#and stay strong darling. and let yourself heal and grieve. give yourself all the time you need.
Text
Channeled Message from Your Soulmate’s Higher Self
(Disclaimer : This is a general reading please only take what resonate. For entertainment purposes only)
🧚🏻♀️ 💕 🍀 🌷 🌸 You are Loved 🌸 🌷 🍀 💕 🧚🏻♀️
Pile 1🌠 “Twin flames”
“I want to acknowledge your mastery of your own emotions. I love that you’ve learned not to control or shame your emotion but accept them for what they are. Your inner strength really shine through and it wasn’t easy so I want to congratulate you on that hard earned achievement, my love. Now your emotion can’t hold you back anymore from taking action. They do not dictate what you can or cannot do because frankly, there is nothing you can’t achieve in this world. You can basically manifest anything.
You are very intuitive and even psychic when we first met and I noticed that about you. I was surprised by how much you were able to pick up on. My feeling particularly because I was not that expressive. You’ve showed me how to balance between true inspired action and just doing things for the sake of doing it. It was hard for me to give something up or abandoned things I’ve started, even when I know it was passed due to do so. Leaving things,letting go of attachment is hard for me. I am the type to keep on reading a book or watching a movie till the end even when I am dead bored of them. There’s no reason for me to continue but there wasn’t a reason for me to leave either. So I’m stuck I guess, I’m very good at getting myself stuck, in the middle, hanging in- between staying or going. But you told me you found that endearing for some reason and gently took my hand and guide me out of my self- imposed prison. You have helped me heal my wound of abandonment, maybe that’s why it was hard to say goodbye to things and leave them, even though they do not serve me anymore.
I admire your sense of adventure, you are the most expressive person I’ve ever met. Even if you don’t know that about yourself. I feel quite a strong kinship with you, like this is not our first rodeo on this earth. Perhaps, we often have more adventures in our dreams, I know I do dreamt of you quite often. I just want to let you know that I love you, I love who are and who you were and who you are trying to become. Every versions of you amazed me cause your true strength alway shines through every time and I will alway recognised your bright essence anywhere.”
Love,
Your Soul Family
Signs: Rose, Lion/big cats, 111, Infinity, Pine trees,Crescent Moon
Love Quotes: "In the end, we all just want someone that chooses us over everyone else under any circumstances."
Song: I See the Light from Tangle
“….And at last I see the light
And it’s like the fog has lifted
And at last I see the light
And it’s like the sky is new
And it’s warm and real and bright
And the world has somehow shifted
All at once everything looks different
Now that I see you
Love Poem verse : Twin flames by @cant-find-my-name
…I recognised negative traits needed
To be discard,
When we met, I think I’ve found myself
The missing piece, part of my soul
Ah, you’re my Twin flames
When I met you I know
We’re one and the same
🧚🏻♀️ 💕 🍀 🌷 🌸 You are Loved 🌸 🌷 🍀 💕 🧚🏻♀️
Pile 2🍄 If Magic Was Real
"I hope you are taking time to fully sit in your emotions and grieve. It is okay to express your emotion, in fact, it is crucial if you need to cry or break down or just lose it emotionally. Give yourself that permission to do so. You might think that it's strong of you to keep it together for the sake of others or yourself. That it is so mature of you to do so but darling, there need to be a balance. You need to heal but you won't be able to heal if you won't let yourself feel all of your sadness. If you need to cry, cry it out I will be here with you. You are not alone in your sorrows. I would like to give this song to you, maybe it would help "Chiquitita by Cher". It seem you have broken a feather but don't worry, we will try to patch it up together.
I want to tell you that a renewal is coming to you. It was a hard chapter that you just experienced and I hate seeing you pretending to be fine. But your sad eyes is not fooling anyone. It is okay to be sad,to be angry, to let it all out ( in a healthy way not in a self destructive way please). I admired you for holding it together for this long, but more than anything, I want you to let go. Be vulnerable with yourself, I think that is the most beautiful thing. Witness the spectrum of human emotions, it is beautiful. It is time to rest in your nest for awhile until you’re able to fly again. Take all the time that you need, grieve all that there is, broken relationships, friendships, nostalgia. Whatever it is, I am alway there. Listen to music because I love sending you messages through these songs, it has really helped me through my hard time. So I’m hoping music could be a little comfort to you at this time. Take some time for yourself love, cause you definitely need it. Trust me that the sun will rise once more, and all that happened will just been a hard learned lesson and you’ve definitely learn a lot from it.
I know that the real you is not a sad person. You are the most vibrant, radiant, happiest soul I know. And sadness doesn’t suit you one bit, as well as pretending to be happy. You shine best when you are true to your feeling. Winter is over and I cannot wait to welcome you back into the season of spring.”
Love,
Your Soulmate
Signs: Black feathers, birds, 55, Tears drop
Love Quote : “He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”
Song : Chiquitita by Cher
Chiquitita, tell me the truth
I’m a shoulder you can cry on
Your best friend, I’m the one you must rely on
You were alway sure of yourself
Now, I see you’ve broken a feather
I hope we can patch it up together
Love Poem verse: If Magic Was Real by @cant-find-my-name
.. The world seem kind
When you’re around
To believe again
Is easy
When you’re with me
If Magic is real
It is where you’ll be
🧚🏻♀️ 💕 🍀 🌷 🌸 You are Loved 🌸 🌷 🍀 💕 🧚🏻♀️
Pile 3🫧 I’ll Never Forget
“You’re working so hard and so am I. We’re trying to do our own work, slowly building strong foundation for the future. Maybe out of fears than anything. This anxiety to keep on going, to do better and better, to improve, constantly striving for a better future. I get it, I feel it too, however, if we keep on going like this eventually our life forces will run out. And physically we can become ill and I really don’t want that for you. So I’m here to let you know that you can slow down, what you feared will not come true. Your deep, dark fears will not come alive. If you think you can’t stop because you think that the fears you feel will transpire. No, it will not, you’ve work hard enough. Outwardly and internally, I’ve watched you tried and tried and alway striving to do better. To be better, but honey, you are already enough for me. You alway will be, regardless of what you did or what you didn’t do or what you will do. I will alway believe that your existence alone is enough for me. To sooth my soul, to lift my spirit up. You don’t have to do anything for me, I am happy just to be with you, to exist with you, to be by your side and bath in your lovely presence
I know you have struggled from a lack mentality, I don’t know if you notice that about yourself. And that is nothing to be ashamed of , I‘m struggling with it too. I understand how you feel, no matter how much you have or how much you do, you just feel it’s never enough. True abundance come from the inside. And you are already enough with the proof that your heart beats for you, the blood flowing in your vein is proof that we meant to exist here as we are. No more, no less.
Please rest assured love, and take a break once in a while. Do something that’s not related to work. I want you to practice winding down, practice letting go and relaxing. No one ever teach us how to truly relax and it is a skill, it doesn’t come naturally to us and we can help each other relax. We can practice together, practice just existing without shame or guilt, or a pit in our stomach that things will go wrong if you don’t do anything. I want you to learned to have fun because when we’re together, it’ll become a skill that will help our relationship a lot. I want to have fun together with you and for you to tell me all about your adventures, your travels and your crazy journey. I can’t wait to just sit down and be with you. Take a vacation with you and have the time of our lives. You are my vacation home.”
Love from,
Your Honey bear
Signs : 88, Roses, Games, Festival, Spider, Designer brand
Love Quote : “I know from that first moment we met. It was not love at first sight exactly but familiarity. Like ‘oh hello’, it’s you. It’s going to be you.”
Song : Voyage by Kep1er
“The sound of waves surging in
Far beyond the horizon
Between the clouds, we going high
Follow me in my way
When the gentle breeze blows
Close your eyes and feel it
We arrived to an unfamiliar island
slowly open your eyes
Love Poem verse: I’ll Never Forget by @cant-find-my-name
Loneliness is a disease
But I think you’ve just cure me,
You make me so happy
I don’t recognise myself,
You warmed my hand
Around your coffee mug
And asked if I’m alright
Your voice sounded worried
And there’s concern sincerity’s in
Your eyes.
🧚🏻♀️ 💕 🍀 🌷 🌸 You are Loved 🌸 🌷 🍀 💕 🧚🏻♀️
Pile 4🌙Each Night
“Good evening, I hope to meet you again in our dream. I know you dreamed of me and questioned it. Believe in yourself my little star. Your dream is not lying to you. It is alright to hope, to wish, to believe in the impossible. Please don’t think that it’s ridiculous or childish to believe in true love, in soulmate and fairy tales. Because you’re not wrong to hope. Your soulmate exist and you know that but your fears trying to convince you otherwise. I am your soulmate and my message to you is to believe in me. I want to validate your feeling, your extraordinary senses. Your wish in that little star?, I heard it, the universe heard it too and we listen. To all of your wishes and it was not ridiculous of you to wish for love, true love. It is not unrealistic, or rose colour glasses. It is just something that you know you deserve and want to feel. We do not shame or guilt ourself for asking for more love.
I am alway with you, in your dream, in your waking life, in our past lives. That is why you can feel my presence so strongly. It is not just from your imagination. I want to assured you that, it is real. I am as real as the bark of a tree. I can feel you too but truthfully, my 3D self is not as intuitive as you. I tend to brush things off when they don’t make sense, so please don’t be like me.Things doesn’t need to make sense now,it will eventually come together. Unfolding naturally, beautifully. I know you see my signs everywhere and is questioning reality. You are not going mad, just a head up from me. We will meet soon, in a way that you won’t believe. I won’t either but we both know that we wish for this desperately. Earth has been achingly lonely for me. And knowing you exist have helped alleviate the ache a bit. I want you to take your time with life, don’t rush cause when we come together, we can continue this journey together in an even pace,step by step.
Love,
Yours
Signs : North Star, Dove, Diamond shape, Cocoon of a butterfly, 8910, 2020
Love Quotes: “He loves you very much” she said, but more than that, he cares for you. Sometimes love is not as important as truly caring for the other person.
Song : Surefire by John Legend
“Let me breath you in ‘till gravity bends
And we fall through the hole in the light
Make this our kingdom
Somewhere where good love conquers and not
Divides”
Love Poem verse : Each Night by @cant-find-my-name
Oh distance shore
I beg of you
Please no more,
Please don’t keep us apart
I can’t take it
This is destroying my heart,
We are one and it’s time to be
Together again
Next to each other
Hand in Hand
Feel you touch my skin
Smell your scent
I breathe you in………
🧚🏻♀️ 💕 🍀 🌷 🌸 You are Loved 🌸 🌷 🍀 💕 🧚🏻♀️
Thank you so much for reading!. If this resonate please leave a tip if you like. See you soon!
Check out more of my original poems at @cant-find-my-name .
#pick a card#esoteric#messages#love messages#channeled reading#channeled message#higher self#soulmates#love letters#love reading#tarot messages#tarot reading
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pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc
genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff and future angst
word count: 3.2k
WARNINGS: ANGST, VIOLENCE, GUNS
a/n: we are nearing the end guys :( and i promise, it’s a HAPPY ENDING! but for now we have to face the angst, i’m so sorry. disclaimer!! as i have said from the previous parts, i am not well-versed with investigations and court procedures. PLEASE CORRECT ME IF I’M WRONG. thank you very much!! please enjoy this new part and hit my ask box with what you think of it <3
nine: grief | masterlist
Wonwoo has had difficult times in his life and he has managed to overcome them all. Growing up in the public eye, fulfilling duties decreed to him even before he became a teen, a break-up, excelling both academically and physically and most of all, loving himself for who he is. He knows his parents did everything in their power and love to make it a little easier for him. They are the reasons he kept going and going.
But his heart can’t seem to carry this overwhelming heaviness.
His parents wanted to end the engagement immediately. It was an argument, an angry one. His mother had her ears closed even before he could speak meanwhile his father’s closed lips already said it all. Of course, he was defensive. He understands his parents concern for their citizens, but nothing is final until a verdict is reached. He has to come back to Jung and Sam and he has to come back to you. Surely enough, when he stepped out of the doors of his home, he had chosen love over duty.
It’s just that he didn’t know that you had different plans.
“Where’s the pretty lady?” Sam asks out of the blue while he plays with the new toys Wonwoo brought for the kids at the welfare.
He has been visiting them frequently, at least four times a week in between his hospital schedule. Especially after you decided that he should distance himself from you, he has been in and out of here because the boys are one of the only reasons he’s here other than you. He’s hoping you only meant a break if that’s what you wanted. Because he’d give it to you with as much distance as you want just come back to him. Come back to him because he doesn’t and can’t let you go.
“She’s a bit busy now,” he tries to make up an excuse and Sam raises his sparkling eyes at his face, probably searching for some truth in his lie.
“You look different when she’s around,” the young boy says and goes back to his toys.
Wonwoo’s ears perk and his brows knit in question. “What do you mean?”
“Jung thinks I don’t see it, but his face,” Sam explains and gestures to his tiny yet swelling cheeks. “It changes because of this girl here that I think he’s crushing.”
Wonwoo can’t help the growing smile on his face. “Jung has a crush?”
“Yes.” Sam bobs his head cutely. “You’re just like Jung with the pretty lady around.”
“How about now?” He asks the observant boy who purses his tiny lips before narrowing his eyes at him.
“You look a little sad.”
Wonwoo didn’t need to ask who’s the pretty lady Sam was talking about because to him, you’re the only pretty lady in his life (second to his mother of course even though she’s angry at him at the moment). He tried to not make it obvious. He doesn’t want anyone to see him that the controversy and your father’s arrest is breaking the two of you apart. He can’t let them see him falling apart for that matter because he wants you to see him confident and strong.
He doesn’t want to further fuel your doubts and fears. If he can’t support you closely, he’ll do his best to support you even from afar.
That’s why life for him continued. He goes to work, attends to his patients and co-workers needs, he eats, he exercises and he even entertains drinking with Soonyoung despite having to take care of him because of how fast he gets drunk.
It’s an ineffective distraction because he misses you terribly. He misses going to your office just to take you away from your computer, he misses driving around town with you in the passenger seat and listening to your stories, he misses sleeping over at your apartment after a tiring day shift, he misses your warm and welcoming embrace, he misses your shy and soft kisses against his lips, cheeks, nose, forehead, neck and everywhere else.
Did he tell you he misses you?
He sends you messages every day. He doesn’t call and he doesn’t wait for a reply. He just wants you to know that he’s here whenever you’re ready. Jeongyeon is kind enough to keep him in the loop, but the updates are very minimal because she’s still your subject and she doesn’t want to hurt you any further.
For a moment, Wonwoo was afraid to take the leap. But when you asked him if he still wants to marry you which could be equivalent to you ending things, he had to. If you stay or not, he had to say it with all his heart. You had to know because he was sure that whatever it is his whole being is feeling, it’s only for you.
“I love you.”
