when you feel like this baby?” He asks, holding your face in his hands.

You sniffle softly before agreeing “m’kay, I promise”

“Good girl, you’re such a good girl for telling us baby,” he says fondly before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. As he pulls away from your cheek he gets a mischievous look upon his face. “Hey babe, what do you call a cow with two legs?”

You look at him confused for a minute before saying “I dunno”

He leans in towards you with a grin upon his face as though he is telling you a secret “Lean beef”

This causes you to giggle, Sirius smirks whilst Remus chuckles. The boys are pleased to hear you laugh after having been deprived of such beautiful sounds for an entire day.

“Good one wasn’t it?” He asks with a cocky smirk on his face.

“No” you reply, still slightly giggling.

“No!” He repeats back to you in disbelief. “What do you mean no? I thought it was a good one”

Remus raises an eyebrow looking at Sirius “c’mon Pads, you can do better than that”

“Fine, I’ve got a better one” huffs Sirius. “What does the perverted frog say?”

“I dunno” you reply again trying to keep a straight face.

“Rubbit” he replies.

This joke was much funnier than the last and you burst out in laughter. You have joyous tears of laughter pouring down your face as you giggle until your sides hurt.

After a while you yawn and rub your eyes, Remus smiles affectionately at you before moving you off of his lap changing positions so that you are laying half on Remus’ chest with Sirius spooning you from behind.

“C’mon darling, let's get some sleep,” he says quietly.

Sirius buries his face in the back of your neck before mumbling out a quick “I love you”

You settle down into their embrace, relaxing all of your muscles and just as you are dozing off to sleep you feel Remus run his hand through your hair as he whispers “I love you darling, more than you will ever know.”

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minsyal · 3 years

Text

The Fugitive (Finding Home), Pt. 1

Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Warnings: strong language, Resident Evil-esque violence and descriptions of gore, and dark/sexual themes

Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime trip turned dark. You're quickly exposed to the sinister and mysterious world of a cursed village under the control of dark leaders. How long will you last and will you ever return home in one piece?

Backpacking through Eastern Europe was not a top priority on your “to do” list. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Being one to preplan everything, you were completely caught off guard when your roommate sprung the idea of the trip out of the blue. You roommate, Jezebel Haine, was your first and only roommate from college onward. All legs, she was one of the stars of the track team but was most certainly not one of the brightest shining ones. She was considerably dim-witted, fanatical, and had a booming over-the-top personality that scared every potential boyfriend who had the disservice of meeting her. There were times, though, that she was rather endearing. Her childlike sense of self and emotional drivers consistently put her at a crossroads between what everyone else was doing and what she should be doing; she was, and always will be, a follower.

After four years of becoming “the bestest of friends,” you had a hard time imagining such a hard shift either into another roommate or living alone. Plus, her parents funded most everything she did and, in turn, funded the apartment the two of you shared.

“It’s an amazing opportunity!” She insisted, waving her hands in a simple manner as she rose from the condensed cushion of the leather-clad couch. “Think about it.” Gathering your hands in hers like a 20’s actress who had just met the man of her dreams, she pulled the bundle to her chest. “We frolic through the European countryside, it’s golden hour. My skin looks absolutely gorgeous… yours too, of course. The sun is just about to set, but alas!” She let out a dramatic gasp, removing one of her hands to cover her mouth. “It’s growing dark out!”

“That’s what happens when the sun sets.” You noted, causing her to drop the act for a moment only to immediately go back into character.

“We hear the crunching of leaves and twigs all around us as if something…” she drew close and lowered her voice to a whisper, “sinister is coming. Out of no where we’re ambushed! By what, I’m not sure. Then,” her eyes became glassy as she lay a delicate hand to her forehead, “two absolute studs… and I’m talking big bulging muscles, gorgeous trendy hair, captivating eyes… really everything a simple girl could ask for… seemingly drop from the sky! We’re saved!” She throws your hands into the air as if they’d fall like confetti. Drawing both her arms in, she sways back and forth in a waltz of one. “We’d be married by the next day! Hell, maybe we’d even end up as princesses.”

Oh, how utterly wrong she was.

“I told you this was a stupid idea.” You groaned, haughtily holding your chin up while feeling your spirits low. A few miles back, on an asphalt road that quickly turned to dirt, sat the dingy red rental truck with a blown out engine and a deflating tire. With no cell service and the last town being over 100 miles back, your only choice was to walk.

“Don’t blame me!” Jezebel stopped walking, feet falling flat to the ground as she stomped her foot in a childish manner. “I,” her lip quivered as all the anger held in her body dissipated, “I just wanted to have a fun time with you.” Big tears flowed from her eyes quickly after finishing her proclamation, leaving smearing black lines down her face from the eyeliner she insisted was necessary in the Romanian countryside. God, if her parents weren’t funding this trip, you’d throw a fit for your money back.

“Jess, just,” reaching backward, you fished a rag from your backpack, “don’t cry. That’s not going to make this better.” Sniffling, she accepted the rag and wiped her eyes, further smearing black all over her face. You couldn’t help but feel a shred of sympathy for her. “Let’s just keep going. No use in wasting daylight. I really don’t want to get caught out here in the dark.”

“Where are we supposed to go, then?”

“I’m sure the next town will have some sort of inn or hotel. At the very least, they’ll have directions to the nearest city.”

After another five miles of walking, the sun was beginning to set and no gorgeous studs were waiting to save you. The blazing yellow ball inched slowly beyond the horizon. Its warming rays that had kept the snow from freezing the two of you in the day crept down below the snow peaked mountains that were nestled in the distance. Shadows began dancing between the trees, sending the forest into a theater of silent performers. The dirt road that was once large enough for two cars was now only a walking path so slim that Jezebel had to follow on your heels. Every now and again you were reeled back by the piece of rope that she had attached to your backpack that was firmly gripped in her hand. She claimed it made her feel safer.

“You think those two hunks are going to come save us now?” You joked, attempting to make light of this dark situation.

“I wish.” She huffed, frustration evading her voice as exhaustion took center stage.

Flickering light caught your eye. Hues of yellow and red mingled together in the distance, the outlines of rooftops and smoke-filled chimneys littered the ground below. “I think that’s a village.”

Another mile of downhill travel was all it took to reach the place where the once distant flickering of torches and lanterns grew into the quiet streets of a cluttered settlement. There was no clear indication of movement once you stepped foot in the village; the only evidence of any life came in the form of fresh boot prints, livestock, and the ever-blazing lanterns. Jezebel was all to happy to release your makeshift leash from her fingers, trotting mindlessly by to examine the street corners and homes. Your eyes continued wandering up the rooftops, finally landing upon the eerie looming castle situated on the mountainside above.

From around the bend, you heard Jezebel screech.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You threw caution to the wind, quickly rounding the corner to scold her like a parent would to a misbehaving child. “You don’t know if these people are violent or not. We can’t just go parading ourselves into the town center.”

“I think they’re violent.” She mustered the shaky words. Her hands covered her eyes and the majority of her face as she backed away from whatever had caused her distress.

“What?” The unpleasant squelch of snow beneath your feet caused your attention to draw downward. Dark snow surrounded your boot, an unnatural red hue stained the pure white. Gaze moving upward, your chest restricted feeling as if it had crushed inward on itself. The putrid smell finally fell upon your nostrils as you backed away from the scene. Severed animal heads hung lazily above you, their tongues flopping from their opened mouths.

“I want to go home.” Jezebel sobbed, rasping her cries into her cupped hand. Shaking her head as if to knock this moment from her brain, her short-lived façade of curiosity gave way to her immediate feeling of impending dread.

“That’s what I’m trying to do right now, Jess. Just, calm down.”

A low grumble had you standing further on edge, if that was possible at this point. The sound was clear as day and was anything but human. You weren’t even sure a human could get to an octave so low without the help of technology. Eyes darting upward once more, a chill ran from your shoulders to your toes.

Hauntingly yellowed eyes lingered upon the two of you. The beast-like figure was silhouetted by the moonlight, outlined like a ghost. It looked to be a man, but also anything but a man in the same sense. Its mouth was parted, baring old rotted teeth that looked to have dried blood caked between its gums. Its hands were bloodied as well, small cuts were painted across its forearms only hidden by the rags that clung to its chest.

Before you could process the situation, Jezebel let out another yelp. In an instant, the beast lunged down from its perch, landing with a ground shaking thud nearly five feet before you. “No!” Jezebel’s open palm collided with the space between your shoulder blades as she pushed you toward the monster. The last thing you saw was her backpack falling to the ground as she began running toward one of the homes. You landed face-first in the snow, groaning as all the air in your lungs were forced out. The beast snarled, once again showing its teeth as it hunched down to your level. This was, most certainly, not the way you envisioned dying. Things like this weren’t supposed to exist; this is myth, this isn’t real. It all felt like bad dream gone worse that you couldn’t wake from.

“Pesky creatures, aren’t they?” A new voice called out as the horrendous sound of metal crushing bone and muscle slithered through your ears. The disgusting feeling of gore instantly trickled down your hands. “Please,” the voice continued, “feel free to thank me anytime.”

A moment later, the stranger let out a scoff with the squishy suction of whatever he had used to quiet the monster. The tap of a boot on your elbow finally prompted you to uncover your eyes. “Or don’t.”

“I,” you started, opening and closing your mouth multiple times unable to find the right words, “thank you.”

“Oh.” He tiled the stiff rim of his frayed hat back, exposing a pair of circular sunglasses perched upon his nose. “Foreigners, eh?”

“Yeah, um.” You gathered yourself, finally pushing up to stand on your feet. “We got lost.”

“And ended up here, no doubt.” A stifled chuckle left his lips as he tilted his hat back in place and swung whatever he used to kill the beast over his shoulder. “If I were you, I’d get the hell out of here.”

Without another word, the stranger sauntered off with a backward wave of his hand. “Oh, and have someone clean this mess up.”

“Y/n!” Jezebel’s shrill voice called as she returned with a rather confused villager. He held a shotgun with both of his hands, Jezebel shone a flashlight in your eyes.

“Are you okay?” The villager moved forward with extreme caution after peering around you dumbfoundedly seeing the crumpled body.

“I’m fine, no thanks to her.” You spat, anger swelling in your throat causing a particular acidity to your words.

“All of you! Inside this instant.” A matronly holler came from behind Jezebel and the villager. “You know Miranda’s protection only runs so far as we grow closer to this time.”

Who is Miranda and, more importantly, who was the man who saved you?

The home you were ushered into was on the outskirts of town. It was one of the larger estates given the fact that some people seemed to live in one-room shacks. Upon entering, you were greeted with the warm glow of yellow light trickling in from what looked to be a formal living room. The sweet aromas of honeyed tea wafted through the air, drawing further in as the woman led the three of you deeper into the home. What was worse? You pondered. Being killed by that beast or potentially being murdered by the inhabitants of this home? You couldn’t decide. Thus far, the two gave no indication of malice.

“Please, sit.” The woman pulled out two of the chairs at her table, the wood scratching against the floor. “I’ll fetch the tea.”

Jezebel was so brainless. She smiled at you as if she hadn’t just offered you up as a midnight snack. Surely there was no hamster running on that squeaky track that powered her.

“What was that thing?” You turned to the man who was now seated to your right. “The monster.”

The man ignored your question, instead grabbing a piece of rounded bread from the plate at the center of table. Slathering butter on it, he looked to you. “How’d you kill it?”

“I didn’t.” You frowned, recalling the mysterious man who saved your life without even dropping his name. The villager raised his brows and kicked his foot up on the table. He was waiting for more information. “Some man came out of nowhere. He had some hammer-like weapon.”

As soon as he processed the words, his foot fell from the table and he leaned forward, uncomfortably close. You could smell the distinguishable bite of alcohol percolate from his lips. “Did he wear glasses? A hat?”

“He did.” The words slowly drifted from your mouth. “Hair to about here.” You motioned to the halfway point of your neck.

