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#I keep praying God if he’s not the one I marry please make it clear to us please take him away somehow
audreythevaliant · 1 year
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*whisper yells*
HE LOVES ME!!
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Fanfic Idea! (Lucemond, where Aemond heard of selkies, and decided to capture one for himself)
Aemond heard of such creatures, a being who can shape shift with the use of their hide. They say they were beautiful once transformed into humans, that stealing their hide would make them follow you forever. That you could even force them to marry you, as long as you keep the hide safe and hidden from their view. It was intriguing, such tales. Aemond would love to see if there was any truth in them.
He was an adventurer, and in his journeys, he tends to "research" the truth about such fairy tales. Often times, they turned out to be false sightings, exaggerations, but there are often times where this things were proven true, despite how many people say it's impossible. Hells, he even managed to find, tame and ride an old dragon, for gods sakes, so their must be some truths in the mountain of falseness.
So that was what led him there, waiting on a deserted island, his dragon resting far away from the coast. He was not one to be impatient, especially if the prize could be something as great as a sighting of such creatures. Perhaps, if they were as attractive as the rumors say, he might even take one for himself.
There had been several animals swimming towards the land. Seals, they call them. The rumors were that those shapeshifting creatures would take their form in the water, and would take off their hide on land. As of yet, the seals did show themselves, but not of them have yet to take off their hide and reveal a beautiful being underneath. There he sat, hidden, watching as the seals came and went.
It took seven days, and even he was beginning to think this was another false story. A shame, he thought. It would have been quite a sight.
Just when he was ready to pack up and leave, he saw them. There were four of them, and at first he decided to just take the chance to wait.
His patience was finally blessed with the four seals slowly taking off their seal skin, revealing such beautiful looking humans.
One of them in particular caught his eye, for it was clear he was the youngest, and to him, he looked the most attractive. He was the smallest, with a face like a cherub, curly brown hair and a look of wonder in his eyes, excitedly taking in his new surroundings.
They spoke in such a strange tongue, Aemond can only try to decipher what they were trying to say through their actions, with the three older selkies, an older boy and two girls, pointing at things and chattering away excitedly.
Soon, it was dusk, and Aemond knew they were preparing to leave. He took his chance and grabbed the hide closest to where he hid, and revealed himself to them.
They were quick, quicker than he would have imagined. They grabbed their hides and dove straight to the ocean, leaving the unfortunate one who's hide had been taken.
To his luck, it was the hide of the youngest, and when Aemond revealed he had it, the young one wept.
"Please give it back." He cried in common tongue, hugging his naked self.
"I think not." Aemond answered, turning around, heading to his dragon.
Like the rumors say, the poor boy had no choice but to follow, asking, begging for his hide.
"Ser, please. I am no woman, nor am I a strong man grown, nor do I have any skills you might deem useful or magical. I have nothing you would want. Please return my hide. Please."
He looked at the poor boy, tears falling from his face as they walked farther away from the cost and closer to Aemond's dragon.
"Oh? And what can you possibly give in order to convince me to let my prize go?"
He was silent, sniffling like a child. "What do you need me for, then? Pray tell, what do you wish for me to do?"
Aemond thought for a moment.
"Be my companion, for now."
The young boy was silent. Once they reached his dragon, he took his sack and threw it at him. It was a simple dress, bought days ago, just in case.
The boy wore it easily enough, though he did seem hesitant at first, and though it looked large on his frame, with the clothing sliding down on his shoulders, he said nothing, only looking at his hide.
Aemond should hide it somewhere while the boy slept.
"If I am to be your companion, what am I to call you, then?"
"You may call me Aemond, or Master, or Ser, whichever you please. And you, boy? What are you called?"
"....Lucerys. I am called Lucerys."
Such a sweet name.
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I like mixing mythologies with these two.
So, thoughts? Violent reactions?
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New sentence bc I like this one better: "fine, keep acting like you hate me" Goncharov x reader please ❤️ I hope you had a good rewatch!
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Ivan Goncharov x Female!Reader, Reader is a smoker (it's Scorsese in the 70s, what do you want from me), Forbidden Love, Angst
Warning: None
A/N: Okay, fresh off the rewatch and I've got thoughts. Let's fucking go! (Also this turned into a thing)
Word Count: 676
You thought you were free. You thought Italy meant a new life, away from the turmoil and freezing unforgiving nature of your home country. Here everything was supposed to be warm rolling hills and a fresh start. And yet here you were stuck in a city just as dirty, sequestered in a kitchen just as small, while a man you prayed your left behind ate in the other room.
You had long since given up on eating, the clock behind you ticking down the seconds until you could clear the plates and once again have some reign over your home. Never had you ever wished your brother would just get married already. He could conduct his business under his own roof rather than lay claim to yours. Anything to spare you the humiliation.
The soft click of steps on tile interrupted your thoughts. It was only then you realized just how long you had been staring at the same patch of wall. Your cigarette had almost burned to the nub.
"Are you done?" you asked, not bothering to turn your head.
"Not for a while."
Your eyes widened at the sound of that aching familiar voice. Whipping around you eyes confirmed what your ears told you. Ivan Goncharov was standing in your kitchen.
You swallowed, putting out your cigarette as you slowly rose to your feet.
"Is there a request for seconds? I made plenty," you said, keeping your voice and expression calm.
"No."
God why did he have to look at you like that? It had been ten years. You have changed. You had changed, but one look and you were that same girl melting under the gaze of a handsome boy.
No, you would not fall for this. He wasn't that same boy. You were not that same girl. You were a grown woman and a strange, dangerous man was standing between you and the only way out.
"Then unless you wish me to clear the table, I cannot see why you would be in here."
He took a step forward.
Your instinct was to step back, but you held firm. He held no power over you here. This place was yours. Not his. Not your brothers, no matter how much he pretended it was. You had done your running and now you were going to stay planted.
His eyes trailed over your features searching for something you could only guess at. It was only when you could smell the gentle remains of his cologne did you realize just how close he was.
"I wanted to see you," he said, simply.
You raised your chin in defiance. "And now you have. So your business is done."
His lips pressed into a line, but he remained silent.
Before you could even react, he took a tight hold of your hand forcing your even closer so you were practically chest to chest.
"You're not married," he said, taking special care to touch the bare flesh of your ring finger.
Your expression turn to stone even as your breath threatened to tremble. "And you are."
That, finally, made him look away. He still held your hand, but his grip wasn't as tight. It was touch for the sake of it, one you both longed for.
He leaned in, his nose just brushing against your own. You could feel his breath on your lips. It would be so easy.
"Do you hate me?" he asked.
"Yes."
It was a lie and you both knew it.
He nodded, his eyes focusing all their attention on your lips. "Does pretending make it easier for you?"
"Does hoping make it easier for you?"
He blinked before slowly pulling back, releasing your hand as he went.
"Keep acting like you hate me," he said. "Maybe one of these days we'll both believe it."
He left, leaving you alone once again, cold and in silence. You pulled out a cigarette, focusing on the comforting burn and the subtle ticking of the clock.
One day perhaps you would hate him. You could only hope.
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shadowuponstorm · 2 years
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Come Back Home
Is he? No, he couldn't be, right? God, please let him be safe and unharmed. Please don't allow his name to be on that list of the men who didn't make it back home to their families. Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x Grace "Gracie" Wife!Kazansky (OC, but you can replace it with your name or callsign/nickname!) Word Count: Over 2.0K
Also please don’t steal, copy, or translate my work under any circumstances, I prefer my original work to be on just my page.
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"Grace," I hear come through the receiver, making my heart drop to my feet in an instant, it was Janis, who is married to my husband's RIO and best friend.
"It's okay, it's going to be okay, maybe she's calling with the news our boys were on their way back home unscathed and will be back in our arms soon," I thought to myself before I cleared my throat to respond, "Hey, Janis. What'd I owe for you to give me a call? Are they on their way home from the ship?"
"Yes...but," Janis started to say before I hear her try to take a deep breath, indicating she's been crying, "Something happened, they said there were some casualties, I don't know any more than that. Just that the ones who made it are coming home and nobody can get into contact to find out the names. I wanted to call you before I came to get you."
Hearing that there was a chance my husband's name was among the list of casualties made my lungs feel like something is wrapped around them and constricting them until there comes a point no air is possible. I tried to get a deep breath in but to no avail, each one comes out shaky and unsteady. This day could possibly become one of the worst days of my life.
"O-Okay, see you when you get here," I choked out before I hung up the phone and started pacing the living room, practically burning a hole in the floor. After what felt like an eternity in this zone where time doesn't pass, which was really 30 minutes, a knock came on the door and I opened it to see Janis, with puffy eyes and tear streaks along her cheeks. I followed behind her to get into the passenger seat and after the seatbelts were on, Janis sped off to get to the base as fast as possible, making me brace myself for the speed climbing up steadily on the speedometer.
"Please let him be okay, God, please bring him home safe," I prayed into my folded hands as I listen to Janis whisper a mantra to keep herself calm before I hear her voice her frustration, "Why couldn't they just tell us our husbands were okay? Why did they didn't give me any more information?!"
"It's all, unfortunately, part of the profession as a navy wife, they give little to no details about the mission, the same goes for the results," I mention as Janis grunts out in annoyance as I softly laugh and say, "I've been in your shoes before, remember?"
"Just answer me this, does it get easier?" Janis asked as I shook my head and respond, "It doesn't, but you get used to the waiting, disappointment, and frustration after a while has passed by."
"I can't believe Ron may be dead before we could celebrate our first wedding anniversary," Janis mutters under her breath before I sighed and leaned my head on my hand as I looked outside the car window.
"Hopefully we'll find out soon," I whispered as I feel a tear start falling down my cheek before I mumble, "He can't be gone, he just can't."
After Janis parked the car, the both of us got out of the car and rushed to the waiting area of the base, awaiting what we would come to find. I looked around to try to recognize another face in this room when I hear someone call my name and turned to see it was Merlin's girlfriend, Kimberly, who I also became close with throughout the years.
"Kim," I said as I walked over to her and embraced her before shuddering out a breath and asking, "Any news?"
"N-no, nothing. It's scaring me, how many of us there actually are, awaiting to know if we need to plan a funeral or not," Kimberly whispered as I nodded my head and looked around the room, so many tear-streaked faces and fear-stricken ones.
"I'll go grab us some coffees," Janis offered as she walks away to grab two cups while Kimberly and I took our seats, saving one for her when she gets back. While I anxiously tapped my foot, Kimberly then leans in and whispered, "How have you been doing?"
"I'm currently a nervous wreck, so not great," I murmured as she shook her head and said, "That's not what I meant, I mean with the pregnancy."
I found out shortly after Tom left for 4 month-long mission and have been waiting so long to be able to tell him, but now that reminder is going to start eating away at me. I-If he's really gone, that means I won't be able to. Oh god, I think I'm going to be sick. Which I actually did, causing me to jump out of my seat to the nearest trash can to empty out my stomach like how the morning sickness was treating me. Kimberly followed and started rubbing my back as I respond, "This-this is the perfect representation. Kimberly, if-"
"Don't overthink like that, it isn't any good doing so," Kimberly comforted me as I calmed down and took my seat again before I whispered, "I never told him, I was going to tell him when he came back home. If he's truly gone, it's going to break my heart more knowing he never got the chance to meet our child or know he was going to be a father."
"I under-," Kimberly said as Janis then appeared with the coffee and handed her one while she took a seat on the other side of me sipping hers before continuing, "I understand how you're feeling, but there's still that chance he's going to be back in your arms, safe and sound. There's still that possibility he's still here and will be able to be the best father he can be for your child as well as make more memories with you."
"Maybe more of those will be spent of him and Maverick butting heads with each other," Janis mumbled as Kimberly and I both looked at her to shout, "Janie!"
"What? You both know it's true," Janis rebuts as I rolled my eyes and respond, "Have to agree with that, Maverick certainly seems the type." making the three of us laugh a little before a woman of blonde hair, who I figured was the instructor, walked in to tell us all that the carrier would be arriving any minute now.
After almost an hour, I could hear the roars of the engines and looked outside from my seat to see the carriers landing on the tarmac to nudge Kimberly and Janis to wake up off my shoulders. I got up to walk over to look out the window to spot a few familiar faces and looked back to see all the ladies looking at me like they were scared to find out but wanted me to tell them who I see.
"I see Wolfman, Hollywood, Sundown, Chipper," I called out a few of the names before I turned my attention to Kimberly and told her Merlin looked okay, watching her let out a sigh of relief and whispered, "Thank you God for looking over Sam."
"Do you see Ron or Tom?" Janis asked as I looked out again and tried scanning through the crowd before I shook my head to respond, "Maybe they're on another carrier, or there's so much commotion to truly see them." before walking away from the window.
I spoke too soon when footsteps started walking toward the waiting area to the doors opening to Maverick, with a worried look on his face as he calls out, "Grace? Janis? Are you two in here?"
"Maverick," Janis respond as she and I walked over to him before he put his hands up, stopping us, "They're alive, they're just getting checked out in the med bay."
"What the hell happened out there?" I gritted out through clenched teeth before Maverick gave us the information the Navy couldn't give us, "There were 5 bogeys in the air, they shot down Wolfman & Hollywood, so Merlin and I got sent up there. I-I had a moment of disengagement before I got my head on right and it caused them to have a few hits. We were successful, but upon landing on the carrier, Slider had a crack in his helmet and so did Iceman while he also was holding his wrist."
"Oh god, when can we see them?" I asked as I try to comprehend the information before Maverick offered to take us to them, which we quickly told him. We arrived at the med bay and told the nurse at the front desk our names as well as asked for the room numbers.
"Okay, thank you," I thanked as I made my way through the hallways to the room and knocked on the door to hear Tom's voice come through, "Come in."
I opened the door to see him lying in the hospital bed with his eyes closed and out of the top of his flight suit, which was tied around his waist, and then I saw the extent of his injuries. He had a few bruises, a bandage on his head and his wrist was in a brace.
"Tom," I whispered out as I covered my mouth to prevent myself from making a sound out of shock, which prompted him to open his eyes to see me standing there.
"Gracie," Tom whispered as he got out of the bed and moved quickly towards me to pull me into him, causing me to take in the familiar smell of his cologne and start crying into his shirt.
"I-I-I thought I lost you," I choked out as I tried to remain calm for him, "They weren't telling us anything and I-I couldn't help but-"
"Shh, shh, it's okay," Tom softly whisper into my ear as he sways his body with mine side to side as a way to help calm me down, "I'm still here, I'm not going anywhere, love."
I gripped him tighter as I feel him chuckle and kiss my forehead as he runs his hand through my hair, pushing back a stray strand to then lean close to my lips to say, "I promise." and kiss me softly
"You better," I whispered back before moving his hand to rest on the small, but evident bump, causing him to look down in surprise.
"Are you-, are we-" He stuttered out as I nodded my head and answered, "Found out shortly after you left."
"Can't believe we're going to be parents," Tom responds as he smiles down at me before I returned one back.
"How are Ron's injuries? Do you know?" I asked before he sighed and said, "He should be fine. Just needs a lot of rest and stay on the ground until he's cleared to fly."
"What about you? Anything else wrong?" I voice my concern as Tom shook his head and responds, "I'm truly okay. Just a sprain in my wrist." before we hear someone shout in excitement, like Ron.
"Was that Slider just now?" Ice asked as I nodded my head, agreeing with his thinking to walk out the door to look to see Janis laughing as she's being twirled and then kissed, passionately.
I laugh at the sight, making my presence known to both of them as Slider then shouts, "I'm going to be a dad! To a little boy!"
I smiled and yelled, "Congratulations!" to then walk back into the room and see him laughing, "Hey, he's your best friend and RIO."
"I know, I know," Tom says as he rolls his eyes before looking toward me and asking, "Do you know the gender? I could call a doctor in here to find out."
"Maybe another time, it would be too much excitement for today to take. For right now, I just want to focus on the relief that my wonderful husband has come back home to me and our daughter."
"W-wait, daughter? We're having a girl?" Tom asked as I slapped my hand on my mouth to mentally curse at pregnancy brain for being a thing and before I could apologize, he pulls me in for another kiss and after a few minutes, he rested his forehead against mine to whisper, "I'm glad to be back home with my girls in my arms." Tom then went down to his knees to say, "And you little miss is to go nowhere near that Kerner boy, I hear he's trouble like his dad.", making himself and me laugh until our sides hurt. Oh, he's going to be the best girl dad.
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angeltreasure · 1 year
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Cecilia here, how are you doing? I talked with my Priest who's also my spiritual help person, he seemed to think that I should visit the sisters I went to late last month again once I have enough time off work to do so. I agree with him, I'll contact them again here soon if they don't get back to me after this week. The vocation director is a busy woman after all, and there were a lot of women at the retreat recently, like 50-75 at least. I also broke the news to my mom finally about discerning. It went better than expected, she's just confused more than against it, she was not surprised though since I've thought about religious life before and had tried to tell her. Her biggest hangup is that she might not get grandkids if I don't get married since my brother made it very clear he doesn't want kids. She kept making jokes about the Sound of Music musical saying once I'm a novice I can find a rich widower with like 7 kids and then marry him. I appreciate that it's off my chest with her, but I don't know how to broach the subject with my brother, he's now an atheist in a band out of state in a relationship with a trans woman saying he's nonbinary himself. So I'm not really sure how to tell him I'm wanting to go into religious life. Pray for my family please to come to the faith once more and that they will find it in their hearts to let me explore God's call, along with the repose of my Grandaunt and Granduncle since they passed away last week, we're going to their funeral on Monday both of them were uber Catholic, 101 and 97 respectively. God Bless.
Hello Cecilia!,
I’ll pray for you and all of those intentions! I’ve been good. I am hanging in there. I haven’t told my dad or anyone on my dad’s side yet. I wanted to on Divine Mercy Sunday but something in me said wait. My mom’s side pretty much knows. My mom is for it, and my brothers question if it’s really something I want, while some aunts don’t believe it.
Our bishop just lifted all remaining rules that coronavirus made for our diocese, so I was thrilled when I saw we could have the Precious Blood in Mass!… it will take much prayer. We have a huge parish that keeps growing more and more, it will take at least 80 new volunteers of Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion just for the blood alone to cover all of our Masses! Please pray for us that people eagerly come forward.
On May 27 I’m making my first visit to the cloister I took a ride to, just for meeting up to ask questions. They didn’t offer any overnights yet but we’ll see! The non-cloister also got in touch with me this week, so after their super busy tour of the Eucharistic Miracles displays, they will be reaching out to me one on one from across the country. I still wait for replies from the other two but I look forward to any reply with hope.
My first Rosary with my new materials was better than the Rosary making class! It did fall apart a couple of times, but my I managed to fix it. I presented it to my mom for her birthday because every day she prayers the Rosary…she has so many! One of my aunts wants me to make her one so that’s today’s little project which I’ll take pictures of. Afterwards, I’ll be making them for the poor. All I need is to assemble them and buy larger bags to place them in along with a print out of how to pray the Rosary. I have so many materials, it’s been quite exciting to plan some designs in my head.
I was Lector 1 today at Mass. My pastor gave every ministry tips/training notes. Ours was having a good pause at the end of our reading before saying “The Word of the Lord….”, and he also wants us to dress more modestly this summer. I’m excited for that, so I’ll be shopping around for cardigans and such to cover up more and be more like our lady. I have a ton of veils to mix and match. I’ll have to study next week’s readings too.
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aiorevelations · 2 years
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From This Day Forward: Final Part
Finally after almost a year we are posting the third and final chapter of “From This Day Forward.” And now we can celebrate as we have completed all our WIPs. Now on to some new stories!
Whit stood at the front of the church with Jack beside him. His gaze rested on the church doors as he eagerly waited for Jenny to arrive. His heart raced at the thought of his soon-to-be wife walking through the white doors at any moment. The realness of the moment overwhelmed him. All the waiting was nearly over. He and Jenny would be forever united as one. 