Your heart drops at his confession, making you sob to the palm of your hands. He can’t do this to you right now. It’s already hard and painful. You want to be selfish, but it would be wrong to let him suffer with you when he has been nothing but kind and honest.
“You’re not your father, Y/N,” he promises and holds your hands down. “Please look at me.”
You shake your head, sniffling. You want to scream you love him too. But the words are nothing but a lump at the back of your throat. You continue shedding your tears and the sight breaks Wonwoo’s heart.
“It’s okay.” He lifts your head up by your cheeks. He wipes your tears away even though it’s futile. He wishes to share with your anguish, but he also respects the desires of your heart.
His smile was small when he leans down and briefly presses a kiss to your trembling lips. You accept it, fearing it might be the last. You also listen to his last words before he leaves with his bag and coat because it also might be the last time you’ll ever hear them.
“I love you.”
The rain patters on the roof of the car when Wonwoo’s words echoed inside your head. Just the thought of what had transpired the last few days brings tears to your eyes. You haven’t seen him since that night and the longing is unbearable. You wish to hear his voice, feel his touch against you or just see him. But you can’t and you have to persevere through it because you owe justice and accountability to your people.
You haven’t spoken to your mother even if you tried. She’s just tired, so tired you can’t bring a word out of her. You try to be understanding and a little more patient. After all, getting over a betrayal doesn’t happen overnight. That’s why you continued working even though almost every client you have has backed down and declined your services. Nonetheless, you still go to your office every day as if everything is okay. You drink your coffee, you run over your files and even do a little organizing and disposing here and there.
Your father’s first trial is today and you’re on your way to speak to him at his detention center. This is the first time you’ll see him aside from the television and newspapers. You’ve been crying ever since he got taken away. You can’t help it. You already know the truth and there’s no blinding away from it. But you want to hear from your father, whom you thought you have known all your life. You want his truth and maybe find some closure.
When you arrive at the parking lot, the rain has ceased and little by little the temperature is rising again. You really wish things were different. Something in you wishes that this is a set-up. You wish that your father was innocent and only being framed. But there is a bigger something that’s telling you to throw away those wishful thoughts because it’s wrong.
You ask yourself, am I angry at my father? while walking to the entrance leading to the visitor’s area. I should be, right? You argue because your family name and career is tarnished. Your upcoming marriage is no different which is most likely to be over.
“Hi my darling,” The King, stripped from his expensive suit, greets you with his usual smile.
The glass between you and your father is clear enough to see that he doesn’t look good. Your father used to look every day ready with his suit on and slick back hair. But right now, he doesn’t. Tears well up in your eyes but you hold it in. It will take a long time to get used to seeing him like this. It will take a painfully long one.
Maybe you’re not angry. Maybe you’re just hurting.
“Hi dad,” you greet back. “How are you?”
The old man smiles and warms his thighs with his hands while looking around the small room. “I’m okay.”
You nod and the cold silence engulfs the room.
“I’m sorry darling,” he finally says and hearing those words made you burst into tears. He sees you crying and this is the first time he can’t reach his hand out to wipe the tears away. “I’m really sorry that your father’s greed has left you and your mother a wound that might never heal.”
Greed. The news, the Royal Police, the prosecution and everyone else were talking about this. They’re still talking about this. It’s scandalous, it’s controversial. It’s unbelievable too. How could the head and protector of the kingdom do this?
How could your father do this?
“Dad,” you sob. “Dad.”
“I know,” he tells you. “I know.”
“Please tell me they’re lying,” you begged, your voice shaking.
“I cannot betray you any further, my darling,” he sadly says. “I have to set you all free from my lies.”
You harshly rub your fingers against your eyes, trying to dry the tears that won’t stop from falling. “Who’s Kim Mingyu?”
The alarming buzz! blasts, indicating that your time’s up. You’re quick to your feet and hold your sweating palm against the glass. Your father mirrors your action but it didn’t last long because he was being handcuffed again.
“Remember,” he says, struggling a little against the two uniformed men. “You are your own person, my darling.”
Maybe you’re not hurting. Maybe you’re grieving because you just lost your father.
You know who Kim Mingyu is. You already knew before you could even ask your father. You just wanted to know how your father met him and entangled himself with such a man. What led him to fall for his lies and money that he could trade every ounce of dignity and integrity in his being? Something of that sort.
Kim Mingyu’s mining business was proposed to the Secretary of the Trade and Industry Department. A mining business that will have children go underground for long agonizing hours. At first, they were immediately rejected knowing that there’s an obvious and strict law disallowing foreigners to the kingdom’s mineral resources. Much more the exploitation of young children. But, Mingyu was ambitious and a sniper to every man's weakness. It didn’t take long for the Secretary of the Trade and Industry to bite. It was easily followed by the Secretary of the Justice Department and your father. They all, among many others, eventually fell for his trap. Everything worked out for Kim Mingyu.
Your hip is against the hood of the car as you watched the prison guards surround the vehicle your father will ride to the court. Everyone is on high alert. Well, they should be. No one else is more high profile than a criminal king. It’s only the first trial but you’re already more than aware of how things will turn out in the end.
You clutch the lifebuoy pendant of the necklace you’re wearing, nervous and trying to keep everything together.
You could leave now, but the time and opportunity to see your father is running out. This prison is the only place you could linger just to see him, even for a short while. You won’t be able to follow him at court because Seungkwan advised you not to. Which you understand. This whole case involving your father is already causing a media frenzy so staying away is the smart thing to do.
As you wait, your phone suddenly rings with an unknown number flashed on the screen. You blink, wondering who could it be at this hour. After a beat of hesitation, you answered and held the phone against your ear.
“Hello?”
“Ah, Princess Y/N. How’s the King doing?”
You’re not that forgetful to not recognize this voice. “Mr. Kim, how did you get my number?”
“That’s not important right now,” he dodges the question. “What’s important is what I am about to tell you.”
“What do you want from me?” You say with gritted teeth and from your peripheral you can see the guards scramble. Your father is about to come out.
You can hear him scoff. “I don’t want anything from you, Your Highness. But listen…”
Your heart starts to beat faster. It’s a hard visual but your father is nearing the exit. Your bottom lip is starting to hurt from how hard you’re biting it and the few seconds of pause and suspense that Mingyu’s giving you is not helping at all.
“Listen you sick---” He cuts you off and your blood runs cold.
“I’m going to kill your father.”
What is the fondest memory that you have of your father?
They’re too many to count and every memory with him, small and big, will always mean everything to you. But as an example, it would be the day you finally took oath as a lawyer. He didn’t tell you, but he, together with your mother, was secretly present at the venue. He told you beforehand that they shouldn’t go because he didn’t want the people to make you uncomfortable and steal the spotlight. You ignored his lame excuse of fame and told him that he can do whatever he wants.
But he was really there. Tears brimming on his eyes together with pride beaming on his heart. Your mother had to calm him down because he got a little out of control, almost screaming with all his chest at the venue that you’re his daughter.
You only found out when you hopped on the car and they’re inside with a small cake, flowers and party hats on, shouting loud congratulations and surprise simultaneously.
Your father was always there. Your parents were.
You remember those when you ran and pushed your way against the guards blocking your father’s view. You were frantic as you screamed at them to get your father back inside. You fought with all your strength and thrashed against their hold just to reach your father. When you slipped away from them, you ran again, fast.
You did your best to not get caught. You just have to be close to your dad and push him back inside. You just have to be close to him. You just have to protect him.
You have to be there for him.
“Please stop!” You shout when another guard takes hold of your waist, locking you to the ground. “You have to bring my father back inside!”
“You’re Highness, please calm down!” The guard shouts back and you fight against him. When he didn’t let you go, you stomped the heel of your shoe on his feet, making him fall in pain.
“Dad!” You call when you’re finally nearing him. His head lifts up at the sound of your voice and searches for you among the sea of men. “Please! You have to take him back inside! I received a call from Kim Ming---”
BANG!
BANG!
It was searingly fast. Your whole body collapses on the sweltering concrete before you could reach your father and when his eyes finally find you, you are already swimming in the pool of your blood.
“It’s always good to see you Mrs. Wang,” Wonwoo compliments the old lady who’s starting to frequent the emergency room. “But not in this manner.”
The old lady gives him a cheeky grin and pinches one of his cheeks. If Wonwoo doesn’t know any better, she’s doing this to not get scolded any further.
“Your blood sugar is high and I don’t think your granddaughter appreciates her grandma endangering her own life,” he lightly scolds her, if that’s how he can put it. He’s still a doctor after all. “She loves you and she wants you to be healthy when she walks down the aisle in the future.”
Mrs. Wang gives him a silent nod at the mention of her granddaughter, promising that she won’t disobey anymore. That relieves Wonwoo, his lips lifting in a smile. He signs her clearance and hands it back to the nurse. After a few more instructions, he takes his leave and walks back to the information desk.
He takes one of the patients charts to read. The phone rings and the nurse in charge immediately picks it up and answers. At first, Wonwoo didn’t bother looking up from the paper because emergency calls happen every three seconds. But when there was an eerie silence amidst the loud and busy room, his curiosity made his head tilt up only to get surprised at the widened eyes the nurse was giving him.
He was about to ask what’s wrong but when he heard the sound of the siren nearing, he ignores his suspicions and runs to the entrance.
The ambulance parks at a safe distance and the paramedics get out. They move quickly to get the patient out and when they see him, their mouth falls open but no words come out.
Wonwoo didn’t notice so he proceeded to ask, “How’s the patient?”
“Wonwoo!”
Soonyoung almost tripped on his feet as he tried to get a hold of his friend. He takes his arms and tries to pull him away from the ambulance he’s about to open. Wonwoo is starting to get irritated at the bizarre and disconcerting feeling that’s starting to settle in the emergency room.
Wonwoo knocks him off with a glare. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Wonwoo, please,” Soonyoung begs with an unsteady voice, clinging to his friend.
“Female, late twenties, two gunshot wounds,” one of the paramedics finally yet carefully reports while the other opens the doors of the ambulance. “It’s Her Highness, Princess Y/N.”
Wonwoo roughly removes his friends hand from his arm to step closer to the ambulance and when he sees your lifeless body, he didn’t waste any more time and helped the paramedics move the stretcher out. Soonyoung can see his friend’s hands shaking as he takes hold of the bloodied gurney. He knows he has to stop him right now.
“Baby,” Wonwoo calls as he runs and wheels you inside. You can’t hear him, but he has to try. He observes proper protocol of transferring you to the bed of the emergency room before applying more pressure to your wounds. You have lost a lot of blood already and it’s not helping Wonwoo that he can’t see your eyes.
“Please, please, please,” Wonwoo whispers as he removes all the obstructions on your body and when his eyes catch the necklace he gave around your neck, his legs grow weak and removing it from you made his tears fall.
“Baby, please,” he pleads. “Open your eyes, hmm?”
Soonyoung steps in together with the doctor who will perform the surgery and take everything from here. He slowly pulls his friend away from your body. Wonwoo didn’t protest anymore, there’s nothing in him left to do so. Your blood is in his hands, in his white coat, it’s everywhere.
This is not the distance Wonwoo wanted.
He can’t be apart from you forever.
#seventeen#wonwoo#seventeen scenarios#wonwoo scenarios#seventeen imagines#wonwoo imagines#seventeen scenario#wonwoo scenario#seventeen fluff#wonwoo fluff#seventeen imagine#wonwoo imagine#seventeen angst#wonwoo angst#seventeen wonwoo#wonwoo seventeen#fic: ifliys
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You Mean the World to Me
Summary: The house feels like a tomb. Three years to the day, you stand in front of the mirror, smoothing out your black silk blouse and spraying down a flyaway or two with a touch more hair spray.
Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader
Word Count: 4K
Warnings: HEAVY angst. Non-fappable Smut.
A/N: Remember when I said this one would get better? I lied.
The song for this one is: Freya Ridings - You Mean the World To Me
The house feels like a tomb. Three years to the day, you stand in front of the mirror, smoothing out your black silk blouse and spraying down a flyaway or two with a touch more hair spray. You double-check that your mascara is waterproof, and that your lipstick isn’t on your teeth.
With a deep, shaking breath, you force yourself to look in the mirror, knowing appearances matter today. It’s why you asked Henry to tie his hair back and trim his beard, if only a little. Though the gathering itself is private, you know better than to think your husband won’t be photographed on the way there and back, despite all effort being made to keep things secret.
After all, Henry hasn’t been photographed since landing at Heathrow all those years ago, and the public is voracious in its curiosity.
You give a soft smile to his reflection as he steps up behind you, looking dapper in an all-black suit. Nearly back to the size you remember him being, the only indicators that things have changed for Henry, are so subtle most wouldn’t even notice. Fine lines map the grief on his face, connecting seamlessly to the fetching swaths of gray in his hair, and ink stains beneath his azurite gaze mark the innumerous sleepless nights and long, taxing days. It’s the emptiness, however, that shows the true extent of the damage. Smiles no longer reach his eyes, if they manage to present themselves at all. Words are carefully selected and thoughtfully spoken in a soft, hushed tone that lacks any true animation.
The man you knew, the one who brought light to every room he entered, has been extinguished and all that remains are the pieces of a heart battered to a pulp by a cruel fate.
No matter how barbaric life has been towards him, however, one thing it has never taken is his gentility. Though Henry goes through the motions in every other area of his life, with you he is painfully tender, doting, and attentive. He goes out of his way to ensure you want for nothing, and he’s never short on the little gestures that move mountains. Each morning you’re awoken with a kiss, and each night he makes sure the sheets are wrapped up around you just how you like. He does everything around the house, leaving you free to heal in your own time, never once so much as asking for help.
For all the gentleness he exudes, below it lays the torment, and each day it rises, drowning Henry slowly. Just as you notice the tenderness with which he treats you, it’s hard to miss the way he neglects himself. Aside from maintaining his physique (something you’re almost certain he does solely for the benefit of friends and family), he’s given up on almost everything he had a passion for. Figures sit in their original packaging, waiting to be painted. The TV is rarely switched to something he enjoys, forever tuned to your channels instead. Books gather dust, and his riding gear has long been stored away in the recesses of a closet somewhere in the house, never to be seen again. The only thing he still takes a smattering of time to enjoy are his games, and you don’t need to ask to know the ‘why’ behind it. Even a drowning man needs to shut his brain off, and slipping into another world is the easiest way to do so.
“Ready, my love?” He whispers, your heart breaking all over again for him as you take in the thin line of his lips, pressing tightly into a smile against what you know is a clenched jaw. Henry’s always on the brink of tears and it’s more than evident how hard he fights it for you.
Today will be harder on him than anyone else, as he never got to say goodbye. Never got to hold the daughter he helped create. Never truly got to grieve her loss. It makes you feel selfish in comparison, though he would never accuse you of such.
He holds up your black blazer for you to slip your arms through, his hands careful and gentle as they smooth the material over your shoulders. You close your eyes as he opens his mouth to speak again, knowing what’s coming.