“Adelina,” the man called, presumably to the woman who guided you inside. He got up quickly, rushing to the other room leaving you and Jezebel alone.

“What the hell is going on here?” You whispered in a harsh tone, leaning forward to get closer to her. “Is this not weird at all to you?”

“I think they’re nice people.” Jezebel responded at full volume without a second of thought.

“That’s coming from someone who tried to feed their supposed best friend to a monster.”

“I was buying us time to get help.”

“Help? I almost died!”

“But you didn’t.”

“When we get back to the U.S. I never want to speak to you again.” You seethed. How could she be this bad? You knew there were a few… a considerable amount of screws missing from Jezebel, but how in God’s green earth does she justify her actions at this point? The thought of it accompanied by her dazed and empty stare only fueled the fire of anger more.

“Dear,” the woman, who you now knew was Adelina, reentered the room accompanied by the man with a tray of cups and a kettle in her hands. She set a delicate china glass in front of you, softly filling it with a reddish colored liquid that she assured you was Celestial Seasonings, a tea imported from Africa. “I hear that you’ve met Lord Heisenberg.” Placing a hand over her heart, she gave a warm smile that only sent another wave of dread through your body. There was something so alluring about this woman, yet so sinister.

“Lord, who?”

Adelina stiffened, craning her neck to the side as she plastered a forced smile upon her lips once more. You had upset her, that much was obvious. “One of the four Lords that rule here alongside our dear Mother Miranda.” She explained, pushing the cup of tea closer to your body. Jezebel had already finished her first glass. Warily, you lifted the cup in your hand and allowed the warm water to heat your frozen body. An elongated finger pointed to the framed painting that hung to the wall. “Mother Miranda protects us here.”

Mother Miranda. You could only focus on the image of the woman silhouetted by six black wings and a halo outlining her head. Her eyes were indistinguishable behind the raven-like mask that clung to her face. Adorned in a black garb, she looked to be a holy figure in this town. But like Adelina, something just wasn’t right with Miranda.

The unsettling reverb of crickets and cicadas chirping grew louder and louder with each passing hour. You counted the seconds between waves of mass chorus; so far, it was roughly thirty seconds between each bleating scream of their nightly tune. You couldn’t sleep. Despite the somewhat comforting, but entirely unsettling welcome given by Adelina and Marion, you couldn’t help but feel like a caged animal in the tiny cupboard room they had given you. A curious thought tickled the back of your mind, willing you to remain as alert as possible after an exhausting day of hiking; where had they put Jezebel? Not that you particularly cared at this point. After the attack she had done a 180, dropping all suspicion of malice in this village. She simply flushed the pictures of hanging heads and wild beasts from her memory. You sometimes envied her lackadaisical memory accompanied by a fanatical view of the world. Living blissfully ignorant, especially in a situation like this, seemed to serve her best.

After a small dinner of fish that smelled of ammonia, of which you politely picked at, Adelina insisted the two of you stay the night. “The beasts will return!” She exclaimed, holding a firm hand over the intricately carved wood of the doorframe. “Early tomorrow we can arrange for a car to pick you up from the next town over.” Hushed murmurs climbing up from the cracked floors pulled you from your thought. The voices spoke in an incomprehensible argument.

“I’d quite like to keep...” the words faded in and out.

“No, no, no. Don’t be ridiculous...”

“What if....”

The floor spoke a soft squeak from beneath your feet as you shifted to get closer to the voices. Their conversation stopped, and you waited with bated breath for it to continue.

“We have to offer someone up tomorrow.” It was Adelina.

“I know, I know.” Marion sounded frustrated. “But you know Mother Miranda prefers only the purest. How are we supposed to know if either of them are-”?

The words faded once more as the two moved from room to room. Walking on the sides of your feet, you followed. Peeking around the corner, your eyes landed on Adelina and Marion illuminated by a flickering fire. They stood close to one another, keeping their tones low.

“Clearly, we offer the frumpy one. Take a look at her. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s unexperienced.” Adelina snickered, taking a seat on the worn couch with her back to you. “She wouldn’t fit in here anyway.”

“The dumb one would get along nicely with our son.”

“I agree.”

A knock at the front door sent a shiver of adrenaline down your spine. Quickly scrambling to hide, you took in a deep breath as Marion passed by with his shotgun in hand. From the parted door, you could see the sun barely peeking over the horizon. Had it really been that long already?

“Are you sure she’s pure?” The new man stood in the doorway rushed past Marion, looking in the direction of the room they had put you in.

“I suppose we could check.” Adelina called, rising to join the others. “The both of them had that tea. They shouldn’t wake until the ceremony later today.”

“Is she in there?”

“Yes, the other one is upstairs.”

“Let’s check this one first.”

With heavy footsteps falling upon the rotting floorboards of the somewhat dilapidated home, you slunk further into the shadows of the room behind you. The glint of something metal caught your attention; a small handgun sat perfectly on a dresser as if set there intentionally for you to find. Holding your breath, you crept forward to it. You’d never shot a gun in your life, but you knew the basics... both hands, check for ammo, rack the slide, pull the trigger. At least, that’s what the movies told you.

“Out of bed so soon, are we?” The soft voice turned malevolent as Adelina appeared in the doorway of the room. “I wouldn’t use that if I were you.” She motioned to the gun that was aimed rather unskillfully for her chest.

“What the fuck is going on in this village?” You spoke with purpose now, tone wavering slightly as Marion stepped behind his wife.

“You don’t understand things around here, girl.” Adelina spat, moving aside as Marion began charging into the room. The loud blast of the gun echoed from the walls of the home followed by a harsh curse and the sound of a body crumpling to the floor. You had shot Marion in the leg; he’d live.

“No,” you started, re-racking the slide as Adelina’s other friend approached wielding a similar gun to your own. Adrenaline washed over your nervous system, your hands shook violently, but you attempted to remain composed. “You’re the one who doesn’t understand. This isn’t normal! Tell me what’s going on now or,” your eyes trailed down to Marion who was attempting to control the flow of blood from his wound.

“You wouldn’t.” She laughed bitterly.

“Like hell, I wouldn’t.” You exclaimed, training the gun onto her. “Now tell me, what’s happening here.”

“You’ll understand soon enough.” Adelina’s friend’s words were the last thing you heard before your ears rang and the sting of a bullet burnt white hot in your shoulder. You weren’t sure if your gun ever went off again.

Despite being tied, bathed, dressed, and currently sitting on a freezing alter-of-sorts, you still hadn’t the slightest clue as to what was going on. A crowd of villagers surrounded from the south, all carrying on with a rumble of conversation. Adelina shot daggers at you, Marion as well, from a small, inclined hill at the edge of the crowd. The clothes you wore were your own, she had fished through your backpack claiming that it was of no use to waste a nice dress on “someone like her.” Jezebel was likely still fast asleep at their house.

A woman with the likeness of the framed photo you had seen appeared out of nowhere. So, this was the famous Mother Miranda that everyone regarded so deeply. She stood before you as the crowd’s voices hushed and their eyes became hazed with looks of admiration and devoted appreciation. Surely, she was a human, deities and gods didn’t exist in a physical form, you assured yourself.

Without a word, Miranda moved gracefully as if flowing across the ground to stand before Adelina. Taking her face between her hands, she whispered what you assumed to be praise as Adelina’s lips moved rapidly thanking Miranda. She then moved to Marion and grazed her hand against the wound on his thigh, speaking of how his steadfast devotion would quickly heal any injuries of cruelty spread by evil. When her attention finally fell back to you, she frowned. Stalking around you in circles, Miranda’s imposing figure made you want to shrivel to nothingness.

“Thank you.” She turned to the villagers as if to dismiss them. “When the time comes, I will return for another.”

The black wings you had seen in the photo sprouted from her back, shielding your sight of the villagers as they retreated to their homes. Hopeful cries and shouted blessings to Miranda echoed from the crowd as the village gate slammed. The only evidence of them once populating this empty square were flowers and offerings of fruit and grain left for the supposed goddess.

The world swiftly darkened once more.

Part 2 - Paths Meet

I promise there's more Heisenberg in the next part..

Feedback is always appreciated

#karl heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #resident evil village #resident evil heisenberg #re8 heisenberg #heisenberg imagine #lord heisenberg

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themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy · 2 years

Note

⛄ in the meadow we can build a snowman james potter soulmates au

Happy Holidays! Please enjoy my winter celebration <3

⛄ in the meadow we can build a snowman - pick a character and an au and I’ll write a scenario around it! (ex. barista au)

bless you for sending this in 🛐 for this one, I chose "- Get the same injuries as your soulmate does" from this list of aus :) I hope you enjoy it, thank you for celebrating with me!

The first quidditch game of the season was something you always promised you'd make, but never actually bothered to. However, this year, your friends had physically dragged you from your bed, insisting that you had to be there, that the atmosphere was like no other, and the players were always at their best.

Your seat on the bleachers was cold despite the end of summer still lingering, the chill seeping through your clothes and sending you into a slight shiver.

You vaguely knew who the star players were on each team, eyes glazing over as you heard the announcer, well, announce them. You kept your eyes trained on the action, but your brain simply couldn't be bothered to keep up with the action, instead growing hazy as you wished you were back underneath your covers and not outside in the cold. You didn’t even bother to pay attention when the match began, merely staring off into space and hoping that it would be over soon.

A sharp, stabbing pain ripped you out of your reverie, a hand coming up to grip your side as a soft hiss left your lips.

"What?! What's wrong?" Your friend turned to you, fully distracted from the game because of your distress.

"I dunno. Just hurt all of a sudden, I'm sure it'll be fine." You didn't bother mentioning that your side was still in pain, turning your gaze back to the game and pretending not to notice it.

You watched one of the players, (Potter, number 31), as he swerved around a chaser from the other team, the quaffle tucked under his arm as his head was ducked to his chest.

He scored easily, as if the keeper wasn't even there, and circled around the goalposts. You watched as one of the players of Ravenclaw's team rammed into Potter from the side, eyebrows furrowing as the pain in your side throbbed again. You simply ignored the pain, scrunching your hand a bit tighter around your side and trying to fight away the frown that threatened to overtake your facial features.

It seemed as though the Ravenclaw chaser wasn't satisfied with merely bumping Potter, though, and you watched in mixed fascination and horror as he signaled to the beater. One swing of the beater's bat and a bludger was hurtling towards Potter, hellbent on colliding with him.

Potter didn't seem to notice until the crowd began screaming warnings, and even then he couldn't do much about it. He weaved around the spectator's towers, the bludger chipping the wood as it skimmed along the bleachers.

Eventually, Potter couldn't avoid his fate any longer, and the bludger collided with his left arm. The second the metal ball came in contact with Potter, you felt a searing pain in your own left arm, the bone crunching sickeningly out of nowhere. You screamed, but it was lost in the sea of horrified shrieks from the crowd.

You managed to shove your friend in the shoulder with the arm that wasn't currently broken in half, gesturing wildly to your limp limb as their eyes widened in terror. You looked into their eyes just as they met your glance, your eyes widening in sync as you realized what was going on.

"No way!"

"You have to tell him!"

"How am I supposed to tell him?!" You pointed aggressively at the injured quidditch player being led off the pitch, tears beginning to stream down your face at the pain in your arm.

"Well, you can start in the hospital wing. Let's go."

Your friend led you down the stairs of the spectator's towers, helping you cradle your arm as you made your way across the grass and up to the doors of the castle. Potter was, coincidentally, just getting there as well, his own arm clutched tight to his chest, a grimace on his face.

He barely noticed you, his eyes squinted shut from the pain in his arm, but when he did he nodded confusedly at your arm.

"How'd you get hurt just watching?"

"I- Well, I think... I don't know."

"They do know. Hey, you got 'em for now, Potter? I'm heading back up."

Your friend didn't bother waiting for Potter's response, merely jogging back to the stands and ignoring your threatening shouts towards them. You turned back to Potter sheepishly, eyes looking anywhere but in his own.

"I'm James by the way. You're...?"