The place they had chosen for this momentous moment in their lives was a small white wooden chapel which was located in a luscious green meadow that looked as though it were taken from a Thomas Kinkade painting. The decorations were simple with baby's breath, white ribbon, and tulle decorating the pews as well as arrangements of white roses, white hydrangeas, eucalyptus leaves, and silvery gray dusty miller adorning the room which was bathed in natural light coming in from the stained glass windows just as Jenny had wanted it. 
Harold and Fiona sat in the front row. Harold was beaming with pride while Fiona was already dapping the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief. In the opposite row, Susannah Morrow sat, an expression of pure joy etched on her face. The doors opened and the sound of Mr. Vargas playing “Here Comes the Bride” on the organ filled the room. 
Whit was overcome with emotion and his heart skipped a beat as Jenny entered the church on the arm of her father. She looked purely radiant with her beautiful red locks and hazel eyes. So hopelessly beautiful in her dress - an utter vision in white. 
Emily and Jack each glanced at Whit and then at each other. The effect Jenny had on their friend was clear for them all to see.
As Jenny came closer, Whit felt himself tear up at the sight of her. Jenny found herself also becoming emotional as she saw Whit wipe his eyes. “Don’t cry, Jenny. Don’t cry,” she whispered to herself. “It’ll ruin your makeup and there’s nothing worse than a bride with ruined makeup.”
Jenny and her father reached the end of the aisle as the song came to a close. “Wow…” Whit began in a soft voice. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he finished, a beaming smile on his face. 
“Thank you, John. You look dashing” Jenny said happily. 
Pastor Hardwick tenderly watched the unfolding exchange. He then stepped forward and asked, “Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?”
“Her mother and I do,” Jerry Morrow replied. He turned to Jenny, tears in his eyes, and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. “I love you, sweetie.”
“I love you too Dad.” 
Jerry turned to Whit. “Make sure you cherish and love her forever. She’s a priceless treasure son.”
“I promise I will,” Whit said with unflinching resolve. Jerry knew Whit meant every word with his whole heart.
 Jerry kissed his daughter on the cheek one final time and placed her hand in Whit’s. He then took a seat beside Susannah. 
Jenny took Whit’s arm and the two of them made their way to where the pastor stood and turned to face each other.
Pastor Hardwick spoke, “Jenny, will you now please pass your flowers, and join both hands with Whit.” Jenny passed her bouquet to Emily. Afterward, Whit took her hands in his.
Pastor Hardwick resumed, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together on this sacred and joyous occasion to witness the union of Guinevere Clara Morrow and Johnathan Avery Whittaker. On behalf of both families, I would like to thank you all for being here on this very special day. Please join me as we begin with prayer.” Everyone bowed their heads and closed their eyes.
Pastor Hardwick began to pray. “Father God, we are so grateful that you, the creator of heaven and earth, love us, care about us, and listen to our prayers. Lord, we ask that you would bless Whit and Jenny today and every day in their marriage. Help them to keep you as the foundation of their lives, and to love one another in good times and bad. We ask all this in the name of Jesus. Amen.”
Everyone then opened their eyes and lifted their heads. Afterward, Pastor Hardwick began the homily. “Marriage is not the invention of man; it is the invention of God. The purpose of marriage resides within the design and plan of God. Your marriage is to honor God because it was created by him and for his glory.”
Pastor Hardwick turned his attention to the wedding attendees. “I would also remind those who have been invited here today, that you are not here as spectators but as witnesses. You have been invited by this couple to witness them pledge their lives to one another in the sight of God, before you, and before one another. Whit and Jenny, as you hear the charge that you will be given today and make vows to another, know that these witnesses have assembled to hold you accountable to God and one another. At this time I will invite Ms. Harris to sing All Things Bright and Beautiful.” 
Ms. Abigail Harris, a petite middle-aged woman, made her way to the front of the church. The organist began the melody and Ms. Harris’ melodious voice filled the church. 
Once she was finished, Pastor Hardwick resumed the ceremony. As he spoke, a multitude of memories about Whit and Jenny flooded his mind. “Whit and Jenny, over the past couple of years that we have known each other I’ve seen you both grow in your faith and your love for one another. I’ve seen you acknowledge both your strengths and imperfections. Be there to comfort each other and lift the other up. Inspire the other and encourage them to pursue their dreams. Even more importantly, I’ve witnessed within both of you a desire to submit yourself to God’s will and allow him to use you both in his service. I have seen your desire to live according to the truth of God's word and reach others for his kingdom. I am honored to be here today not only as your pastor, or as a mentor, but as your friend. When I see the two of you together and the way you look at each other, I can’t help but smile seeing the love you have for each other.”
Whit offered a boyish grin while a blush tinted Jenny’s cheeks. Pastor Hardwick continued, “Now most people, when thinking about love, think about the emotion – the romance of falling in love and the desire to share every moment, and learn everything about this other person. We think of the kind of love we see in movies that usually end with a wedding like this. But love is far more than an emotion. Emotions are fleeting. They are here one moment and gone the next. Anyone who has been married longer than a day knows that the feeling of love, of butterflies in your stomach, comes and goes. Just ask my wife.”
Laughter escaped from the wedding guests as Amanda Hardwick playfully shook her head at her husband’s words.
The pastor resumed speaking, “Marriage is not easy because true love is more than a feeling. It is a choice. There may be times after an argument or a fight that you don’t feel exactly like loving each other. But it is in those times that you choose to love the way God, despite all our shortcomings, continues to love us. As First Corinthians thirteen says, ‘Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.’ As you walk through this journey of marriage don’t just remember these words but carry them out in everything you do. If you put the Lord first and foremost, continue to build your relationship upon Him, and commit yourselves to one another unconditionally - your marriage will grow. You will be able to weather the storms of life, handle the uncertainties that certainly will come your way, and unflinchingly brave any obstacles. Remember these things. Then your marriage will stand the test of time.”
Jenny and Whit carefully considered every word and took them to heart. “Now, as a sign of their promise to one another, Jenny and Whit are going to exchange the vows they have written for one another.”
Jack pulled a folded piece of paper from his suit pocket and handed it to Whit. Whit unfolded his vows and took a deep breath. His heart was racing as the significance of the moment fully hit him. He was now going to recite his vows to the love of his life. Several nights he had been kept awake by terrifying hypotheticals. What if he messed up his vows or stumbled on a certain word? He pushed these negative thoughts to the back of his mind. So what if he didn’t recite his vows perfectly he was getting married to Jenny. She loved him completely and that was all that mattered. “Jenny,” Whit began, “from the time I was fifteen years old I prayed that God would bring the perfect woman into my life to be my wife. When I met you I was captivated by your beauty, sense of humor, and intelligence but most importantly your love for people and God. As we got to know one another and our relationship grew stronger I knew we were meant to be together for all of our days. You have become my anchor, my companion, and my best friend. Each and every day you’ve inspired me to reach for my dreams. When I feel overwhelmed or discouraged you are by my side to encourage me. I vow to always be your protector, and confidant, responsible for making sure your every need is met, every want is reached, and every dream realized. I promise to comfort you during your hardest days and celebrate all your achievements. I vow to be the best father to our future children and to cherish every moment we spend together. It's said that he who finds a wife, finds a good thing and obtains favor from God. From this life we have built to get to this moment, this great moment in our life, looking into your beautiful eyes, I vow to cherish you as my good thing, with love in my heart, to my last breath. I love you.”
“Whit…” Jenny began breathlessly, “that was so sweet. I love you so much.”
Harold wiped the corner of his eyes as seeing his son recite his vows to his future wife filled him with emotion. “Looks like I’m not the only emotional one today.” Fiona chuckled as she passed him the handkerchief. “Doesn’t this bring back memories of our wedding?”
Harold took Fiona’s hand. “Yes, wonderful ones.”
Emily passed Jenny her vows which she quickly unfolded. “John, today, surrounded by all of our loved ones and cherished friends, I choose you to be my husband. You love me and complete me in ways I never knew possible. In you, I have found a partner in life, a lover, a friend, a safe place, someone I can be my most vulnerable with. You support me, inspire me, and encourage me to be the best version of myself. Thank you for embracing me completely and loving me unconditionally. Most importantly thank you for being a God-fearing and devoted family man, I could not have picked a better person to be a father to my future children.”
Now it was Whit’s turn to become emotional again as he heard his soon-to-be wife’s vows. “I promise to listen to you and learn from you, to support you in your endeavors. I promise to be the best mother to our future kids. I will celebrate your successes and mourn your losses as though they were my own. I will love you in word and deed. I will laugh with you, cry with you, grow with you, and always be with you. To be your partner in all of life's adventures is all I could hope for in the world. Loving what I know of you and trusting what I don't yet know, I give you my hand. I give you my love. I give you myself, the good, the bad, and the yet to come. I will love you, my husband, and rejoice in your love for me for all of the years of our lives.”
Whit took Jenny’s hand and pressed it to his lips. “You are everything to me and I’m so grateful God placed you in my life.”
“And I am grateful that he gave you to me.”
“Whit, in the presence of God and these witnesses do you take Jenny to be your lawful wedded wife?” Pastor Hardwick said. “Do you promise to love and cherish her, in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, for better for worse, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her, for so long as you both shall live?
 “I do,”  Whit answered without any reservation.
“Jenny, in the presence of God and these witnesses do you take Whit to be your lawful wedded husband? Do you promise to love and cherish him, in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, for better for worse, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto him, for so long as you both shall live?”
“I do…with all my heart.”
“Whit and Jenny will now exchange rings as a symbol of their commitment to each other. May I have the rings please?”
Jack and Emily handed the rings to the pastor. “These rings are a daily reminder and a public declaration of the promise that you have made to each other. While holding the ring in the air, the pastor said, “Notice the circle of the ring has no beginning and no end. It is an eternal and never-ending circle meant to represent your life-long vow to love each other.”
Pastor Hardwick placed Jenny’s ring in John’s hand. “John please place this ring on Jenny’s finger and repeat after me, with this ring, I thee wed, and pledge to you my loyalty and love, in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.”
Whit slid the ring on Jenny’s finger while repeating Pastor Hardwick’s words.“With this ring, I thee wed, and pledge to you my loyalty and love, in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.”
The pastor passed Whit’s wedding band to Jenny. “Jenny please place this ring on John’s finger and repeat after me, with this ring, I thee wed, and pledge to you my loyalty and love, in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.”
“With this ring, I thee wed,” Jenny continued placing the wedding band on Whit’s finger, “and pledge to you my loyalty and love, in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.”
“As a sign of their commitment to one another, Whit and Jenny will light the unity candle. The individual candles represent their individual lives before they met which they are willingly surrendering in order to become one. As such, their union today is symbolized by the two flames becoming one. Just as God said when he joined the first pair in marriage, a man leaves his father and mother and is united to his wife, and the two become one.”
Whit took Jenny’s hand and led them to the unity candle. Upon finishing lighting the candle the two of them took their place in front of Pastor Hardwick.
“Join me as we ask God's blessing on this new couple.” Whit and Jenny, along with the audience bowed their heads in prayer. “Eternal Father, we now turn to you, and as the first act of this couple in their newly formed union, we ask you to protect their home. May they always turn to you for guidance, for strength, for provision, and direction. May they glorify you in the choices they make, in the ministries they involve themselves in, and in all that they do. Use them to draw others to yourself, and let them stand as a testimony to the world of your faithfulness. We ask this in Jesus' name, Amen.”
“For as much as Whit and Jenny have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and these witnesses, and thereto have pledged their faithfulness each to the other, and have pledged the same by the giving and receiving each of a ring, by the authority vested in me as a minister of the gospel according to the laws of the State of North Carolina, I pronounce that they are husband and wife, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Those that God has joined together, let no man put asunder.” Whit and Jenny gave huge smiles to each other as feelings of elation overwhelmed them at the thought of now being officially married. Each of them waited eagerly for Pastor Hardwick’s following words.
“Whit you may now kiss the bride.”
In one swift move, Whit brought Jenny into his arms. He wrapped his arm around Jenny’s waist while her hands rested on his shoulders. Whit captured Jenny’s lips in a passionate kiss. Jenny brought her hands to the back of Whit’s neck and pulled him in closer, deepening the kiss. Reluctantly, they each pulled away breathless.
Emily handed Jenny back her bouquet. “It is now my great honor to present for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. John Avery Whittaker.”
Cheers and applause erupted from the crowd. Whit and Jenny were absolutely beaming as they headed down the aisle while “Wedding March” played in the background. The wedding guests followed them outside and gathered around the newlyweds on the church steps. Rice was tossed all around them as they entered a decorated red convertible. 
The car sped off to The Mayton where the reception was being held in the hotel dining room. Family, friends, and the rest of the guests followed behind. The room was exquisite with a lovely coffered ceiling, dark hardwood floors, crystal chandeliers, gray floral wallpaper, and one wall made of glass French doors and windows which gave a view of the beautiful countryside. It was furnished with French vintage tufted upholstered fabric dining chairs and round mahogany tables set with white tablecloths, tableware, silverware, and flowers. 
The evening was spent indulging in delicious food, delightful music, and festive dancing. The highlights of the event had been Whit and Jenny’s first dance as husband and wife, them feeding each other a piece of the wedding cake and the celebratory toasts proposed by the closest family and friends. It truly had been a magical day. One Whit and Jenny would cherish for the rest of their lives.
Now later on that night, Whit and Jenny sat at the sweetheart table, completely lost in each other. “I can’t believe we’re actually married now” Jenny began speaking. “If this is a dream don’t wake me up.”
“I was going to tell you the same thing,” Whit laughed as he placed his arm lovingly around his new wife. Jenny relaxed into his touch, relishing the feeling of his skin against hers. 
“Some days it felt like today would never get here but today has been more amazing than I ever imagined. I’m just savoring every moment. Part of me doesn't want this day to end” she said thinking back over the day’s events. 
“Yes, today has been perfect but now we have our lives together to look forward to and all that it has in store - the memories we’ll make, the places we’ll visit, and the things we’ll accomplish side by side as husband and wife” Whit responded as he took Jenny’s hand in his own. 
“As long as I have you in my life that’s more than enough” Jenny lovingly replied. 
Whit and Jenny shared a sweet kiss much to the delight of the guests surrounding them who cheered and applauded. 
After their lips had parted Whit got up from the table. “I’ll be right back,” he said.
“Where are you going? You’re not getting cold feet now are you?” Jenny teased.
“It’s a surprise.” 
“You know I don’t like being left in suspense.”
“We’ll since you’re married to me now you’ll have to get used to it” Whit playfully remarked before he walked away from the table leaving Jenny wondering where he had gone.
Meanwhile, on the dance floor, Emmy and Jack took in the unfolding scene. “Those two are definitely made for each other,” Emily said.
“Yes, they are. Just like the way we’re made for one another.”
“You’re gonna make me blush Jack,” Emily said as Jack gave her a twirl.
“I mean every word of it. You make me happy Emmy. I’m more thankful every day that you’re in my life.”
“I’m thankful for that too. I didn't realize until we got together just how incomplete my life was without you.” 
Jack and Emily smiled tenderly, their eyes clearly showing the depth of the feelings they felt for one another. Emily laid her head on Jack’s shoulder. Jack thought back to the diamond engagement ring he had seen in Ballantyne Jewelers. He imagined herself down on one knee proposing to Emily. It would no doubt be a day they each would never forget. They had both tried to convince others and themselves that they were going to hold off on getting engaged for a little while but after today, seeing Whit and Jack so happy and in love, he knew that day would come sooner rather than later. 
Back at the sweetheart table, Whit returned to Jenny with the surprise in hand and a grin on his face. “I seem to remember my beautiful wife mentioning that she would love to have a chocolate milkshake at our reception” Whit smiled as he presented the sweet beverage to Jenny.
“You remembered?” Jenny exclaimed, deeply touched by Whit’s gesture.
“Of course. How could I ever forget anything about that day?” Whit replied as he set the milkshake on the table. Jenny and Whit thought back to the day of their engagement. After Jenny was discharged from the hospital the two of them searched for somewhere to eat. Every restaurant and cafe was closed except for a small ice cream shop that was nearly out of ice cream. Whit and Jenny split a chocolate milkshake. Jenny, a lover of all things chocolate, especially milkshakes, remarked to Whit how she would love to have one at their wedding reception.  
Jenny took Whit’s hand in hers. “John Avery Whittaker you never cease to amaze me.”
“And I’ll never stop trying.” Whit and Jenny both smiled. He placed two straws in the milkshake and passed it to Jenny. “Shall we dive in?”
Jenny eagerly took a sip and closed her eyes as she savored the delicious flavor. Whit joined in partaking of the drink. After sipping the milkshake for a few seconds Jenny stopped, leaned over toward Whit, and whispered in his ear. “I love you, darling.”
Hearing her words Whit took a break from drinking himself and turned towards Jenny. “And I love you sweetheart.” 
In that moment everything and everyone seemed to fade away as though they were the only two people in the world. Whit placed his hand under Jenny’s chin and brought his lips to hers in a tender kiss. A sweet and romantic gesture he would do countless times throughout their beautiful years of marriage. In the days to come their life together would be filled with moments of unspeakable joy and days of unbearable sorrow yet through it all their hearts would always be overflowing with love.
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almaqead · 6 months
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"Sex, Slaves, Sex Slaves, Men, Menstruation, Marriage, Divorce..." From Surah 2, Al Baqarah, "the Heifer."
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2:221
 And do not marry polytheistic women until they believe. And a believing slave woman is better than a polytheist, even though she might please you. And do not marry polytheistic men [to your women] until they believe. And a believing slave is better than a polytheist, even though he might please you. Those invite [you] to the Fire, but Allah invites to Paradise and to forgiveness, by His permission. And He makes clear His verses to the people that perhaps they may remember.
SO slaving pagans for sex is allowed so long as they eventually pray to Allah. What does this really mean?
Without mixed partnerships and mixed marriages between persons who lack faith and persons who are strong in it, the world is doomed.
As for the slavery part, who doesn't want to be a slave to love?
2:222-232- Marriage, Sex, and Divorce.
And they ask you about menstruation. Say, "It is harm, so keep away from wives during menstruation. And do not approach them until they are pure. And when they have purified themselves, then come to them from where Allah has ordained for you. Indeed, Allah loves those who are constantly repentant and loves those who purify themselves."
Your wives are a place of sowing of seed for you, so come to your place of cultivation however you wish and put forth [righteousness] for yourselves. And fear Allah and know that you will meet Him. And give good tidings to the believers.
And do not make [your oath by] Allah an excuse against being righteous and fearing Allah and making peace among people. And Allah is Hearing and Knowing.
For those who swear not to have sexual relations with their wives is a waiting time of four months, but if they return [to normal relations] - then indeed, Allah is Forgiving and Merciful.
And if they decide on divorce - then indeed, Allah is Hearing and Knowing.
Divorced women remain in waiting for three periods, and it is not lawful for them to conceal what Allah has created in their wombs if they believe in Allah and the Last Day. And their husbands have more right to take them back in this [period] if they want reconciliation. And due to the wives is similar to what is expected of them, according to what is reasonable. But the men have a degree over them [in responsibility and authority]. And Allah is Exalted in Might and Wise.
Divorce is twice. Then, either keep [her] in an acceptable manner or release [her] with good treatment. And it is not lawful for you to take anything of what you have given them unless both fear that they will not be able to keep [within] the limits of Allah . But if you fear that they will not keep [within] the limits of Allah, then there is no blame upon either of them concerning that by which she ransoms herself.
These are the limits of Allah, so do not transgress them. And whoever transgresses the limits of Allah - it is those who are the wrongdoers.
Commentary:
The Quran has the most generous policies towards marriage and divorce of any faith I have seen. Why is this? There are other matters of far greater importance to God.