“You look beautiful, darling.”
It’s hard to understand why he even still cares for you after everything you’ve put him through and the guilt threatens to cut off your air as you turn and gaze up at the man you love more than anything. Straightening his tie, you shake your head, frowning.
“You don’t need to say nice things to me. Not today.” Lip quivering, you rest your hand over his heart for a moment before walking out of the room, giving Henry the privacy you know he needs to compose himself. His tell is the small vein next to his eye, one that only strains when he can no longer bear to fight. You wish you could make it disappear forever, but you don’t know how. He won’t let you in, won’t let you carry even a pocketful of the load he’s been hauling for years; the weight that’s slowly sinking him past the point of no return.
Clutching your own heart as you hear him turn on the faucet to mask the sounds of his tears, you wonder, not for the first time, if this gathering won’t be the straw that breaks him for good. Breathing deeply, you fight your own heartbreak, willing yourself to be the rock for once.
Henry grips your hand tightly in his as you and the rest of the attendants walk briskly through the gates of Brompton, ignoring the cries of photographers, all clamoring to get their first pictures of Henry in three years. His brothers shield you both from the brunt of it, but it still leaves you feeling dizzy and out of sorts, even when you reach the relative privacy of the chapel.
After regrouping, your small gathering of friends and family head towards the gravestone Henry’s mother had dutifully commissioned and overseen the installation of. Neither of you had any input, you because of the condition you were in, and Henry because he couldn’t even bear to hear it spoken of without having a full panic attack.
Though appropriately small, the onyx headstone brings tears to your eyes immediately, due to the detail in the angel that lays atop it, the artist having mixed the gray stone statue seamlessly with wispy clouds at the top of the polished black granite. It’s the first time you’ve seen your daughter’s name written anywhere, and it instantly knocks the wind from your lungs, leaving you wobbling.
Henry’s strong arms hold you up until you can find your footing again, tucking you in close to his side as any hope of being the strong one, of fighting against the painful memories is lost. Crying softly into the lapel of his jacket, you wonder how he’s able to hold it together, until you remember that he’s had three years of practice, three years of putting his pain dead last in the list of priorities. Still, it’s impossible to miss the tremor in his hands and the subtle rocking of his body as he valiantly picks up the fight you’ve already lost.
None of the speeches reach your ears, your eyes focused entirely on the gravestone, your mind replaying the sole image of your daughter in your thoughts over and over again. Gripping Henry’s suit tightly, you remember how serene her face was, how perfectly formed in every way she had been; how much you yearned for her to take her first breath and let out a cry.
As the ceremony ends and the small crowd begins to disperse, you feel Henry pull away, handing you off to one of his brothers with an encouraging nod and words you can barely make out. You don’t fight it, no matter how much you wish he’d let you stay, let you into his grief. If nothing else, he’s earned the right of saying goodbye to the daughter he so longed for, the one he never got to meet, in private. Looking over your shoulder, fresh tears stream down your face as you watch your husband fall to his knees. His scream is silent, one hand gripping his own head in a vice, the other clutching the headstone as though it were a life preserver in a raging sea. You’ve never seen a man more broken and for the first time, you wonder if Henry will survive this at all. One thought runs through your head on repeat as you’re ushered into one of the black sedans in the small convoy.
He didn’t deserve this. None of it. It was all your fault.
In the days that follow, Henry’s doting becomes almost unbearable. You walk on eggshells around him and he cares for you like fine crystal, both of you terrified that the other will shatter, never to be repaired. Yet, despite your reticence to be looked after, your growing anger that he won’t let you help in any way, you can’t, in good conscience, keep him from carrying out his daily rituals, knowing it’s all he has.
Henry treats each kiss from you as though it will be his last, lips lingering on yours just a little longer than necessary. When you hug, it’s as though you’re imbuing him with just enough energy to make it through another day. You quickly realize that aside from you, he has nothing tethering him to life. Despite his family being ever caring and concerned, despite friends doing their best to rally around him, it seems as though Henry is simply waiting to draw his last breath, waiting for his heart to finally give out under all the pressure. The only reason he doesn’t let go is because you’re still here. You wish once more that he would just give over some of his pain, allow himself some small relief, no matter how quickly it came and went.
You catch him crying silently at his computer one morning, his favorite game paused in favor of gazing out the window. Breaths shallow and scratchy, it’s as though each inhale lacerates his windpipe. It’s an image you know will be burned into your memory forever, and before you can stop yourself, you’re pulling him into your arms, holding fast as he does his best to wrestle out of your grip in order to wipe his eyes and pretend like everything is fine.
“What’s the matter, love?” He asks, his voice that of a drowning man, Henry managing to push you far away enough to see your face. The fear and shame in his eyes startles you, but it’s the smile, so tender and compassionate that plunges the knife straight into your heart.
“Stop this.” You beg, your own tears falling furiously as you cup his face in your hands, despairing when his eyes soften and the kindness in them focuses directly on you.
“I’m okay, my love. I promise.” Even as he says the words, Henry’s face crumples and the floodgates finally give way. All the fight leaves him and his body goes limp in your arms before every muscle tenses back up as though made of stone.
You hold him tightly as it all comes rushing out, Henry’s keening wail muffled against your sternum, his anguish palpable in a way you’ve never experienced before, even on the night your memory came back to you.
“Why?” The question leaves his lips like a mantra and at first, you think he’s just asking rhetorically, but when he manages to look up at you, it’s clear he wants an answer.
“Why did you go through it all alone? Why didn’t you have them call me?” Henry says between gasps for air, his chest heaving as the hurt comes through full force. The realization that he went through three years’ worth of suffering without ever truly knowing why, hammers the knife back into your heart and leaves you momentarily speechless.
“It was my responsibility to keep her safe and I...I failed,” you whimper, the pain simmering through every inch of your chest. “It was the one thing you wanted more than anything, Henry, and I fucked it all up. It was my fault. It was all my fault!”
He crushes you to him, shaking his head, unwilling to accept the answer as fact. You sob into the crook of his neck, the same panic you’d felt that night coming back in breathtaking speed. Henry’s tenderness radiates in waves, and while his own tears don’t slow, his body relaxes some, secure in the new knowledge he finally possesses. You feel his lips press to the crown of your head, one hand squeezing the nape of your neck gently while the other does laps up and down your spine, Henry putting himself on the back-burner yet again.
“It was never, ever your fault, my love. The doctor said it would have happened regardless of how closely you’d been monitored. Sometimes life is just cruel, but it was never your fault. I will never blame you for the loss of our child. Never. I just wish...I wish I could have b-been there to h-help you th-through it.”
The ache in his voice pulls another whimper from your lips and as you finally get your wish and take on some of his burden, you realize how grave an error in judgement you’d made that night. Trying to keep him from the pain of loss had only amplified it exponentially for both of you.
Days turn to weeks, and little by little, you move back into a familiar comfort with one another. Gone are the eggshells, replaced with wine, movies, and the occasional dance in the kitchen while dinner is cooking. You’re healing, falling in love all over again, but Henry...Henry’s lagging behind.
Though he no longer hides his bad days from you, and they do indeed get less frequent, you can’t help but notice what seems to be a permanent change in the man you love. Like a soldier after an arduous tour of duty, Henry seems to let life just come at him without any reasonable reaction. Good or bad, he remains placid, eyes always holding the sadness you’re now certain will never truly leave him. Though his smiles get brighter, they still don’t reach his gaze, at times leaving you uncertain of whether he’s genuinely experiencing happiness or just watching it pass him by as though it were a paper boat on a lazy river.
It's most apparent at night when he watches you get ready for bed. You’ve grown comfortable enough with him that changing in front of him is no longer something to blush about, and though it took a while to get back in the habit, you now do so every night without a second thought. It was silly, really, when you considered that he’d been solely responsible for your care for two years. You were horrified to learn the details of said care, having never wanted to put Henry in such a position, but he’d merely shrugged it off as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
“It was never a question in my mind, love. You’re my wife. My responsibility is first and foremost to your care and happiness. I couldn’t leave that in the hands of anyone else.”
Disrobing in front of him is about as intimate as you get nowadays, but not for lack of trying. Every little spot you remembered from before has been kissed and caressed in the hopes of rousing him to attention. Each time, Henry will gently stop you, his eyes filled with shame and regret despite the tender smile of understanding. Logically, he knows you want to be intimate again, wants that part of your relationship to come back, but he can’t bring himself to do it, fearing a repeat of history. You know, because it’s the same fear you tamp down each time you try, hoping that this time will be different.
So when his soft voice breaks through the otherwise-silent room one night, it catches you off guard.
“Let me see you,” Henry whispers, his expression holding something different in it as you turn to face him. Brow somewhat furrowed, his eyes carry a mixture of awe and longing as he lets his gaze slip over your nude form. Your heart clenches when you see his eyes shimmer with tears, Henry’s mouth parted softly, as though he’s breathing his last.
Sitting up against the headboard, hands folded in his lap, he smiles fondly as his gaze meets yours once more. You don’t dare speak, letting him have his fill, knowing this the most he’s tried to do in a long, long time. Henry lets out a shaky sigh, and the tears slip down his cheeks, making your heart ache.
“You’re breathtaking. Simply breathtaking, in every way.”
Your own lip quivers as you take a step forward, hoping against hope that this is what he needs to heal that much further.
“You’re not so bad yourself, you know,” you murmur, cupping his face in your hand, your fingers scratching gently at the beard that’s become more familiar than the once-smooth face you remember.
Henry laughs softly, and it’s as though the heavens have opened up. Gazing into each other’s eyes, you find the courage to say what’s been on your mind for the last few days.
“I miss us. I miss making love, Henry. I miss feeling you inside me. More than anything though, I miss us not being afraid of each other like this. I want to try again, Henry. I want another chance at…” You can’t finish, the words turning into the faintest of whispers as you wait for his reaction your own tears sliding down your face.
“I’m scared. Scared of things going wrong, scared of not being there again.” Henry admits, his voice pinching as he looks up at you helplessly. “Scared that I’ll lose you.”
“I am too, Henry. But I’m more scared of losing us than anything else. I can handle anything fate wants to throw in our faces if I have you by my side. I know that now. But I can’t sit by and watch our love die because we’re too scared to nurse it back to life after a storm.”
You’re taken by surprise when Henry reaches up and cups the back of your neck, bringing you down for a tender kiss so filled with desperate yearning, it leaves you breathless. Without hesitation, he pulls you into his lap, deepening the contact. Blindly, you reach up and undo the band holding Henry’s hair in place. You want every part of him to be free, including the wild mane of curls he normally keeps pristinely tied back. It seems to release something inside him because before you know it, you’re on your back and he’s shimmying out of the lounge pants he wears to bed.
His lips light a path all along your body, desire mixed with a deep-seated longing for the physical intimacy he hasn’t experienced in years. Where most men would have tried to get back at it at the first opportunity, Henry was saintly in his patience, waiting for you to be comfortable, to be ready, to initiate. Turning you down had never been his intention; just a knee-jerk reaction to an overabundance of pain that he’s still trying to cope with.
Your hands card through his curls as you let him learn your body anew, let him come to terms with his fears as he kisses, licks, and sucks every inch of you. Sounds of relief escape between panting breaths, relief not only that he can still be with you in this way, but that he’s not as broken as he’d assumed. Your own hand sliding down slowly from his hip confirm that at least one of his fears has been assuaged and you don’t miss the flicker of excitement and arousal in his blue eyes as he feels your touch.
Henry comes back to your lips, kissing with more energy and passion than you’ve felt since waking, each physical display of love mending your heart a little more. Finally, the man you remember is returning. Little by little, your husband, the other half of your soul, is coming back to you. It’s enough to bring fresh tears to your eyes, tears you blink away quickly, not wanting them to ruin the moment. Henry doesn’t miss it however, kissing them away and making you whimper.
Meeting your gaze, he poses a final question silently, and you can only manage to nod, unable to so much as think of saying no.
It’s different than you remember; better. He takes his time, his sole focus on your pleasure, even while you’re focused on his. The kisses amplify every thrust, your hips moving as one, connected mind, body, and soul. It isn’t long before your both coated in a thin sheen of sweat, eyes locked on one another as you move towards release together.
The heated ache at your core only grows as Henry slips your legs over his broad shoulders, intentionally deepening every movement he makes inside you. Mouth parted, you can only watch your husband in awe as he works your body from memory, knowing exactly what feels right.
It doesn’t take much for either of you to reach your peaks, time away from the primal act causing every sensation to be intensified, and it’s not until your gazes lock once more that you realize you’ll both fall over the edge together.
The gravity of what’s happening hits the two of you immediately after the first wave of pleasure, but it’s too late; there’s nothing to be done for it. You squeeze Henry’s hands, begging him to meet your gaze once more, but his own eyes are tightly shut.
He keeps them closed as he lifts your right leg over his head, bringing it to join your left at his shoulder. Your tears come unbidden as you realize what he’s doing.
“Henry!” You squeak out, gripping his hand tighter, beside yourself with the amount of love you feel for your husband, the fear of the future, and the hope that this time, it’ll work out better than it did the first time.
Henry finally opens his eyes, his gaze meeting yours for a moment before he closes them again, sobbing. His free hand strokes your calf gently, his other shaking in your grip, and when he finally speaks, you can hear the release of his heart as clearly as you’d felt the release of his seed moments earlier.
“I love you so much! You mean the world to me.”
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Hi! I really love your writing! Can you write a fic where MC has been nothing but supportive of Jumin while he was dealing with the consequences of V and Rika actions, but one day Jumin finds her crying in the arms of a character of your choice. She was crying because she is mad at V and Rika for treating him like that, causing him so much pain but she feels she can't show her pain to him and complicate things more for him (is basically how I feel lol) make it pretty please? Thanks!!
*Follow the event of the Secret ending, with the change of MC ending up with Jumin rather than Seven.
Hidden grief
(Jumin x MC) [slight angst]
.
The days, though to the outside world were nothing out of the usual, only seemed to be rolling over slower and slower with each passing day. The events had rattled the whole group without a doubt: Yoosung was absolutely distraught about everything he had come to know, Seven couldn’t even find the words to describe how betrayed he felt, Jaehee was struggling to keep things in line as she felt she had to, Zen didn’t know how to react, and Jumin… Jumin tried so very hard to ignore the situation and get on with life as normal. That was the default answer to every problem at its core. Continue as normal and there’d be minor consequences to the actions which had been unforeseen; his work wouldn’t suffer and neither would he. Yet, MC knew otherwise.
They hadn’t been together long but he had felt more comfortable in her presence than he had in anyone else’s. He hadn’t been afraid to express himself and his feeling around her; she was his haven, his sanctuary, and the light he so dearly loved. But Jumin was mourning- grieving the death of the closest friend he had and questioning the friendship he so dearly relied on in his youth and up until now. He may have appeared as level headed and stoic to everyone else but MC could see so clearly past that, he was aching and hurting but was so adamant it was the opposite.