"Y/N Y/L/N. It's nice to meet you."

"Back at you. Now, again, how did you break your arm while spectating?"

"It, um, happened when you broke yours. And you, uh, got hit in the side, yeah?"

"Yeah..." James glanced down at your own side, "You too?"

"Yep."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Oh." James's eyes widened, gaze dropping to the grass as he shifted nervously on his feet, "Then that means-"

"Yeah."

"Um, well, I'd love to take you out sometime. Get to know you better. But, preferably, when we don't both have one arm out of commission."

"That sounds lovely, James."

"The date, or having both of your arms back?"

"Both."

"Right, well then let's get to the hospital wing, and duck out to the astronomy tower for dinner tonight?"

You grinned despite the searing pain in your arm, cheeks heating up at your newfound romance, "Let's do it."

Taglist: @knowledgeisthebomb @moonyswolf @astertist @accio–zoe @wutheringweasley @crispyfrenchfriescrisis @set-phasers-to-cuddle @thecurlyhairedwinchester @snazzy-posts @huffle-homie24601 @celestialdiamandis @queen678900 @gryffindor-girl420 @ilostcount-helpme @Dedellis @ellie-emb @nervous-shawn @fcavalerro @dorcasmeadoweslupin @chloe-geoghegan1 @lostnliterature @remusfreakinglupin @marvelouspottering @fcavalerro @xmoonylupinx @swansong321 @xinyourdreamsx @spideymood @marauders-trash-forever @khaleesiclifford @thisismysecrethappyplace @gabiatthedisco @writing-red @stardust.and.glitter @sly-vixen-up2nogood @biatheintrovert @mamarhee @spiderman-n @wonder-worlds @honeymalfoy @dumbass-sandwich @emliy-antognoli @raavkans @maraudersandco @lilaccoveredteapot @potterhead-of-ilvermorny @spencer-is-too-perfect @blackpinkdolan @my-babies-are-ash @whysoseriouspadfoot @i-padfootblack-things @mysticalsandwichseeker @yallgotkik @lilmissmoony @keey-lime-pi @elenawhatonearthisthis @margotblackburn @chrisstabme @itsanarttodie @siriusly-sad @addibug1014-blog @galaxyoffangirls @just4muggles @everything-s-comin-up-aces @sedanleystanley @starryeyedsupernova @mcu-potter-pirate @mublood-blog @svtwit @parkersingfinitywar @onthebroadway @the17resa @thefullbullpen99 @snoploop @johnnycadeissocute @all-thegayships @briisasinamonroll @lady-of-lies @ardentmuse @blueivysuniverse @dark-night-sky99 @ilovetvshowsblog @s0cial-retard @savethehoneeybees @luna-xxxxx @bvmakk @deathofthethrones @humblemei @myfriendsaremypowers @broken-and-alone12 @fandomnerdsarecool @stardust.and.glitter @hopewithadashofglitter @lazydiabetic @killerbumblebee @angeld82300 @alisoncdariel @brungun @marvelismylifffe @iluvmesomemarvelndc @beutiflybybri @stephie-senpai @heartbeats-wildly @em-aesthe @godisreal @vibhati123 @miracleoflove @classypursefarmphysique @cncno @itsshelbygates @majesticavenger @jellyfishwriter @ikbrenda @righttide @marvelousmarauderstrash @hero-ically @itshelaodinsdottirbitch @behindthebook @sewarner @themarauders-headcanons @bloomingonmay @songforhema @rose-aesthete @blueberrytiger01 @i-want-my-name-back @lumonva @unfortunatekiwitrash @smilexcaptainx @oldschool-hoee @kiwi-nonspecificgender @shymagicsworld

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is-nini · 3 years

Text

Prince! Xiao x royal! reader

You are y/n l/n, the daughter of the l/n family. The daughter of duke f/n and duchess m/n and today is such a surprising day for you.

The huge grand clock was ticking, filling the quiet room of your dining table that was once filled with chatter and cheer. The look on your face is priceless and shocking to say the least after hearing a very very surprising news that has reaches your ear.

"Wh-what?!".

You sputtered. You mom and dad smile's at you proudly but their smile didn't hide the anxiety swirling in their eyes.

"Prince Xiao who will soon becomes a king, has invited you to have a dinner with him, in the letter he stated that you have been chosen to be his future wife, isn't it exiting?!".

Your father stated proudly. You shake your head and furrowed your eyebrows. Prince Xiao.. who will be crowned king next week wanted YOU to be his WIFE?!

"Nuuh-!".

You shake you head no.

"There's no way! That I'm going to his dinner party of whatever".

You stated. Your mom and dad looks at you shockingly and in a instant your mom runs towards your chair where you're seated.

"B-but honey- listen.. we know you had your differences in the past but- he wanted to made up! Won't you see him one time? For us? We cannot reject his invitation- he is going to be KING soon".

You sigh and looks down at you half empty plate. You and Xiao used to be such a close friend... Until one day he grew cold, he pushes you away and said that you shouldn't have meet him.

Although it was 15 years ago, you remembered it like it was yesterday.. the tears of loosing him has stayed with you for years to no end.. and now he suddenly wanted YOU to be his WIFE? Your mom felt your distress and you father felt it too but an order from one of the highest rankings of the kingdom cannot be rejected.

"Please... Y/n.. just meet him.. for dinner. I have a feeling he wanted to tell you something.."

You father gently said, he smiles gently towards you once you made a eye contact with him. Your father's begging and your mother's sad and stressed looks is enough to make you accept the invitation with a sigh.

"Fine... But i won't like it".

You gritted out of your teeth. Your mom and dad cheers at you, you might be mad and sad about the whole ordeal but.. you can't really say no to your mom and dad.. can't you?

The birds are singing and the sun is shining.. the sky seems to be in a good mood sadly you and the sky doesn't seem to have the same mood today.

"You look great sweetheart".

Your father said, squeezing your hand with a huge smile on his face while your mother is smothering you with compliments and praises more than usual.

"Ahhh gosh who knew our little girl would be a pretty elegant woman?!"

She squeal. You giggle and puts a small gentle smile on your face. As much as you hated this day.. at least you'll know that the both of your parent will be happy while you're away.

You kiss the both of their cheek and took a step back. You mom hugs you one last time.

"We know this is hard for you but.. we really do hope you sort out your differences".

You gave them a sad smile.

"We shall see.."

And with that you step inside the carriage and started to make your way to the kingdom... Oh boy.. you do hope that you'll be able to carry on smoothly.. the emotional scar in the past hasn't heal and you're afraid that you'll bleed and lose control.. you quickly shake your head and slap your face gently with both hand.

"You'll be fine! You'll be fine y/n l/n. He will NOT be the cause of you loosing control. Period!"

You look out the window after a couple of hour of ride. The castle is in full view. In a couple of minutes you'll be reaching the castle... Your anxiety is blowing up inside you.. some part of you are happy that you'll get to see him but.. some parts of you are just.. scared.

As you walked out of the carriage, you can feel your legs trembling tremendously. One of your maid ask if you're okay and of course you say yes... Even though you're obviously lying the maid doesn't say anything more. The maid doesn't know what to say, and you cannot blame her.

You took a deep breath and started to Walk towards the humongous door way.

One of the knight opened the huge door and bow down, letting you walk inside the palace. Gosh... It has been 15 years since you last saw the palace.. nothing really change around here accept for the tense aura that you bring upon yourself.

A fellow butler bow Infront of you as you courtesy back to him with a friendly smile on your face.

"We have been expecting your arrival lady y/n, please follow me. The prince has been waiting for your arrival".

Ever since you stepped into the castle, no words are being spoken out from your mouth as if a curse was upon you to not allow you to talk, when in reality you're just nervous and loose your voice. In a couple of second.. you will meet you childhood crush who crushes your heart.. how are you suppose to be calm?!

You and the butler stopped in front of a huge golden coloured door that's decorated with your favourite flower... Interesting.. you are too deep into your headspace that you didn't notice the butler beside you is asking you a question until he clears his throat, making you jump.

"S-sorry"

You said, the butler smile's softly at you and bow down for a while and then he whisper to your ears.

"You'll be fine lady y/n, please relax. Are you ready my lady?"

He ask and then pulled away from you, giving a soft smile towards you. You flash a Sad smile and nodded towards him as he opened the door revealing a beautiful glass room. The walls the glass... Everything is magical.. the place's is filled with your favourite flower, favourite colour and design. Even though the room is absolutely enchanting, you cannot ignore the man in the middle of the room. Sitting on one of the fancy chair with a glass of tea on his lips. He slowly puts down his cup and stare at you with his yellow glowing eye.. that you remember.

You straighten your back and walk towards him as he stands up and walk towards you too. Just as you were about to reach him your gosh darn clumsy leg slip, making you stumble forward lucky you manage to catch yourself before you fall. You quickly take your none existence composure back and looked at Xiao with a huge red across your face.

Xiao saw you stumble and.. oh god of rex lapis.. you just becomes prettier and prettier the more he saw you.. the way you stumble is not elegant but it is cute.. it reminds him of a little... Kitten stumbling.

"Becareful, we would want you to fall".

..... What.. he wanted to slap himself for saying that as he took out the chair for you.

"Y-yes thankyou your highness".

You wanna slap yourself for stuttering UGH why is this so embarrassing?! You sat down slowly on the chair he has pulled out as you watch him goes back to his seat. The table is round and is made out of glass, making Xiao able to see everything in a pretty close proximity since the table is pretty small..

The two of you sat in silence. You are staring at your hand from above the table while Xiao is looking everywhere else but you. The aura here is so tense.. which is understandable but Xiao can sense a rather... Heavy aura coming out of you. Not that he's wrong. The sense of anger and confusion slowly engulfed you and starting to get the best of you.

"Why did you invite me here?"

You spat out, you quickly wanted the earth to swallow you whole but it's too late to go back so you decided to swallow your pain and cringe and started to pull up your head to look at prince Xiao.

Xiao was.. not surprised in the slightest.. he knew you must be mad about the event that took place 15 years ago... But Xiao cannot stand anything anymore.. after he got mature he knows what to do.. he finally has the courage to ask you for a dinner with him.

"To make you my wife".

Xiao respond. Loud and clear. you furrowed your eyebrows, is this all? No explanation? No sorry just a proposal? Is this all really? You tsked and roll your eye. Lady etiquette? Frick that. Throw that away you wanted explanation.

"Just that?"

You spat, staring at Xiao dead in the eye. Xiao realize the mistake he made and sigh quietly trying to fix everything but his pride won't allow him to do so..

"No.."

He trail's off as he prepare his mental.

"I wanted to apologize.. for the event 15 years ago.."

You sigh and without you noticing your shoulder slowly relaxed as you stare at your hand, fiddling with your thumb. A habbit that hasn't left you since you're small.

"I was young and dumb.. at that time".

Xiao looks at your eyes, filled with emotion.. sad and anger emotion swirling inside your pretty e/c coloured eye.

"I was- i was scared.."

He trail's off. You tried to hold your tears the best of your ability. Scared? Of what? What is he scared about to make him wanted to abandon you?

"We were going on a war soon.. and as the future king of this kingdom it's either kill or be killed. At first i realize that maybe it's better if you just.. stay away from me, thinking that it will keep you safe-"

His words was cuts off when he heard a little noises coming from you. He focuses his entire body and mind towards you as he saw tears running down your face. With wide eye he quickly runs towards you and spin you chair, making you spin too. You close your face, not wanting to show Xiao the mess you are right now. Xiao kneel in front of you and hold your shoulder.

"Y/n? I-i'm sorry.. i wanted to make you happy and safe is all! I never wanted to abandon you nor make you cry i just-"

Xiao looks at you sadly and hugs you as you sob to his shoulder, you hugs him back, letting your emotions out. You don't care if your tears stained his suit. You just wanted his warmth. The warmth that you missed for all of this years.

"I just.. wanted you to be safe.. i wanted you to be happy. I thought pushing you away will be better but.. i was wrong. Very wrong. And it was stupid of he to take 15 years to finally realize that i cannot live without you. I'm sorry".