As we will see in upcoming verses, courtship, preparation for sex, sex itself, pleasing sex, and unpleasing sex and its consequences are important but not mission critical in the fulfillment of the path of Islam.
The ayat, "fear God, keep within the limits" is all one needs to be successful in intimate relations according to the Quran.
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bethanie28 · 1 year
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blessing season 
The enemy loves to get in my head and tell me thats it’s too late too to do the things that God asks me to do.  I believed for years that it was  too late to start that new career, its  too late to break away from unhealthy relationship and even now … its too late to start this blog. Now that being said Hi, Hello, my name Is Bethany Hope. I want to officially Welcome you  to my personal blog. I  Know its the end of the year but I feel a urgency to post today. i use to think my story was unique but really  it isn’t. The things I am going to share on this blog are warning signs to some but are also very relatable to others. So lets get started. 
There’s this terminally called cuffing season is normally used among menials and Gen Zers but everyone participates in this act. Yes even the old boomers and anyone with a pulse.
Cuffing season is done mostly in the fall and winter, it’s the time when people connect themselves  to things that are below their value or convenient for the time being. 
In the urban dictionary cuffing season means “ it’s a season of loneliness and desperation you settle for our relationship that’s beneath your standards” 
This definition uses relationships as an example but its not about just relationships please keep reading. I want to be clear everything has consequence  good and bad.  Being cuffed to anything that is not christ Himself will lead to death in time. For example being cuffed to wanting to getting married  is just as unhealthy as being cuffed to money the little things you do will become patterns and become big problems. I’ll come back to this in a moment. 
 To to make this easier to understand. Imagine my friend coming over to hang out and she  asked me for a quick snack I wouldn’t go to the garbage can to grab her  something to eat. Why ?? Because the garbage can is not a standard for someone to eat from. We all know how ridicules it would be if someone went to their garbage to grab you food. You and I both have a standard when it comes to food. We know no matter what we are not eating out of the trash. This Sanrio may seem like a no brainer  but the “eating trash” is just an example of the real thing we settling in our lives. some examples can be love for money, wanting a relationships and or a successful  career. If you’re a believer or not I want to tell you the things you  are doing in just “for now” knowing its the very thing that is destroying you. you would never settle to eat trash because your hungry even if no one was watching right? keep the same standard in al areas of your life.
Im not off the hook either. Ive been in many situations that destroyed me because I was lonely, inpatient and board. I will open up on this blog about my relationships, difunctional eating and personal insecurities. I have endured lot of pain because of my own choices. Ive been bound up by shame and guilt for years. The "well sees" are never fun.
let this be a blessing season . a season that is a thirst trap or distraction a season that isn't lonely but full of life. Where God pours out peace and direction onto your life. A season that God blesses you so you can be a blessing to others. Do not be fooled by anything. Dont wonder looking for food in the trash cans. what you find is contaminated. Please do not be curious about things of the world. Ask for help, ask for prayer be honest with you self if you need help. Just like you choose what to wear everyday you choose to receive Gods guidance.
I believe everyone who is reading this God sent you to this blog this message is no mistake.  God sees you and he loves you. stand tall and pray that God revels all the areas where the enemy is lying to you. read His word for guidance and rejoice that youre alive today.
read with me   Romans 12 verse 2 Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.
Please let me know how I can pray for you. share is you must but most importantly I love you and God loves you
Bethany Hope
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babybluebex · 3 years
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next week [baron zemo x reader]
summary ↠ you're hired to give a message to a german prisoner, but you never expected to actually take a liking to him. pairing ↠ baron helmut zemo x fem!reader (y/n) word count ↠ 2.9k warnings ↠ explicit language, a bit of nonsexual choking, zemo calls you a bitch a/n ↠ after a week, here she is!! also, if there's demand for it... part 2? until then, enjoy! masterlist/taglist in bio!
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The prison felt cold and unforgiving, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself. You followed the guard down the halls, twists and turns with no hope of remembering the correct way out.You figured that they had designed it that way on purpose; nobody could leave and escape if the way out was a labyrinth. Finally, you were led to a man sitting at a desk. His eyes followed you as you approached, and it was only once you were fully in front of him did he speak. “Name?” he asked in German, and you cleared your throat. Your German was shaky, but would have to do.
“Zemo,” you replied. “I’m here for visitation with my husband.”
The man laughed a bit. “Pretty girl visiting her man in prison,” he mumbled. “Such a waste. Take off your jacket, Frau Zemo.”
You had no reason to be nervous, but you still shook a bit when you slid your jacket off and held your arms out for the necessary pat-down. But, as you pondered it, you actually had quite a lot to be scared of. The past three days had been hell, for sure. It started with a firm knock on your apartment door in your home of New York City, and you had opened it to see a man with a metal arm and surprisingly kind eyes. He had introduced himself as simply James, and he had told you that he needed you to do something for him.
“I know you’re Sokovian,” James had explained. “I found your name on a registry of citizens that were moved to the US following the Sokovia incident a few years back. If you do this for me, I’ll help you get access to the city ruins. You were young when you lost your parents, yeah? I know the feeling. Not having closure is… Awful. Wouldn’t wish it on anyone. But, in order to do that, I need you to do something for me?”
You had looked James up and down. “What is the something?” you asked.
“I have a friend,” he began and gave a little wince. “Acquaintance. Umm, I know someone who’s in a German prison right now, and he’s going to be a big help to me and my business partner. All you need to do is go in and give him a message.”
“What sort of message?”
“‘Winter’s coming soon. Next week, I imagine.’ Has to be that, verbatim; don’t say anything about who sent you or why. I’ve already got the meeting and everything set up, you just need to go visit him and give him that message.”
“What does that mean?” you asked.
James had hesitated for a moment, tapping his metal fingers against the arm of his chair. “It’s better if you didn’t know,” he said. “I need as little people involved here as possible. I would go in and give him the message myself, but I’m kind-of a wanted man myself. Will you help us?”
James had been thorough in setting up the meeting, even going as far as purchasing a gently-used set of rings for you to wear. He told you that this man, Helmut Zemo, had been in prison for seven years for a variety of things, the heftiest being murder. “He was justified, though,” James said, and you pretended not to notice his small “I guess.”
The guard said something into his radio unit, and you caught enough of it to know that he was approving you to enter. You knew nothing about this Helmut Zemo other than what James had told you, only the bare basics. Sokovian, had a family that was killed at the same time as yours. According to James, Zemo wasn’t dangerous. He would be more confused than anything, he told you. But, no matter what Zemo did, if he denied he had in you no right, you had to keep with it and deliver the message in a natural way. You were his wife, and you were happy to see him.
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The light flicked on over the bed, and Zemo gave a quiet grunt of disdain. It was four in the afternoon, and he always asked for the light to be off. Four was when other prisoners were granted visitation, but he had nobody. Stupid light must have accidentally been triggered.
“Zemo!” he heard a guard call from down the hall, and he pulled himself from bed and approached the plexiglass divider that separated him from freedom. “I thought you said you don’t have a wife!”
“I don’t!” Zemo called back, an irritated edge in his voice.
He finally saw the guard turn the corner and approach, and his eyes instantly fixed on the girl that was trailing behind him. She was young, much, much younger than him, and strikingly beautiful. Maybe it was the seven years in jail, but he could have sworn that he was looking at an angel. She seemed nervous, and Helmut focused his gaze on the rings on her left hand. Before he could speak up and correct the guard that this woman wasn’t his wife, she spoke up. “My God,” she whispered in a soft English, her voice heavy with a familiar Sokovian accent. “Helmut, you look… Tired, my love.”
Zemo tried to gauge the woman. She seemed too green to be an assassin, so at least that was something. And she knew his name. How did she know his name? “I am tired, mein lieber,” he sighed, and he pressed his palms up against the glass. She stepped closer and did the same, laying her hands just opposite his, and he examined her rings. Small, simple, unassuming. Props. “You’re so beautiful.”
You gave a small laugh, one that you hoped sounded like a woman whose husband had complimented her. Did he really mean it? Or had he caught onto the act as well? He seemed smart, you had to admit. And he was handsome too. Though his eyes were dull and dark with exhaustion, they were still a lovely brown. His hair was messy but showed hints of ginger in the dark locks, and his scruffy facial hair accented his soft jaw. However exhausted he was, he was still quite the looker. And he was the first full-blooded Sokovian that you had willingly met since the incident. “Can I hold him?” you asked the guard, lowering your voice and tightening your throat to try to feign emotion. “Please?”
The guard blinked slowly, and he nodded. He translated the request through his radio, and, just a moment later, there was the loud buzz as the cell door was unlocked, and it slowly creaked open. You wasted no time in meeting Zemo at the door and throwing your arms around him, and he held you with the strength of a thousand men as you dug your face into his neck. He shushed you gently, stroking your back, and he pressed his mouth to your temple in a fake kiss. “Why’re you here?” he mumbled through gritted teeth, praying the guard hadn’t noticed it. “Who are you?”
“I missed you,” you whimpered into his neck. “I’m sorry, Helmut, but I moved to the States, and I couldn’t exactly tell people who I was or who you were or why I was living in New York alone but married--”
Zemo moved his lips from your temple to your mouth, and he captured you in a slow and deliberate kiss. Whatever game you were playing, he would join. What’s a bit of fun? Anyway, seven years was a long time to not even touch a woman. If he wanted to kiss you, you would let him. According to the stories James had told you about his family, you figured that he deserved it.
You finally pulled out of the kiss and embraced the man once more, and you mumbled, “It’s so cold in here, Helmut. How do you manage?”
“I make do, mein lieber,” Zemo said. “At least you’re here to keep me warm now.”
“Not for very long,” you said softly. Then, you looked over your shoulder at the guard, and you asked, “Ten minutes, yes?”
The guard nodded silently, and you turned back to Zemo. “Well,” you started, breaking away from him and passing your hand over your cheek to wipe up (nonexistent) tears. “Show me your room.”
Zemo gave a small smile and took your hand, the one with the rings, and you pulled you into the cell. You weren’t lying; it was awfully cold. The room was devoid of much of anything, just the bed and a small sink and toilet in the corner. Books were stacked up beside the bed, all dog-eared and torn at the corners, and a small woven mat was in front of the bed.
“You’ve taken good care of them,” Zemo said suddenly, and you looked away from the stack of books to see him holding your hand up to see the rings. “I figured you wouldn’t even wear them after…”
“What makes you think that?” you asked gently. “I married you, I’d never pretend I didn’t.”
“I love you,” Zemo said quickly, nearly interrupting your sentence. “I missed you.”
You nodded silently, and Zemo tugged you into him once more. His arms were tight around your waist, his hand stroking up and down your back, and he laid a small kiss on your neck. Zemo kept his mouth at your pulse point for long enough to gauge just how fast your heart was beating, and he nodded to himself. A spy of some sort. But what did you want?
You looked at the glass wall of the cell, and you saw that the guard had stepped away, and suddenly every piece of James’ plan fell into place in your mind. Like James said, he couldn’t give Zemo the message himself, and it would be weird for someone like James’ partner to come visit Zemo in prison, especially after seven years of absolutely nobody, so someone else would have to do. You, a young Sokovian girl, Zemo’s wife, made sense. But after seven years, what wouldn’t make sense was if the married couple’s first meeting was just a conversation through a wall. No, the only way it made sense was if it was a conjugal visit.
Fuck.
Apparently, Zemo had caught onto this quicker than you had. His mouth on your neck pulled away in exchange for your lips, his hands captured your waist, and he tugged you fully into him so that your bodies were flushed together. Your anxiety made a quick squeak fall from your mouth, and you covered it with a giggle; you were sure that, even though the guard was gone, you were still being watched. “Seven years hasn’t dulled your charms, so it seems,” you said, and Zemo laughed.
“Of course not,” he chuckled. His hands slid up your body, carefully delving under your shirt, and he added, “I haven’t seen you in so long, it’s almost like I’m starting from the beginning.” He pulled out of the kiss, and you saw his eyes canvasing you, and he said, “My name’s Helmut. And yours, beautiful lady?”
“Goodness,” you huffed. “You’ve already married me, silly.”
“Indulge me, mein lieber,” Zemo said. Even though it was an act for the security cameras, he truly wanted to know your name. Maybe, with that, he could piece together why you were there. “Won’t you play my little game?”
You rolled your eyes, but played along. You told him your name, and he gave you a tight smile. “Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he said gently, and you could see that he really meant it. Married or not, you could tell that Zemo-- Helmut-- was grateful for your presence. “Can I offer you a dance, mein lieber?”
You pressed your arms around his neck and laid your head on his chest, and he squeezed you in a tight hug. Softly, he began to hum something in your ear, only for the two of you to hear, and he sighed as the two of you began to sway to his humming.
“Who are you?” he whispered, planting a kiss on the side of your face. “Who sent you?”
You swallowed thickly. You remembered that James had instructed you not to speak of him, and you mumbled, “I can’t imagine how it must feel to be here.”
“What are you talking about?” Zemo snarled, and he pushed his leg in-between yours as an “explanation” for the sudden change in temper. “I asked who you are.”
“Helmut, you have to trust me,” you whispered quickly.
“Trust?” he huffed. “You come in here, lying about yourself, and ask me to trust you? You, the bitch who claims to be my wife? That’s a big ask, sweetheart.”
“I--” you began. You really didn’t want to anger James by breaking from the meticulous plan he had made up, but you were more afraid of the man between your legs at the moment. He was a more urgent threat. You took fistfuls of Zemo’s off-ginger hair and pulled him closer, pressing your forehead against his, and you whispered, “A man came to my apartment two days ago. He said he needed my help, and he told me to come here and deliver a message.”
To the outside onlooker, when Zemo put his hand on your throat, it might have looked innocent. Not truly innocent, but certainly harmless. But it scared you shitless. His fingers were strong, and his thumb dug straight into your windpipe. It hurt, and your throat immediately began to burn with the urge for breath. “I’ll ask again,” he said easily. His eyes were a new sort of dark, not by exhaustion or confusion or arousal, but by rage. “Who sent you here?”
“I don’t know who he is,” you said quickly. “I only know his first name.”
“Which is?”
“James,” you choked out. “Light eyes, dark hair, prosthetic arm.”
Zemo’s grip loosened for only a moment, but then his thumb went back to its place. “He sent you to give me a message, didn’t he?” he asked. “About the winter. What did he say?”
You felt lightheaded, but you tried to stand your ground. “It comes in a week,” you said quickly. “Please let go of me.”
“Why you?” Zemo asked. “Of everyone in the world, why you?”
“My mother was killed in Sokovia,” you said, and fought back the urge to gag. “I only found out because I heard her name on the radio. Her apartment is still there, and James promised me that he could bypass the military blockade and get me there to say goodbye.”
Zemo’s hand fell slack around your throat, then off altogether. He took a small step back, and his eyes fell to the floor as his brain whirred to life. “He lied to you,” Zemo said carefully. “There’s nothing left. Not when I last went, and certainly not now.”
Your heart sank, and you pressed your hand to your neck, right where he had been. “You’re lying,” you said. “Th-There has to be something there.”
“That military blockade is there to keep people from settling on the land,” Zemo said. “Most of it was taken by surrounding countries, but the worst of it was… Is, just barren land. There’s nothing left for you to mourn.”
“How do you know?” you sniffled. “You’ve been in prison for nearly a decade.”
“Because I was there,” Zemo said. “My wife, son, and father were killed there. You wasted your time coming here; James can’t do anything for you.”
You hesitated for a second, then said, “But you can, right?”
Zemo froze. It was momentary, and you wouldn’t have noticed it if you yourself hadn’t said the words that triggered it, but he let out a heavy breath and resumed with the close-quarters dancing, his grip suddenly gentle again. “What makes you think that, mein lieber?”
“I’m not stupid,” you chuckled lightly. “I was young when I lived in Sokovia, but I recognized you when I saw you. Baron Helmut Zemo, locked up in a German prison; how aristocratic is that?”
“I have no power anymore,” Zemo mumbled. Sometimes, he nearly forgot his lineage, especially since the country he served didn’t exist anymore past his memories. “I cannot do anything.”
“Right,” you whispered slowly. “I figured as much... Who is James?”
“A man that I used to know,” Zemo said. “A man that I’ve never been friendly with, which is why I’m surprised that he would seek me out. He didn’t say why he was coming, did he?”
You shook your head, and Zemo laughed humourlessly. “Of course he didn’t,” he mused. “Shouldn’t have expected that… Next week? Guess I have to keep you here, make sure I stay plenty warm, huh?”
“I wish,” you chuckled. “You are rather cute, Helmut.”
Helmut Zemo laughed, the tops of his cheeks going pink. “And you tease me about my charms,” he said, his voice finally above a whisper; suddenly, the act of estranged husband and wife was back. You could easily pass off the bought of anger and crying as Helmut being too passionate, as Sokovians tended to be. “If you don’t watch yourself, Y/N, I might have to marry you all over again.”
864 notes · View notes
nsheetee · 3 years
Text
For Life (109 Steps to You Epilogue)
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read “109 Steps to You” here!
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Genre: epilogue, angst, fluff, soulmate AU Length: 5.4k Summary: Donghyuck and Y/N meet again one year after their last encounter, back at the place where it all started.
a/n: this is for everyone who asked for a part 2, I hope you all enjoy ♡
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this is the epilogue for “109 Steps to You,” please read that fic before continuing!
Haechan walks into the cafe, the scent of espresso hitting him square in the face. He doesn’t have to walk far into the shop to find his two best friends sitting at one of the tables. Silence falls over the table once Haechan orders a drink and the waitress walks away. The three men sit mutely for a bit, looking at their phones or outside the big windows at the people walking by outside, until Haechan draws their attention.
“Huang Renjun, you invited me here and you won’t even say hi when I sit down.” At his ice breaker, Renjun lets out a shy laugh and turns in his seat to pay attention to his friend.
“Hi.” He says.
“Hi.” Haechan says back sarcastically.
“Hi.” Jaemin pipes up from across the table.
Somehow, conversation became a lot easier after that.
Haechan never thought it would be awkward with his longtime friends, especially since it has been only a year since the three of them graduated college and moved on. Jaemin works as an elementary school music teacher (just an assistant, for now) and he shows the guys some pictures of his students, commenting about how so many of them have natural talent. Renjun decided to do the graduate program and stayed on campus.
“What about you, Haechan, what have you been up to?” Jaemin asks and takes a sip of his iced americano.
“Oh… Nothing special. I work at SM Entertainment.” The guys’ eyes widen at the “not so special” news and Renjun almost chokes on his bagel.
“As an artist?” Renjun coughs out.
“No, god no, I write music for them, and they liked me enough to let me produce songs in the future, so they have me a full time job.” Haechan explains.
“Dude, that’s insane. Congrats, that’s what you always wanted to do, right?” Jaemin asks, still looking a bit amazed by his friend’s accomplishments.
“Yeah.. I guess.” Haechan trails off, laughing afterwards and praying someone will have something to say to get the attention off of him.
“Actually, there’s a reason I wanted to meet you guys here…” Renjun sits up straighter, making Haechan and Jaemin glance at each other. “I’m going to marry Mya.”
“Renjun…” Jaemin turns soft, his eyes turning rounder and his bottom lip pouting at the news, making Renjun roll his eyes and laugh. His joy is just at the thought of marrying his soulmate, the one he has spent the past five years with.
Haechan has to swallow down the lump in his throat to congratulate his friend, ruffling his blonde hair and saying something about how he can’t believe Renjun is the first to get married out of the three of them. When Haechan was with you, they were all sure that he would be the one to get married first. Oh, how easily things can change.
“I was hoping you guys would help me? I want to ask her under the bell tower, the same place I asked her to be my girlfriend, but I want to do it at night. I need help setting things up.”
“Of course we’ll help, right, Haechan?” Jaemin asks, looking over at his other friend. Haechan knew that by coming to this small reunion, he would have to face a part of his past, but he decided to come anyway. The past year has been tough, but Renjun has been Haechan’s friend for longer than he can remember, so this is the least he could do.