His mind, bless him, was a mess. The threads within his head tangled relentlessly, forming kinks and knots to a scale he’d never experience before. MC could clear his head within an instant but this was just too big to simply be tackled by her angelic words or actions. Still, he had to keep that demeanour she knew in tact the best he could; his threads and issues would no longer just effect him, he had his love at his side, and his fiancée mattered to him more than anything else. The memories of his, now seemingly irrelevant, youth played repetitively in his mind with every passing second, but life had to continue and he had to keep things as normal a physically possible- for the business, himself, and MC.
“Jumin, darling… Are you coming to bed?” His fiancée’s voice filled the small space of his home office from where she stood in the doorway. Her voice was quiet, caring, and as gentle as ever and she clutched as the fabric of her nightgown over her chest.
Jumin tapped his pen on his desk, his eyes now struggling to stay focused on the sheets of paperwork before him. “I have an important meeting tomorrow.”
Quiet as a mouse, MC’s footsteps were barely audible as she stepped closer to his desk. “It’s so late, Jumin…” her voice was calming as her hands moved to hold herself reassuringly.
“I know,” he looked to her figure, she was barely shaking- cold- and tired, he pitied her for the situation he had inevitably put her in, “I just need to get this finished.”
“You’re overworking yourself… You need time to rest after what’s happened.” Jumin’s eyes subtly met her’s; they were so full of pain and anger but he wouldn’t say as much.
He was quick to ignore her comments: “Go to bed, MC. It’s not good for your health to stay awake until these hours.”
“And your health?” She questioned, her tone more adamant now. “I need you to be okay as well. Please, just come to bed.” Her pleas were heartfelt and genuine as the fabric in her knuckles creased into a mess of wrinkles.
He swallowed thickly, “I need to get this done.”
“Fine.” MC sighed heavily as she released the material she had been holding captive in her frail hands. “Well, I’m going back to bed,” she turned reluctantly to leave the room, here eyes pinned on the oak flooring.
Jumin watched her, full of so much regret when he realised that she had only wanted what was truly best for him in the situation. “MC,” he called for her weakly as she crossed the fresh hold of the doorway. She hummed in response, back still facing him. “…I love you…”
MC’s eyes scrunched together at his words; he hadn’t said that in a couple weeks and she had to stop her tears from spilling. Nodding to herself, she took a deep breath: “I know…”
Defeated, MC made the silent walk of shame back to their bedroom to fall asleep alone in that king sized bed once again. Then again, that had just become the routine, hadn’t it? She’d beg him each night to rest, to just lay down with her and let his mind be at ease for the first time in a long time, but he’d become distant. Distant to her at least. His job was at the forefront of everything and she knew he meant no harm by putting space between them while he healed the best he could, but it was painful nonetheless. She didn’t cry that night, she hadn’t been reduced to tears from the emotional strain everything was causing, yet it was an extremely restless night.
.
Maybe it had been another week- MC had completely lost track of the days between keeping herself in check and trying to be the emotional support her fiance needed. It was draining to try and get through to him: so many nights were spent telling him to just rest and forget the job for one second, mornings were spent telling him he couldn’t possibly go into work when he hadn’t slept more than an hour at a time, visits to the office were fruitless, and then there were the joyous nights where he’d breakdown completely.
It would only ever be when he thought she was asleep; he’d let all those pent up feelings go and just cry for hours on end, occasionally he’d even vent his feelings out loud- his words venomous and disgusting, so unlike Jumin. Sometimes she’d let him cry, just give him time to be by himself, but most of the time she’d creep out of the bedroom and just sit beside him. MC told him everything was okay and that it was okay to feel that way, her words often fell upon deaf ears but she was there for him. She was there every second of every day to pick up the pieces V and his psychotic fiancée had so abruptly dropped.
MC had tried in the beginning to keep a level head and ignore her feeling in the situation, of course they were inferior to how her husband was feeling. However, after all the time she spent watching the effects of their actions play out she’d only grown to feel complete and utter anger towards what they had let happen. It vexed her beyond belief but as long as they once were one of the most important aspects in Jumin’s life she couldn’t dare tell him how she felt about everything.
After multiple hints of her agitation and how exhausted she was, Zen insisted they spend the day doing something fun while Jumin was at work to take her mind off of things. MC didn’t agree at first but it didn’t take much convincing to get her to leave the penthouse. It was, without a doubt, one of the most relaxing days she’d had in a long time. They had brunch together, went to a spa, got facials, you name it and Zen had suggested it. He knew just how to clear her mind of all those intrusive thoughts and was glad to listen when she just wanted to talk.
The ‘talking’, as such, came in the evening after she’d offered for him to stay and eat dinner with her after getting the expected news that Jumin would be working late. They’d both had minor amounts of alcohol when he asked the simple question of ‘Are you dealing with everything okay?’ MC hesitated at his words for a moment before she nodded uneasily: “I’m fine…” she took a deep breath as she looked to the glass beside her, “Jumin is more hurt than he’s letting on though.”
“I assumed as much.” The woman was shocked to hear such a response: Zen wasn’t too fond of her fiancé and everyone was well aware. He continued: “I mean, there’s no way anyone can continue as normal in that situation.”
MC sighed heavily, “I think… I think he’s trying to stay strong for everyone else… But I don’t want him to be strong for me.”
“He’s protecting you.”
Reclining, she choked on her words: “I know, but I don’t want him to protect me. He needs- He needs to look after himself.” Zen watched her silently with concern spread across his face as she watched tears threaten to leave her eyes. “He’s still grieving. Alone and upset in his own secluded head space where I can’t help him… And I fucking hate them for doing that to him!” Those final words came off of her tongue with an amount of spite and hatred she had not even expected to come out of her, all the while tears were now streaming freely down her flushed cheeks.
“Don’t cry…” he barely spoke above a whisper as he crossed the space to sit beside her, wrapping a gentle arm around her shoulders and caressing her hand.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “I just- I don’t want him to have to feel that way.”
Zen hushed her: “You don’t need to apologise, MC. You’re hurting as much as anyone else and of course it’s hard to see him suffering in silence.”
She nodded trying to calm herself and stop the out pour of sudden emotion, wiping the back of her hand across her face. Zen just let her breathe, rubbing her back in assurance to show he was just there for her.
Like clockwork, the sound of the door opening was heard throughout the penthouse, followed by an agitated exhale of none other than her fiancé. MC gasped, making a quick attempt to hide the fact she’d been crying. However, Zen didn’t hesitate to stop her, grabbing her hand and giving her a look which told her everything would be okay.
Jumin’s voice erupted, as deadpanned as it had been for quite some time, “MC, I’m sorry I missed—” He stopped in his paces when he saw her crying in the other man’s arms. “MC… What… What’s wrong?” He took a few steps closer, hesitant and cautious like some worried animal.
“I’ll leave you two,” Zen stood from the chair, rubbing a circle on her back once more. “I’ll see myself out. MC, if you need anything just call me, okay?” MC nodded to him, her breath still held captive in the back of her throat.
Jumin almost didn’t acknowledge the other man as he passed him, his eyes too focused on his love crying before him. A pang of guilt hit him as he saw her weep; he felt it to be one of the only true emotions he’d felt in awhile. “God… I’m so sorry, MC. I hadn’t even stopped to think of what I was doing to you,” Jumin was down on his knees before her before she would interrupt him.
“You- you didn’t cause this, Jumin,” she croaked through broken sobs. He looked up at her in confusion, his eyes full of more colour than those dull ones she’d been looking into desperately for weeks. “I’m just upset about all you’ve been put through.”
“…What?”
“Jumin, they’ve caused you so much pain.” MC explained bluntly, her hands clutched in her lap. “I know you want to be strong but I know how much you’re really hurting.”
He paused, his mind filtering through both the good and bad memories of his ‘closest’ friends. “No… No. They meant me no harm.”
“I know,” she cooed, her hand cupping his cheek and she watched his face grimace and grow with confusion. “They probably didn’t… But you are hurting, Jumin, and that’s okay. This isn’t a normal situation and you need to express how you really feel or things aren’t going to get better.”
“But I’m fine,” he pleaded.
“I haven’t seen you smile in so long,” she sniffled and smiled pitifully. “We both know that’s not true.” He fell completely silent, his eyes focused on something she could not see. “…It’ll get better… You’ll heal and we can deal with this together, okay?” MC smiled again, rubbing a finger over his cheek, growing slowly wetter as he let himself breathe a sigh of relief.
His eyes met her’s, looking truly into those eye’s he’d fell so deeply in love with, “…I love you…”
“I love you too.”
#mystic messenger#mysme#jumin x mc#jumin han#mystic messenger jumin han#mysme jumin#mc mystic messenger#mc myseme#mystic messenger drabble#mysme drabble#mystic messenger headcanon
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Blue fire-Theseus ScamanderxReader (Req.)
A/N: Request for injured Theseus and reader fighting off the blue fire which leads to a kiss. Lol 🤷🏻♀️ I hope I did your request justice, my dear...I don’t...even know...
MOOD MUSIC: Hostage by Billie Eilish
***
You felt the heat, harsh and energetic in its movements as it propelled you back, its bright flames lapping towards you in sick curls. In some oratorical way, it called to you, whispering incoherent words that still held the same eloquence as any other. You paused there in its view, breathing strained and hands cramped from holding your wand too tightly. With what energy you could muster, you ignored its promises, eyes scanning the crowd of other Aurors and wizards alike that dotted the arena. Just then, you saw him, equally disturbed by the fire that took over the stone and people standing in its way. For all the years you knew Theseus, he rarely showed fear, and seeing him display it so plainly now...it made your skin crawl in a cold sweat.
“Theseus!” Your voice bellowed through the flames, catching his attention as he turned to your direction. His eyes were wild with a frightened rage, the dismay he felt diffusing over to you in its quiet anxiety. They were helpless. You were helpless. There was little any of you, no matter the skill or talent, could do to end this without further loss and while you wished to run to his side, that mercy would not be granted to you.
“Go!!” Theseus yelled back, boots clambering up the steps along with his brother. You saw them both in a clumsy panic, Newt gripping desperately at Theseus’ blazer until he managed a strong enough hold to apparate them both out of here. Their disappearance startled you for a second, the flames climbing higher until you felt its burn teasing at your face. You screamed in your anger, slashing at it and propelling your wand forward just enough to will it away. That was your chance, you saw, the split second between being consumed and having freedom from this massacre.
“Ah!” Your body willed away, the sudden momentum of apparating causing you to slam hard into the walls of the mausoleum outside. Pain shot through your arm, but for you, that agony was well worth surviving the hell inside these walls.
“Y/N?!”
“Theseus?” If not for the solid foundations, you were certain you’d of fallen over already, giving way to the exhaustion hitting your body. You knew he was alive, that was the only charity the fates could offer today, but even the favor of getting to see him before you, was a long shot.
“Y/N!” There was desperation in his voice, long and drawn out in its misery as he searched the rubble and endless alleys for you. Somewhere in the background you could hear Newt trying to stop him, but your fiancé seemed unyielding in his quest to reunite with you. It was the only piece of knowledge that settled your nerves, and just as you summoned your strength to walk over the debris in full view of the rest of the outside world, the walls gave way. Each stone rocked with purpose, the pillars and decor finally caving and unleashing the wrath that Grindelwald had set upon you all. The blue fire spilled forth, flying towards the darkened sky and forming into the hellish facade of a dragon.
“Oh god...” You sucked in a breath, favoring your uninjured arm as you swiftly brought your wand up. This may end in your death, but you would not die a coward. “Come on then...” Your boots bore hard into the ground, steadying your frame and giving you the force necessary to command the flames away. Though you held your own for the time being, you knew you weren’t the master of the fire and your stamina could only take so much until you found yourself being coerced to one knee before it. It was humbling, if you wanted to be kind with descriptions, to see the power that one man could possess within himself. His entire aura was felt in these attacks, bright and unrelenting and just as persuasive as his silver-tongued words. You tried with all your might to keep your wits, but the closer they got the easier it was to convince yourself to surrender and let them take you. “Theseus...”
He was the last thought to cross your mind, your heart nearly tightening with grief as you felt the weight of leaving him behind. This was hardly a worthy farewell, and you could not bear the idea of being burned so furiously there would be nothing left to mourn, not even ash. But, what hope was there in the face of such dark magic? In your eyes, you were already dead.
The dragon took flight again, it’s blue wings gushing open and ruling viciously over those who would dare to oppose it. You could hear their screams, pained and grieved as the last bit of their existence seared away under the beasts fiery roar. Even with the might of the Ministry Aurors, it seemed fate would deem this to be the outcome of this war.
“I love you.” It was a whisper, spoken to no one and yet you held Theseus in your heart as the dragon came flying down at you. You felt your body stiffen in defense, fear and acceptance taking over as you glared the dragon down. All your breaths were shaky and forced, throat clenched with all the preparation of the pain to come.
“Y/N!!”
Theseus’ arm encircled your figure, tucking you protectively into his body as he held his wand up and fought what he could until you were compelled to follow him. There was chaos all around, but all you focused on was his voice, distraught but courageous in its tones. He moved you towards an opening, pushing you as gently as he was able until he, too, could join you there behind a pillar. You observed him breathing, chest rising and falling roughly in a feeble attempt to regain some control. However, he was just as drained as you were, his back hitting the stone and eyes closing in relief when the fire spilled forward, covering all exits, but leaving you two alive.
“Theseus.” There was nothing else to say, and you just stared at him elatedly, examining every inch of his body to make sure he hadn’t been harmed in the battle. His clothes were singed in certain areas, the collar of his shirt now dusted an awful black. “You’re hurt.” Your voice broke, body carrying you forward until you stood in front of him in your worry. There was no time to fuss, but you were just relieved to see him again, knowing only a few moments ago that gift could’ve been taken from you. Caring for his wounds, was the least you could do in return for his bravery.
“Think nothing of it, darling.” Theseus tried to placate you, his warm smile only making your heart flutter in concern. You knew him well enough to detect deceit, and even if his intentions were pure, you still fussed over him.
“Let me see.” You gazed up at him, fingers reaching for the cut that adorned his cheek. It was bleeding fairly enough, and if he felt any pain he certainly didn’t show it. “Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“Theseus-“
“I promise.” He smiled again, letting himself enjoy the soft caress of your fingers on his jaw. Tonight wasn’t over just yet, and for any of you it could very well be the end, but he would never forgive himself if he let such moments as this pass him by without proper attention. “Are you alright?”
“I am. Thanks to you.”
“You’re injured.” Theseus scolded, eyeing the way you nestled your other arm safely at your side. You could pretend as you like, but that was too serious a bite for him not to notice.