You shake your head no and hug Xiao back.

"N-no I'm sorry! I was- i was stupid! I should've ask you what's wrong! I should've-"

You were about to continue when xiao pulled you away and puts his palm on your cheek while he looks at you deep into your soul through your eye.

"No. You're not stupid. Never say that. You're not wrong... Okay .. stop feeling like you're wrong. Stop blaming yourself".

He whisper. He push his face closer to your face and smile's at you gently and sweetly.

"Shh... It's okay dear.. I'm sorry okay.. can you forgive me?"

You nod your head 'yes' slowly as you tried your best to flash him your warmest smile. Xiao wrapped his arms around your shoulder, hugging you again and tighter.

"Even after all this year's... I still.. i still harbor deep feelings.. towards you.. that's why i ask you to be my fiancee. I can never.. move on. Never. I am aware that asking your hand in Marriage right now is too fast but.. I'm willing to do anything to make you fall for me again.. would you take my attempts to make you fall for me again?"

You giggle and hugs Xiao back, shaking your head while little hiccups is spoiling from your mouth.

"N-no need... Because even until now i still keep my feelings for you and only you Xiaobebe".

You talk while sobbing, giggling and smiling at Xiao. Xiao just giggle alongside you and kiss your lips passionately as you kiss him back. Once you both pull away from eachother to take some air, you decided to crack a joke.

"Gosh... We're so cheesy".

Xiao full on laugh and kissed your temple, and kiss you back.

"Shut up... You ruin the moment my princess".

You giggle against his lips and hugs your hand around his neck.

"Shush. You don't mind"

You reply with a sassy tone. Xiao humn and looks at you dead in the eye.

"So sassy huh? Since when is your lips so spicy?"

He puts his thumb on your mouth and stroke your mouth slowly with his thumb.

"Let's see how long can you keep up the sassy act princess".

He nibble on your neck, making a rawr noise and then pull you up princess style from your seat. He opened the door and started to bring you through the hallway and making his way to his bedroom.

Unknowingly the both of you, Xiao's butler and your maid was listening to your every conversation with a wide smile on their face.

"Such a wonderful relationship~".

Your maid said with a fake tears running down her face. The butler just smiled and walked away from the place they were eavesdropping.

"Let's go, we have a wedding to plan people!"

The butler shout's as the maid and servants around him cheer. You have always bring the colour to the cold hearted Prince's heart everyone ships the both of you and now your presence will bring warmth to the whole kingdom and the future king's heart while filling the newspaper with amazing news.

Taglist: @laic2299 @inlustris-is-slowly-dying @dreaminselfinserts

#genshin fanfiction #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #xiao x y/n #xiao x you #xiao x reader #genshin xiao #genshin impact xiao

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kohanayaki · 3 years

Text

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 3

Continuing the story of how you and Sirius became friends; as James and Remus grow closer to you, Sirius continues to treat you coldly until a late night encounter makes him question everything.

LINKS: CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8

________________________________________________________

Ch 3 .:Resistance and Reconciliation:.

~Previously~

“I'm not going to bother making friends with someone whose family is so wrapped up in blood politics they forget to be human beings first. Trust me, I've met their mother enough times to know.”

“Did you ever ask them about it?” Remus pressed.

“I don't really need to, do I? They're a (L/n). Open your eyes, Moony!”

Remus' brow furrowed, a shine in his eyes akin to sympathy as he regarded Sirius.

“Perhaps it's you that needs to clear your vision, friend.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1974 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius sat on the stone ledge on the window of his dorm room, looking out towards the Black Lake. He could see the push and pull of the wind as the thin branches of the ash trees bowed gently with the rhythm. In the reflection of the glass he could see James and Peter behind him experimenting with an altered set of wizard's chess, complete with fire-breathing knights and bishops that threw daggers, while one of Remus' records spun in the background.

Despite everything he could have been thinking about at the moment, his thoughts, irritatingly enough, drifted to you. He frowned slightly as he leaned his shoulder against the window, annoyed that you occupied even a portion of his mind. He just couldn't understand you. Somehow you had turned James, who had once openly proclaimed you his sworn enemy, into something close to a friend in the span of a year. You had no qualms with pranks pulled on you, yet you were fiercely protective when they were directed at others. You were always smiling, yet your temper took no prisoners. If you weren't a Slytherin you might even be attractive.

The thought made him bolt upright. Where the hell did that come from? He almost laughed. No. Absolutely not. He was Sirius Black, he could get anyone he wanted in this bloody school, and he certainly wasn't going to busy his mind with you. What the hell was wrong with him? It's not like he noticed the way you smiled to yourself when you were reading, or the fact that the sound of your laugh got stuck in his head like a song—

No. Stop it. Get your head straight, they're evil.

Sirius exhaled deeply, rubbing his tired eyes with his hands. For some reason that thought didn't sit right in his brain, and the longer he sat with it he came to a horrifying conclusion:

Maybe Remus was right.

The only time you'd really been nasty to them was when they'd instigated it first, or whenever they had a go at Snivelus, which had become less and less frequent; Sirius suspected because of your tentative friendship with James. He'd always just assumed you were like the other Slytherins he'd come to know. There's been hearsay circulating around you, especially given your family's reputation, but you yourself hadn't really done anything to prove the rumors. Maybe you really weren't like your family at all. Maybe you were like him. . .

Suddenly, he caught movement in the corner of his eye, not from his friend's reflections but from outside the window itself. A figure emerged from the lamplight of the castle gate, making their way towards the edge of the forest. If the green lining of your school robes and (h/c) hair didn't peak his interest, the flash that he saw of your face as you shot a quick glance over your shoulder confirmed it was you.

Sirius' mind began racing as he watched you disappear into the foliage, and suddenly every thought that had given you the benefit of the doubt vanished. He'd heard the rumors about the gatherings in the forest, everyone had. He'd even caught Snape practicing dark magic there himself one of the first nights they'd used the Shrieking Shack passageway.

He jumped off his perch by the window and grabbed a sheet of parchment and a quill, drawing a rough outline of the perimeter of the forest. He labeled the Black Lake so his spell would have a going off point and pressed his wand to the still drying ink.

“Revelare Popularis,”

The enchantment was a work in progress— a technique he'd learned from a seventh year. It wasn't exact, but it was enough to tell him if anyone else was in the forest right now. His eyes darted across the paper as he scanned his makeshift map, and the color drained from his face as he saw names suddenly appear in a cluster by the lake: Mulciber, Wilkes, Avery, and Malfoy.

Was this it? Were you really one of them?

James looked up from his game as he saw Sirius grab his leather jacket off where it hung from his bedpost.

“Going somewhere?”

“(L/n) just went into the forest,” Sirius said, “I'm following them.”

“Why, Sirius?” Remus said sardonically, having had enough of his unusual grudge against you, “We're not really ones to talk when it comes to sneaking around the forest at night, now are we?”

“He's got a point,” James said, “I mean, what do you think you're going to see?”

“What do I think?” Sirius scoffed, pushing the paper into Jame's hands, “what does it look like?”

James looked down at the parchment blankly.

“What am I looking at?”

“A variation on Revelio,” Sirius explained quickly, “if you have a location in mind it shows you who's there, but only at the time the charm is cast.”

“Are you kidding me?” James' jaw nearly dropped, “You're just now showing this to us? We could have been taking advantage of this spell to dodge Filch this whole time!”

“I'm serious.”

James had to fight hard not to make a joke out of that one.

“If (L/n)'s meeting up with those guys it can't be for anything good,” Sirius continued, “and I'm gonna find out exactly why.”

Before any of the boys could get another word in, Sirius took off running down the corridor. James groaned, rebelling against the urge to slam his head into the wall.

“I've got to stop him before he does something stupid,” he said, pulling a coat on over his shoulders, “You with me, Remus?”

“Probably not the best idea,” Lupin reminded him, “the moon's full tomorrow. I won't turn, but in the direct moonlight I may get a bit. . . well, you know.”

“Right,” James sighed, running a hand through his hair in distress, “Peter?”

The boy jolted as he was addressed, his eyes quickly cast down to his twiddling fingers.

“I. . . w-well. . .”

“Fine,” James said, waving them off in annoyance, “I'll go at him alone.”

___________________________________________________

You took a grateful breath of the crisp night air, letting the wind whistle through your hair and clothes. You loved your common room, but it could feel constricting at times, especially when there were nights as beautiful as this taking place.

Your eyes drifted up to the moon, smiling at the sight of it. It was nearly full, only a sliver of white missing from the very edge of the sphere. The sight alone was enough to make you feel more at home in your own skin, an inexplicable sense of comfort washing over you. You hadn't been able to really let loose and just run in so long. You'd made doubly sure no one had followed you into the forest, but you still gave your surroundings a quick once over. You jumped as the sound of leaves crunching suddenly asserted itself behind you and you lit your wand quickly, turning to see who it was.

“. . . Black?”

“Sorry, were you expecting someone else? One of your pureblood friends, maybe?”

The confused look on your face only made his anger flare.

“Don't act coy,” he asked harshly, “just what are you playing at?”

Your back straightened in surprise, taken aback by his words.

“Excuse me?”

“I've seen you talking to my brother, Rosier, Snivelus, and all those other Slytherins. Don't think I don't know what you're doing,” the words flew out of his mouth before they had time to pass through his brain, every irrational irritation he had regarding you spewing out of him at once, “I've had to sit through it, you know. All those dinners where my parents talk blood politics with all the fanatics who think just like them. I've listened to your mother brag all about your pure blood line and how her child is 'so eager to carry on the family traditions'. So whatever you're planning by getting close to James, I'm not going to let it happen.”

You felt like you were frozen in place, staring at him as your throat tightened into knots.

“My mom?” you said, voice suddenly small, “Sirius. . . my mom passed away when I was little.”

Your words hit the Gryffindor like a truck.

“. . . what?” he asked dumbly, his brain delaying slightly in processing what you'd just said.

“She got sick. . . an experimental spell gone wrong. If you met someone with my family's name that spoke like that, it was probably my aunt. My cousin goes to Ilvermorny. That's the child she's talking about, not me. The divide between purebloods and muggleborns is even more severe in America, if you can believe it. . . ”

Sirius faltered, this new information going against everything he'd heard and thought he knew about you and your family.

“But,” he hesitated, “your father—”

“Put up the image he had to in order to keep me safe,” you said. You knew he was documented as being very open about his pureblood pride and distaste towards muggles, but it was a cover more than anything, “Since he stopped speaking with my aunt and moved us both away from the estate, she's acted as the new head of the (L/n) House, and that was years ago. . .”

You trailed off awkwardly, not feeling very self-righteous in your explanation.

“I know my family doesn't have the best reputation. . . that's probably why you hate me, huh?” you chuckled humorlessly, wincing at how harsh the words came out. But if you were honest, you were hurt that out of everyone in their group, Sirius was the one that didn't even seem to want to give you a chance. You were the one who had extended the olive branch in the first place on the condition that they ease up on Severus.

“Hate you?” Sirius echoed hollowly, feeling guilt creep up on him like a shadow, “that's. . . shit, no, that's not—”

“Everte Statum!”

You gasped as Sirius was suddenly shot backwards, his body flipping wildly through the air from the force before being slammed against the trunk of a nearby tree. His head spun, heavily disoriented as his vision shifted in shades.

You had drawn your wand on instinct, looking around for your attackers when you saw a black-clad figure lift their hood, revealing a long mane of white hair that stood out starkly in the night.

Malfoy.

“Well, looky here,” Mulciber taunted, revealing himself behind you, “we've caught the two biggest blood traitors of the last century having a touching little moment together.”

Laughter echoed from the trees, Wilkes emerging from the shadows. You took up a defensive position as their group surrounded you.

“Now, let's not be hasty, Mulciber,” Lucius said, “their father may have disgraced their house, yes, but they didn't have a choice. It's not too late for them to make the right one now.” His lips turned up into a snarl as he regarded Sirius, “get away from that blood traitor, (L/n), he'll rub off on you.”