“Of course,” He nods. “Anything for Renjunie.” He adds a pat on the head with the pet name and Renjun slaps his hand away, giving him a scowl. The two guys would have continued with their play fighting if it wasn’t for Jaemin suddenly standing up, his chair skidding back along the tile floor loudly.
Haechan and Renjun glance up at him, but his eyes are glued to the entrance of the cafe. They turn around just in time to catch a girl stopping in her steps, her eyes focused on Jaemin. It’s been years; her hair is longer than before and she definitely grew up since the last time they saw her, but it’s no doubt Yeji, Jaemin’s soulmate and the one who rejected him when they were teenagers in high school.
“Jaemin.” She clears her throat, looking at the three guys, “You’re all here. Why am I not surprised your friendship lasted this long?” She laughs lightly as she recognizes the group of friends.
“Do you want to sit?” Jaemin points at the fourth chair at their table that has yet to be occupied. Yeji nods slowly and makes her way to the seat, gently sitting down and smiling shyly at the three guys. There’s a silence that falls over the table as everyone sips on their drinks, but the world around them continues on living loudly.
“So, what have you been up to recently?” Jaemin asks and turns to face her.
“Oh, I’m finishing college this year. I go to UOS.” She proudly smiles.
“Oh? We all went there too, we never saw you?” Renjun asks.
“I took a leap year, so I started college after you guys. You probably didn’t see me around because of that.”
“What did you do during your leap year?” Haechan asks, leaning back in his seat.
“I was in the hospital.” When three pairs of wide, serious eyes stare back at her, she laughs and waves her hand at them, “Oh no, it wasn’t anything bad. I found out my immune system is weak and spent some time figuring out what medicine to take and making my body stronger so I don’t get sick easily. That’s why I was gone for part our last year of school, too.” She explains and the three guys unstiffen and nod.
“Is that why you rejected me?” With Jaemin’s sudden question, Renjun and Haechan felt like they shouldn’t be sitting at the table anymore. They glance at each other, both wondering the same thing: should we leave?
“No,” She looks over at her soulmate, and then glances at Renjun and Haechan, “I guess I should explain myself now, huh?”
“Please.” Since Yeji rejected Jaemin, he turned into a different person. His affectionate and compassionate side is still present, but he tended to keep a calm and neutral front during most of his time in college that made some people think he’s a mean and scary person. Haechan and Renjun are very curious as to why Yeji dumped Jaemin all of a sudden, for the sake of their friend, and stay seated to hear what Yeji has to say..
“I only have one mark.” She explains. Jaemin looks at her a bit dumbfounded.
“What do you mean? Where’s the other one?” He asks and glances over her as if trying to find her other mark. Yeji laughs a bit at the question.
“I mean, I was only born with one. I will only have one mark my whole life.”
“There are people like that? What does it mean?” Renjun asks, stirring the melting ice in his drink with his straw.
“It means that your soulmate is also the person who will hurt you the most in life.” Yeji’s sharp eyes glance over to Jaemin, “That’s why I rejected you so quickly. I’m sorry if I caused you pain. I was just young and only thinking about myself.” She explains.
“No, I understand. I think I would’ve done the same thing.” Jaemin nods, and the two of them fix their eyes down and away from each other, Jaemin now knowing the reason for their separation makes him think about the decisions he made over the past few years.
Haechan, however, starts thinking about you. His palms get clammy and his heart beats faster, his mind running through the years and years of memories he has of you.
Where is your second mark?
Has it just been so long that Haechan doesn’t remember anymore, or did he never see it in the first place? Could it be… that you’re like Yeji? One mark, destined to be hurt the most by the person who’s supposed to love you the most. Haechan feels sick. It can’t be.
“It’s rare, right? For people to be born with one mark?” Haechan asks Yeji, and she purses her lips.
“Not really, no. Most people just don’t admit it out loud, since it’s not the norm to only have one mark. If you think about it, the people you love have the most power to hurt you. It’s not that uncommon.” She shrugs, and the table settles into another silence as the three guys think about her words.
Haechan refuses to believe it. You told him everything, you trusted him to the very end. You would’ve told him if you only had one mark, right? On the other hand, Haechan cannot remember ever seeing a second mark on your body— ever.
He begins to feel pain, for you and for what you must’ve gone through while you were with Haechan if this is true. He also begins to feel fear. Fear that his actions in the past are the end-all, be-all to your relationship. Haechan always had hope that you two might be able to work out your problems in the future, until now.
Haechan really hopes he’s wrong. He really hopes there’s a chance, a small sliver of promise of a future left for the two of you.
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“Oh, hey, you got here quick.” You say as you open the door, Mya stepping in through the threshold and into your home. “I’m sorry we had to change plans so quickly. It’s just Mirae got a fever and wouldn’t stop crying…” You trail off as you lead your friend into the kitchen.
“It’s alright, I understand.” Mya smiles, watching you pull two mugs out of your cabinet and pour hot water, the savory aroma of coffee immediately filling the room. Mya takes a good look at you; you have some hair falling out of your ponytail around your face, there’s some sort of stain on your sweater, and you can’t stop playing with the diamond ring on your left hand; you look just like any new mom would.
“So, what’s going on? You don’t usually call me up like this out of nowhere…” You ask once you sit down, mugs on the table between you and your old friend. During your college days, you guys got to be pretty close, but after you graduated it became harder to get in touch due to your busy lives.
“Well, you remember Renjun, right?” Mya begins, nervously sipping on her coffee. You pretend to not notice how her hands shake.
“Of course,” You smile at the memory of Mya and Renjun, “Are you guys doing good?” At the question, Mya sets down her mug and stares into the creamer that swirls through the coffee, her shoulders sagging and eyes dull.
“I think… he’s going to propose to me.” You freeze, your heart suddenly beginning to hammer in your chest. Not because you’re excited by the news, but because your friend looks miserable.
“Why does the look on your face say that’s a bad thing?” Your heart begins to break when Mya lifts her head to show the tears surfacing to the edge of her eyes. You reach your hand over the table to capture Mya’s, trying to comfort her in any way.
“You know you can tell me anything. I won’t judge.” You nudge her to open up. After a moment, she takes a deep breath and squeezes your hand.
“I don’t think I’m Renjun’s soulmate. I think… I’m the opposite.” She admits, biting into her bottom lip. “I think I fell out of love. Soulmates can’t do that, right?” When you shake your head, she sighs and continues, “I think it happened a while ago actually, but I was too afraid to say anything because I still care about him, like a friend. We share a mark, so it could mean I’m the one who’s meant to hurt him the most, but, this is going to sound insane…” She lets some tears fall down her cheeks as she talks, and you can only grip her hand tighter to encourage her to speak.
“I don’t want to. I think I’m supposed to hurt him, but I don’t want to— not at all. How does any of this make sense?” The tears start to fall as she thinks more and more about the situation, why did fate have to be so unfair to her?
You always thought about how unfair it is that there’s going to be a person who hurts you and gets to walk away from the situation without a care. When it comes to Mya and your own story of how you got hurt, you realize hurt is a two way street sometimes. It’s not always malicious and spiteful, hurt can be just as much of a shared emotion as love.
“Hey, everything happens for a reason. Even if it hurts, it’s supposed to hurt for a reason. Or else, why would fate exist in the first place?” You’re not sure if these are the most comforting words you can give Mya at the moment, but she finds some comfort in your logic and nods her head.
“I should go talk to him, shouldn’t I?” When you nod your head, Mya sighs. She dreads having this conversation, even thinking about it makes her scared of how Renjun will react.
“When you have your thoughts in order, go to him and tell him how you feel. No matter what kind of relationship fate assigns you, it doesn’t take away all the time you spent together. It’ll be okay.”
Mya has a lot on her mind as she stands up and makes her way to your door, denying your request of walking her home or calling a cab. As she slides her shoes on, the bedroom door opens and closes quietly. Mya smiles at the man who walks up to you, some bags under his eyes and his light brown hair tousled, not surprising Mya the slightest.
“Is she okay?” You ask as he comes forward, worry lacing your words. The man nods and lovingly pats your head, telling you not to worry before turning to Mya.
“Hey, sorry I didn’t come out earlier to say hi, Mirae was sleeping on me and I didn’t want to wake her up.” He explains while his arm comes around your shoulders and he tiredly sets his chin against your head.
“It’s okay, Xiaojun, I’m the one who intruded. You guys should focus on Mirae, and maybe get some sleep.” Mya manages to smile as she glances at her phone, a message from Renjun reading “Where are you? Come home, I miss you” making her nerves from earlier arise.
“We’ll try,” You comment, “And hey, call me anytime. I’ll always be here for you.” Mya nods, sending a wave and walking out of the front door to walk the long way home. When the door closes, Xiaojun sighs and moves his head to your shoulder, snaking his other arm around your waist to pull you closer to him.
“Y/N… I’m so tired.” He whines, laughing through his words a bit. It sends chills down your spine when his lips brush against your bare skin and his breath tickles your neck. You tug on his shirt, pulling him closer and resting your head against him.
“That’s what happens when a baby is sick.” You sigh, and Xiaojun can already guess the question that’s about to leave your lips. “You don’t regret this, do you?”
Around the same time that Donghyuck left you, Xiaojun found his soulmate. She came into Xiaojun’s life as quickly as she left it, something about backpacking through Central America. Not sharing the same goals and dreams as his soulmate, it left Xiaojun heart broken and lost without the person who’s supposed to be his home.
He needed someone and you needed someone, too. And then it turned from needing the other’s presence to understanding each other in a different way than friends do, and then you realized… You’re in love.
When he decided to love Mirae as if she’s his own, that’s when you knew Xiaojun is the right choice for you. However, that didn’t stop you from wondering if Xiaojun ever regrets his decision.
“You ask that question all the time,” He leans back, his gentle hands cupping your jaw as you make eye contact, “You know I’ll always answer the same way. I never regret picking you.”
Xiaojun waits for the anxiety to leave your eyes before giving you a smile, brushing his thumb over your soft cheek. He wonders how he hasn’t fallen in love with you sooner, you being his childhood friend and all. He knows it’s probably because he has always been waiting for his soulmate and it blinded him from seeing the one he truly loves: you.
When he feels you fully relax into him, he leans in and softly presses his lips to yours. You melt into him instantly, letting him hold onto you as his lips move slowly against yours. The hand on your waist pulls you closer and you hear Xiaojun whine when your nails scratch on his back over his shirt.
You pull away before anything else can happen, and Xiaojun stares back at you with a pout that makes you giggle a bit.
“Maybe we really should go to sleep?” You ask, and Xiaojun nods. He takes one more look at you, that look full of adoration that always makes your heart jump and your face heat up no matter what, and then he leads you to your bedroom for, hopefully, a restful night of sleep.
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The next time you hear from Mya, it’s when you’re walking home from work one evening.
Your phone rings loudly and kills whatever train of thought you were on, pulling you to your electronic device and pressing the answer button.
“Hey, hun, what’s up?” You hum into the phone, stepping over cracks in the sidewalk.
“I think it’s today. I think Renjun is going to propose to me today.” Her words make you stop in your tracks, making some people around you throw a glare at the sudden obstacle in the middle of the sidewalk.
“What? What happened?” You ask.
“He just called me and told me to go to campus, to the bell tower. I just know he’s going to propose.” You can hear the panicky tone rising in Mya’s voice and you feel her anxiety all the way through the phone.
“Didn’t you talk to him about it?” You try to make sense of the situation.
“I was going to when I planned out what I needed to say, but I’m not ready yet. Oh, my god, I can’t go see him. I can’t.” You can practically hear her shaking her head by the sound of her wavering voice. “Please, Y/N, help me. I don’t know what to do.”
“Mya, it’ll be okay. I’ll meet you in the front of the campus and we’ll go in together, okay?” You turn around abruptly, already planning the quickest way to get to the university in your head.
“Wait, what? I just said I can’t go there.”
“Think about it, if you don’t show up then Renjun will know something is wrong and bring it up first. If you do show up, then you can say what you need to first before anything else happens.” You explain as you weave through people on the sidewalk going home. “I don’t think you should drag this out any longer.”
“... Okay, okay, I’ll meet you there.” After saying goodbyes, you end the phone call and send a text to Xiaojun telling him you’ll be late tonight and saying you’ll explain later. You put your phone into your bag and quickly make your way to campus, playing with the ring on your finger out of worry for Mya.
When you arrive, Mya is already at the front gates, pacing back and forth as college students pass by and send her glances. You walk up to her, scooping her arm into yours and looping them together, calmly walking onto campus and towards the bell tower. You clutch your bag closer to your side, thinking about the one place you want to visit before leaving tonight.
“Have you thought about what you’ll say?” You ask quietly, but your voice still startles Mya and she jumps a bit in your hold.
“I can’t even think straight right now, I have no idea.” She grips your arm tighter.
“I believe in you. One way or another, you and Renjun are connected somehow. I think you already know what you have to say.” You ponder out loud.
“How?”
“Because it’s your fate, even if it’s a bad one. Some things in life are hard, but that’s why we can say we live.” Mya doesn’t look any more  relaxed at your words, and you don’t blame her.
After walking for some time, you reach the bell tower. You can already see a figure of someone standing underneath it. The sun is setting behind the clock, and when you walk closer, you can see balloons and some candles lighting up the dimming area. Right before you reach the tower, you stop and let go of Mya’s arm. Giving her one last look of reassurance, you gently push her to Renjun.
You don’t hear exactly what happens next, since you’re standing too far away. But if you had to guess, Renjun noticed Mya and greeted her with the flowers he was holding. For a split second, you felt deja vu. Back when you were just a college student, you saw this exact same scene through a video— same people and same proposal.
There was a point when Renjun’s face changed that you know Mya broke the news. He looked confused and agitated, but most of all hurt. True pain breaks over his face, you can even see it from where you’re standing. You’ve never seen someone hurt by the one who is fated to bring them pain until now. Renjun looks like he could crumble into the asphalt and roll away with the wind, and it would still hurt less than standing there, hearing the words of betrayal from the one he thought was his soulmate.
You sympathize with him. It’s almost like you can feel that same feeling, like muscle memory in your heart forcing you to remember what it feels like to be hurt that way.
When Mya turns and walks away, you see the pain on her face too. When she passes you, she moves quicker than you and you aren’t able to stop her, only watching her walk towards the entrance of the campus.
You turn to look at Renjun, your heart seizing in surprise when you see two other familiar faces: Jaemin and Donghyuck.
He looks like he hasn’t changed one bit, but at the same time he isn’t who you remember. His hair is still that golden shade of brown, falling over his ears and down the back of his neck. His clothes look the same, his posture is still a bit hunched as always, but his eyes and his gaze look different as he stares back at you.
You aren’t sure why you’re still standing there, you don’t have anything to say to your three old college friends, so you politely nod at them and turn around, walking further into campus. You walk next to the buildings you used to know so well, your feet guiding you to the place your heart wants to go to the most.
You pull out your phone and start calling Mya. Once, twice, and after the third time, you send a text asking her to pick up the phone. There are so many places she could’ve gone, and you could probably catch up to her if you turn around and run, but your feet don’t listen to your brain and carry you to the place you’ve been yearning to see again since the second you stepped into campus.
The staircase looks the same as it did 5 years ago. You have changed, so has Donghyuck, but this staircase remains stagnant in time. The trees on the left side still sway over the stairs peacefully and the cracks in the stone wall on the right seem to not have changed either. You immediately feel comfort upon seeing this steep set of stairs, slowly starting to walk up while putting your phone into your bag.
One, two, three, four, the fifth step a little longer, then repeat.
When you reach the top, the air feels slightly cooler and you close your eyes for a moment. Not for too long, though, because you hear your name being called from the bottom of the staircase.
Donghyuck manages to catch your attention with his loud voice, his figure looking small. You stand in your spots for a bit longer, the sun setting behind the trees and the wind nipping at your nose. Until, suddenly, Donghyuck starts climbing the stairs.
One, two, three, four, every fifth stride a little longer, one hundred and nine times until he’s on the step right before yours, glancing at you through his hopeful eyes.
“I knew you would be here.” He’s slightly out of breath, but the cheekiness in his voice is still evident.
“I knew you would find me.” You say back, making him smile a bit, “But, I’m not sure what for. If it’s about what Mya did to Renjun, I don’t think that’s my place to explain.”
“No, there’s something I’m curious about. Actually, there’s so many things I want to know about you, but I have a feeling you won’t tell me everything I want to hear.” He bites his chapped lip, shoving his hands into the pockets of his oversized jacket. “Will you let me ask you a question?” The look on your face tells him to go on.
“Do you only have one mark?”
You cock an eyebrow, “It took you this long to figure out?”
He laughs, not out of humor but out of disbelief, and looks at his shoes. “I can’t believe it. All this time…” he mumbles and kicks the step he’s standing on. When he lifts his head to look at you, you’re surprised by the tears lining his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” Your heart still hurts to see him in pain, even after everything, your soulmate connection is still strong.
“For hurting you. You knew what would happen all along, you knew how we would end up, but you still stayed with me. I’m so sorry that I couldn’t do anything to save us.” He sniffs, one tear falling down his eye. He tries to wipe it away quickly, but you still see it. Something in you pulls you towards him, something telling you to comfort him, but you hold back.
“It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s in the past now.” You bite your lip in thought as he nods, “Where did you find out about single-marked people?”
“I ran into an old classmate. When she explained it, I realized it sounded just like what happened to us—”
“What you did to me.” You quickly correct him, making the pain on his face fade away and a cold look present itself on his features.
“Hey, I know you understand why I did what I did.” He rebuttals.
“Just because I understand doesn’t mean I’ll forgive and forget.” You taunt back, feeling anger and irritation rise. You decide now is the time to walk away, talking the first step down the stairs where Donghyuck is standing. He stops you with a strong grasp on your left wrist, turning you to him and looking you straight in the eye.
“One more question. Whose ring is this?” He holds up your left hand to his face, eyeing the diamond that shines as he tilts your hand back and forth. His thumb rolls over the dragonfly that paints your hand, his identical mark peeking out of his sleeve and touching yours as he examines the ring.
“Xiaojun gave it to me.” Donghyuck flinches at the name, looking between you and your hand.
“Xiaojun…” He repeats, the name feeling heavy on his tongue, “Good. He’s a good guy.” You can tell how hard it is for him to get those words out of his mouth, as if he’s saying the words out loud to convince himself rather than just commenting. You gently try to take your hand away, but Donghyuck grips onto it more, dropping your hands down between you two.
“Wait, one more question.”
You sigh restlessly, “You said that about the last question.”
“No, seriously, this is the last one.” You pause for a moment to compose yourself before nodding slowly, signaling him to go ahead and ask.
“Will you ever be able to do it? To forgive me, and to forget what I did?” His voice holds so much hope you’re almost afraid of talking, since you know your words will break whatever last piece of expectation he has left. You gently take his hand, stepping closer to him to slide it into his jacket pocket. You wipe some pollen off of his shoulder, looking him in the eyes afterwards.
“One day, when we’ve found our place in this world and the pain we gave each other is just a distant memory, I will forgive you. But I’ll never be able to forget how you left me when I needed you most. In this world where love is chosen for you, I turned my back on fate and I chose love. It’ll never be the same as when I was with you, but that’s not what I need. I need someone who will love me— someone who will stay when things go good or bad. Someone who will stay for life.” You explain, “And actually, I’ll start forgiving you now.”
You dig into your bag, finding your wallet and producing a photo from one of the slots that’s supposed to be for a card.
“This is Mirae. I can already tell she’s going to have your eyes and your hair when she grows older,” You can’t help but smile, watching Donghyuck’s every emotion as they move through his face. Surprise, fondness, instant love. “We’re always going to be tied together from now on. Not because of this,” You point to the dragonfly that’s imprinted on his hand, “But because of her.” You point to the picture that he’s gripping tightly.