“It’ll heal.” You spared him the long explanation of how you got it, and to you his wound was more concerning. Even if he paid it no mind, you could take what energy you had left and mend it for him. “Here. Let me.” You raised your wand to his face, ready to close that cut and give him just a bit of relief to brave on. But, that wouldn’t come, and just when you began the mumbling of a healing spell he gripped your wrist, eyes focused on the fight raging on ahead.
“Newt...” Theseus appeared concerned, lips dipping to a frown when he witnessed his younger brother and the others being lambasted by the fire. There was no time to lick his own wounds, and now that you were safe he felt the urge to move on and aid them. He shifted his gaze back to you, taking in the details of all your features in their worried state. Your concern for him was heartwarming, but he feared he must do it all again.
“Stay here.” He still held your wrist, thumb stroking your palm lovingly while he admired every part of you. There was no telling where this night would lead, but he would count himself fortunate to have had the time to call you his. With a slight tug he brought you close, tactfully closing the distance and planting a warm and amorous kiss to your lips. By the time he pulled away, you were panting, his fingers leaving your wrist as he shot out of his cover and headed for the others.
***
TAGLIST: @brittanymcsharry @marvelous-revengers @jinx4karma @preppy-by-the-c @marsbars101 @ariminiria @jackdawsonsgrl @emily12x @november-ash @dasha-tardis @lunadiilios @tamanamohain @ghoulishbergara @blackrose-92 @siren-lamented-vampire @theonlyparadox @unexpectedlyromantic @newtstarmander
Again, some tags won’t work. I’m sorry~
#theseus scamander fanfic#theseus scamander#theseus scamander x you#theseus scamander x reader#theseus x you#theseus x reader#theseus scamander x y/n#theseus scamander imagine#callum turner
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Curled Up
Thank you so much to the mods for making this banner and running this awesome event! I’m so excited to see everyone else’s works! @steterweek
Day one: Alpha Peter or AND Creature Stiles
Ao3 Link
“Uncle! I’m home!” Cora sang as she loudly barged into the once quiet house.
“Ah my favorite niece has returned from prison.” Peter said with faux cheer making Laura elbow him hard in the gut.
“I don’t know why you expected for that to go over well.” Derek chuckled from the dining room table.
“I am your alpha and this is how you treat me? I never!” Peter crooned, a hand placed dramatically over his heart.
Saturday nights with nieces and nephew around him and a book in his hand was not the way he had envisioned spending his adult life, but Peter wouldn’t trade his boring life for anything. His parents had died when he was twenty-three leaving him an alpha, and his sister a grieving mess. Talia had handled her grief by hitting the road; her husband had left to go find her, yet neither had returned. Laura had been six at the time and the only one that still has memories of Talia and Joseph. Every year the kids got postcards and presents for their birthdays and Christmas, but each year the gifts only seemed to highlight the emotional and physical distance between them and their parents. Peter considered himself a great surrogate father, but those first few years had been incredibly hard. Laura had blamed him for Talia and Joseph’s absence; Derek asked every morning and every evening when his parents were coming home, and Cora had been just a baby at the time. Peter had only thought vaguely about having his own children when he suddenly had three to take care of all on his own.
Looking back now, past all the struggles and hardships, Peter was almost glad Talia and Joseph had left him with the precious gift of their children. These kids had changed him into a much kinder man, one that lived a quiet happy life, and Peter was forever in their debt for the joy they gave him.
“Oh cool a snake!” came Cora’s excited voice from the patio, alerting Peter that he had approximately two seconds before Derek and Laura were going to freak out.
Peter clapped his hands to his ears and shot off the couch in time to miss Derek’s full bodied tackle and Laura’s ear splitting scream as she too launched herself in the direction of where Peter had been sitting.
“Now children! Calm down!” Peter shouted over the yelps of the eldest Hale children as he sent soothing thoughts down their pack bonds.
“Oh shit. Uncle come here! I think it’s hurt!” Cora’s voice was frantic, yet wet like she was already about to cry.
His sweet, kind hearted bad ass niece couldn’t stand when animals were hurt and it made his heart warm and break everytime she cried over an innocent creature. He left the quietly panicking young adults and made his way out to his brave Cora-baby and the wounded snake.
He froze as his eyes adjusted to the light and he saw that the snake was curled in Cora’s lap and blood was covering her legs where the poor thing was laying.
“I’ll call Deaton. Can you tell what type of snake it is?” Peter said calmly.
“Uncle, I think he’s a shifter.” Cora breathed.
“What do you mean he’s a shifter?” Peter asked as her stepped closer to sniff the air around his niece and the snake.
“He isn’t acting like a normal snake. He let me pick him up and look at his wounds, he came out of the woods and headed directly for me. He hasn’t hissed at me once. And the way he’s looking at you makes me think he knows you’re an alpha.” Cora’s words were calm and her body didn’t move at all just in case she was wrong and really did have a wounded animal in her lap.
Peter yelled for Laura to call Deaton before crouching down to look the snake in the eye, “Can you flash your eyes at me, sweet thing?”
Peter had never met a weresnake before and so he expected either beta orange or the more yellow-orange of the only other shifter he’d met who was a coyote, instead he was greeted with a gold like burnt honey. He gasped in the face of that bright beauty before he collected himself and slowly reached a hand out to touch the snake’s small body. The wounded creature did not move away or try to strike out, but instead slowly, painfully, lifted its head to meet his hand. Such a beautiful, strong little thing. Peter felt himself drawn to the strength and intelligence he saw in the snake’s gaze.
“It’s called hypermelanism.” Cora’s voice jarred Peter from the almost trance like state he’d been.
He made a questioning sound as he finally gently placed his hand on the beautiful scales and started drawing out the poor thing’s pain.
“His scales. I have been searching the internet while you two were communicating or whatever, and I’m pretty sure he’s a chocolate morph California Kingsnake with hypermelanism. The chocolate scales with only a splash of copper on his belly that gives him that metallic look is very distinct so it didn’t take long to figure it out.” Cora explained.
Peter hummed an agreeing sound, too caught up in the tidal waves of pain he was draining to speak.
-
“I did not scream.” Laura demanded with a childish stomp, “Besides, he’s a person! I’m not scared of a shifter.”
“So you admit you were scared of a snake?” Derek asked with a smirk.
“I remember you jumping around with your underwear in a twist with her nephew dear.” Peter reminded him from the kitchen.
Derek flushed a bright red, mumbling “Well at least I'm not a snake nerd that figured out the breed and morph before the vet even arrived.” before crossing his arms and making his exit.
“Such a spoilsport.” Cora laughed.
Peter hummed in agreement before asking, “Do you still have all the snake stuff from the last time you found one?”
Cora nodded before she ran up to the storage room, that had once been the master bedroom.
“Can you manage to go buy this guy some mice? Deaton said he has to be with an alpha to help the healing, but he’s going to need some food soon. I can’t take him with me to go hunt.” Laura gave him a disgusted face, “Fine. I’ll get your baby sister to do it so she can mock you for being a scaredy wolf again. Your call darling.” Peter knew Laura would fold under the threat of more ridicule, and she did.
“I feel weird about putting him in the tank, he is a person too.” Cora said as she entered the kitchen again.
Peter looked at the sleeping creature in his lap and sighed, “I know baby, but he’s injured and the last thing he needs is to get trampled by one of us because he can’t move fast enough to get out of the way. He blends in with our floors, so we’d never see him and you know that. We don’t have to put the lid on it though since he isn’t a normal snake. We’ll set him up on my desk by my bed so he stays close to an alpha through the night, but other than that we have to treat him like a regular snake until he’s healed or shifts back.”
He reached out a hand and gently rubbed a circle on Cora’s back before continuing, “He’ll be okay. I won’t let anything happen to him Cora-baby.”
-
A weird fluttering motion on Peter’s cheek had him cracking open a tired eye to look into the snake’s smiling face. Peter hadn’t even known snake’s could smile, maybe they can’t but it sure did look like a smile.
“Good morning little one.” Peter’s voice was a low grumble and the snake squeezed his arm in greeting.
He had no idea how he hadn’t woken up when the little devil snuck out of his tank and wrapped himself around Peter’s arm.
“How are you feeling?” Peter asked knowing the snake couldn’t verbally reply, but hoped it could make some kind of body motion to tell him if the poor thing was still in pain.
The snake squeezed once again, which Peter took to mean he was feeling better. Good.
Peter tapped one thick finger on the snake’s head and said, “You shouldn’t have exerted yourself by sneaking out of the tank you little devil.”
The snake pulled it’s head back and tilted it as if asking “How could you accuse me of that?”
Peter snorted and rolled his eyes, “Come on, I bet you’re hungry.”
“Jesus fucking christ!” Laura shouted, dropping the rag she had been drying her hands on.
“Nope. Just Uncle Peter, but thanks for the warm welcome, Laura-darling.”
“Oh shove it Peter.” Laura grumbled under her breath, earning herself a light punch to the arm as Peter passed her.
Peter grabbed one of the mice from the cage Laura had brought in and placed it in the sink before gently guiding the snake onto the counter.
“Jesus. Fuck. I didn’t need to see that this early.” Derek groaned from the entrance to the kitchen, his hair still standing up ridiculously.
“Contrary to popular belief I’m just your Uncle Peter. Good morning to you too, nephew dear” Peter smiled at his sleepy nephew and offered the boy the mug of coffee he’d poured for Derek.
At the sound of thundering steps coming down the stairs Peter lifted the lunch box, that he packed Cora’s breakfast and lunch into, and the purple thermos full of coffee into the air, only to be snatched out of his hands immediately.
“Thanks! Gotta go! Love you!” Cora called over her shoulder as she raced out of the house, followed by a chorus of “love you too”s.
“Thank god we aren’t in highschool anymore.” Derek sighed, leaning his head onto his sister’s shoulder as he sleepily ate his pancakes.
“Do either of you work today or are you just going to laze around the house?” Peter asked, one eyebrow raised in judgement.
“We get it Uncle Peter.” Derek sighed.
“Yeah, we know.” Laura frowned, faux irritated.
Brother and sister joined forces to say, “When I was your age I was raising three kids on my own and trying to write a novel!” dramatically and in sync.
Peter just waved away their playful mocking, “If you can repeat that back to me then the meaning should be clear by now. I just want you two to find your passion and run with it. We have the rare privilege of being able to chase our dreams. Don't waste it my loves.”
Almost identical faces nodded solemnly at his words, their minds wandering to questions of the future.
“Well we know what Cora will be doing at least.” Laura said with a fond smile.
“Ah yes. Speaking of our little veterinarian in the making I need to go check on our new friend.” Peter remembered the snake he’d left on the counter to eat his breakfast.
“That's my cue to leave.” Laura said hurriedly as she pushed her chair back and rushed to the door.
“Have a good day Laura-darling. Love you.” Peter called from the sink, Derek yelling something similar.
They heard the faint “love you too" Laura yelled from the driveway before getting in her car.
Peter had been slightly worried that the snake would be too injured to handle live prey, and was relieved to see him curled happily in the corner of the sink, swollen where the mouse was digesting.
-
“Uncle! I’m home!” Cora sang as she barged into the once peaceful house.
“How was jail?” Peter asked from his place on the couch.
“Hi home, I’m Derek.” Derek called out from the kitchen before giving a loud snort of laughter at his own joke.
“Fucking nerd.” Cora mumbled as she set her bags down by the door.
“It seems our little devil missed you.” Peter said with a smile as the chocolate snake that was curled around his forearm began slithering up his arm and across his shoulders to flick its tongue out in greeting.
“Hey there little guy. How ya feelin’?” Cora murmured to the pleased snake.
The snake slid up onto Cora’s outstretched hand and curled himself around her arm.
“He’s physically healed by now, so when do you think he’ll be okay to shift back?” Laura asked more likely out of a desire to not see a snake every day than concern for the creature’s well being.
“He can shift back whenever he wants. He should’ve finished healing earlier today.” Peter informed with a shrug.
Cora laughed as the little devil let out a quiet hiss in Laura’s direction before moving across her shoulders to watch Laura haughtily.
-
Peter woke up wrapped too tightly in the blankets and burning up. He cracked his eyes open and was met with messy brown hair and pale skin instead of his navy comforter. His brain was instantly running at normal speed, shaking off sleep quickly. The snake had finally shifted back, but was it on purpose or did he shift back in his sleep? If Peter spooked him he could easily shift back and remain a snake until he was comfortable again.
Peter decided to slowly wake him up and try to keep him as comfortable as possible. The boy was completely wrapped around Peter; one leg hiked high on Peter’s hips, the other was hooked around Peter at their ankles. He had one arm across Peter’s chest, his hand gripping Peter’s collar bone, and one arm curled around Peter’s arm that was between their bodies. The boy’s head was resting on Peter’s chest and tilted away from view, so Peter still had no idea what he looked like or how old he was.
Peter slowly reached with his free hand and started rubbing slow circles up and down the boy’s arm before he mumbled lowly, “Little devil. Wake up my little demon. It’s time to get up honey.”
The most gorgeous boy Peter had ever seen blinked sleepily at him and let out a questioning hiss, giving Peter a wonderful view of the boy’s pouty mouth and sensuous tongue behind pretty teeth.
“You shifted back Little devil. Can you talk yet?” Peter murmured lowly, still rubbing slow circles on the boy’s arm.
The boy blinked again and looked down at his pale arm that still rested on Peter’s bare chest. He slowly looked back up into Peter’s eyes, amber meeting oceanic blue, before letting out a yelp and shooting off the bed.
“Oh god I’m so sorry!” The boy started panicking, his heart beat loud in the once quiet room.
Before Peter could try to calm the boy down his bedroom door burst open and a frantic, half awake Cora was in his doorway shouting, “Is everything okay? Why are both of you freaking out?” a pause as her eyes caught up with her mouth, “You shifted back! Hello! Did Uncle freak you out?”
The boy didn’t even have time to blame Peter before Cora was hitting him on the shoulder with more force than necessary.
“I haven’t done anything. Our guest here has only just realized he shifted back in his sleep.” Peter explained calmly, standing up to put on clothes.
“How did you hear our hearts?” the boy inquired, his panic giving way to curiosity.
“Our Cora-baby here has the best hearing, but she apparently didn't have the frame of mind to recognize that two human hearts were racing.” Peter answered, raising one eyebrow at Cora for not realizing the snake had shifted and that was why he was panicking.
Cora gave a weak, awkward laugh before mumbling, “Well I’ll leave you two alone to talk alpha to snake or whatever.”
Peter smiled at the closing door before tossing the boy a shirt and a pair of basketball shorts.
“You can put those on if you want.” Peter sat on the bed before continuing, “What’s your name sugar?”
“Stiles.” The boy answered quietly as he pulled the shorts on.
“Hello Stiles. My name is Peter and I am the Hale Alpha. Do you have a pack or family I should contact?” Peter asked, getting the formalities out of the way.
“No.” This reply was quieter.
“Okay, love. How old are you?” Peter asked finally turning to look at the now dressed boy.
“I’m twenty.” Stiles replied, this one at least was a normal response.