You grit your teeth hard, preparing to cast a spell when Malfoy put his hand up in a silencing gesture, the pretentious little prat.

“Ah, you don't want to make any rash moves either, (L/n),” he said, looking to your left. You followed his gaze to see Avery coming out of the foliage, grappling with someone under his arm.

“Potter?!”

James smiled weakly as Avery held him in a choke hold, a bit of blood dripping down the side of his head.

“Hey,” he said, humor still light in his voice, “So, this didn't exactly work out as planned.” He groaned as Avery's elbow was driven into his stomach, effectively silencing him.

As soon as you tried to move towards him, Lucius had his wand pointed at you.

“Let him go and get lost, Malfoy,” you said lowly, “you've taken this far enough.”

“You've been avoiding us, (L/n),” Lucius said, ignoring you entirely, “Snape may have come up with some rubbish excuses for you earlier, but you can't keep running from this.”

“If practicing curses on first years and terrorizing other people is how you plan on using magic, then I don't want any part of your little cult,” you spat, “face it, Malfoy— you lot need me, but I don't need you.”

Lucius exhaled sharply, his genuine surprise at your resistance replaced quickly with anger.

“Think about what you're doing, (L/n),” he said, his eyes narrowing dangerously, “don't be a fool like your father.”

That did it.

With a growl you unleashed an orange bolt of energy from your wand, your Stupefy hitting Lucius square in the chest. Mulciber was quick to retaliate with a jinx of his own, which you quickly nullified with a shield charm. Shock flashed across his expression at your casual use of nonverbal magic, and he recovered one second too late.

Sirius was back on his feet, petrifying Mulciber and swatting Wilkes away like a fly with the knockback jinx before either could cast a spell at you. You and Sirius found yourselves back to back, fending off Lucius as he continued to direct a steady stream of curses in your direction. Sirius managed to create an opening for you and you turned to where James was being held.

“Evanossa!”

A flash of blue hit Avery, who shrieked in horror when he saw that the arm he was using to hold Potter had turned gelatinous, fingers drooping down like melting ice cream. James wasted no time paying him back in kind for roughing him up earlier, sending him flying into the oak tree and using the water from the Black Lake to freeze him there before joining you in the fray.

“Expelliarmus!” he called out, sending Wilke's wand spinning out of his reach and leaving only Malfoy against the three of you.

Lucius faltered for a moment as he stared down your group of three, but held fast.

“Leave it, Malfoy,” you said, “it's over.”

He growled under his breath, taking up an obvious offensive stance, but you were too quick.

“Ebublio!”

Lucius gasped as he suddenly found himself encased in a giant bubble, his knockback jinx ricocheting off the inside and hitting him in the back of the head. He pounded against the bubble in frustration but found it to be thick as Plexiglas and just as strong, unable to pop it. Suddenly, he was hoisted into the air as you raised your wand higher, directing him farther and farther away until he was hovering directly over the Black Lake.

“Let me go this instant!” he growled.

A devilish smile graced your features.

“You got it.”

“No, wait, don't you dar—AHH!!”

You turned your back on him, your breaking eye contact promptly bursting the bubble and sending him flailing into the water a few feet below.

You chuckled as you sent a few quick counter-jinxes out from your wand, restoring Mulciber's range of motion and liquefying the ice that trapped Avery.

As soon as Mulciber was unpetrified he took off running towards the Lake where Lucius was furiously treading water, tripping over his feet as he dragged Wilkes along with him. Avery limped after them, defrosted but still chilled to his bones (which you had been so kind to also restore).

“I'd fish him out quickly if I were you,” you called after them, “the giant squid is more active at night.”

“You're out of your mind, (L/n)!” Avery turned around and yelled, but with fear evident in his eyes, “You'll live to regret this, mark my words. The Headmaster—”

“Would love to know who cast the first spell, I'm sure,” you said darkly.

Avery stammered out some lame response under his breath before turning around and running after the rest of group, retreating.

Sirius turned to look at you, awestruck and chocked full of adrenaline. Maybe you really weren't so bad after all.

“That was. . .” James trailed off, grasping for the words and blurting them out as soon as he found them, “Brilliant, (Y/n). You're bloody brilliant.”

You felt your face heat up, not expecting that. You and James had stopped trading insults and threats (serious ones, anyways) and your teasing had become well meant, but neither of you had crossed the threshold of actually paying the other a compliment before.

“Thanks, Potter,” you said, unable to fight the smile on your face. You turned to Sirius briefly. “I hope this cleared some things up for us,” you said, “I'd really like to try and be friends, so. . .”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, wanting to kick himself at the way you turned him into a monosyllabic neanderthal with just a look. You gave him a small smile before turning back to James who was trying desperately to hide his limp and aching rib cage.

“Alright, let's get you to the hospital wing, Potter,” you sighed, “you look like a cheap action star in a muggle movie.”

“Uh,” James said nervously, “better we not. If I go to Madame Pomfrey three times in one day she'll never let me hear the end of it.”

“And who's fault is that?” You huffed, slinging an arm over his shoulder and helping him walk, “at least let me patch you up, then.”

Sirius followed some distance behind you, watching as you walked James back towards the castle and laughed at his occasional jokes. This one night had just turned everything upside down for Sirius. This whole time he was sure that he didn't like you because you were a blood-purist Slytherin and he was jealous that you were taking his best friend away from him; but the way you had stood up to Lucius and his goons made your position on blood politics very clear, and the tight feeling that struck Sirius' chest as he watched you cozy up with James made him reevaluate just which one of you he was jealous of.

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

“Sirius?”

The man blinked, slowly coming back to reality. You were looking up at him in concern, your head resting lightly on his shoulder. It took an embarrassing amount of his willpower to keep from leaning forward just a few inches and kissing you.

Could you pick a worse time, you numbskull? He thought, mentally smacking himself for even thinking about it.

“Are you okay?” you asked hesitantly after he stayed silent.

“I'm alright,” he insisted, giving you a reassuring smile, “just. . . thinking about how far we've come.”

His answer surprised you, though not in a bad way.

“I suppose we have,” you smiled back, “this is a far cry from you scowling at me from across the Great Hall over your breakfast.”

“I did not scowl,” Sirius scoffed playfully, nudging you away with his shoulder.

“Right,” you grinned, “scowling, glaring, glowering, whichever you prefer.”

“I said I was sorry,” he said, putting his hands up in mock surrender, although you both knew you weren't really upset about it. You'd long since forgiven him for his initial misjudgment.

When your light laughter died down, your head found itself lulling to the side again, tiredness taking over your mind as you rested against Sirius once more. When you tilted your head up to look at him he had a surprisingly pensive look on his face. Your eyes traveled across his expression, his gray eyes almost taking on a deep shade of blue in the shadows of his room. You noticed how much younger he looked when he was smiling; it was in moments like these when it really set in how long you had known each other, because you could see the years in his eyes.

Your own flickered down to his lips in spite of yourself and Sirius' heart skipped a beat, fearing you could feel it racing in his rib cage. When had you turned him so soft? He chuckled inwardly. Long before he had fully come to terms with how he felt about you was the answer. Even when he was in Azkaban, with two of his closest friends dead and the world convinced he was at fault, even if he had to live with the fact that he would never see you again, he still thought of you, and that kept him alive, sane— himself. But now you were here in front of him, and he was terrified that at any moment you would vanish into thin air and he would find himself back in that horrible cinder block cell, face to face with a dementor as it took his last memories of you away from him.

Your hand squeezed his, almost as if you had read his thoughts— as if you were assuring him that you were real, and you weren't going anywhere. You noticed him leaning in closer, even if he didn't, possessed by some invisible force. You were nearly about to meet him halfway when you were suddenly startled apart by the sound of quick, heavy-footed steps bounding down the stairs.

You both looked at each other as if you had just awoken from some sort of trance, instinctively putting some distance between yourselves as you shifted away awkwardly.

“I. . . I should probably get to bed,” you said, your face warm.

“Right,” Sirius said, reluctantly getting up from his seat at the edge of his bed, “I've kept you up long enough, I'm sure you're tired. . .”

Before you left his room you turned over your shoulder, a small smile on your face.

“It's really good to see you again, Sirius,” you said earnestly, “we should catch up for real later.”

“Definitely,” he said, a bit of his old self reflected in that smirk of his, albeit forced.

You steeled yourself, turning the doorknob and closing the door behind you gently before you did something to ruin the friendship you had just gotten back after over a decade. You shook the thought aside, your head hurting. You really did need to sleep after today.

You were about to head into your room, but something in you didn't feel quite right. You'd definitely heard someone go down the stairs, but you hadn't heard the front door open or close. Dread pooled in your stomach at your gut feeling, and you found yourself inexplicably making your way back down the stairs.

The house was eerily silent now that its residents had either gone off to bed or disapparated until the next meeting in a few days time. You'd left Sirius upstairs, and you knew Harry was staying here for the time being until school began, but everyone else had gone home. So then why did you still feel someone else's presence so acutely?

You stared at the empty hallway leading to the front door, taking a cautious step forward; the image in front of you didn't feel real. The colors were too saturated, the edges too sharp, and the surfaces too smooth. And that's when it hit you. The smell of rain. Leather-bound books. Lavender.

You froze, staring at the seemingly empty space in front of you.

“Severus?”

The potions master didn't dare make a sound, thinly veiled behind his invisibility charm but clearly not well enough. He was standing not three feet in front of you, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last thing he would ever see.

He panicked slightly as he felt you reach out to him with your mind, shutting himself off expertly. Your hurt expression as you were unable to detect anything pained him, but he wouldn't dare think that he deserved to say anything to you. What was there to say after everything he'd done?

Your gaze roamed the empty hall, and for a moment he could have sworn you stared him right in the eyes.

You knew he was there.

The moment lasted no longer than a second before you looked away, turning to go back up the stairs. As soon as your back was facing the front door you heard it open then close gently, and the tears you had been fighting to hold back finally spilled over.

Read chapter 4 here !

Taglist: @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi

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storytellerofuntoldlegends · 3 years

Text

an icarus and his sun: chapter 14

A/N: hello i return!! just one more chapter after this, it's so wild to think that this fic is almost over!

Warnings: kissing, self-worth issues, talk of near death situations and past injury

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

Kissing Scott felt like Jimmy was cradling sunlight in his hands. Something that should have been impossible, and yet all the same it was happening. And now that Scott had Jimmy, he seemed determined not to let him go. Not that Jimmy was exactly complaining about Scott’s new mission to kiss him breathless- but considering not too long ago Scott was trying to make him breathless in an entirely different sense, and that the others didn’t even know what all went down… they should probably stop. So with great regret, Jimmy tried to pull away from Scott- key word there being tried.

“Scott, c’mon, let go of me,” Jimmy chuckled, dodging yet another kiss. Scott settled for pressing his lips to Jimmy’s cheek before tucking his head under Jimmy’s chin. His wings shifted to curl around the both of them, and as nice as it felt, they really needed to get up from the floor so that Jimmy could let his friends know what happened.

“Mm… no,” Scott hummed with a giggle.

“We should probably tell the others what happened- they all think you’re still fighting off the corruption, or are possessed,” Jimmy pointed out.

“I don’t see why we can’t just tell them later,” Scott pouted. Jimmy let out a fond, incredulous sigh.

“You also haven’t properly eaten anything in a few days, you’ve been living off of splash health potions for the most part,” Jimmy said sternly.

“Well, I know something I’m hungry for,” Scott teased, and Jimmy didn’t even need to see his face to know that he was smirking. Jimmy sighed again.

“And I thought you were incorrigible when we hated each other,” he commented with a chuckle. Scott pulled away enough to look at Jimmy with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You’re stuck with me now, better get used to it, sweetheart,” he murmured. Jimmy could feel his face warm up considerably at the petname, and Scott grinned at the sight. Well, two could play that game.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, sunshine,” Jimmy replied with a grin. Scott’s eyes went wide, and he flushed pink all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Oh you can flirt back now. Right,” Scott managed to get out, voice coming out a bit strained. Jimmy just grinned wider.