Donghyuck looks at the photo for what seems like hours. The little girl in the photo is laughing at someone behind the camera, holding a rubber duck in her small hands. She's a perfect mixture between you and Donghyuck, and you’re right, she does have his eyes.
Donghyuck has never felt this much regret in his whole life.
“I have to go,” You say, pulling out your phone when you hear it buzz in your bag to see Mya calling you, “But don’t be a stranger. I never changed my phone number.” And with that, you walk down the stairs. When you get to the bottom, Donghyuck watches you turn and wave to him before disappearing behind the stone wall.
He grips the picture in his hand, not able to look away from his daughter who stares back at him with the same eyes. The sunset has ended and Donghyuck eventually makes the slow walk back down the stairs to find Renjun and Jaemin.
He keeps looking at the picture the entire walk back, thinking about the choices he made when he was younger. He realized he cared a lot about what his marks made him; the sunflower on his knee made him a stranger to his father, and the dragonfly on his left hand made him a stranger to his daughter.
Even though he thought he took the cautionary steps, in the end, he ended up exactly the way he never wanted to be— like his dad
The marks on bodies help guide people to their fate, but there is more to life than fate. Sometimes, you have to take destiny by the reigns and pull it your way. And with this picture— with this new chance to begin again, Donghyuck will do just that.
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imagineyouandharry · 3 years
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Gypsophila (H.S)
Summary: Prince Harry has been under great pressure to find a wife, and he finds his Queen in a way far more unconventional than he could’ve imagined. 
Words: 5,730
Warnings: It’s a bit strange I guess? Idk lol.
A/N: Someone requested a Prince!Harry au forever ago, and then I didn’t really have an opportunity to write for a while, and then this idea sprung up on me and I’ve been lost in this little au for the past few days. It’s like a little twisted fairytale, taking inspiration from Snow White and Sleeping Beauty mostly. Part two is already a work in progress. If people are interested I’ll even put out a little sort of world building lore post with a map of the kingdom etc (I’ve been in DEEP). This part is a bit choppy and barely edited because I was just so eager to write it and get something out, but I would really appreciate any constructive criticism and editing notes! TYSM!! Long story short, enjoy!!!
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Harry Edward Styles did not believe in true love, in fact, he thought it was the most ridiculous idea ever. Harry’s certain he’s laid eyes upon every eligible young lady, from his kingdom and the ones surrounding, and he hadn’t felt a single thing when looking at any of them. He prayed every night that he would find his love the next day, and finally be able to put his parents out of their misery and ascend to the throne. At the age of 27, Harry’s the oldest person in his family to not be married, no one every waited this long in the royal family. He would’ve had an arranged marriage at 21, though when his parents suggested that he ran away on a sailing ship for two months. One thing was clear to him: though he may not have experienced love yet, he wasn’t going to ruin his chances at true by being forced into a loveless marriage. It wasn’t only Harry’s parents, but the entire kingdom that woke each day hoping to hear that their Prince had found his Queen. They referred to Harry as the Good Prince, his subjects adored him, and lived for his acts of charity and selflessness, and they only hoped he would find a Queen that would treat them the same.
Harry’s outlook on love changed however, after his most recent hunting trip. Sundays are for family and hunting, that’s what Harry was always told. No day was for Harry, he’d come to learn that. Living under a microscope meant for very little alone time, and almost no guilt-free alone time. He and his hunting party rode across the fields and out to the dense forest surrounding the kingdom, and over the two hour journey Harry found himself agitated with the topics of conversation going on around him. He wanted a break, tired of everyone only ever speaking about royal duties or politics. Harry had discovered a fresh water lake if he went off the trail, and when he realised they were edging closer to his favourite place he decided to excuse himself with the excuse of needing to fill his canteen.
The natural spring was a hidden treasure indeed. Harry’s entire kingdom was cut off from the rest of the world due to the thick forestland surrounding it. There was only one trail in, and one trail out, and even then only experienced riders were able to make the journey. The end of the trail, in the deep of the forest, was also often lined with thieves and outcasts making it not the safest journey. This spring wasn’t necessarily hard to find, however thick trees that lined the main trail hid the spring, the gorgeous wild flowers, and clearing of soft grass either side. Harry tied his horse to his usual tree, softly parting the bushes careful to not cause any permanent damage, and stepped his way through. His kingdom was full of hidden treasures like this, tucked away in places only to be found by those adventurous enough.
The sound of the running water was most prominent, however the closer he walked to the spring, the more he could hear a faint, delicate singing voice. Harry couldn’t recognise the song, but it was one he’d never forget now. It felt as though his heart dropped in his stomach, and he had to lightly scratch his arm on a branch to double check he hasn’t died and was hearing an angel of heaven sing to him. He walked closer, with quiet footsteps so not to disturb the singing. He knelt down to the edge of the spring and began to fill his canteen, looking around his eyes eventually focused on the source of his siren, standing in the clearing over the other side of the spring as she picked a bouquet of dainty flowers. Lavender, daisies, bellflowers, poppies. Her body was dressed in sage green, the simple dress showed she definitely was not from a wealthy family, but it was simple and beautiful in its own way. Perhaps she sewed it herself, it did look as if it were made for her. He could see her hair shine from here, and the features of her side profile were striking him even from a distance. She didn’t look real. The strange girl across the spring looked ethereal, like her beauty was too surreal for this planet. Had he hit his head? Was he seeing a forest fairy? He hadn’t even realised the staggering increase in his heart rate as he watched the girl, and listened.
He lost track of how long he had been watching her for, snapped out of his daydream when he heard a “Your Royal Highness! We must be getting on!” Harry heard shouting at him from a distance, most likely back where he had tied his horse. The girl had heard the faint noise and her eyes shot in Harry’s direction. His cheeks flushed with heat as their eyes met only for a brief second, before she ran away. The eye contact brought a slight curve to his lips, although she was leaving, at least he got another good look at her.
“Wait!” He called as he stood up, his hand and canteen dripping wet. His eyes softened as she simply left, looking back briefly in her stride, but he’d blown it. “God fucking damn it.” He cursed under his breath as he began to trudge back to his horse, his feet weighing heavy on the ground.
That was the most he’d ever felt, looking at the stranger across the lake singing as if it were for him, and he couldn’t help but feel like he’d just lost his future Queen. Half of him wanted to wade through the water and run after her, but Harry wasn’t a often disobedient Prince, when one of his parents or advisors told him to jump, his usual response would be “how high?” It’s ironic how for someone who’s whole life depends on finding his future Queen is given so little time to actually explore a social life, or love life himself. He was always set up with suitors who his parents found best. In the rare times he’s able to sneak away he’d gotten around, and most definitely wasn’t a virgin, but he’d never found a girl who had made him feel the way he wanted to feel about his future queen. He only wanted to please his family, and his realm, but this was the one thing where he refused to compromise.
Y/N was as far away from a future queen as it could come, or at least that’s what her step-mother wanted everyone to think. The entire town hoped to marry their daughters off to the elusive Good Prince Harry, however her step-mother only wanted her biological daughters to have that chance. When Y/N’s father passed away her step-mother sent her out to live as a recluse in a tiny cottage in the woods, she had always feared that her beauty would distract future husbands away from her actual daughters, and didn’t want to ruin their chance of being married. Each Sunday she drops Y/N off the supplies she needs, but that was the only human contact she was given. It wasn’t too bad, she managed to keep herself busy with sewing, baking, or whatever other art or craft she could think of and had the materials for. It was lonely though, and she was ultimately alone.
Well, if you don’t count forest fairies. Y/N hated being outcast into the forest, and spent most of her early months in the cottage crying to whatever wild animal she could find that day that would stick around long enough. Eventually, these wild animals started bringing their fairy friends along with them. They would spend their days with Y/N tending to fruit and vegetable gardens, watering plants, having picnics, and making daisy chains. Her life was simple, and although not one she asked, it was one she was growing fond of. Male company was something she could only imagine and long for, or read about in story books. There were dozens of fairies living in the forest, but she’d become particularly close to a group of some of the female fairies.
Each Sunday before her step mother visits, Y/N will pick her step mother a bouquet of flowers in attempt to win her over, in hopes maybe one day her sweetness will earn her way back into town. Y/N had total obliviousness towards her step mother’s plan, and towards what was going on in the city. This year, any woman over the age of 21 was to present herself to the Prince. Y/N’s 21st birthday fell on the day she was scheduled to be presented to the Prince. The letter had been delivered shortly before she was sent away to the forest, Y/N never laid her eyes upon it though. The letter outlined the royal guard would be coming to collect anyone who failed to present themselves on the day, and to Y/N’s step mother that meant the only option was to make it so Y/N never turned 21, or made it to her birthday for that matter.
Seeing the Prince most definitely did spook Y/N during that day in the field, if her step mother ever found out she’d had contact with a male there was no chance she’d ever be allowed to move back home. She did all she could think to do. She ran. She ran so fast that the petals of the flowers she had picked were ruined in her haste, quickly shutting herself inside the cottage to gather herself before her routine afternoon visit from her step mother. Sure she knew of men to be dangerous and terrible, but she feared her step-mother’s wrath more than anything any man could put her through.
Like any other Sunday, she scrubbed the house and dressed herself in whatever new garment she had stitched herself this week. The fairies had been busy this week and she’d had a great deal of time to herself, embroidering colourful flowers into the soft white linen of the new dress she had made. Her step-mother would bring her fabric and thread to sew dresses for her step sisters. It was something to be proud of, but most likely would be over looked. Little was said upon her step-mother’s arrival, but her character seemed off. Her step-mother’s eyes darted around, checking windows as she insisted on making the two of them tea. Y/N sat down at the small dining table, recounting tales of her week, ensuring to leave out anything about fairies or a boy. She watched a small bunny outside the window, forgetting to speak as awe overwhelmed her whilst she watched its tiny nose twitch. Her daydream came to an end when the sound of the ceramic mug hit the hard wood of the coffee table. “Drink while it’s warm, my love.” Her step-mother told her, sitting down in the seat at the head of the table beside Y/N. It wasn’t long after that that Y/N hit the floor, and her step-mother was shrouding herself in a hooded coat and sneaking out of the tiny cabin.
Elsie, a fairy most close to Y/N, who specialises in healing, came to the conclusion that she was only out for about six hours before the fairies found her. They did all they could over the following weeks to bring her back to life, trying as many possible rituals, potions, and spells to give life to her body once more. Nothing was of use though, and instead they decided to preserve her in a glass case in the clearing amongst the wildflowers. She had professed to them that the clearing by the spring had been her favourite place, so they saw this fit. Preserving her in the glass case was simply because the idea of her beauty decaying away made any of the fairies shriek. Fairies never communicated with humans, however Y/N was different. Elsie had always theorised that Y/N had magic in her blood. Amongst the many spells and rituals they tried to bring Y/N back, they threw in a spell that would hopefully bring her back with true love’s kiss. It was like a safety net, or a ‘what if?’ But they eventually tired and wore out, preserving her was well enough for now. They kept her dressed in the new dress she had crafted for herself, it was so beautiful after all. They had placed tiny baby’s breath flowers throughout her hair, and made sure everything was perfect. They even went as far to adorn her in delicate gold jewellery, with beautiful crystals of all colours. Her body rested upon a large rectangular slab of rose quartz.
****
Harry was dreading sitting in the throne room, while all the eligible females from the town were presented to him like livestock. It made him sick, and left a terrible taste in his mouth. All he could think of was the girl from the clearing. Is she a sign? Is he his ticket out of here? Was seeing her fate? Questions like that simmered over his mind and kept him awake at night, he had been sleeping little and finding it hard to focus on his duties. His best friend Niall was he closest confidant, the only one he had told about the beautiful girl in the clearing that day. Niall cared more for Harry than anyone, really. He didn’t just care about his fame or power or wealth, Harry was his best friend and he hated seeing his best mate so down about his love life and the pressure to marry a woman he doesn’t love. He made it his mission to find the woman, and his detective work lead him down a path he didn’t expect at all. First he went to the clearing where Harry filled his water in the spring, that was where he first noticed something over the other side of the spring that he couldn’t quite make out. He followed the spring and found an area narrow enough to cross, making his way to the structure he’d seen earlier. He didn’t know what to make of this discover, a dead girl in a glass coffin. ‘Forever at rest, only to be woken by true love’s kiss’ read an inscription on a gold plaque. He really didn’t know what to make of this. He didn’t know what to tell Harry.
Sweat lingered Niall’s brow as he made his way back to the castle to find Harry, to tell him of his discovery. “Look… I just need you to come with me and tell me what you think when we’re there.” Niall tells him, his voice somewhat breathless. Niall himself was still in disbelief, shock, his eyes wide as he shook his head. “I just- I don’t know what to tell you. You need to see it for yourself.” He adds.
Harry nods. “I’ll come immediately.” Harry tells him, his trust for Niall outweighing anything else going on in his head. Together they rode to the forest, crossed the narrow part of the spring, and towards where Niall had discovered Y/N.
“Is this the girl you were talking about?” Niall asks, however when he looks from the girl to Harry, he knows the answer. Harry couldn’t help but fall to his knees, pressing his palms against the glass as he looked inside. He noticed how long her eyelashes looked, and the freckles on her nose. His nose was almost touching the glass as he leant here on his knees at the side of her, taking her in up close.
“What happened to you?” He whispers, his eyebrows knitting together. Niall gives him a moment before he decides to mention the plaque at the foot of the structure.
“It uh, says something weird about being awoken by true love’s kiss. I don’t know if it’s true, and it’s revolting to think you would kiss a dead body for nothing, but someone has put her here. Someone made this. My grandmother in her old age would mutter stories about forest fairies and their magic… It just makes you wonder, you know?” He ponders, his eyes wandering away. It felt silly to bring up magic, it was something very commonly dismissed.
“Help me get this off.” Harry said as he brought himself from the ground, the soft grass had left green stains on his tan riding pants. He pushed the sleeves of his white linen button down up past his elbows, and the two men carefully lift the heavy glass case up off of the rose quartz Y/N had been resting on. It wasn’t easy, and the glass at the bottom dug into Harry’s fingers before they set the glass piece of the structure down on to the grass. “Alright. Here we go.” Harry said, in attempt to psych himself up for kissing a dead girl. She didn’t look dead though, just sleeping, you could only tell she was dead due to the missing rising and fall in her chest with her breath. “I might start walking back to the horses, give you some privacy.” Niall said, giving him a slight smile. He also didn’t really want to witness someone kiss a dead person, if she didn’t end up waking up.
“Good luck. Take your time.” He adds, part of him had no doubt it was going to work though. The stories his grandmother would tell him of the forest fairies were something he’d always held on to, those stories were amongst his most treasured memories. He’d always had some hope.
Harry waited until he could no longer hear Niall’s footsteps before he leant down close to Y/N, brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear. He took a moment, if this never worked it was going to be the last time he’d ever see her. He couldn’t fathom coming back to this spot if this didn’t work. His heart began to ache at the thought, it made his chest feel tight, and gave him the urge to rub at the spot.
“I really hope you’re who I think you are.” He whispers as he looks down at her. “This might seem like absolute madness. I don’t even know your name, but if you wake up for me, I swear to you I will be yours forever.” He began, to Harry this almost did feel like a ritual, it felt special, and the words he was speaking were amongst the most genuine he’d ever given life to. “I promise, I will protect you. I will provide for you. I will love you. I will never, ever harm you. I will love you until my very last breath, I just need you to do this one thing for me.” His voice was barely a whisper now, and breaking as hot tears welled in his eyes. He very carefully leant down, pressing his warm, puffy lips against her cold, smooth ones. He didn’t know how long to wait, but it didn’t feel wrong. It was a sweet, tender kiss. His eyes closed, and he felt at peace. It felt more than at peace. The long grass, wildflowers, and tree branches that surrounded them began to stir with wind, petals floating up into the gusts that took them. This girl had a tendency to make him feel like he’s dead and in heaven. Her lips slowly began to warm, and skin began to glow with heat. It felt like they were floating, as if the universe was made up of just the two of them. The flowers beneath him began to grow taller and more dense, and it began to feel like his heart was pulling towards hers. It felt like a tether had been formed, connecting their energy, he could feel as her heart began to pump blood again, and her energy radiate from her skin. It felt too surreal.
Slowly, Harry removed his lips to allow Y/N to breathe. He let a hand lay gently resting on her cheek as he watched her gasp for her first new breath, eyes shooting open as she looked up at him. It wasn’t shock she was met with when her eyes met Harry’s, but peace. The luminous green eyes that were gazing down upon her were like lighthouses, guiding her towards safety. So many questions began to race her mind as she came to reality, unable to decide which one to ask first. As if based on intuition, Harry decided to speak. “I uh- I’m not too sure what happened to you but my friend found you here today and brought me to you. I believe I saw you a few weeks ago, in the same spot. I’m not sure how long you’ve been out here, but there was this little plaque at the end of this thing here, that said something about a kiss to wake you up… I’m sorry for kissing you without your consent, but I couldn’t risk not taking this chance.” He didn’t mean to ramble or to overwhelm her with his spiel, but he was overwhelmed himself with everything that had just gone on. True love’s kiss. His queen. His true love. The other half of his soul, in human form. Y/N’s lips parted as if to speak, but nothing came out. She closed them once more as she sat up and looked around, swinging her legs off the side of the marble before looking back up to Harry. Her movement had disconnected his hand from her face, and they both longed for each other’s touch once more already. Her eyes began to well with tears as she began to think about how she got here, her last memories.
“I can only assume how overwhelming this must all be for you… We can stay here as long as you need, it’s just us. When you feel ready for it, I can take you back to my home and we can get you showered and fed. I don’t mean you any harm.” Harry doesn’t even need to add that last sentence though, because she can feel it. She can feel his love for her, she could almost hear it if she listened closely enough, as if his heart was now beating a song for her.
Harry stood back, as if to give the doe eyed girl some space. She looked at him as if he was the most precious treasure on Earth, he’d never felt so overwhelmed with love. This was followed by her delicate hands reaching out, taking ahold of his as she brought herself to stand in front of him. “Is it alright if you hold me for a second?” She asked softly, needing time to process things.
It had been so long since she had been touched affectionately, she couldn’t really remember it. Her father was never affectionate, nor her step mother or step sisters or anyone else she’d met. She felt comfortable with the stranger in front of her though, and didn’t have the energy to resist the magnet like force pulling her towards him.
“Of course.” He responds, his voice soft as he wraps his arms gently around her frame, pulling her into his warm figure. Harry was like the perfect, giant teddy bear… but he wasn’t really that soft. Pressed against him she could feel how chiseled his features are. Her arms wrapped around his waist as she relaxed into him, cheek against the skin of his chest kindly revealed by the first few buttons of his shirt being undone. “What’s your name?” He asks, tangling his fingers in her hair to lightly rub his fingertips against the tender skin at the back of her neck.
“Y/N Y/L/N. Yours?” She asks, looking up to the tall, broad man.
“Harry.” He decides on leaving out his royal title or last name.
“Just Harry?” She asks, her eyebrows raising.
“For now. We have plenty of time to talk about me later.” He notes, removing the same rogue strand of hair as before from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. It was almost as if her hair had a life of its own, breathing, like the other flora growing in the forest. He had noticed the baby’s breath in her hair, though her hair moved, they remained in the same places, as if growing out of their place on the strand of hair. “What do you last remember?” He asks, needing to know if whatever put her in eternal sleep had been by accident, or as an act of malice. She looks back away from his face, resting her cheek once more against his chest.