“So you’re in between Derek and Cora’s ages. That’s good. Why were you hurt?”
“A werejaguar hunted my family, and I was the only one able to escape.” The words a whisper in the quiet room.
“Why would it do that?”
“My father is a sheriff and had connected her to several homicides. She killed him first. My mother and I were on the run for two years before she found us two towns over. I’m harder to track and fight when I’m shifted so I ran after she-” Stiles broke off as tears began falling down his face harder than before.
Peter approached the boy slowly and pulled him into a tight hug, one hand softly rubbing circles in the boy’s back. He didn’t know who this boy was, who his parents had been, but he was going to end his suffering so that the boy could have peace and justice for his parents.
“You’re safe now. I’ve got you.” Peter mumbled into the boy’s hair, gently rocking them side to side.
Stiles slumped further into his arms and sighed “Werewolves are so warm.”
Peter smiled and continued to comfort the boy until he realized the boy in his arms was asleep.
“Well that’s one way to calm down.” Peter chuckled to himself before swaying them over to the bed and laying Stiles down.
-
“As long as he doesn’t get his weird snake body on me I am happy.”
“Oh shut up. He probably doesn’t even want to touch you to begin with.”
“Children. Please.”
“I’ll be happy to have him Uncle Peter.”
“Thank you nephew dear. Girls?”
“You know I’m in Uncle!”
“Yes Peter.”
“Good. Now if you’re finished listening in, Stiles, please join us.”
Shit. He’d been caught. Of course he’d been caught they were werewolves, and he knew that at least one of them could hear his heartbeat across the house in Peter’s bedroom. Stiles hung his head guiltily as he entered the living room where the four werewolves had been discussing something about him. He hoped they were discussing keeping him, not eating him or something.
“Hi.” was all Stiles could say as he sat down next to Peter in the only available seat.
“Hello Stiles.” Cora chirped with a cheery wave.
He smiled at her before turning to look into Peter’s very handsome face. He tried to push down the memory of Peter’s stirring dick against his thigh when he’d awoken and realized he was naked and sprawled atop Peter’s only slightly more clothed body. When he was shifted he knew he prefered Peter’s heat and arms to Cora’s, but both human and snake had always been a fan of thick meaty arms. It’d been so long since Stiles had been able to actually think about love and sex and ending up in Peter’s lap, literally and metaphorically, had been a blessing because the man checked every single one of Stiles’ boxes.
“I didn’t hear much.” Stiles mumbled, unable to look into Peter’s intense eyes.
“That doesn��t bother me sugar. Listen to anything you want. We hear everything anyways.” Peter used two fingers to lift Stiles’ face to look at him properly before continuing, “I have something to ask you sweet boy.”
Stiles immediately flushed as ideas of things he wished Peter would ask him flashed through his mind.
“Shoot.” was all he could force out without risking saying something embarrassing like “Yes I will go down on you.”
“Would you like to join our pack? We can protect you and I can help you get justice for your parents. I want to help you Stiles, and my pack has agreed that we want you.”
Stiles was speechless. All thoughts of sexy time with Peter were drowned out by the wave of grief he felt at the mention of his parents deaths, but then that too was replaced with bright, shiny hope as he realized just how much protection he could have if he was surrounded by four grown werewolves. Peter was giving him a boon and Stiles was floored by his generosity.
“You don’t have to reply right-”
Stiles cut Peter off by hurriedly saying, “Yes! Yes Alpha Hale please accept me into your pack.”
“With pleasure sweet boy.” Peter’s grin was so blinding in its beauty that Stiles almost didn’t hear the happy words the Hale betas were saying to him.
-
“Thank you Peter.” Stiles knew it was the fifth time he’d thanked his alpha, but he honestly wasn’t going to be stopping anytime soon so he didn’t feel bad about it.
“Anything for you my sweet boy.” Peter spoke lowly, his voice a rough whisper across Stiles cheek as his hands came up to cup Stiles’ face.
“You’re so good to me.” Stiles whispered, closing his eyes against the intensity of Peter’s gaze.
“You’re good to me too, love. Have been since that first night. I sleep better with you in my bed. I breathe better with you in the room. I am better with you in my life.” Peter’s confession left his lips and wrapped itself tightly around Stiles’ heart much like the many times he had wrapped himself around Peter.
“You’ve saved me.” Stiles breathed out his eyes still shut tight against his and Peter’s feelings.
“I will always make sure you’re safe. You’re mine, little devil” Peter only used the name he’d give Stiles all those months of pining and sexual tension ago when he was just a nameless injured snake that Peter had protected.
“Will you be mine, Alpha?” Stiles asked, finally opening his eyes to look at Peter’s blood smeared body, knowing it matches his own, and his heated gaze.
“Whatever you want my sweet little devil.” Peter whispered before closing the gap and kissing Stiles beside the cooling corpse of his parents’ murderer.
#steter#alpha peter hale#creature stiles#alive hale family#hale family feels#fluff#steter week 2018#steter ff#snake!stiles#this is so soft#kyla writes
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Eye of The Storm
A Thor x Reader One Shot
2170 words (longest one yet!)
*Note at the bottom
Thunder crackled through the tower, causing you to fall out of bed with a shriek. Disheveled and frightened, you grabbed your blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders.
“Thor?” You whispered, covered in goosebumps, gingerly stepping into the dark living room.
The former king of Asgard had been back at the tower for two months now, struggling with the loss of his father and his home in Asgard. Thor felt he had to be strong, felt he had to act as if nothing bothered him. But the painful electricity that crackled out of him echoed through you as well.
Before Ragnarok, the God of Thunder would sometimes fall asleep on the couch while watching movies with you and the team. He was extremely interested in Midguardian culture, from the food, to sightseeing and media. Whenever he was free from Avengers duty, he would ask you to “tour” him around the city, both of you hopping into your ‘72 Dodge Challenger and going to places like the Statue of Liberty, where he once flew you to the top using Mjolnir, and to Coney Island, where he won 6 giant teddy bears, he gave you the first bear and gave the other teddy bears to cute little kids (though they were more interested in you and Thor). But movies were his absolute favorite.
Tony made him an entertainment center, but he insisted on using the living room to be around his Midguardian friends (mostly you).
Thor was now on the couch, lying on his stomach, fast asleep. The light from the TV illuminated his face, and the eye patch caught the artificial light beautifully. You leaned in closer to him, studying his features, the newly cropped hair shocked you when he came back, but he looked so damn handsome, it was hard to complain. His face was what struck you, he was in so much pain, even while asleep. And you could feel that with every crackle of thunder, and every time lightning struck the ground. Tonight, your power enveloped you in his pain, the worst night by far, the electricity he lit the night sky with travelled through your veins and echoed within your brain. He had stressed the fact that he wanted to be left alone, and everyone had hung out in the entertainment room, as he requested. You checked on him - albeit, sneakily - every half an hour.
With Thor coming back, he was full of hurt and grieving, so that meant non-stop thunder storms. You missed the sun, but you’d rather have your best friend back, and to let him have the chance to heal.
Thunder struck again, causing you to take a sharp intake of breath through your nose. You slipped on the living room floor and your head hit the coffee table - really, really hard. Thor shot up off the couch, looking around, then facing you, as he calmed down, he reached towards you, “Lady Y/N? Are you okay?”
Rubbing your head, and backing away from him in embarrassment, you hissed in pain. “That’ll leave a nice bump,” looking at Thor from the ground, your face reddening, you mumbled, “You don’t have to address me as Lady Y/N, Thor.”
Ignoring your last comment, he rushed to your side, reaching out to check your head for bumps. “I’m so sorry, my-“
“Thor!” You shouted at him, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away from your head before you felt the painful rush of electricity that ran through you every time you shared contact with him.
Quickly letting go of his wrist you scrambled to stand up, your arm jolting in pain.
He flinched from your sudden outburst. You stared into his eyes, guiltily and whispered, “I’m okay. I’m sorry, I’m just exhausted.”
You stood there shivering across from him, in a cami and shorts. The blanket had fallen from your shoulders when you stood up.
“Every time I touch you, you move away from me. Am I ridden with a horrid disease or something, my lady?” He sounded hurt, looking at you like a kicked puppy.
“Thor, Thor... of course not!” You didn’t want to tell him that you felt a sudden wave of electricity race through your veins every time he made physical contact with you. It was painful and reacted like multiple shots of electrocuted espresso within your brain.
“You are lying, my lady.” He turned to fully face you, obviously concerned.
You stepped towards him, pissed off and exhausted, “I am not your lady, and I’m lying to protect you, Thor!” You took a deep breath and held back your tears. “I am exhausted because every time one of your storms hits here, I can’t sleep! All I feel is your lightning and pain, it’s like bullets firing at me repeatedly!”
Thor’s face crumpled in shame and guilt, tears forming in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but then changed his mind, ending any sort of conversation that you had desperately wanted. Turning away, he shuts off the TV and bumps into a wall on his way out, clearly distraught. He walks out of the room, and the storm rumbles aggressively again.
“Thor, please, talk to me!” You let out a choked sob as you ran after him, but the thunderous crackles of thunder and high voltage lightning strikes cause you to trip and fall on the floor, gasping for air. Clutching at your chest, you thought you were having a heart attack.
“We need each other.” You exhaled almost inaudibly, and you saw his tear-filled eyes in your field of vision, felt his calloused hands hold your face, but heard nothing that was being spoken from his beautiful lips.
All you felt was the sunshine after a summer storm while he held you in his arms, but your mind felt like a hurricane, hoping for a moment relief. Thor, your eye of the storm.
You awoke with a peaceful air surrounding you, as if you lived in a world of your own. You felt warm and full of calm. It was a strange state to be in, emotional as well as physical, but it was an accepted state of mind. As you embraced the feeling for quite some time, you had to finally come to reality. You heard two deep voices speak to each other, though one sounded panicked and edgy.
A jolt of a lower caliber electricity rippled through your torso, and you tried to open your eyes, but couldn’t. Were they glued shut? Your body couldn’t respond to what your brain was telling it to perform. Did your very own power cause full paralysis?
“No, y/n, I put your body in a temporary comatose state.” Echoed Loki’s voice throughout your head, before you could panic, which sent chills trickling down to your toes.
“Why? Loki what are you doing to me?” You gained some trust towards him after Ragnarok, but you still had your doubts.
“Your body required and still requires major healing and repair. You have been in a comatose state for a week, you may need a couple of days for your body to heal completely.” Loki’s calm voice tried to reassure you, but -
“Does Thor know? Please tell me that you didn’t let him know how injured I am from his physical outbursts of grief!” You blurted out, full of guilt. Your last conversation bubbled back to you, and you felt full of despair, and you realized that he already knew, because you foolishly told him. “Can you wake me up soon? My body can just heal on it’s own now, right? Since my mind is awake? I need to tell him that-“
“That’s not a sound notion, Y/N, you are not stable, and neither is Thor.” He chuckled, amused. “And I know you have fallen in love with my dear brother, Y/N. I have gone through your mind.”
You blanked out, he knew everything??!
“L-Loki... uh, I didn’t give you permission-“ You stuttered, stupidly in your own head... wait, how does that work?
“I needed to know what had happened. And I thrive for drama, you are perfectly aware that, my darling.” He said, a smile in his voice. “I’ll have to check with Tony and Bruce to assure if your physical well-being is healthy enough to awake you from your comatose state.”
“Loki, I’m gonna choke you.” You grumbled.
“I reckon you will, darling.” He said dryly, his voice barely tangible. And suddenly, your mind felt empty.
You felt Thor’s hand on yours, wishing you could reassure him and apologize for hurting him. Your mind writhed in pain as your body stayed sedentary.
“Brother,” You heard Loki address Thor, “I must go talk to Stark and Banner, alert me if anything happens.”
“I will, brother.” Thor whispered, his deep voice was scratchy, as if he had been smoking for years.
You heard the door shut seconds later and Thor let out labored breath.
“My lady, I am so sorry. Please wake up. You were right, I need you, and I hope that you’ll still need me.” He paused, and ran his hand through your hair, “Even after all that I’ve done to hurt you. I never meant to hurt the woman that I love more than the stars in the sky.”
He then let out a strangled sob and let go of your hand.
I love you. I love you. I love you, you chanted in your head, willing yourself to wake up, but your body wouldn’t respond. I don’t need time to heal, he needs to heal!
Focusing on your hands, you put all your thoughts to move your fingers, so you could reach to Thor. You wanted his hand in his again, you needed it!
Your fingers stretched out slightly, but it felt as if you were pulling at a taut rubber band.
My power! You thought, I could use my power! The electricity crackled through your veins very slowly, the only physical proof of your effort was a single bead of sweat on your forehead. Centering in on the beat of your heart in your fingertips, you willed the flow of the electric current to your hands. There! Right-
“Ow!” You heard Thor gasp, “What in the Hel was that?”
Huh?
“Did-?” He paused, and you felt the warmth of his hand right above yours. “Did you just shock me?”
Did I? How?
He gently placed his hand on yours and he inhaled sharply.
Oh shit! I did shock him? How the hell did I do that?!
“Y/N? Are you awake?!” You couldn’t move, and you so desperately wanted to. Dammit! Why can’t I open my eyes?! Your heart rate jumped radically and you felt your body suddenly heat up.
He put his hand on your head, to check for a fever, but then you cooled down, like the moment before a storm.
Your stiff body lifted from the bed, lightning shooting out from your hands, and your eyes opened.
You let out a bloodcurdling scream, tears gathering at your eyes. Pain pain pain pain! Currents of pain ebbed through your blood and bones.
Dropping down harshly on the hospital ward’s bed, you immediately curled up into a fetal position, rocking back and forth, crying.
“Y/N?” Thor whispered, crouching in front of you.
“Thor, I need you.” You breathed out, hyperventilating. “I need you, I need you, I need you..” You repeated to him.
“Will I hurt you if I hold you?” He started to reach towards you.
You scooted an inch away from him, “But I might hurt you.”
“But you need me.” Then he enveloped you in an embrace. The ebb and flow of Thor’s current dissipated from your veins, disintegrated from your bones, and was milked out from your blood. Your heart thumped with a profound current of love for Thor. Everything Thor.
It was the best you’ve felt in months, maybe a year.
“I love you, Thor.” You spike into his chest, tears welling up.
“And I love you, my Lady.”
You chuckled, “I guess I am your lady.”
“Yes you are, my love. You are many things to me.”
You lost a months without him, but you gained a lifetime with him.
Extended Ending:
Loki rushes upstairs and saw you and Thor cuddled on the tower’s hospital bed. The two of you were holding hand and you were smiling, toying with his fingers and the lines of his palm. He leaned his head on your shoulder and sighed in relief.
And Loki stared in disbelief, “She shouldn’t have woken up on her own, I used an extremely strong spell.”
Tony elbowed Bruce and mumbled to him, “The God is shaken. A mortal has proved stronger than the almighty Loki.”