“So what do you say, sunshine? How about we let everyone know that neither of us are dead and that you’re also not possessed?” Jimmy offered. Scott made a flustered sound at being called “sunshine” again, but collected himself enough to let out a sigh of defeat.

“Fine,” he grumbled, before getting up off of Jimmy. Jimmy stood up as well- just in time to catch Scott as he suddenly tilted to one side. Scott was leaning against Jimmy heavily, and Jimmy looped an arm around his waist as he tried to keep Scott upright.

“Scott?!” Jimmy gasped, unable to keep the panic from his tone.

“M’okay- think that lack of actual food thing is catching up to me. Just stood up too fast and got dizzy, that’s all,” Scott reassured him, standing up a bit more but still holding on to Jimmy, just to be sure.

“Then we’d really better tell the others so that we can work on getting your strength back,” Jimmy said with a relieved smile. He led Scott over to the lever for the secret door, and the moment he flicked it, a group of people came tumbling in. Nearly all of them fell to the floor in a heap, except for Pearl and Pixl, who sheepishly smiled at Jimmy and Scott. Gem was the first to pick herself up from the floor, dusting off her robes and letting out a nervous laugh.

“We uh. We might have been listening for a little bit there! We just didn’t want to interrupt,” Gem explained sheepishly. The others picked themselves off from the floor as she spoke, and Shelby was the last to get up from the floor, holding a black shulker box to her chest.

“Where’d the corruption go, I’ve got a box for it!” Shelby chirped, peering around Jimmy and Scott. The two of them blinked in surprise, and Scott looked to his arm. The corruption was long gone, all that was left was a scar from the initial cut. Jimmy looked around the room, and soon spotted what was left of the corruption lying on the floor near where he and Scott had fought. It looked like a mass of red vines that twitched every so often, and Jimmy’s stomach turned with nausea at the sight. Scott seemed to notice Jimmy’s sudden distress, and followed his gaze, only for Scott himself to turn several shades paler than he already was as he clung to Jimmy a bit tighter. Shelby noticed where the two of them were looking, and quickly scrambled over to carefully gather up the corruption and put it in the shulker box.

“Hey, easy, just look at me- you’re okay,” Jimmy soothed, reaching out to gently turn Scott’s head towards him. Scott’s look seemed far away even as he was looking into Jimmy’s eyes, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before blinking them open with a shaky sigh, gaze looking much more focused than before as he leaned his forehead against Jimmy’s.

“I think it’s probably good I’ve only been living off of health potions, pretty sure I would have just lost whatever I would have eaten right then,” Scott got out with a short laugh.

“So… how did you get the corruption out anyway?” Pixl asked after pointedly clearing his throat. Jimmy and Scott jumped slightly, pulling away from each other (but not far enough for Scott to be without standing support) with a pair of sheepish smiles.

“Well I uh. We were fighting, and I might’ve kissed Scott to throw him off, but it ended up being the push to snap him out of it and fight against the corruption,” Jimmy explained with a blush. Scott looked at Jimmy with a perplexed expression.

“Jimmy… I didn’t do anything against the corruption. It- before I woke up with you uh… holding me, the last thing I remembered was losing to another version of myself in some sort of red dreamscape. Your kiss saved me, not anything I did,” Scott explained. A series of adoring coos and gasps sounded from the group, and Jimmy felt his face burn.

“True love was the key this whole time?” Shelby pondered, looking down at the shulker box she held with the now contained corruption.

“Well- I- surely it’s gotta be more than that,” Jimmy managed to get out, feeling incredibly flustered.

“So a mix of love and wills, then. It sounded like Scott maybe could have beaten it on his own, he just needed the extra help!” Shelby replied with a shrug. Scott frowned.

“I don’t know, honestly. The other me- it- he?- was mostly toying with me, I think. Said something about how ‘he’ would be pleased to know that I was specifically under the corruption’s control,” Scott explained shakily.

“He?” Gem asked, brows furrowed in concern.

“The other me referred to some other person that he was sent by, maybe? Then when I asked about who the ‘he’ was, the other me said something about how I didn’t ‘remember’ and how that made me easy to control,” Scott continued.

“The corruption is sentient?!” Shelby gasped, holding the shulker box away from herself.

“And apparently sent by someone else? And seemed to already know you somehow?” Gem pondered. Scott shrugged helplessly.

“I don’t know. All I know is that it’s gone now, and I’m extremely glad for that,” Scott said, voice tight with nerves as the barrage of questions began to overwhelm him.

“And we’re glad you’re okay too!” Katherine piped up, stepping forward with a smile, clearly picking up on Scott’s discomfort. Scott blinked in surprise at her words.

“You.. are?” he asked in disbelief. Katherine just looked as surprised, if not more, than Scott did. The others had a mixture of concern and confusion on their faces as well, and Scott shifted uncomfortably at the attention.

“Why would I not be?” Katherine asked. Scott swallowed nervously.

“I- I knew about Fwhip’s plan for the ball, and didn’t say anything. Your- your castle was destroyed because I was too afraid to do anything about it,” he replied, voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid speaking any louder would awaken the wrath of those around him. An almost wounded expression came across Katherine’s face.

“Scott, even if I was still mad at you when we found you lying in front of Gem’s home, I wouldn’t have wanted you to die. Besides, between Fwhip’s gloating monologue and what we knew from what Pearl and Gem had told us, we know that you weren’t exactly a willing participant in Fwhip’s plan,” Katherine said softly, taking a slow step closer to Scott. His wings shifted anxiously, and Jimmy gently squeezed Scott’s arm to comfort him.

“I- you’re not mad?” he asked, voice still hushed and timid. Katherine smiled gently.

“No, I’m not. If castles can be rebuilt, so can friendships,” Katherine replied softly, holding out her arms. Scott barely hesitated at the invitation, letting go of Jimmy to instead hug Katherine tightly. Any remaining tension Scott held seemed to melt away as Katherine hugged him back. He hesitantly drew back after a few moments, a contemplative expression on his face.

“Is something wrong?” Jimmy asked. He reached out towards him, intending to put a comforting hand on his shoulder- but was pleasantly surprised by Scott taking his hand and tugging him closer so that they could stand side-by-side, fingers intertwined. Jimmy felt his face flush, and Scott smirked at him for a brief moment before schooling his expression into something more serious.

“So now that the uh- the corruption is dealt with. For now. Hopefully. Anyway what I’m trying to say is- what do we do about Fwhip and Sausage?” Scott asked. The others exchanged glances, seemingly having an entire conversation without words that Jimmy was hopelessly unable to decipher. Scott didn’t look like he knew what was going on either, and seemed a little apprehensive at that fact.

“We’ll protect you,” Katherine said firmly. The rest of the group nodded in agreement. Jimmy found himself nodding too- and to his shock, Scott seemed a little flustered.

“I- that’s a nice gesture, but not really what I meant- I was talking about them in a more general sense, not just if they try to come after me specifically. Again,” Scott explained with a sheepish laugh.

“Well I can definitely handle whatever they throw at us. Fwhip ran like a coward after I chased him away a few days ago,” Pearl said with a confident grin.

“Sausage won’t be an issue either, not with my magic to defend us!” Gem added.

“If I’m not gonna take out my rage on Scott for playing with Jimmy’s heart, then I guess I can settle for Fwhip or Sausage,” Lizzie said with a shrug. Scott paled slightly, and Jimmy frowned at Lizzie with a disapproving glare.

“Lizzie, you don’t need to be mad at him anymore, we made up!” Jimmy protested, raising their joined hands as proof.

“Think a little more than that happened,” Pixl commented dryly. Joel let out a laugh that he was quick to stifle, pushing at Pixl with one hand while covering his mouth with the other. Lizzie rolled her eyes at the two of them before looking at Jimmy again.

“Well I’m not mad because of that, but how do I know he’s good enough for you?” Lizzie said, glaring at Scott in a way that Jimmy could tell was playful, but Scott didn’t seem to realize that, wings stiffening before relaxing as he took a deep breath.

“I know I have a lot to make up for. And I know it’s not gonna be as easy as me nearly dying on you all to gain your trust again. But I’m willing to make an effort-” Scott paused, looking at Jimmy the gentlest he ever had, the ice in his eyes melting for Jimmy and for Jimmy alone- “because he’s worth it.”

“Scott…” Jimmy trailed off, unsure of what to say after all of that. Scott just smiled at him and squeezed his hand. Lizzie just blinked at them, dumbfounded for a moment.

“I was mostly just messing with you, but… I’m glad to know that you’re serious about him,” Lizzie said with a smile. Scott let out a breath of relief, smiling back before his expression settled into something more resolute.

“Speaking of serious, we should probably discuss more concrete defense plans in case of any other sort of attack from Fwhip and Sausage,” Scott said. Various sounds and mutters of agreement filled the room, and they began discussing defensive strategies- things like making moats, building walls, and sharpening their fighting skills. Jimmy didn’t contribute much to the conversation, not that he exactly had much to offer- but even if he did, he was too busy listening to Scott with rapt attention, a smitten expression on his face all the while.

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#empires smp #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #geminitay #shubble #ldshadowlady #smallishbeans #pearlescentmoon #pixlriffs #katherine elizabeth #flower husbands #seablings #mcyt #aiahs #sage writes

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fific7 · 3 years

Text

Even His Name - Part 1

Sirius Black x OC

Summary: Friends forever? Maybe. Maybe not.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, slight consent issues, 18+ please due to NSFW content including unprotected* sex. The age of consent in the UK is 16, sorry if that’s not in line with the laws in your own country/state.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

A/N: Looking at this photo, I can kinda see why Ben Barnes got fancast as Sirius Black. This story is non-canon and takes place in my imaginary HP AU with OC, Celeste (meaning celestial or heavenly).

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Sirius Black. Even his name was beautiful.

She watched his tall, lean figure approaching as she sat & relaxed against one of the shady trees beside the lake.

She drank in every last detail before he got too close, before her out-and-out staring was noticeable to him.

The lazily slouching but graceful walk, his long legs eating up the distance between them.

The pale, porcelain-like skin, the aristocratic cheekbones, the trendy light scruff of moustache with matching scruff along his jawline, the full sensuous lips, the famed long black wavy hair. And of course, those hypnotic grey eyes, ringed by long dark lashes. Those eyes could change like mercury, from silver to dark pewter within a heartbeat.

As he got got closer, her eyes almost totally closed, but she wasn’t dozing off, it was a ruse to disguise her intense staring. Her eyes continued to eat him up like he was a very large chocolate eclair.

It was Saturday, so no school uniform. Trademark bad-boy attire, then. Her heart sped up at the sight of the scuffed leather biker jacket, the Led Zeppelin t-shirt, distressed jeans & leather work boots. Not properly laced up... of course.

All in black, a living embodiment of his name.

She heaved a long sigh, letting it escape without thought, and her eyes closed fully.

She was aware of a shadow blocking the sunlight falling on her closed eyelids. The sound of somebody settling themselves down next to her, still partly casting a shadow onto her.

Her eyes opened a sliver, and her head rolled to the side towards him of its own accord.

“What’s the big sigh for, Celeste?” in his deep, slightly hoarse, breathy voice. The voice which sent a thousand female hearts beating like drums.

“Sirius.” She sighed again, her eyes opening slowly. “You’re blocking my sun.”

He grinned, chuckling. He gestured to his body with one hand, “This ... masterpiece... of a man joins you for a pleasant interlude by the lake, and all you can say is that I’m blocking your rays?!”

“Yeah.”

He chuckled again. “Ah c’mon, you know you love me.”

She rolled her head back to its original position. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“And maybe it’ll come true?” he smirked.

“When hell freezes over.”

He leant over, placing his head on her shoulder as he did so, puppy dog eyes in play, complete with pouted bottom lip.