“My step-mother, Styephania came over, she made me tea. That’s all I can really remember.” She said, unable to stop the disappointed sigh from escaping her lips. Maybe she’d had a freak health accident, like a stroke. Just because she’d been mistreated by her step mother her whole life, didn’t mean she was capable of murder. She knew her step mother didn’t put her out here though, this was the work of fairies. They were looking on, hiding in the bushes as they stood witness to young love blossom in front of them, not wanting to disturb the two of them. “I look crazy, and it sounds crazier saying this, but I’m certain the forest fairies are responsible for looking after me and putting me here. The day she came over was the day I think you saw me here, and I’m not sure how I’m meant to feel but I don’t feel like I’ve been a dead body since then. I feel like no time has passed at all.” Harry avidly listened to her speak, her voice like caramel, seeping in his ears and warming his whole body. Harry wasn’t phased by her mentioning fairies, Niall had suspecting this being their work earlier. It was the only explanation Harry could think of. He couldn’t understand why her step mother would leave her here, why she wouldn’t find her help.
He didn’t want to worry his sweet girl now, he wanted to make sure she felt alright, safe, and cared for. His grip on her wasn’t too tight, but firm in a comforting way. “The plaque… It mentioned how you’d only be woken by true love’s kiss.” He figured the longer he waited to tell her the stranger it would be. His cheeks were red, as if embarrassed or ashamed to tell her about the plaque, how strange it all was. Her eyes met his, and the connection gave him whiplash. He couldn’t peel his eyes away, getting lost in the little pools. He wanted to know everything about her, what she liked, disliked, what she ate for breakfast, her favourite songs, flowers, secrets. Everything.
“I don’t know if I know what love feels like. The only men I’ve spoken to are all twice my age. I wasn’t really allowed to see boys. You’re definitely much, much more beautiful than I would’ve imagined a man to be, and I’m certain that my heart is literally beating for you now, since you woke me.” She tells him, the descriptions of heroes in stories she would read, or how she would imagine the older men to look when they were younger, were incomparable to Harry. The compliment made his cheeks flush. With each beat of her heart, it was as if it was pulling her closer to Harry, calling out for him, begging for him to love on her and soothe the ache in her chest.
“How has God made something so sweet?” He mumbles, he hadn’t even realised he’d said it out loud at first. “You’re breath taking. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes upon, and trust me when I say I’ve seen a lot of them. Even from far away, the first time I saw you… You make me nervous. You make my heart race, and my palms sweat, and I get butterflies in my stomach and nervous when I think about saying the wrong thing or not having you like me. It’s as if you’ve been carved by God himself, like he was showing off when he made you so beautiful. I wish I’d met you sooner.” Those last words burn his throat, how easier the last few years would have been if he had just been able to find her sooner.
*****
Harry sent Niall back to the castle first, having him instruct everyone to clear out the path that the Prince and his soon to be queen would take to his suite, he didn’t want to spook her with people around. The guards had to stay though, non-negotiable. He also had Niall ensure the doctor was on standby, just to check on Y/N and stay in the castle over the upcoming weeks in case anything else happened. Security was going to be increased, and tightened, and a warrant put out for her step mother.
The two hour horseback ride to the castle would give them well enough time to get to know each other, Harry and Niall had also switched horses, Niall’s being the slower of the two. “I don’t want to startle you when we get there. I also don’t know how to really tell you this. I’m in the royal family, so the guards and whatnot are something to just be ignored. They’re for your protection. I don’t know if you heard much of what I was telling Niall earlier, but you’re going to be very safe here, and we’ll find out what happened. I’ll look after you, I promise.” His eyes are ahead as he speaks, looking over the vast green fields ahead of them once they eventually emerged from the forest.
“Still just Harry, to me.” She reassured, sensing his nerves about revealing this information to her. His shoulders relaxed at her reaction, and a smile formed on his lips when his mind began to wander into what their future may be like. His queen.
“Hey, one day that’ll be King Harry to you.” He joked, thankful that it was received with a laugh. Her laughter was almost as sweet as her songs, and for the rest of the journey he made it his mission to mine as many possible laughs out of her as he could, like little nuggets of treasure. After making their way through the fields that lined the forest, they went down a long road that served as a divide between two of the castle’s towns, and at the end of that road just past a small valley of mountains was a sight far more glorious than Y/N had imagined. Her village was a small village that contained mostly candlemakers and dressmakers, and it sat further to the east, people only ever going out there to purchase fine candles and clothing. It was niche though, and not many could afford the fineries the master crafters in her village would create. Y/N hadn’t even really seen a home larger than a cottage, Harry’s castle looked large enough as if it could contain its own little world, a complete wilderness of towers surrounded by fine gardens, protected by a large moat with a standalone drawbridge. Harry didn’t even need to announce himself, the drawbridge was already in the process of being lowered for him.
“I had Niall clear our path, I don’t want to overwhelm you. I’ll introduce you to everyone when you’re ready.” Harry reassures her, she hadn’t even thought of anyone else though, too in awe of the sights around her. Flowers she’d never seen before laced these gardens, with fine marble sculptures and fountains protruding from them.
“I can’t believe this is your home.” Y/N whispers, unable to think of anything else to say.
“Your home too, if you’d like.” Harry replies, though his words immediately shrouded him with nerves about rushing Y/N into anything. It was stupid, they were each other’s true love’s, but it felt wrong being strangers, so Harry tried his best to conceal things. He’d never been in a conventional relationship before, never mind whatever this arrangement is or was going to be. He just knew he wasn’t meant to rush things, so he tried to refrain from expressing his feelings as best as he could. Her arms around his waist tightened, Y/N needing to feel as close to Harry as possible. He held the reins in one hand, the other arm resting over hers around his stomach, holding on to her arm to make sure she couldn’t let go.
“I’d like that.” Y/N reassures, gently rubbing his side to soothe him. Harry was too caught up in his own feelings to pay attention to how calm Y/N was. She could feel his anxiety though, and continued to try to soothe him as best she could. Y/N knew very little about Harry so far, but what she did know was that he was kind, caring, and had a lot of worries. She’d never been a worrisome person, and if anything would even refer to herself as naive, it was something she’d always been almost ashamed of but in this moment felt like maybe she’d been made to be by Harry’s side. Y/N liked the idea of spending her days being Harry’s rock, a voice of reason. She’d rather a man like this than one who had no emotions, that was for sure. It could’ve been whatever was now eternally bonding them, but she swears she was feeling his emotions, able to see his aura if she really studied hard enough. She sunk into him some more, her arms around his waist, cheek resting against his back. Harry made sure to take it extra slow, giving his love enough time to appreciate the flowers. She seemed to like flowers, and his mother took pride in this being the most beautiful garden amongst all of the kingdoms. He couldn’t wait to show her all the fineries that came with his life.
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yan-genshin · 3 years
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a/n: i admittedly have just finished the ‘goodbye archaic lord’ quest so i can’t say i’m very knowledgeable on zhongli/morax’s backstory- if any of this is ooc or seems a bit odd that’s um... my fault for being a slow and not very good Gamer(tm)
warning: general yandere contents
❥ zhongli
the well-put together and cordial man known as zhongli today, despite all he does to act as a mortal, is still in the end the man who was the archon of war. even though his days of being a violent warmonger and bloodthirsty archon are well past him, there’s certain things that never die; the instinct to claim, to conquer, still sometimes seems to burn deep down
but self control and patience are things that zhongli seems to have in abundance. ‘love’ is an emotion that he thinks isn’t entirely strange to him- but there’s just things that such an ancient archon can’t understand. the way archons love and humans love are just different, incompatible almost, and zhongli doesn’t seem as if he’s willing to change the way in which he loves
it seems easy to brush off his actions at first. he’s a gentleman- surely his habits of always escorting them when they’re out, his possessiveness, his insistence on them not getting too close to others; surely it’s just his old fashioned way of showing affection, him bringing forth long dead traditions. it’s so very much in character, so easy to not pay too much mind to
“you were talking to one of the sailors quite a bit today.” zhongli is, as always, calm and composed as he sips on his cup of tea. the bitter and rich aroma of the herbs wafts through the air, mixing in with the salty breeze of the ocean closeby and the lingering smells of the various restaurants and food stalls on the street. he doesn’t seem annoyed or angry, but his words still seem to almost imply some sort of displeasement. it’s hard to not apologize despite having done nothing wrong- they’re in their right to speak to whoever they please, there’s nothing wrong in that- but zhongli takes the apology with a smile. the feeling of something being wrong nestles deep in their chest, of how odd it is zhongli is even worked up about this, but it’s quickly brushed off as the gentleman offers them a cup of tea.
it’s almost draconic, how he hoards his darling. fitting perhaps for morax, for rex lapis, but coming from zhongli? it’s almost shocking how possessive he is. he has a clear disdain of others interacting with them, almost as if he believes all to have an ulterior motive. his long life has taught him that most humans- while weak and fascinating creatures- are also capable of unspeakable evil, capable of taking advantage of anyone they can, and he can’t help but see his darling as a weak little creature in a den of lions if he isn’t there to guard them
being the god of contracts, zhongli takes agreements seriously. what might have seemed like a cheesy promise to “stay by his side forever and never leave” isn’t just an empty sentence to him. he’ll gladly take it as a promise, hold it against them, use it to justify his actions
ideally, zhongli would like his partner to stay in his home, to act out all those old fashioned courtship and romantic costumes only he seems to remember. it’s almost as if he thinks that bringing flowers and gifts somehow makes up for the fact he’s quite literally isolating them, prohibiting them from leaving
in zhongli’s mind, his darling not wanting to do as he says is just... a temporary setback. surely they’ll come around, they’ll love him as he does: after all, humans get attached to those who are close and those who are doting, don’t they? he’s providing for them, he’s caring for the, he loves them, he’s just doing the best for them... they’ll come around. they promised to stay by his side, by the terms of the contract, they must.
even though he isn’t awake, he’s still holding them down. the house is quiet, only the vague noises of liyue’s nightlife filtering in through the closed windows. the architecture here is beautiful, but they’ve almost grown to resent the beautiful windows with wooden arches and details that make it impossible to jump through even when open. well, it’s not as if they could even get close to doing so: a slight shuffle makes zhongli grunt in his sleep, arms tightening around them in an almost uncomfortable manner. it makes them feel claustrophobic, an emotion they’ve become well acquainted with: how long has it been since they’ve truly been outside? not guided around by zhongli, not under his gaze, just free. they’ve even considered praying to barbatos for freedom, but even they know it’s useless. something makes them feel like even the archon of another region wouldn’t be of any use, not against zhongli’s overwhelming affections
there’s very little comforts to hold onto. sure, zhongli lives in a nice house, there’s never food missing, he seems to be keen to decorate them with clothes and accessories, especially fond of dressing them up in traditional liyue garb that’s hard to walk around in and not very much comfortable. but there’s no real calm- whenever he leaves the funeral home, smelling of incense and flowers, he treats them as if though he wasn’t holding them hostage, treats them tenderly enough to be unnerving
perhaps the only shred of light for his darling is the fact zhongli seems to be convinced they’ll come around, and he waits. sure, he’s much more touchy than he should be- soft caresses, chaste kisses, holding them as they sleep- but he doesn’t force much of his love on them, instead patiently waiting as the isolation and cabin fever slowly break down his darling’s resistance. said in nice words, one could say zhongli is waiting for his beloved to want his love- in accurate words, he’s waiting until they’re so broken they have no other human contact other than zhongli’s affection.
people in liyue speak of him and them. about how fitting it is for a gentleman like zhongli to have found such a docile and traditional spouse, always waiting for him at home, never leaving his side. indeed, from outsiders’ perspective, everyone seems to think that perhaps the eccentric man just found a partner that’s as willing to stick to old rules; when they see zhongli take his darling out on dates they think the fact that they keep their eyes on the ground and their hand always on zhongli’s is nothing but old fashioned respect rather than them having been broken down to a husk of who they once were
of course they’d all think they’re married. the way zhongli seems to always be by their side, the way they’re always holed up in the house, only being seen by the funeral parlor worker’s side; surely only someone in a committed relationship would do that! it irks zhongli at times- clearly, the proper matrimony rites haven’t been taken yet- but it makes his life easier, so he doesn’t correct the townspeople when they ask him how his spouse is doing. when time comes, he’ll surely host a small private wedding, a ceremony where he’ll invite the remaining adepti, a ceremony that feels at home with archaic customs and rituals; for now, it’s enough to gaze into his darling’s empty, empty eyes as he holds them close
“you’ve been quite good recently, haven’t you? perhaps we should go out to eat tonight.” he’s quite pleased with how his darling has progressed. it turns out that all he needed for them to hold up their end of the contract was a bit of time- time spent completely alone with no other contact than him, time spent locked inside the house, time spent with zhongli harshly reprimanding them for trying to escape, with only him for months and months until their basic human instincts for affection and the stress of it all just made them break. as they are now, they surely couldn’t survive by themselves; almost like a pet, they just sit by his side, allow him to pet their hair and kiss them, spending their time when he’s away just idly reading or organizing the house, not even trying to test if he forgot to lock the door. it pleases him deeply: they’re entirely his, and he’s entirely theirs. he toys with the hem of the sleeve on their traditional garb he helped them into this morning, he loves to see them dressed in clothes that remind him of times when liyue dearly worshipped the adepti and lived by traditions he now finds himself missing. as they just nod and lean into his touch, he hums happily- he’s sure that liyue pavillion will be happy to accommodate him and his darling, as they always are “glad to welcome master zhongli and his spouse” with little to no questions about much
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anaiswriterr · 3 years
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The Dragon Kings Queen
Pairing: Dragon King!Bakugou x Queen!Reader
Rating: M
Warning: This is part four, I’d like to point out be aware: 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝗼𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝗺𝐞𝐬, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐠𝗼𝐫𝐞, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐭𝐜. Please don’t read if you are not comfortable with it, and if you’re under the age of 18+ I will give a warning when it becomes NSFW but at the moment it’s SFW.
<masterlist>
Synopsis: ➪ When the word marriage crossed your mind, you believed you’d marry someone you loved. Not this brute of a King. So here you are standing at the end on an alter, pushing away the urge to run and fight. Possibly start a new life, instead of being dragged into a loveless marriage. But for the sake of your people.. They say he’s not what rumors make him out to be, but how can you believe that when his eyes burn into yours; just as fiery as before. How could you, ever love someone as barbaric as him…
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- chapter four: gifted dagger -
You clutch hard onto an old bladed dagger, it digs into your palm and slices a long line against the soft skin. Droplets of blood pools onto the gravel below you, heaving you throw the weapon into a tree bark. You groan out in frustration when it doesn't latch onto the wood, "I can't do this!"
"Don't say that, it's your first day. Try again," Kirishima urges, bending down to grab the dagger off the ground, handing it back to you placing the blade down into your palm; you seethe in pain. Swallowing down the yelp that threatened to escape passed your lips, Kirishima notices your stained palms before snatching the dagger back from your grasp.
"We'll pick this back up later, don't want you getting an infection."
Perhaps he was right, the blade was only slightly rusted - it's been over an hour with the blade constantly digging into your skin; if you didn't cover it up soon then an infection was possible. You shrug, "An infection compared to getting eaten by a bear, or an ogre is nothing in my eyes; so don't worry about me. We can continue," You reach out to grab the dagger out from his hands, but he hides the blade into his holster. Nodding his head side to side, "No can do, my job is to make sure you are safe 24/7 and if that means making you go to the infirmary then so be it."
You arch a brow wiping away the sweat beads off your forehead from the hot dewy morning, "Is that a request?"
"Your Highness, will all due respect, it's an order."
"Fine, but I quite frankly would like to survive so if we could continue this on later-"
"Of course," he smiles, "Now, go fix your hand. I was told Bakugou would like to speak to you-"
"That will not be necessary since I will not be speaking to him." You pour a cup of water over your palm, attempting to clean off the dirt. After yesterday's events you have vowed to not utter a single word to him, he's clearly a hard head who never had anyone stand up to him. As his "wife" what better then to punish his actions then using the silent treatment towards the temperamental brat. Kirishima scratches the back of his head sheepishly, fiddling with his weapon. "Well you know Your Highness-"
"Y/N will do just fine. Please no formalities between us two."
"Right. Um well, you know. Bakugou is a hard kinda guy to work with, it was hard for even I to get to be as close as I am with him. He hates silence, he might ask for it. But radio silence might not be the best answer between the two of you.. considering you two are on thin ice right now."
You arch a brow in question, wiping the sheen layer of sweat off your brow bone. "What do I do then, Kirishima. How do I win over a beast who doesn't attempt at all?"
***
To say you utterly hated Katsuki Bakugou was an understatement.
For one night he managed to put on a mask that nearly caught you in a rope of curiosity for the man - maybe he was just misunderstood. Like hell, his mother had the same fighting and burning spirit one of a dragon meanwhile his father was more calm, well rounded, wise like a dragon. So why was Bakugou the mean one of the bunch.
'You can't fix everyone, Y/N.'
Well that sentence surely did not age well, you wince as the healer places an alcohol soaked cotton ball onto your wound. Biting your lip back in pain it takes up all your strength to not pull back and away from the old man.
"I'll be right back, my Queen it seems like you may need some herbs from the garden and recently I've run out. Don't worry it'll only take me five minutes." The healer reassures you, you nod in return pressing the cotton ball into the cut, cleaning the area in the meantime.
"That's alright, take your time." You smile.
The stinging pain slowly subsided when you finally became accustomed to the clear liquid, to handle a dagger will be much harder now. You are determined to prevail, just a small bump in the road nothing quite serious. A knock on the infirmaries white door retracts you from your thoughts, eyes wondering towards the window that overviewed the garden shows it's not the healer.
"Come in."
Short blonde hair with ruby red eyes strut in, Mitsuki, your mother in law smiles down at you. "Hello dear, I heard you were in here.. I wanted to speak to you. Are you okay?"
You can feel your heart nearly drop, your mother in law was as sweet as a ripe strawberry in season but the aura she carried screamed and resembled Katsuki. You nod, greeting her with a formal cheek kiss, "Oh I'm fine just a tiny cut is all. What would be the problem?" You wave off her worry.
"Oh no dear, there is no problem. I'm glad it's just a cut, I was worried it was far worse. I just wanted to spend time with my daughter in law - I wanted you to know that though this may be a hard time, I went through this. You will be just fine. I also... heard your and Katsuki's fight last night.. I didn't mean to intrude I was just on the way to find Melody when I stumbled upon you two, how are you feeling?"
Oh dear. She knew, did anyone else know? Of course people know the two of you were practically testing who can yell the loudest - this is embarrassing. He really did manage to get a rise from you.
You stare down at your palm, this was the first time anyone here has actually asked whether or not you were fine.
"I-I'm okay, he's just hard to get to."
The bed of the infirmary dips slightly beside you as Mitsuki's takes a seat beside you, "Yes, he can be a handful most days. Katsuki doesn't exactly know how to be... nice? It's probably my fault, I was constantly pushing him as a child. You know, he turned out to be a fine warrior; a fine commander." You nod listening to his mother, "I guess the two of you are no longer on speaking terms. I get it, I moved from a neighboring kingdom to here. It was hard to get his father to open up," Mitsuki sighs.
"But the two of you fell in love."
"You are very right, but like all love. It took time."
A silence falls between the two of you, she was the only person who you could remotely relate to right about now. She was the only one who could even fathom how scared you are, you were served with a silver platter all your life nearly always spoon fed and suddenly thrown into a tribe you knew nothing about. "How did you do it?"
Mitsuki arches a brow, "What do you mean?"
"H-How do I survive in that forest? What do I have to expect even after? How did you do it?"
The former queen sighs, eyeing your injury. "Well, from my kingdom we had similar principles I already had the basic knowledge of outdoor survival. To keep it short," She grabs your free hand in comfort. "I'm sure they haven't bothered telling you the objectives, the point system.. the tribal ceremony for those who make it out of alive. You must come out with a Goblin heart, no exceptions. Afterwards believe it or not you are placed on a pedestal at midnight the day you arrive back where you must eat the entire muscle, uncooked. The blood is told it'll bring great fortune and fertility. The process.. was nevertheless grueling I felt like a caged animal with all the drums and cheering. Y/N you must not, and I repeat my not throw up during the feasting."