Bruce chuckled and Loki stalked away angrily. Then, Banner turned his attention back to Y/N.
“They’re good together.” He smiled, “Makes me happy for them.”
“As long as they don’t strike down the tower.” Tony said, half-jokingly. “Then I’m happy too.”
TAGLIST
@josiewinters1999
@hiddlestoner3059
@storm-howlett
@kris-lair
@marvelenthusiast10
IF YOU WANNA BE TAGGED IN ANY FUTURE ONE SHOTS, MESSAGE ME! I love you!
Thor deserves more love on Tumblr, thanks for coming to my TED talk. Have a wonderful eaRLY morning!
❤️ With much love,
Chicken Little 🐔
#thor x reader#thor is love#thor#post ragnarok#thor ragnarok#thor x reader fluff#thor x reader angst#avengers#marvel#we need more thor x reader fanfic#thor is a fluff#angstyyyy af#lil bit angsty#one shot#over 2k words#longest fanfic#wowwww#thOR#THor
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No promises part 11
Warning: again this is so sad, so don't read if you don't want to.
First: If you haven't read part 1 please read it.
Second: you can listen to "No promises" by Shayne Ward.
Third: anything written between two stars *....* Is the content of a letter and it's also considered as a flashback.
It was in the middle of the day when he got a phone call from you. "Hello darling". "Tom." He sensed your weak voice and immediately there was a frown making it's way on his face. "What's wrong darling?!" His voice was laced with concern afraid of what she's going to say next. "I'm at the hospital". His heart almost stopped beating; he knew this was bound to happen, but never did he imagine it to happen like that. "which hospital?". On saying the word "hospital." Harrison ran to get the car ready as he understood what was happening and why exactly was a phone call was made from the hospital,but the twins remained confused and worried.
"Would just tell us why is she in the hospital?" Sam asked running out of patience as they drove to the hospital. "She's dying okay!!" Every one sat in silence except for Tom's sobs that were heard. Sam and Harry were shocked at the back and Harrison was lost, he felt sad for both of you and Tom. In the short amount that you knew him you became like a second sister to him. It was just the worst day for everyone.
You were sitting in the hospital bed waiting. Just staring at your hands which were on your lap. Tom and the rest made it to the hospital. "You go in first mate." Harrison said patting Tom's shoulder.
You heard the room's door open and you looked up to find Tom in the most broken state you've ever seen him in. "Hey" you said opening your arms for a hug. He ran to you and hugged you so tight afraid that if he let you go , you would vanish.
He didn't want to ask but he had to; "I-i-is it the time?" He asked already knowing the answer but kept denying it to himself. He felt you nodd with your head resting on his shoulder. Slowly you started to feel his chest moving, up and down as if he was struggling to breathe. He was beginning to cry and it didn't take too long until he was sobbing again. He was in a state of denial , in fact he was waiting for the doctor to enter any minute now and say that a miracle has happened and you're suddenly healed. "Don't cry, I don't want any crying. Do you understand? " You said pulling away from the hug trying to remain strong as possible. You wiped Tom's tears with your thumb as you leaned in to give him a kiss, then rest your forehead on his. You were silent for a few seconds. "Are the others outside?" Tom not trusting if he could utter a word without bursting into tears, nodded his head. "Go tell them to come in, I want to see them." You said giving him a kiss on the cheek. Tom went outside to get them but he almost fell to the ground; luckly Harrison was able to catch him in time. "Ay, mate hold it together". "She wants to see you all." Tom said barely whispering,but they heard him. Harrison, the twins then Tom all entered the room. "Heeey, Haz " you said hugging him. He was sad to see you in such a state nevertheless he did his best to conceal his sadness for yours and Tom's sake. "Don't forget what I told you." You whispered in Haz's ear and he nodded. "Oooh Harry. The funniest guy I've known in the Holland family, but of course after Dominic." You said trying to lighten up his mood. He gave you a sad smile as he hugged you. Next was Sam. "And finally Mr. Freckles" you said as he smiled at the nick name that you gave him a few months ago which he didn't mind, he knew you nick named him "Mr. Freckles" because you loved his freckles. He knew because you told him. They stayed with you for a few minutes, each one saying their goodbyes in their own way, before they left you with Tom. Waiting outside the three slided on the wall waiting, waiting till the end. Harry was crying, Sam was patting him on the back and Harrison was lost in his own thoughts.
Meanwhile Tom lied beside you on the bed hugging you. Your face was in his neck as you played with the necklace that you gave to him with one hand while the other played with his fingers. "Did I ever tell you that I love your hands?" Tom chuckled lightly "All the time, darling". And It was true you always expressed to him how much you love his hands or anything about him in particular.
"Just promise me one thing." You said holding on to him for dear life. "Anything sweetheart." He said as if this promise is the only thing that will prevent you from dying. "Don't forget me." You said with tears falling down your cheek as you couldn't hold it in anymore and looked up at him. "I promise darling." He said hugging you closer to him as if to protect you from what's to become, but he knows he can't, still he held you tight. "Sing to me Tom, please." He nodded with a shaky breath. "Cause you're a sky, 'cause you're a sky full of stars
I'm gonna give you my heart
'Cause you're a sky, 'cause you're a sky full of stars
'Cause you light up the path." He sang with a croaked voice but trying to sound as normal as possible. "You're a terrible singer, thank God you're only an actor." He chuckled sadly at your comment, still he sang to you softly just as he did at the concert. You slowly started to drift in a long deep sleep. By the time Tom finished the song he looked at you ... checking...for what he didn't know. No, in fact he was still in denial and was checking for any sign of breathing but there wasn't any. He slowly started to lose it as he cried and pleaded for you to wake up, " baby, please wake up" he sobbed into your neck. Whispering to you how he was planning to marry you and start a life with him, he said all of this in hopes that you would magically wake up from this deep slumber like Snow White or sleeping beauty, but you didn't. Harrison and the Hollands heard his cries so, they entered quickly. Dominic and Harrison were trying to pull him away from you. Nikki stood in the corner hugging both of the twins as the three of them cried. Nikki and Dominic came immediately when Harrison called knowing that he will need help as much as possible because not only would it be difficult to handle Tom, the twins also lost it. They just couldn't take it; she was perfectly fine the last time they saw her.
(End of flashback)
"Oh shit... Right you probably know about her. You were the only one Sam had told you that he fancies a girl." Tom said talking to you. To anyone he's just a mad person talking to a ....... tomb stone.
(flashback)
*Tom I know you're probably sitting in a corner crying your eyes out as Harrison is reading this letter.* The boys sitting around chuckled at her sense of humour even though she's...gone. Tom looked up, eyes red and puffy, as Harrison continued to read the letter you told him about "don't forget what I told you" Harrison remembered the last thing you told him... It was about the letter. *but please I'm asking you to stop doing so. I know that this is hard for you, I would have done the same probably worse because I really loved you with all my heart. You are the only man who really knew how to make me feel loved. You are the only man who stole my breath away. So, please I want you to do this for me, move on* Tom shook his head as more tears fell from his eyes, down his cheeks and tickling it's way down his neck. *and don't stop yourself from achieving great things in life, which I know you could achieve, just because of this. It will definitely be hard. Just know that this will make me proud of you; it will make your family more proud knowing that their son, brother, or friend passed this chapter in his life.* Harrison smiled as a tear slipped from his eyes, his heart ached at how you counted him a member of the Holland's. *Just know that you are my one and only.*
Both Sam and Harry were sitting on a sofa; each one sitting at each end of it, listening to Harrison as he read your letter. *Sam* Harrison looked up at Sam to see surprise written all over his face. Sam didn't expect you to write for him. *I left something for you with Harrison and I'm sure you'll know what to do with it. It has something to do about what we talked about last time, I wish you all the luck and I want you to know that I approve.* Sam smiled with his eyes glistening he understood what you meant. A few weeks before all of this, he introduced to his future girlfriend and asked for your opinion, now you were encouraging him to go on and ask her out . No one knew of this, except you. That was how close you got to Tom's family.
*Harry*, Harry didn't look up, he too had red eyes, he couldn't believe that his best friend was gone and he didn't know anything about it until the last minute. *You're precious, I hope that you know that* still not looking up, a sided smile appear on his face. * I aslo left you something, Harrison knows where it is. He'll give it to you. Just know that I trust in your talent, because you're a natural.* Finally Harry looked up with tears falling down his face. * I just want you both Sam and Harry to know that you were the brothers I never had.* That being said, Tom couldn't help it but think if things were different they would have been her future brothers-in-law by now.
*finally Harrison, I am sorry I asked you to do all of this, I'm sorry if I had burdened you in any way. It's just I know that you would be the only one who could handle this as they are probably sobbing in front of you right now. Besides you were the only one who knew of my condition other than Tom* Harrison smiled sadly as he took a shaky breath. * I now release you from your duties.* Harrison chuckled, as tears started falling down his face,too. *I just ask of you guys to stop grieving, I was just a chapter in your lives. It'll be hard, but please try for me. It will make me happy to know that you have moved on from this stage. Just don't forget me. love, Y/N *
(End of flashback)
Harrison shook the memory from his head as he focused on Tom again seeing him sitting in front of your grave.
"Sam was really surprised that you left him some of your jewelry to give to his girlfriend. He said that you left a note saying that if she's the one then he should give them to her. And Harry was over the moon when he knew that you got him the newest equipment for photography, and the phonecalls you made to get him an internship with the most famous photographers." Tom sighed. "You just keep on surprising me darling." Shaking his head, he was trying to prevent himself from breaking down again.
"I did everything you asked of me in that letter, the only thing I couldn't do was moving on...... You know that's selfish of you Y/N" tears now were making their way down his face. " You're the one who left. And you expect me to find someone else. You didn't think how this would make me feel. It's not that easy." He said as his voice started to raise as if he was having a fight with you. "If things were different, you would have been my fiancée by now. We would have been choosing the flowers for the wedding together, and the wedding cake." His voice broke as he was still crying. "I knew from the beginning what I was getting myself into, yet I couldn't help but imagine my future with you." He was devastated, how could she ask for such a thing? "You left, and I 'm the one hurting sweetheart. You can't just ask me to move on" He said it bitterly. The word coming out of his mouth as if it's a venom. " I can't do that, I'm sorry, but I just can't." He said calming down a little. "You're asking too much sweetheart."
Harrison made his way to Tom with his hands tucked inside the pockets of his leather jacket. "Come on Tom. That's enough for today." He can't stand and watch his friend like that. Tom was literally losing himself, he wasn't the Tom that Harrison once knew. He was afraid that his friend won't be able to find his way back.
Tom nodded as he got up. "I'll visit again darling, don't worry." Tom said as Harrison left to start the engine. Tom looked once again at your Tomb Stone before making his way to the car.
That's it. I just hope that you guys please tell me what you think. And for those who have lost a loved one, please stay strong.💙@jellybean-gg thanks for your comment, you're the only one who commented 😅, so here's part 2.
#peter parker#tom holland#spiderman#tom holland spiderman#cacw spiderman#reader x peter parker#reader x spiderman#reader x tom holland#thomas holland#thomas stanley holland#harrison osterfield#harry holland#imagine tom holland#paddy holland#sam holland#the hollands#harrison osterfeild imagine#harrison osterfeild x reader#harry holland imagine#harry holland x reader#sam holland x reader#sam holland imagine#peter parker imagine#peter parker x reader
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You Soul is A River
The Cosmos
People always want to be the light to each other. Instead aspire to be each other’s darkness as much as the light. Be the thing that helps the other shine. Be the thing that shines in the dark. But be these things to each other in turn. - Balance
And the sun does not shine because someone else wants it to. It shines because that is what it was born to do. - You are the sun
We have calcium in our bones, iron in our veins, carbon in our souls, and nitrogen in our brains. 93 percent stardust, with souls made of flames, we are all just stars that have people names. - 93% stardust
People often talk about reaching for the stars, but it is the stars whose light travels billions of light years away to reach us. Never be afraid of asking for help. Even the stars do. Not a single star in the night sky is one, they are binary, which means their light comes from two - two souls shining as one to create each individual tiny light you see before you. - Lesson from The Night Sky
Even shooting stars must fall to learn how to soar.
You cannot predict what is in someone’s heart. Stars always shine brightest seconds before they fall apart. - Star Shine Brightness
The day you left, I realized you were a rogue planet. That you didn’t orbit around anyone or anything. That you had no solar system and you found your way into mine, into my orbit, to stay with me for just for a little while. I couldn’t keep you. You weren’t meant to be a part of me. Our love was like the sun, ninety-nine percent of this solar system, but not nearly enough to keep you. Some things are more beautiful because they don’t belong to anyone or anything. - Rogue Planet
A sky that has held the worst of storms but never forgotten to let the sun shine through.
The distance between the sun and the earth is 149.6 million km. The distance between your heart and mine is seventeen inches. Yet somehow, the sun feels closer to me in this moment than you. - In This Room
Not wishing (star). never wishing on them for you because now I know those wishes don’t come true. You cannot control other people’s lives with your wishes and destinies are not mapped in a black velvet sky sprinkled with diamonds, even if it is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. The stars do not bring people back. No matter how much you miss them or need them. No one tells you that hope can sometimes be a dead thing. Just like no one ever tells you that you are wishing upon dead stars. - I Stopped Wishing on Star
My mother warned me, that good people are like the stars, few and far between.
My father reminded me, that there are so many stars which I have not yet seen. - Parental Advice
Fire
When a wildfire comes to devastate you instead of just surviving it, you learned to grow in ashes.
How do you go back to being strangers with someone who has seen your soul?
You have grown so much because you have quietly realized you aren’t just teardrops. You are an ocean.
And then, she reminded me “There may be darkness within this world. But inside us the light burns brighter than you could ever know.
The Storm
If they truly love you, they will love you when you are an ocean breeze, but also when you are a summer storm. You were not made to be loved in parts, you were meant to be loved as a whole.
For even the ocean must let go of the hurricane in the end, though she knows she will never see him again.
Some people are born with tornado in their lives, but constellations in their eyes. Other people are born with stars at their feet, but their souls are lost at sea.
After you left, She took her lessons From the wind. You knew her as an ocean breeze. Now, Know her as a hurricane.
So when someone tries to take control of what is yours, remind them that storms are controlled by no one, and then show them how you are so much more than a storm.
You have always reminded me of a hurricane. But not because you are beautiful, or a force of nature, but because hurricanes are thieves.They breathe in at the ocean’s surface, drawing from her life force, taking from her soul, before disappearing into oblivion to cause destruction, devastation.
And just like you, they never ever return.
This world has gone dark more times than you or your mother or her mother can remember. And every hurricane that was meant to be the end of it all has instead ended in sunshine again. So believe me when I say: You will survive this. And the next one too.