“Now, you know that isn’t true. You’re desperate to get me into the sack.”

“But, Sirius,” she said innocently, “there wouldn’t be enough room in the bed for me, what with you and your massive ego already in it.”

His head shot back, his unmistakable & glorious barking laugh issuing forth & attracting the attention of every female within earshot.

“You’re hysterical,” he continued laughing, more quietly. “No, I’m Celeste,” she smirked, throwing her version of his favourite line back at him.

He groaned, “You’d use my own comeback against me? Really?”

“Every time,” she nodded.

He was grinning back at her, when she was suddenly aware of another shadow falling across her. She frowned involuntarily, looking up to see who it was. A tall Ravenclaw girl stood there, confidently smirking down at Sirius. She didn’t spare his current companion even a glance.

“Hi,” she smiled brightly at him. “Thought you’d maybe like to take a walk with me, Siri?” giving him a suggestive sideways look, all the while twirling a strand of her long brown hair round a finger.

Celeste rolled her eyes, smirking & tutting loudly. She muttered, “Pathetic,” under her breath & began to gather her books, getting ready to ‘exit stage left’.

Sirius looked over at her, smiling and laying his hand on her arm, stilling her movement.

He looked up at the other girl. “Sorry, love,” he said with a grin, “spending some one-on-one time with my best girl here.”

She still didn’t look at his ‘best girl’. “Well, why don’t I just join you here while you do that, and then we can go for a walk by ourselves afterwards?”

Sirius looked down, and Celeste knew what was coming next. He’d given her his polite brush-off, now here came the not-so-polite one.

“Didn’t you hear what I just said? I’m here with Celeste,” he said, voice harsh, glaring back up at her.

She stopped twirling that lock of hair, recoiling from his glare & tone. “Well, you know, I just thought...”

“You just thought wrong then, didn’t you! Now, run along dear, off you go.” Voice cold, eyes narrowed.

She turned on her heel and scuttled back to her little band of giggling friends. Something told Celeste that her friends wouldn’t be all that sympathetic. If there was one thing almost guaranteed to break up friendship groups, it was who did, or didn’t have, Sirius’ attention.

Celeste laughed, “Lordy, I don’t know how you put up with all that fangirling.... ‘Siri’.” she imitated the girl in a high-pitched tone. “They make me ashamed to be a woman. Don’t they have any self-respect?!”

Sirius laughed, “But Cel, they’re just rightfully worshipping ... this!” Again, one hand gesturing up & down the length of his body.

“What.. a skinny boy?” she questioned, looking him up & down, “Really? What’s the attraction then?” she laughed.

He’d sat up straight as she’d been speaking, faux offended. “Celeste! How could you? Firstly, I am a man, not a boy.”

“Sirius, you’re sixteen. You.. are.. a.. boy!”

“Nah, nah, nah! I.. am.. a.. man!” dramatically emulating her slow delivery before continuing, “And I’m nearly seventeen. Secondly, I am not skinny. I’m tall and athletic.”

“Skinny.”

“Athletic!”

She laughed. “You don’t even play Quidditch any more. So where do you get this ‘athleticism’ from? Running away from Filch and the prefects after a prank?!”

“Thank you for answering your own question!” he said, laughing back at her.

He again leant towards her, eyes boring into hers, changing to dark & stormy mode, lips so close that she felt the little huffs of his breath on her own lips as he spoke.

“Don’t fight it, Cel. Just give in and admit you want me! We’ll head to my dorm right now and spend the entire night together, having hot, sensual, sheet-tangling sex!”

She burst out laughing, turning away momentarily, eager to break the close proximity to him. “The gods love a trier, Sirius. Pity I don’t.” She looked back at him, “And no doubt one of your fangirls is already curled up under your quilt, just waiting on the god that is Sirius Black to arrive and rock her world!!”

“My bed is exclusively reserved for you.”

“OK... curled up in her bed then, waiting on Mr I Never Stay The Night to arrive.”

“You pierce my heart!”

“Sirius, you may be one of my closest friends, but I can honestly say that you, within just the last few weeks, have become a total man-whore. And a barely legal one at that.”

“Celeste!! Just bloody well admit you want me.”

“Can’t that huge ego of yours handle the fact that there’s at least one girl in this school who doesn’t drop her panties the second you look at her?!” her laughter pealed out over the surrounding area, catching the attention of and sparking the venomous jealousy of the Sirius Fangirls’ Club.

He also burst out laughing, inciting the Fangirls even more.

“Ah.... Cel, my ego is perpetually the size of a peanut whenever you’re around.” Innocence personified, wide grey eyes gazed at her. “It never gets the chance to grow any bigger.”

Then the trademark smirk appeared. “Unlike a certain other part of my anatomy.” One eyebrow quirked up at her, long fingers slinking down onto his jeans zip. She couldn’t stop her eyes following them. His lips slid upwards into a pleased grin.

“Urggghhh!” she groaned, closing her eyes briefly before starting to pack up her stuff. “On that note, I’m off!”

“Awww, don’t go! This was just about to get interesting. You almost agreed to give me a quick blowjob!”

She stood up, brushing grass off her denim cutoffs and slipping on her low wedge sandals. Sirius raked his eyes up and down her figure as she did so.

She leant back down to him, knowing full well that he was getting an eyeful down her tastefully low-cut frilly top. She had on a translucent lacy bra, and she heard his breath catch as soon as he spotted it.

Putting her lips right next to his ear, she said, “Firstly, I don’t give blowjobs to sixteen-year-old skinny boys.” She huffed out a breath onto his earlobe, “And secondly, even if I did, it would.. not.. just be a quickie, darling.”

She pulled back and stood up straight, looking down at Sirius. A deep pink blush was spreading up from his neck over the entirety of his handsome face, his mouth hung slightly open and his eyes were wide, a glazed look in them.

She grinned, starting to walk away, “Have fun with the fangirls, Sirius!”

He was still staring after her when the first wave of girlies washed over him, clamouring for his attention in various tried, tested and (to him, at that moment) very tedious ways.

They were all to be disappointed. Sirius swatted them off like they were so many irritating mosquitoes, stretching out & lying on his back with his hands crossed under his head, staring up into the blue of the early autumn sky, deep in thought.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

She leisurely strolled back to the castle, sniggering to herself at how easy it had been to wind Sirius up into a tight spring.

Her smirk dropped somewhat though, when she contemplated the bigger picture. What a shitshow.

She was slap-bang in the middle of the biggest cliché the fates had ever created. Best friend really fancies best friend, but won’t admit it in case it either doesn’t work out and/or ruins the friendship. Yeah... that old chestnut.

Sighing, she made her way to the Gryffindor common room, spotting Lily and Mary on their favourite corner sofa. She plopped herself down next to them, instantly becoming enmeshed in the girlie gossip which was currently in progress.

However her mind drifted to the beginning of that school year, their sixth, when she and Sirius had met up again after the summer holidays on the Hogwarts Express. She’d been frankly amazed at the change in him after such a short time.

From awkward, gawky schoolboy to man-god in the space of a couple of months.

She learned from him that he’d run away from Grimmauld Place at the beginning of the holidays and was now living at the Potters’. She was very glad to hear that, knowing what he’d gone through at the hands of his parents. He certainly seemed to be thriving there, having apparently sprouted quite a bit over the summer.

Everything about him suddenly seemed long & slim. Long legs and arms, with big hands and big feet to match. Long slim fingers. Long slim feet & toes which she stared at, fascinated, every time she caught a glimpse of them.

She’d instantly known that their friendship would change in future. She’d never thought of Sirius as anything except a little schoolboy buddy, but over the summer he’d emerged from his post-pubescent chrysalis as a hot, sexy teenager with shoulder-length hair, designer stubble and attitude with a capital A.

He’d always attracted a fair bit of female attention over the years. He’d never really acted on it though, too caught up in Marauders mischief to care.

But holy hell...now? All the girlies were going to go batshit crazy over him.

He’d also - right there on the train no less! - boxed her into a corner and immediately started flirting up a storm, which had mildly terrified her. This was the guy who, only two months before, had been a kind of surrogate brother figure in her life for the previous 5 years.

Now he was making sexual innuendoes and inviting her into his bed every five minutes. She just couldn’t figure out his agenda.

As predicted, at the start of term, the Hogwarts female population - irrespective of year - quickly lined up behind Sirius and adoringly dogged his every footstep. As did a fair proportion of the male population, it has to be said.

Sirius quickly accepted his new-found godlike status & revelled in it. Flirting his way around school and through classes and meals. Getting caught in broom closets, empty classrooms and corridors, snogging for Britain.

It was only 4 weeks into the new term and she already found it all mildly disgusting. Hence she’d decided to knock the flirtatious idiot back down a peg or two every chance she got.

However, his flirting behaviour with her hadn’t dialled back at all, if anything it had increased, and this is what she was pondering on.

Her name was suddenly yelled right into her face. Lily was staring at her as if she was an alien.

“Uh, sorry - what?”

“We’ve been waiting on you to answer Mary’s question, for like, 15 minutes.”

“Oh shut up! I just zoned out for a minute or two.”

Mary sniggered, “And no prizes for guessing who the subject matter of said zoning out was!!”

She sighed. “OK, OK, alright - yes - it was Sirius.”

Scoffing noises from her friends.

“Look - I just can’t get my head round the way he’s still behaving towards me. Flirting & shit.”

She shook her head, and continued, “This was my annoying little ‘school brother’ 3 months ago! So he’s either had a brain meltdown and actually fancies me, or else he’s practicing all that crap on me to then use on his fan girls! And let’s be honest, one reason’s as bad as the other!”

They both exchanged significant looks, grinning at each other.

She huffed, “What’s wrong now?! I’ve just told you what’s on my mind!”

“Can you, hand on heart, swear you don’t fancy the pants off Sirius?” asked Lily.

“Look, I can see why girls find him attractive, yeah. But you’re forgetting that for five years, he was...”

“Yeah, yeah,” interrupted Mary, rolling her eyes, “..your surrogate little brother.”

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@omgrachwrites

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#sirius black x reader #ben barnes #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #ben barnes as sirius black #sirius black #sirius black fan fic

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princehrry-writings · 3 years

Text

Moon Over The Meadow

this is my very first harry fic!!! i want to write more for them so if you would be interested in that please let me know!!

word count: 3234

warnings: mentions of death, i don't think anything else though.

It was here that Y/n learned to live off the beaten path she had always known, in the midst of the forest green that was her lover's eyes.

Harry is the prince and Y/n is a peasant.

There wasn’t much to do in the light of day. Not a single shadow to hide in, every corner of the kingdom touched by a ray of sunshine. People would see them. See him. And that just wouldn’t do.

Harry couldn’t be seen by anyone, no. They would ask too many questions, alert the guards, something would go wrong. He couldn’t put her in that kind of danger. So they agreed. Tonight, when the moon peeks over the trees in the meadow, they will flee.

They will find their freedom.

Y/n had never been one to stray too far from the beaten path. Her mother would never allow her to. Is your life really worth something as silly as this, child? She would gripe, fingers bruising the plushy flesh of her upper arm. One could say she was beaten into submission, although her mother never did much in the physical realm or harming her. It was always a look, a tug, and her words. God her words cut deeper than any knife ever could, she was sure of it.

But then she met Harry. By some magical happenstance, one day tending to the gardenia bushes in the garden furthest away from the castle, she stumbled upon the prince. He rested on a bench with a journal laid upon his lap, tears lightly raining down his flushed skin, a soft frown etched across his pink lips. She quietly sat down next to him, with no intention of saying anything, just letting him know he wasn’t alone in his pain. Whatever kind it may be.

She had known of him her whole life, having worked in the palace with her mother since she was just a child, but hadn’t seen him in what felt like an eternity. She remembers afternoons drenched in a golden haze, running around these very grounds with the likes of him and whatever children were amongst the castle, until she was ripped away by her mother just the same as she always was when she strayed too far from the sidewalk. Somewhere deep in her mind, Y/n knew why her mother acted the way she did. Kept her locked away like she had done her whole life.