You nod intently, stomach curling at the thought of a eat raw heart. But tribal traditions and regulations must be met, your heart pounded. It seemed like no matter where you turned there was always a set back, a catch. You survive the forest and now you must feast in front of the entire kingdom?
"Stay high, on top of the trees are the best option. Don't make a fire at night - I know, it'll be tempting. It'll grow cold as night falls, but the most dangerous creatures come out then and are attracted to light. You'll be dead before you even know it." Mitsuki lectures with a stern gaze, tightening her grip around the palm of your uninjured hand. "Find running water, a stream, lake, river. Whatever, it's freshwater. You'll catch your fish there, berries and nuts are also located near there. If you'd like to start a fire I suggest start when the sun rises, the creatures of the forest will retreat since they are nocturnal."
You store this information into your head, such valuable keys of survival. You are determined to return breathing, to return alive.
"Goblins are tricksters - never trust a single word that utters from their mouths. It's poisonous. They are most active during the day, but during sunlight stay low and stay quiet, follow the wind and it'll guide you. That is all I can say, I wish I could say more. Personally, I attempted to change this law for years. It never seemed fair, I pray I see you again Y/N."
"Thank you. I hope to see you as well." You smile sadly at the blonde woman who carried a guilty expression, her hands finally let go of your free one. "I'm terribly sorry, Y/N. I have one last thing to gift you, It's not much. Katsuki was supposed to give it to you this morning but it appears the outskirts have called upon him once again." Mitsuki reaches out for a golden box to the left of her, the velvet embroiled box calls your attention.
"It's said to be a gift from the gods. The gods who birthed dragons, carried down by generations. All Dragon Queens have used this, a sacred weapon to help kill the beast and restore balance; Katsuki has made the executive decision that you get to receive this gift." Mitsuki's hand fiddles with the locks of the box, the top lid opens with a flick of her fingers.
A blade, shines in the light.
Cleaned and sharp, the Queen's dagger passed down from hundreds of years worth of battles.
Is gifted.. to you, by the king.
"I-I can not accept this. This gift, I do not deserve this. It's sacred-" You babble, waving your hands you gently push away the box bestowed to you between the spot that separated the both of you. Two queens of the Dragon Kingdom. "You can, and you will. I was gifted this dagger two months after both I and Masaru's wedding. Katsuki wanted you to have this sacred weapon now. He has chosen you, please take it."  
You nod in response, hands trembling as you reach out for the velvet box. The handle of the dagger stings in your possession, the bleeding in your right hand has finally stopped when you hold the blade with two hands. It was much more easier to carry, sharper, and even thinner - as light as a feather, fit for a Queen, fit for battle. It was your husband who bestowed this gift to you, "When you are out there, Y/N. Remember.. to fight like a dragon."
"And how must I manage to fight like a dragon? I don't even know how to throw a dagger properly - at a still object, may I add." You show her the deep cut in need of stiches on your palm, "Dragons, my dear, always find a way to win."
***
Your palm is tightly wrapped with herbs to protect the freshly new stitches, meeting Kirishima in the backwoods where training took place. You managed to learn how to build a fire, a makeshift knife if your original weapon were to ever be kicked away from you, how to catch a fish and how to determine which berries were poisonous and which were safe for consumption.
You wince at the feeling of sharp branches scratching against your bare legs, dressed with royal training gear you wondered if you could actually make it to the finish line. You take a bite of a berry, it's tart yet semi sweet flavor cleans your palette of fish. Kirishima watches from the side with a satisfied grin, nightfall was quickly approaching and since this morning you have requested no sort of rest. You drink away at your makeshift cup, the leaf holding only a handful of water you eagerly drink away at.
Kirishima looks up to the darkening sky, hews of purples, pinks, and blues paint the sky as stars begin to appear.
"I should probably get you back to the Palace," He says wiping his hand away from dirt he collected off the tree bark he leaned against - watching your crouched and exhausted figure warm your hands over the mini fire you created. You look up, "I suppose you're right," You reach over to the stream beside you cupping a handful of water and watering down the fire, stomping it out with wet breaches and leaves. Patting it into the ground to stop the embers from continuing to burn.
Kirishima fiddles with his swords and daggers, "You did great today, Y/N." He praises you, proud of how far you've come in just a day. It took him hours to catch a fish when he was just a child, when his parents were alive. You thank him, moving beside him as the two of you walk down the backwoods trail. Only sharing small talk and friendly conversation.
You hum at the story he told of both him and Bakugou, "Well.. how exactly did the two of you meet. You two seem so close to one another, not to mention.. Kirishima you're very loyal to him - his family. What's your story?" There's a visible hitch in his breath, his shoulders tense up as he stumbles upon his words. "I-I'm so sorry! If you don't want to talk-
Kirishima chuckles waving off your worries, "No, nobody has ever asked me. We were just.. brothers. I met him in the mountains, I was just eight years old and back then Dragon hunting use to be a huge problem. Hunters, Poachers - they would all terrorize Dragons who lived peacefully with no mercy murder entire hoards. My parents.. were hunted and killed along with the entire clan and neighboring tribes. I was running, miles away from my home for days. Crying, hungry, thirsty, I was to afraid to fly because they would see me."
You listen intently, nodding along to his words, saddened by his past. Feeling guilty for even asking, he continues.
"Bakugou, can be mean, a brute, barbaric, and even sometimes cruel. But I promise you he has a good heart; so easily he could've turned his back away from me in the mountains. Let the Goblins and Wolves feast on me, instead he took me in. Into the Royal campgrounds, his parents welcomed me in. Cleaned my wounds, gave me a hot meal, warm milk to combat the winter, fresh pair of boots and clothes, even a warm bed to sleep in. Bakugou didn't talk, didn't even introduce himself to me after a few days. However if he didn't take me in then I would've died alone in the cold. And for that I am loyal to them, hell he even let me hold onto his toy for a while." He chuckles.
A silence grows between the both of you, with only snapping branches beneath your boots. Its crunches sooths the silence until he spoke once more.
"I hope you know you're going to be okay, Y/N. I believe in you, and in three days time when you have to walk into that forest; I am convinced I will see you also walk out.
"Thank you Kirishima, I-I'm sorry for what happened to your family."
The redhead waves you off once more smiling to you as the castle gates approach, "It's okay, things happen for a reason. Now go clean up, Melody should have your bath ready. Sleep tight your Highness." He bows gesturing for you enter passed the gates. You press a small kiss to his cheek watching a dark red blush spread throughout his face, "Goodnight Kirishima."
Walking passed him and into the handmaidens arms, Kirishima watches you. A hand pressed hard onto his sizzling red hot cheek that burned out against his palm, smiling sheepishly, gushing over the lingering feeling of ghost lips that once pressed against his cheek. Turning away with his back foot, he hears two pairs of heavy boots stomping against the ground, royal guards heave - catching their breathes.
"What's wrong- where Bakugou?" Kirishima quickly asks eyeing the guards who ran all the way here from the stables in search for him. "Sir Kirishima, King Bakugou has requested your immediate arrival at the outskirts-"
"It's the eggs, sir!" The other interrupts, "The Dragon eggs, the four Gardina left behind."
***
"What's the problem? What happened with the eggs, I thought they were fine."
"Since Gardina's sudden death the eggs need warmth, there's talk from other kingdoms across the seas even, that people are thinking about stealing them, selling them for one million gems on the magical black market." Bakugou grimaces, his arms crossed over his chest. "It seems that we should pay a visit, remind them who we are."
Kirishima nods his head, moving along with his friend passed the campfire where soldiers sat. "What can I do to help?"
Bakugou moves the curtains of his tent, "After you train Y/N, the same day as the games I need you to take the eggs and hide them away as far as possible, I don't care where just away from  here. Hide them with the others in the mountains if you'd like - we can not afford them to go missing. Far too dangerous for anyone else." The blond commands, tiredness seeps through his voice as he rubs his eyes to combat the sleep he's been in desperate need for. "I'll give you the green light when to bring them back, I won't return to the Kingdom until the day of the games. Did my mother give Y/N the Royal Dagger?"
Nodding to himself Kirishima smiles, "Yes, she was given it this morning just before noon."
"How did she do?" Katsuki rubs the back of his neck, "Rocky as first, but the girl picks up fast. Will you be here to send her off?" Kirishima tilts his head crossing his arms, "I don't know if she wants me there."
"If you care about her coming back alive, you'll be there." ***
- 3 days later -
The carriage ride is slow, dangerously slow as you remember the long tight hug Melody gave you before your leave at the sunset, Former Queen Mitsuki sits in front of you, her hand clutches onto yours in comfort as you shake in fear in your seat. Kirishima is waiting outside the enchanted forest where it was the most safest - a crowd has formed of simple tribe and clan members outside their homes as they attempt to try and get a glimpse of you; their Queen.
You have yet to meet them, only knowing the castle walls and the workers who served.
You can feel your dagger inside it's brown leather hostler dig into your thigh; but it's fine. It's the only thing keeping you distracted from your pounding heart beat against your chest and the clamminess of your palms. The stitch's finally healed by a magic teller.
You don't even notice the purple hews of the setting sun turning pitch black with only the moon and stars to prove it's light on the passage way;  you breath deeply through your nose. Watching how you approached the enchanted forest quicker then you anticipated. Queen Mitsuki and King Masaru insisted you sleep, but you respectfully declined. How were you supposed to sleep when you were being forced into the most dangerous forest known to mankind. They could've just simply pushed you into a hungry Dragon's nest.
The carriage stops and the horses neigh signaling your arrival, a part of you wishes your mother had declined the offer of King Bakugou it would've been nice if he were to even apologize. But since you do not live in a fantasy world, you are reminded this is real life. And you are most certain no prince dressed in armor will come to your rescue and insists he runs off with you. You're stuck here.
You look back nervously at the former king and queen who both bite back their bottom lips, "I will see you in three days time. We both will."
The door to your side of the carriage is thrown open by Kirishima who holds his hand out to grip yours, "M'lady."
Hesitantly you let go of Mitsuki's hand, bidding the two goodbye and latch onto Kirishima's calloused rough ones. Your boots settle into the ground when you let go of his hand, eyes catching a pair of vermillion orbs, ones you haven't seen in three days. His necklaces of teeth he's collected over the years frightens you, will you have a necklace like that one day? "Are you ready, my Queen."
His eyes.
They say nothing at all, just a simple red gleam. He watches you approach the entrance of what seemingly looked like a one way ticket to death, is he going to say anything all? Probably not.
His malicious words still ring clear in your mind, "You wont be a Queen if you're dead."
Death is something you refuse to meet, at least not yet. You turn to face him, he has no emotion and the tears that threaten to spill are wiped away by your wrist. The only people here to witness the games are him, Kirishima, a few men from the counsels parliament, royal soldiers (who you suppose are only here to protect the king and stop you if you decide to run) and both Bakugou's parents who insisted on staying in the carriage. Bakugou's quiet glare is something most would be terrified of, but you refuse to be belittled and underestimated.
"Y/N? Are you okay?" You hear Kirishima ask, your eyes detach from the blonds. Nodding you wipe your clammy hand against the leather hunting skirt you were dressed in. "I'm fine, I'm ready."
You're scared. That's an understatement, "Time starts as soon as you enter, retrieve the Goblin heart and come back here the third day at sunset. If you are not here by then we will assume you have died." A counsel man announces, you hold back the urge to flip him off - he didn't know you. Nor did you know him, to throw your life away as if it were never meaningful to another was plain cruel but there was a thing you refused to do.
Give up.
"I'll see you later Y/N."
'I will not die'
You set out into the forest, without looking back, with the feeling of two vermillion eyes staring into your back.  
TAGLIST: @loxbbg @urmomsshousee​ @samkysnks @mikithekiki @aegeanblues @mykuronekome @lowkey-a-faerie-in-disguise​ @orange-aesthetic-yay @katsukibabe​ @vvanills @katiekat300​ @utterlyconfused-tm​ @learningasigo​ @bigkoalafications​ @bnhaficswriter​  @tspice283​ @simpforeveryone​ @crackhead1-800​ @poetryandhoetry01​ @bakasbitch18 @riceballsandanime​ @franko-pop​ @lostmarimoismyhubby​ @junniev8​ @thirsthourdemon​ @cowward​ @the2ndl​ @reaperintheroses​ @bakugousmrs​ @maemi324​ @beautifulparisiangirl​ @commandertorinshepard​ @bnhafan101 @meliapis​ @thecaoswitch @liviwivi1 @hikaru-mikazuki​ @angie-1306​ @theinfamoushotdog​ @minibobabottle​ @honeylemondragonemperor​ @iloveitblackbnha @yokesmam​ @annepamgkrth​ @the2ndl​ @sugarandsoft​
AUTHORS NOTE: Personally one of the worst fucking chapters I’ve produced, anyways yooo Bakugou kinda feels guilty Y/N is going through this but you know this is going to be a strength building exercise for her. The ceremony after is based off of GOT so iykyk. Anyways my eye has been shut for like three days it just keeps watering and so irritating to write with. Okay I’m done ranting, I hope you liked it. 
925 notes · View notes
dangerous-mess · 3 years
Text
Holiday Troubles
Characters: Aizawa, trans male reader
Contains: Unsupportive family, transphobia, homophobia, misgendering, mentions of a deadname (D/N), mentions of religion and praying, mentions of dysphoria, angst, hurt/comfort, angst with fluff ending. This was written mainly as a comfort fic during the winter holidays but wanted to post this here (originally posted on AO3). Please read with caution as this content may be triggering for some
Word Count: 2K+ 
The holidays were always rough for you, being not only gay but transgender as well. There were the off-putting tension and feelings every time you walked in the room, and the side glances and judgemental glares that were shot your way if you were even caught wearing something feminine and not masculine. Mostly from your parents and family, feeling the obligation that you had to follow gender norms in the hope to not only pass but to be taken seriously in your own identity.
The holidays got a little easier once you married your now husband. He made visiting your family a bit easier and made the holidays in general, more enjoyable for you. This year, unfortunately, he had meetings and a nightly patrol that he couldn’t get out of, so you were left to go to the Christmas family gathering by yourself.
The day came, and needless to say, you were a nervous mess. You dressed up in a suit, something masculine of course to appease your family and keep those comments at bay. Though, you knew you weren’t in the clear as there was still a high chance of being deadnamed and misgendered by family who were unsupportive or others who just didn’t try. Your husband, Shouta, let you know before he left early that morning that if you needed anything at all to give him or Hizashi a call and they would come and get you in a heartbeat. He said Hizashi, just in case he couldn’t be reached, which was fine with you, Hizashi had become a close friend to you.
You arrived at your parent's house a little later than they asked, just cause you were nervous and needed more time to prepare for this evening. You knocked on the front door, adjusting your suit as you waited for someone to open the door, only to be greeted by one of your younger siblings. They gave you a big hug, before dragging you inside where you were greeted by family. Your grandmother was the first to deadname you. She called out as you talked to your uncle, a devious smile on her face as the name rolled off her tongue. You cringed hearing it and so badly wanted to correct her, but if your mother caught wind that you did, who knows what drama may pursue. You endured the conversation with her, as she made sure to drop in your deadname every chance she could get.
“Honestly D/N, you really should stop playing dress up and realize that you are a girl. Your husband would be so much happier to have a wife who knows her place and not some confused girl.”
You took a deep breath and bid your goodbyes to your grandmother as you went to find someone else to talk to. Eventually, dinner was called, and you all gathered around and your grandfather said a prayer. You looked down at your feet the entire time, not really wanting to participate in the prayer. Soon it wrapped up and a line formed into the kitchen to get food. After everyone got food, everyone gathered around and talked, telling stories of things that happened within the past year in their lives, as well as asking questions to others to get the latest scoop. You just decided to eat silently, trying to not participate in the gossip fest happening before you.
“So Y/N, how are you and your husband doing?” Your dad asked before he took a sip of a beer. You held up your pointer finger, signaling that you needed a moment as your finished chewing food before you smiled and spoke.
“Oh, we are doing well! He sends his deepest apologies that he couldn’t make it, hero duties called.” You smiled, taking a quick glance around the room. Some whispers were exchanged, knowing it was about you and Shouta. It was clear that besides your family not supporting your identity, they also did not support your marriage to a hero. Especially a hero who was supportive of you and your identity.
“Honestly, how she manages to keep such a hero man, is insane. Like who would wanna marry some confused lesbian?” One of your aunts spoke out. You gripped your glass tightly, biting your tongue, not wanting to start any issues.
Other family members chimed in to add on to your aunt's comment and soon it became too much. You quickly excused yourself and went to the bathroom farthest away from your family. You pulled out your phone and texted your husband. You told him that you needed him or Hizashi or someone to come to pick you up, as you originally walked, as it was nice earlier prior to the sun setting. You quickly got a reply, saying your husband was on his way, and that he was getting someone to cover the rest of his patrol. You felt a bit bad to interrupt and have him leave his patrol, but god you just needed him right now more than anything.
You hid amongst the rooms as you waited for Shouta to send you a message or signal that he was here. Your mom called out your name, walking down the hall looking for you. The smile on her face dropped as she saw you and grabbed your arm.
“Come on Y/N, we are about to exchange gifts. Stop trying to hide and be nice and spend time with your family. It took a lot of work and effort to get everyone here, like your grandparents who haven’t seen you in ages.” Your mom aggressively whispered at you, as she pulled you towards the living room. You stayed silently, hoping that your husband would be here soon.
Your mom let you go and pointed to a chair near the tree. You sat down and were handed some gifts. You slowly opened them, trying not to draw attention to yourself. The first gift was in a gift bag, and opening it exposed a colorful piece of clothing. You pulled it out and it was a sundress. Although you didn’t mind breaking gender norms, dresses were never your thing, they held too many bad memories and made you dysphoric. You frowned, not having the energy to fake a smile. You felt your mind start to spiral before a voice pulled you out.
“Oh, D/N do you not like it. I made sure to even get the right size and everything. I thought you could put that on and surprise your husband when you go home. Imagine how he would react to see his wife, finally coming to terms with herself.” Your grandmother called out, staring at you the entire time. You went to open your mouth when another voice spoke up.
“Actually, I think my husband looks handsome and perfect just the way he is in the suit he is wearing, but thank you. Maybe we can save the dress and give it to one of my students, I know one of them would get much better use of it.” Shouta’s voice boomed out, making a hush fall across the room. You never heard the front door open, but then again Shouta was very good at staying silent. You looked at your husband, feeling all your emotions and feelings starting to rise to the surface. You caught a dirty look your mother gave you as you stood up and made your way over to Shouta.
He held out his hand as you got closer and held it tightly, quickly bidding goodbye for you both as he quickly led you outside to the car that was waiting outside and still running. “I had Hizashi drive me over, hope that’s okay.” You just nodded at him, not letting go of his hand until you got into the car. As soon as you and Shouta were in the car, Hizashi sped off.
“Heya listener, how did it go?” Hizashi asked out, peeking into the mirror looking back at you.
“I lasted longer than last year, so that’s a new record at least.” You joked, trying not to cry. At least not now, you had to make it until you were home and in bed, with your husband holding you close.
Hizashi talked most of the ride home, while Shouta kept glancing back at you. You tried to listen to what was being said, but you couldn’t focus, so you just looked out the window, slightly dozing off. You woke up to the feeling of being carried, your eyes adjusted as you saw Shouta was carrying you into the house and to the bedroom. On any other occasion, if he was carrying you like this you were bound to tease or crack a joke or something, but in this moment you just stayed in his arms, gripping onto him tightly. Once you both got to the bedroom, he helped you undress and slip on something comfy. After he finished helping you, he quickly changed and climbed into bed, pulling you close to him and holding you tightly.
For a while, you just laid there in his arms, fighting back the urge to scream and cry. Though, after he comforted you and let you know it was okay to be upset and that you could let it all out. In which you did, you sobbed in his chest for what felt like hours. You screamed and sobbed and let out all the feelings you bottled up for the few hours you were at the family gathering. Eventually, you ran out of tears to cry and were only left with your own thoughts. You were overthinking, mostly dwelling on the words your family spoke out to you this evening, and couldn’t help but question if it was true.
“Sho...I’ve got to ask you something, kind of important.” You gently pushed away and sat up in the bed, looking at him. He stared at you, and nodded, letting you know it was okay to continue on. You took a deep breath and went for it, “Am I enough for you? I brought a lot of baggage and trouble into our relationship and I know it can’t be easy for you dating me, specifically with the backlash and comments that get made by my family and others about me transitioning and just. If you were with anyone else, I feel like you won’t get all this drama and I’m sorry I’ve brought so much of it onto you Shouta.”
You watched as his facial expression changed and you quickly looked away, finding interest in anything that wasn’t his face, afraid of what his reaction not only meant but the words that were about to follow. “Y/N, please look at me.” You slowly looked up and he placed a hand on your cheek. “I love you Y/N. I love you for you, you are my husband and I won’t want anyone else besides me. You are more than enough for me. And we both have a lot of baggage but that doesn’t change my feelings for you, we can work through it all together. I meant what I said in my vows and at our wedding and I still stand by it. Forever and always.”
You fiddled with your fingers before speaking up, “I love you Shouta so much, I’m just afraid one day I won’t be enough, cause as silly as it is, I don’t feel masculine or manly enough, that you’ll find more of a ‘real’ man one day and just leave me behind.” Tears filled your eyes and you looked down, just wanting to hide under the blankets.
“Y/N Aizawa, you are absolutely masculine and manly enough. I will never find anyone else or more a man than you. You are all I want, and all I need. I love you so much, don’t ever doubt my love for you, cause it is never-ending sweetheart.” Shouta spoke out, lifting your head up and placing a small kiss on your forehead before pulling you into his arms, holding you close. You just stayed there close, as Shouta whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you drifted off to sleep.
Shouta always made the holidays more bearable, but he also made life in general easier. He made waking up a little easier and helped with your hectic thoughts to calm you down. He truly was the love of your life and the best you could ever ask for. You couldn’t have gotten any luckier to have a husband as sweet and perfect as you. He may not be the number one hero to the rest of the world, but in your eyes and his heart, he was, he was your number one hero.
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theladyofdeath · 3 years
Text
Life As We Know It {Chapter 8}
Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.
Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.
Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby’s blogs! >> @snelbz​
Life As We Know It Masterlist
Shelby’s Masterlist
Tara’s Masterlist
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Cassian didn’t have to go into the bar until noon, so until Viviane arrived for her first day at 11:30, it was just him and Nyx.
The sun was out, and Cassian intended to take full advantage of it. Nyx was in his stroller and Cassian was jogging down the side of the Sidra. He’d only had him for the last half hour.
After Cassian’s breakdown last night, Nesta had apparently decided to let Cassian sleep in. Before Nyx could even cry, Nesta had gotten him up, ready, and fed before she left for work that morning.
He was mortified that she’d had to see that, that he’d broken down in front of her like that. But there was so much of Rhys looking at him, all the time and he’d been holding it in for so long. And knowing that he hadn’t been able to figure out what Nyx needed was the final straw last night.
After Nesta had hugged him, he’d finally gotten the strength to pull himself together, and he pulled from her grasp. He’d noticed the dress she wore to go out then, showing just as much skin as that damn towel had, and had made an excuse about being exhausted. He’d shut himself in his room, staring at the ceiling until he fell asleep around two or three in the morning.
He wasn’t surprised she had barely wanted to see him this morning. She probably thought he was an irresponsible mess, probably figured she was better off taking care of Nyx on her own.
And maybe she was.
Nesta had some natural motherly instinct, just like Feyre and Elain had. It was an Archeron trait, Cassian had no doubt.
And although the Archeron sisters certainly hadn’t had a perfect upbringing, the three of them had always had each other.
Cassian couldn’t say the same.
His mom died young.
He’d never had a father.
Or siblings.
Or any other extended family.
He’d just had Rhysand and Azriel, and although fatherhood had come decently easy to both of them, Cassian couldn’t say the same for himself. He was the goofy, unpredictable uncle of the group, he was good in that role.
Not the ideal father figure.
Cassian picked up his speed.
Nyx giggled and threw his hands in the air. 
Regardless of his mood, he couldn’t help but smile down at him.
He loved this kid, and he knew that this kid loved him. He may not be his father, but he would do his damndest to make sure he knew how much he was loved. Every damn day.
*
Cassian had just gotten out of the shower and gotten dressed when he heard the doorbell chime.
Nyx was standing in his playpen, holding onto the padded railing when Cassian rushed to the door, throwing it open.
“Viviane, hey,” he said, opening it wide enough for her to step through. She gave him a polite smile and he shut the door behind her. “Okay, so Nyx is over there, Nesta left a note on the fridge with our cell numbers, the number for her restaurant, my bar, uh, his pediatrician-.”
Viviane laughed quietly and headed for the playpen. “I’ll call you if I need anything, but I’m sure this little dude is going to be an angel.”
She reached down and scooped him up and Nyx did nothing but beam up at her.
“He’s in good hands,” Viviane went on when she saw the worry in Cassian’s eyes.
“I know,” he smiled, although hesitantly. “Nesta will be home at four-thirty.”
“We’re going to have fun,” Viviane promised, and Nyx giggled.
Cassian took that as cue to leave and hurried out the door. It was stressful, leaving him for the first time, alone with someone they had only just met.
He found himself wondering if Rhysand or Feyre would approve.
He prayed they did.
When he got to the bar, Kallias was already there, making sure everything was ready for opening.
“You’re two minutes late, boss,” he teased.
Cassian snorted. “New nanny. Had a hard time leaving.”
Kallias raised a brow. “Hot nanny?” 
Cassian grinned as he came behind the bar. “Just your type, actually.” 
Before the conversation could deepen, Cassian seeing the intrigue in Kal’s eye, he was heading to the store room, grabbing a few bottles to keep within reaching distance when they undoubtedly got a little busy over lunch.
“I like hot nannies,” Kallias hollered. “It would be nice of you to share.”
Cassian snorted, heading back up towards the bar. He didn’t reply, shaking his head as he glanced at his friend, and he set about cutting and readying the garnishes for drinks.
With a dramatic sigh, far louder than it needed to be for Cass to hear him, Kallias began turning on the televisions around the room, two on different sports broadcasts and one on a local music channel.
Maybe he would set Kallias up with Viviane.
Even he had to admit…they’d make a pretty damn cute couple.
*
It was just before 4:30 when Nesta pushed open the front door, prepared to find the house thrown into chaos.
But, it was spotless, Nyx was sleeping, and Viviane was on the couch, reading a book. She looked up at Nesta and smiled.
“You’re home,” she whispered, even though Nyx wasn’t in the room. “He’s been down for about forty-five minutes. We played hard today. I think he’s worn out.”
Nesta blinked, carefully stepping inside and shutting the door behind her. “He was good?”
“Oh, he was great,” Viviane promised, standing up and closing her book with a bookmark placed neatly between it’s pages. “Although, his diaper rash is getting pretty bad. I changed him more often to try and keep him as dry and rash-creamed as possible. But, you may want to keep an eye out. I’ve seen worse, but you still may want to get a prescription from his doctor to help clear it up.”
Nesta hadn’t even noticed that Nyx had had a rash and chastised herself. “Yes. Absolutely, I’ll make him an appointment as soon as I can.”
Viviane smiled again, stopping to grab her purse where it sat by the floor of the couch and dropped her book inside. It was well loved, Nesta could tell, and for a moment, she considered asking what the pretty, young woman was reading.
And then she remembered who she’d been here alone with that morning.
Her eyes popped open. “Oh, gods, I hope Cassian was okay this morning. He’s not…always on his best behavior.”
Viviane brows bunched towards each other, confusion on her face. “I don’t follow?”
“I hope he didn’t say anything too inappropriate,” she rushed out. “He can be a bit much in the mornings, and-.”
“Oh, no, no,” Viviane interrupted, her crystalline eyes going wide. “No, he was an absolute gentleman. On good behavior.” She then added, “And please, don’t mistake my enthusiasm for this job, Nesta, I’m not interested in your husband or anything like-.”
It was Nesta’s turn to interrupt. “Husband?! No, no, Cassian isn’t my husband. Cauldron, no we just have to live together. He’s not even my boyfriend. I can barely stand the guy.”
Viviane hesitated. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just assumed-.”
“It’s alright,” Nesta said, and knew her cheeks were red. “I could see how it would be easy to make that assumption.”
Viviane nodded and rocked back on her heels, uncomfortably. “Right, well...I’ll see you all tomorrow?”
“Absolutely,” Nesta said, trying her best to give a convincing smile.
She knew she was failing.
Convincing smiles weren’t her specialty.
But, husband? As if she would ever marry a man like Cassian. They may have had a moment where they didn’t absolutely loathe each other the night before, but that’s only because he was having a complete mental breakdown.
Nesta may be a bitch, but she wouldn’t kick a man when he’s already down.
Well, at least not in that situation. In a different set of circumstances, perhaps she would. 
Viviane let herself out and Nesta said her goodbyes, and shook her head.
Husband.
Oh, fuck no.
After a quick call to Nyx’s pediatrician, and an appointment made for the following afternoon, Nesta set out to make dinner. Nothing too crazy, just a new recipe she’d been toying with at the restaurant and she needed an unbiased opinion - one from someone whom she didn’t employ - to give her an honest opinion. She knew Cassian would be at the bar until eight-thirty or nine, but the chicken salad would be better chilled anyways.
Or she thought it was. She’d have to ask what he thought about that.
She was halfway through chopping up the roast chicken she’d spiced and marinated all day when the monitor to her left let out a lonely cry. Washing her hands, Nesta was hurrying up the stairs and found Nyx standing in his crib. He immediately reached for her, those blue eyes still drowsy with sleep, but Nesta knew he needed to be changed as soon as she got within sniffing distance. Hopefully he’d be sleepy enough that he wouldn’t fight her on the diaper change.
“What did Cassian feed you for lunch, kiddo?” She asked, scrunching her nose as she unsnapped the onesie he wore, and swapped out his diaper for a clean one.
True to Viviane’s word, Nyx had developed a splotchy, red rash on his bottom. After setting Nyx up in a swing by the door, Nesta took a few minutes to Google what a normal case of diaper rash looked like. Afterwards, she had wiped her search history and was thankful she’d gone ahead and called the pediatrician’s office, especially considering they were now closed until the following morning.
She also had to figure out a way to thank Viviane for her suggestion. Nesta almost felt like she owed the girl an apology for her initial reaction to her, based on her assumptions of Cassian. Not that she had any idea how Nesta had felt, but she still felt bad.
She may know a few things about Cassian Nazari, but she knew nothing about Viviane, not yet. Nesta should really give her the benefit of the doubt.
Even though such a thing was not her specialty.
The second they walked into the kitchen, Nyx was crying and reaching toward the fridge. Nesta put him in his high chair, letting him cry it out as she fixed him supper.
In the meantime, she dumped a pile of strawberry puffs on his tray.
He was immediately stuffing them into his mouth.
“You know, I’ve tasted those and they’re not all that great,” Nesta said, preparing him a small bowl of sweet potatoes.
Nyx looked at her and held up a star-shaped puff. 
She couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, but thank you for the offer.”
Nesta finished her salad and put the rest in the fridge for Cassian to eat once he got home. After taking a seat, and placing her salad and Nyx’s potatoes on the table, she dug in.
It was, obviously, delicious.
Nyx even seemed to be enjoying his sweet potatoes, though, as always more ended up on his high chair’s tray than in his mouth.
“You have an art for making a mess, buddy,” she said, shaking her head as she lifted another spoonful of the sweet potatoes to his mouth.
He took the bite into his mouth, and sprayed most of it back out in a raspberry.
She raised an eyebrow, setting the bowl down in front of her. “You’re just playing at this point, aren’t you?”
To say yes, in fact, he was, Nyx smacked a chubby hand into the mushed up mix of puffs and sweet potato on his tray.
“That means it’s bath time and then bed time,” she mused, wiping as much of him down as she could. She decided to go ahead and ditch his smeared onesie in the laundry room, and carried a diapered Nyx up to the bathroom.
A mostly uneventful bath later, she discovered Viviane must have been telling the truth about playing hard today. Nyx had been asleep before she’d made it through the second page of his favorite book, his pacifier falling out of his full, little lips.
She gently laid him down in the crib, and tiptoed downstairs to flip through bad reality TV until Cassian got home.
She hated how much she had thought about Cassian throughout the day. For once, it wasn’t about his body. Instead, it was about the fact that he had spent five minutes in her arms the night before, sobbing. She wasn’t sure what to think.
Cassian had a rough exterior. 
He was known for his good looks and how many women those looks attracted. Since Nesta met him five years prior, there were only a handful of things she could say about Cassian.
He was beautiful, but that much was obvious.
He knew how to make beautiful instruments, which meant he was good with his hands.
Nesta would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about just how good he was with those hands.
Lastly, Cassian was cocky as hell. He was hot. He knew he was hot. And he had to convince everyone who didn’t think he was hot that he was hot.
But, one thing that Nesta hadn’t known about Cassian until the night before?
He cared.
He really, really cared.
And he was scared.
She had been willing to put aside their differences for Nyx. They’d come to that agreement when he’d begun to depend on them. But now, she wanted to make things work…for him. He was terrified of letting Rhys down, something she understood. Every time she thought of something she may have done wrong, all she could think about was how disappointed Feyre would be in her.
Except…she knew that wasn’t true. Just like she knew that Rhys would never be disappointed in Cassian. The fact that he’d stepped up, had been willing to care for Rhys and Feyre’s only child…
She just had to make sure Cassian believed it.
Nesta was half asleep on the couch when the door unlocked and opened, Cassian walking through. He blinked once upon seeing her, clearly not having expected her to be downstairs when he got home.
“Hey,” she said, stretching. “How was your day?”
He tossed his keys on the table by the door, looking around, pointedly not looking at her. “It was good. Where’s Nyx?”
“He’s been down since seven-thirty or so, Viviane did great today,” she said, watching him as he walked into the kitchen. “I owe you an apology. You were right, she’s good.”
She heard a grunt of acknowledgment as the fridge opened. He came back into the living room, shaking up a bottled protein shake and cracking it open.
“I made a roasted chicken salad,” she said. “I put leftovers in the fridge for you.” “That’s okay,” he said, voice low. “You can take it to work with you tomorrow. Don’t want to take your food.”
Nesta blinked. “I put it in the fridge for you-.”
“I’m tired,” he said, heading toward the stairs. “Night.”
Nesta’s mouth opened, then shut, then opened again. “I’m sorry, what?”
Cassian stopped at the foot of the stairs and looked over his shoulder. “What?”
I made you dinner. I stayed up to make sure you were alright. “Nothing. Just didn’t realize you were so insistent on being an asshole this evening.”
“An asshole?” he repeated. “I just got home, I’m tired, and now I’m an asshole?” 
Nesta just shook her head, falling back on the couch. “Nevermind. Goodnight.” 
Cassian just stood there, looking half like he wanted to go upstairs and half like he wanted to chuck the half-empty bottle at the back of her head. He’d already had a long, horrible day full of shitty, rude customers. He hadn’t even realized it was nearing Spring Break until the underage kids with shitty, fake ID’s had descended on the bar today. The amount of customers he had to turn away since they were practically children possibly outweighed the actual customers he and Kal had served.
He’d also had Nesta on his mind all day, on the pity she had to feel for him after he lost it the night before. The fact that she made him dinner was just proof of it, that he was right.
“You didn’t need to make me dinner,” he said, staring at the wall behind her head. “I can take care of myself, alright?”
Nesta’s eyes were closed, her arms crossed as she laid back on the couch. “I didn’t say that you couldn’t.”
“Just because I lost it for a minute last night, doesn’t mean that I’m helpless,” Cassian went on. “I’m just as capable of taking care of Nyx, of being a grown ass adult, as you are.”
Nesta’s eyes opened, then, and she slowly looked over to him. “Is that right?”
“Yeah, it is,” he said, simply.
“Really?” Nesta asked. “Because you’re acting like a gods damned child right now.”
Cassian snorted as he shook his head. “I don’t have the patience for you tonight. Goodnight.”
“You’re a real dick, you know that?” Nesta snapped.
“It’s all you think I’m good for, so I guess I may as well act like it, too,” he called out, not turning back to look at her.
The words struck her, made her feel two feet tall, especially considering how she’d begun to regard him instead. But she wasn’t able to stop the bite of her words as she snapped, “Oh, fuck you.”
Cassian didn’t say a word as he topped the stairs and headed down the hall.
She almost wished he’d slammed the door, almost wished he’d made a spectacle of being angry and shutting her out again, after what she’d thought may have been progress the night before. 
It was almost that much worse that his door shut with a soft click.
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memes-saved-me · 3 years
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Nothing...
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Week after week nothing. No glimmer of hope. The same information about the same situation that wasn't getting any better or worse. That was the thing, at times he thought it getting worse would be better than nothing. A slow decline to the end would be something to feel, something to deal with. But that was stupid, nothing was better than worse.
Except, as he sat there in the room by the bed, machines beeping he couldn't help but feel this was pointless. Deep down that they were postponing the enviable. The end.
Still, he watched as his chest slowly rose and fell, his body attached to countless wires keeping him alive. Healing, he hoped.
But he knew he wasn't, that no matter how long they came here that if he didn't wake up it was all for nothing. That his mind could be long gone but his body being dragged along by technology he didn't understand.
Some nights he found himself sitting in his car outside, staring at his window hoping, praying to whatever controlled the rules of the universe that he would one day appear there. A silly thing but one that brought a brief moment of comfort.
Just as he reached for his hand, to feel his still warm skin the door opened and he jumped back. Joyce entered without a word, taking the seat beside him.
"Nothing new," She told him without needing to be asked. "He has to wake up before they know what to do."
"Yeah," Steve breathed.
"It's only been three weeks. He needs time to heal. I know he'll wake up, I just know it," She smiled and took his hand to squeeze it.
Steve nodded.
"It's just the last conversation we had...it wasn't the nicest."
"Then talk to him. He'll hear you somewhere in there," She replied, squeezed his hand again and stood up to leave. "He will already know you didn't mean whatever you said."
She closed the door quietly leaving them alone again. Wanting to get close he stood up and shuffled himself onto the corner of the bed and took his hand.
"I don't know if you can hear me but if you can, I'm the biggest idiot in the world," He began. "That night was my fault. I should've believed you, it's just with how Nancy was with Jonathan...I can get nervous about that sort of thing and when I saw how she looked at you it set something off and I was so wrong to accuse you like that."
For a moment he paused to just look at his scarred face, hair cut short and out of the way. Still so beautiful but nothing. No response. Not that he realistically expected him to wake up like some sort of movie but he looked almost dead. Asleep as if everything was okay.
"It was so dumb, she's a mother and married. You would never do that to me and I'm so sorry I said what I did. God, please just wake up Billy.....I need you here with me because without you there's nothing anymore," He took in a deep breath to keep it together. "I miss you so damn much. Please, just please come back to me. For Max or that trip, we planned to Chicago. Whatever it is just come back for it. Please."
He paused again but this time to stand up and get close to his ear. Making sure not to disturb the wires he whispered, "I love you more than anyone or anything. I really hope you know that."
With that, he cleared his throat and left to follow Joyce out of there and to the parking lot. His visitation being only allowed through her history with Dr Owens.
He nodded to her and smiled. A simple thank you, she did the same in return.
For the first time in what felt like centuries, he had the familiar warm feeling of hope in his chest as he sat in the driver's seat because maybe he would wake up and he knew deep down that he would be there for that. That he would come back every day if needed to talk him awake, make sure he knew exactly what he would be waking up to...
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