It was to protect her. The King could be very cruel to anything and anyone that stepped too far out of line. Her mother was terrified that one day her daughter's wild imagination and wanderlust tendencies would get her into the wrong situation at the wrong time, with the wrong people. All she wanted was to protect her precious Y/n. This was the only way she knew how.

Harry, as angelic as he had been as a child, she recalls, slowly slid closer to her, remembering the days they would sneak away and play together until his keeper would come yelling for him. Any and all communication had been hastily cut off with her as soon as his keeper realized where he was and what he was doing. Thankfully for both of the children, it was never discovered who he was with. But nonetheless, Harry was kept under tight lock and key. His keeper would lose her head if the king found out that his son was galavanting around his castle with the help.

But on this day, in the garden amongst the Gardenias, their souls re-intertwined themselves as if they were still those young little kids, playing damsel in distress in the warm afternoon sunlight, as if they had lost no time at all. The only difference now being that they talked instead of played, kissed instead of screamed, and fell into a real love instead of one carelessly crafted from a children's game.

This went on for weeks, months it seemed. Meeting under the disguise of Y/n working in the farthest garden and Harry wandering off to a quiet corner for his studies. It was here, cushioned by soft grass under their bare bodies, that Y/n learned to live off the beaten path she had always known, in the midst of the forest green that was her lover's eyes.

“Petal, we can't stay here,” He sighed one summer afternoon. A mimicked sigh fell from his Love’s lips. She knew they couldn’t. This thought had plagued her mind, keeping her from sleep most nights. In their world, the prince doesn’t get to fall in love with the peasant girl and live happily ever after. A fairytale ending had never been an option on the table.

The only way they’d get to be happy was if they fled the only life they had ever known.

“I know, H. What are we to do though? Where do we go?” It was hard to imagine being anywhere but the castle grounds. But she knew that no matter where she went, as long as Harry was with her, she would be safe.

“We can find a clearing, far away from here, deep in the woods. Somewhere they won’t ever look, and I can build us a cottage, and we can have a garden just like this one. We won’t have to worry about doing the wrong thing in the King’s eyes, or saying the wrong words. We won’t have to hide ourselves.” He said, a dreamy glaze over his eyes.

“You’ll build us a cottage? How? We won’t have anything Harry!” The girl exclaimed. Sure, she knew they had to leave, that they couldn’t stay. But the reality that they truly had nowhere to go was setting in like a thick heavy fog, distracting her from anything else.

“M’love, look at this,” He whispered, taking her hand in his. His free hand came up in front of him, palm out, facing the grass below them. A flower sprouted right before their eyes, out of nowhere. Y/n gasped. Harry had never told anyone this secret. Nobody but his mother knew, and she had passed away three years prior during childbirth complications. Now the only person that knew of his secret was his Love.

It wasn’t a surprise that the Queen had never told the King of her affliction. He would have lost his head, and in turn- she would have lost hers. So she kept it from him, and when her only child began to show the signs that he too possessed such essence, she knew she had to protect him from the likes of his father. She never loved that man, she only ever wished for him to suddenly fall ill so as to free her and her son from his fury, but alas it has been her that faced such a fate.

Harry knew what he would face if anyone other than his Love were to know. It was why he hadn’t told her until now.

“This is how I’ll build our home. You’ll not want for anything, m’love. Whatever it is you desire, just tell me and I’ll make it so,” He had dreamed since he was a child to be able to spoil the girl sitting next to him. Y/n’s effervescent eyes grew wide. She felt a new warmth spread through her at this discovery, now she knew for a fact that as long as she had him, she was safe. For he had just proved to her that he was more than capable.

“Why have you never told me? Did you thinkI would judge you?” Panic grew in the girl's chest. How could her lover think she would ever judge him.

“No, no, no Pet, I didn’t tell you for your own safety! My father is a very cruel man and he would stop at nothing to have my head if he knew about this. I couldn’t bear to live if he went after you because of me so I kept to myself.” Her eyes softened at this and the warmth grew even stronger. She truly did love this boy, he was the only one who’d ever looked at her and seen a person. Not just a peasant girl or a daughter whose only job is to cook and clean and tend to the garden. Harry saw much more for his Love. He saw greatness for her, and he would stop at nothing to give her just that.

So now here they are, standing at the edge of the trees, moon over the meadow, ready to leave behind the only thing they’d ever known. Harry could feel his Love’s pulse racing, he knew she was scared. She had assured him many times that it was only because she was afraid of what lay ahead, not because she didn’t want to go. They both knew that Harry wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

The girl had left a letter to her mother on the pillow she used to rest her head upon. Part of her felt bad for leaving the woman behind, but she had no choice. Her mother wouldn't approve of this and she certainly wouldn’t come. She would scold her daughter for running away. Your problems don’t leave just because you do, child. You must face them or they will haunt you forever. Y/n felt she wasn’t running away from her problems though, because this was the only solution. There was no way to make the King accept their love. So they could either leave or dare to sit and watch what would become of their life. Harry would end up married off or dead, Y/n would, well- she’d be dead either way. She couldn’t breathe without Harry by her side.

In the shadow of the moonlight, Harry led them through the forest. The guards had been alerted that the prince was not in his chambers so they didn’t have much time. They needed to move fast. He went where his intuition led him, moving obstacles out of the way with a small flick of his hand as they went. In the distance, he could hear the cries of men searching for him and the loud cracks of whips used to keep their horses moving.

His Love hummed a tune to distract herself from the loud noises and fear she felt heavy in her chest, Harry’s hand clutched in hers so he didn’t lose her. It was dark but they never stumbled and they never felt danger get too close. Y/n assumed Harry had something to do with that. Every so often they would pause and rest, Y/n’s head laid upon his chest, his back against a tree. His heartbeat kept her own steady as she matched her breathing to his. He had always been able to calm her down by just being near her. His presence was all she needed to feel at peace.

Harry laid his lips on the top of her head, his hand lightly stroking her hair.

“What will we do in the morning light when people can see us?” They had been traveling most of the night now, but she didn’t quite know how far they had made it. She just knew they had lost the guards. Their breaks didn’t last more than 5-10 minutes so as not to waste time, but they were traveling by foot so they couldn’t have made it too terribly far.

“We’re quite close m’love, so I assume we will be arriving just as the sun is ascending. I’ll have you rest while I place a protection barrier around the perimeter of the clearing and then I’ll get started on the cottage so you won’t need to worry about a thing.” He said, dusting his thumb across her cheekbone.

“Will people be able to see our home from outside the clearing?” She was worried about wandering strangers stumbling upon them and causing trouble. Harry beamed at the girl before him.

“I’ll make it so that people can’t find us Petal. We will be safe, I promise you.” This put his Love at ease and they got up to return to their journey when there was a rustling noise next to them. Y/n froze and slowly turned to see a bush being disturbed and clung to Harry in fear that something was about to jump and attack them. To her surprise, it was a small cat.

“What are you doing out here all by yourself little one?” Y/n sunk to her knees as the animal walked over. Harry’s heart almost burst right out of his chest at the precious sight in front of him. His Love had always had a soft spot for animals. When they were little she used to pretend she could talk to them and understand what they were saying. He used to think maybe she really could because, hey- he could make things appear out of nowhere- but it turns out she was just a very imaginative little girl. He loved her nonetheless so he would happily take care of animal communication if need be.

But just because his Love couldn’t understand what the animals were saying doesn’t mean she didn’t love to talk to them.

The little cat, who was small enough to warrant calling her a kitten, nuzzled right up the Y/n. She practically had hearts for eyes when looking at the little furball. She was a beautiful black kitten with starry blue eyes that could be seen even in the darkness, as they reflected the light of the moon.

“You are just the cutest thing I think I’ve ever seen,” she beamed, “Harry we can’t just leave her!” He knew this was coming. He also knew she’d always wanted a cat of her own but the King was allergic, so cat’s were not allowed on castle grounds. That man would have killed her and the cat.

Harry never was able to resist the puppy dog eyes his Love was so good at giving him. Not that she had to do much begging to get him to do anything. He would do whatever she wanted, because when she was happy so was he.

“What should we name her?” He asked and a smile as bright as the sun and stars combined spread across her face. He would do anything to see that smile everyday.

“We can think of names on the way! Come little one, we’re your family now!” Y/n scooped the kitten into her arms as a motor-like pur erupted from her little chest. The kitten rolled over in her arms and nuzzled against her chest, falling asleep immediately. It was like a match made in the stars.

They kept walking, Harry still waving away obstacles to keep his Love from stumbling, and eventually they arrived at a clearing, surrounded by trees at the base of a mountain with a small river flowing through and flowers blooming all around. It was a place Y/n could have only mustered up in a dream, and now she was going to live there. It was more than she could have ever wished for.

Harry led her to a soft spot in the grass and she laid down. He could tell she was about to fall asleep on her feet. As soon as she laid her head down, she was out like a light with the kitten snuggled up to her. Harry cast his hand, warming the ground to keep them comfortable and got to work casting the protection charm. He made it so that people wouldn’t be able to see them or penetrate the barrier, but animals could roam freely.

As he worked the morning sun began to peak over the trees. The whistles of the flowing river served as calming background noise and the singing birds aided the ethereal glow that was cast all around the meadow that Harry and his Love now called home. He could see them living a long beautiful life there. One free of judgment and fear.

Harry hoped to raise a family here. He wanted to raise children who knew what it was like to have their fathers unconditional love, to see what it was like for a father to love a mother, something he hadn’t been privy to growing up.

Y/n woke up to Harry whistling a tune as he went about gathering little things like flowers and twigs. A small flower had been tucked into her hair, on top of her ear, she couldn’t help but smile. As she sat up, she stretched her body, letting out little groans of relief that alerted Harry his Love had awoken.

He strolled over to her and sat down, pulling the girl into his lap. His heart swelled as she buried her face into his neck, running her hand across his chest.

With a kiss to the top of her head, he whispered, “Good morning my sweet girl.”

“Good morning my love,” She sleepily replied, voice still raspy. She still felt tired but not enough to stay asleep and the sun was now too bright for her to rest peacefully.

“I’ve finished the perimeter, I’m going to work on the cottage now. Is there a particular way you’d like it to look?” He asked, stroking her hair lightly. She hummed in contentness before giving him an answer.

“Whatever you create, I will love. As long as there is a roof over our heads to keep us safe from the rain, I will be happy!” He felt her smile against his neck. Running his fingertips along her back, he sighed in adoration of the sleepy girl in his arms. If he could spend every day like this, he would be just fine.

“Alright Petal, can you grab my hand please and focus on taking deep breaths for me.” He asked her, holding his palm out. She took it without question and cleared her head of all thoughts. Harry’s other hand dug lightly into the ground beside him. Y/n felt a small buzzing where she was connected with the boy, and she opened her eyes to see his were closed. A dim golden glow surrounded their hands, surprising her.

Harry had never cast any spells that used this much energy so he knew that he would need the help of his Love. Y/n figured it would be best if she closed her eyes again so she did and waited for Harry to let her know when he was finished. It didn’t take but a few minutes for him to stroke her hair and ask her to look up. When she did, she saw a beautiful cottage. Long vines of Ivy twisted up the beautiful white brick walls, A wrap around covered porch with flower boxes sat atop the railing, and a bay window where Y/n could picture herself reading on sunny afternoons just like this one. It was perfect.

“Harry,” She gasped. This was more than she could have ever imagined. She absolutely loved it.

“Is it ok?” He asked tentatively.

“Love, it’s more than ok! It’s amazing, it’s perfect. Thank you thank you thank you!!!” She cried, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face.

“I did good?” He smirked, rubbing her side before wrapping her tightly in his embrace.

“You did wonderful! I love it and I love you!” She gazed into his eyes before leaning up and pressing her lips to his in a kiss full of passion and gratitude.

Harry doesn’t think he could ever get tired of kissing his Love.

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