Ache
If you hate the sun for shining on the day you lose the warmest things you have ever loved, remember how even the earth will lose the warmth of the sun one day, but unlike you, will not survive the loss. If they walk out a door that you opened, you are still allowed to grieve for the life you lost with them. But whatever you do, never forget why you opened it in the first place. And never forget to close that door, once they have walked out. Some loves do not have the right soil for roses to grow. Even you have not been permanent to people.
Some people survive chaos and that is how they grow. And some people thrive in chaos, because chaos is all they know.
This is how your grief will look at you:
In the seconds after it happens, you feel the world turning on its head and you’re still standing upright, face forwards, when everything seems to have reversed and slowed down. Your mind insists that you have not changed, the world has. Your heart insists that the world doesn’t exist, only you do. Both are trying to convince you, that you have not become forlorn, the world is just broken. But your mind is lying and so is your heart.
Four days after you have picked yourself up from the floor where you have been since it happened, your mother has already visited twice and said, “Listen, things will get better. You just have to let them,” and “We can help you,” and “Please.” Words seem hollow, but you feel more hollow than any words, hearing the way they echo and disappear inside you.
A week after you have forgotten to sleep, forgotten to dream, forgotten how to communicate in the way those around you still can. You wonder what breathing without your heart breaking looks like. You wonder what words without the taste of death feel like. You wonder what the universe is trying to tell you through all this. But you never ever wonder if things get better. Because you are sure they never do.
When you love someone, promise me you will not love them like they are a war and you are the thing that will help them win. Promise me, you will not hunt down their flaws like enemies in a battlefield to kill them. People were not made to be saved by you or anyone else. All we can hope for in this life is a chance to be able to save ourselves.
The Sea, The Rive, The Oceans
The thing is, you can’t save people from themselves because they will just grab hold of you like you are a lifeline, you will both go under and neither of you will emerge. There is only one way to save someone from drowning and that is to teach them how to swim.
Some people grow entire oceans inside themselves instead of hearts.
It’s why they have more love to give than anyone can ever return.
It’s why they awaken sometimes to heartache and tear soaked pillows.
Sometimes it is a blessing to love something so much more than you love yourself. Sometimes it is a curse to love anything so much more than you love yourself.
The moon has always been the ocean’s most jealous lover. But every time he has tried to fully control her tides, she has turned into a terrible tempest and broken through his chains with such fury, only allowing him the illusion of control on her smallest, weakest tides. Remember that you are the ocean. And no one, not even the moon itself is allowed to control your glorious, beautiful tides.
All these pieces you have cut out of your soul to give to those you say need them more than you. Have you forgotten how it felt when you were drowning with nothing to hold onto?
The ocean holds magic for those who seek it. But she only bestows her best magic on those who deserve it. There is a lesson in that for you. Give your best to those who deserve it, not to everyone who seeks it.
Wild
The most important lesson I learnt on the day you left me is the realization nothing that is truly wild ever weeps for its broken heart. - The Day You Left
The Earth
When someone plants flowers in parts of your spirit that were dark closed, broken before they arrived, do not let them wither when they leave.
Instead, love them for growing love them for living love them for letting the light back into your soul.
I hope you fall in love with someone well versed in the language of forests and monsoon. I hope you fall in love with someone who loves you like the wolf loves the moon.
I wonder if the earth ever heard the ocean cry for the people she lost when they drowned inside her depths.
My darling, I know it seems like the end of the world, that everything has been destroyed, that the whole earth is in flames. But remember, there are beginnings in endings, through destruction there comes life and you have the same strength in you that makes the phoenix rise from the flames.
Heal
Be careful when you ask love to stay. Not every love is kind and true. But every love leaves fingerprints on your heart forever.
And first, before him and before her and before them there was you.
Never forget that.
The next time you cry, take a lesson from the rain. Learn the way she never holds back her storm or how loud her tears are when they fall.
I hope you find someone who knows how to love you when you are sad.
Be kind. There is strength in kindness.
For it is only when a kind person starts to grow thorns you realize how strong their heart really is.
The way you have loved speaks volumes about you. The way they leave speaks volumes about them. Your love is not poison. Their inability to appreciate it is.
You don’t have to prove to anyone just how tough you are. You are still here, and you are still alive despite all of life’s storms and tornado and hurricanes. You have weathered them all like a grand old oak tree, and you are still here. You are still alive. And if that isn’t tough, I don’t know what is.
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Text
Set In Darkness
Chapter: 40
Author name: ShannaraIsles
Rating: M
Warnings: Canon-typical violence and threat
Summary: She’s a Modern Girl in Thedas, but it isn’t what she wanted. There’s a scary dose of reality as soon as she arrives. It isn’t her story. People get hurt here; people die here, and there’s no option to reload if you make a bad decision. So what’s stopping her from plunging head first into the Void at the drop of a hat?
Breathe
Threnn the quartermaster might have unpopular opinions, but her instincts were spot on.
Thanks to her, what was left of the Inquisition had tents to camp in, food to eat, medicines and ravens and even gurns to use as pack animals. She'd taken charge when they'd reached this sheltered little valley, sending parties out to cut wood and start fires, ordering others to set up tents, haranguing the cooks into making enough soup for everyone. Without her foresight and somewhat belligerent attitude, this temporary place of safety would have become a frozen tomb. No one was allowed to sit idle and brood over what was lost; Threnn and her people forced the survivors to pull together, fighting against the snow and their own grief to keep surviving.
The healers needed no such cajoling. Of everyone here, their work was the most obvious, and as stragglers who had survived the attack on the pilgrims' camp found their way to this new sanctuary, Rory had no time to wonder or worry over who else wasn't with them. Here and now, they had time to give the best care they could, and she set herself to it with as much energy as she had left. As she set bones, cooled burns, dressed wounds, she barely noticed the camp taking form around her, focused on what she could do to help these people who had lived through a horror. It wasn't until Dorian took her hand, hours later, that she let herself realize that she had lived through it, too.
"Here." The unusually taciturn mage pushed a cup of steaming soup into her grasp, guiding her gently down onto a bench by one of the fires. "You're fit to drop."
"You don't look that much better yourself," she told him wearily. "Is there any sign of Kaaras yet?"
Dorian shook his head. "None." He sighed, settling down at her side. "It is truly heartening to note how many of us believe there will be, though."
Rory nodded, wincing as she swallowed her scalding mouthful. Cassandra had been the most vocal in her vehement insistence that Kaaras would survive, refusing to stay in the camp to wait. Instead, she had marched back up to the rocky crest that hid this little valley from unfriendly eyes. She was still there now, with Cullen and Iron Bull and a handful of soldiers, maintaining her vigil, keeping watch for that tell-tale glint of green light against the snow. If that isn't the beginnings of love, then I don't know what is.
She pushed her thick braid back over her shoulder, grimacing at the sensation of charred hair under her fingers as she looked around at the makeshift camp. It was quiet now - even if they weren't sleeping, most people were crammed into what few tents they had, huddled together for warmth. A few fires burned, kept alive by watchers who were not ready to try settling down yet. Roderick sat by one of those fires, under orders not to go to sleep until the healers were sure he would wake up again, Cole crouched by his side. The spirit boy seemed at once offended and delighted by the fact that his prediction of the chancellor's death had been proven wrong, apparently staying close to the man just to make sure. Mother Giselle and a few of her sisters were in evidence, giving those they had lost since finding safety the last rites before burial or cremation. At the half-open flap of a nearby tent was the odd sight of Blackwall, Josephine, and Varric, all wrapped under the same fur, dozing on each others' shoulders. By the light of another fire, Rylen held Evy close in his arms, both of them staring into the flames in silence, too tired even to feel numb. Behind them, a shadow looked up at the rocky crest - Leliana, on guard for anything that might happen.
Rory felt herself sigh with the sense of defeat hanging over the survivors. "It's a mess, isn't it?"
"It doesn't look good, no," Dorian agreed soberly. "But we're alive. We survived."
"Not all of us."
Four words, and that impenetrable wall holding her emotions at bay crumbled. All it took was a simple acknowledgement of the tragedy, and the tears began to flow. In her mind, Rory relived the shock and fear; she heard again the last breaths of the dozens who had died at her hand so others had a better chance of living. She saw the accusation in those eyes as they died, felt again the sting of failure, heard again Netta's angry indictment against her. Murderer.
"And there it is." Dorian gently took the cup from her hand as she shook in the grasp of those recent memories. "It's about time you reacted like a normal person."
His arm wrapped about her shoulders, and she turned gratefully to press her face into his cloak, needing to be held as she poured out the fear and guilt and shame in heaving sobs that wracked her weary form without mercy. They weren't pretty tears, not like the tears in movies. They were raw and primal, silent only because she lacked the energy to scream; snot and saliva dribbled free unchecked as her freckled face flushed in blotchy shades of pink and red, salt stinging her eyes as she tried to find her way back to herself through the storm.
"I killed all those people," she sobbed painfully against the mage's shoulder. "I'm worse than those templars. I'm a murderer."
She felt Dorian's arm tighten around her. "Don't be ridiculous," he told her. "You're much too pretty to be a murderer. All that blood would clash with your hair."
Even in the midst of her sobs, she felt a laugh bubble up unexpectedly. Seriously? That's his idea of being comforting? She lifted her head, leveling an incredulous look at him from red-rimmed eyes. He raised an innocent brow, pulling a soft cloth from his belt to wipe at her face.
"Look at you, you're a dribbling mess," he informed her easily as he wiped her face clean, encouraging her to blow her nose. "Death is death, darling. Better an easy release at your hands than lingering agony and the loss of others in their place. You are not a murderer. And whether you believe in Him or not, the Maker understands."
"I'm supposed to heal people," she sniveled unattractively. "I'm not supposed to decide if they live or die. What if I made the wrong decisions?"
"Did you?" he asked pointedly, pulling her up shot with the unexpectedly blunt query.
Rory's tears stuttered to a halt as she faced that question head-on, looking at her choices with the clarity of hindsight. "I-I don't think I did, but -"
"Then there's no point to this second-guessing," the altus told her firmly. "Grieve for the dead, by all means ... but don't insult them, or the living, by losing faith in your own ability. Others could not make the decisions you made when it mattered the most." He dipped his head, making sure she was looking into his eyes and listening. "It's a heavy burden to bear. Lucky for you, you have a gorgeously broad-shouldered commander to help you bear it."
Unbidden, another laugh rushed from her chest at his gentle tease. Despite everything, she actually felt better for this unasked-for pep-talk. Sniffling back her tears, she reached up to draw the debonair Tevinter into a hug, surprised to feel him tense for a moment before he hesitantly joined in. Get used to it, Sparkler, I'm a hugger.
"Thank you," she murmured into his shoulder, squeezing him gently.
Drawing back, Dorian offered her a startlingly shy smile, patting her hand almost awkwardly. "Well, I'm no healer," he said in a deprecating tone. "I'm pretty much useless out here."
"You're far from useless, Dorian," she promised him, absently glancing away only to feel her heart suddenly lift. "Far from useless - heat some blankets for me, would you?"
"I beg your pardon?"
She nodded to the snow-covered rise above the camp, already pushing to her feet as she called for Evy to join her. Because, right there, shadows against the darkness growing clearer with every step, came Iron Bull, Cassandra, and Cullen ... bearing with them the unconscious bulk of Kaaras Adaar. It was the work of just a few minutes to empty the smallest tent and get him inside, and then the real work began.
"Get his wet clothes off, I want to see his fingers and feet," Rory ordered Bull, who hadn't managed to get out of the tent in time. "Evy, check him for obvious injuries - take his pulse." Opening her depleted pack, she rummaged through it as the pair of them got to work. "Someone find Solas, please," she called to the shadows lurking outside the tent flaps. If anyone deserved magical healing tonight, it was Kaaras.
She heard Cassandra volunteer to do that; heard Cullen setting a guard on the tent as the camp began to rouse to the wonderful news that the Herald of Andraste was alive. Even unconscious, Kaaras cried out in pain as Bull pulled his limp arms from his wet armor, the hang of the right declaring a dislocated shoulder. One of his horns was snapped clean in half; cuts and bruises littered his grey skin. But, blessedly, there was no sign of frostbite. Lucky bastard.
"His pulse is strong," Evy reported. "I think he has broken ribs on his right, too."
"Right." Rory handed her a small bottle of oil - comfrey, embrium, and drakestone, intended to warm and relax muscles. "Rub that into his right shoulder."
As Evy poured the warming, anti-inflammatory oil into her palm, Rory moved to look at the clean break of Kaaras' horn. It was definitely a clean break, but the tissues within were oozing blood, and looked swollen. It looked painful, but what did she know about horns?
"Cauterize it," Bull suggested as she hesitated, both of them glancing up as Dorian pushed into the tent, his arms laden with blankets so warm they were steaming. Dorian's a fire mage, isn't he? Helpful.
"We can do that." Rory nodded to Bull, grateful for the help as she took the blankets from Dorian's grasp. "Stay here, I need you," she told the altus, looking to Bull once again. "Can you put that shoulder back in?"
The Qunari mercenary winced, but nodded. "You got it."
Evy squeaked as he gently lifted her out of his way, watching in wide-eyed fascination as, without fuss or discernible effort, the Iron Bull manipulated Kaaras' dislocated shoulder back into the socket with an audible thunk. An unknown hand thrust into the tent, tossing dry clothing at them, and Bull again surprised them all, this time with his gentleness as he dressed his friend, careful of the injuries that made him moan in pain.
"What is it you need me to do?" Dorian asked, tearing his eyes from Bull's big, gentle hands as the two women crowded around the patient once more.
"I need you to come here and cauterize this horn for me," Rory told him as Bull ducked out of the tent. With the merc leader gone, the little tent suddenly felt a lot bigger.
"And how do I do that, exactly?" the mage asked in concern, moving to the head of the bedroll.
"Here." She paused in helping Evy to tuck the warm blankets around Kaaras' still form to flip her belt knife out of its sheath and into Dorian's hand. "Heat the blade until it's hot, not glowing, and press it to the wound in short bursts, no more than two seconds at a time."
"Well, that sounds mildly revolting," Dorian commented mildly, already heating the blade as the women worked.
It was at this point that Rory forgot something fundamental. An unconscious person, if subjected to enough pain, will rouse and react accordingly. Thus, at the first touch of hot metal to the raw wound on his half-horn, Kaaras let out a loud moan, arching up off the bedroll violently. Evy and Dorian reared back in alarm; Rory wasn't so lucky. One large hand lashed out and caught hold of her right forearm, dragging her back down onto her knees as they all heard the bones crack in Kaaras' crushing grip. She let out an uninhibited shriek of agony, the pain shocking the weariness from her body even as she whimpered.
"Rory?!"
That was Cullen, and he sounded a little too close to the tent for comfort, his reaction openly concerned. The last thing she wanted was for him to come rushing in here and turn a minor disaster into chaos.
"It's fine, I'm fine!" she somehow managed to yell back, as her hand went limp and too white for comfort. "No need to come in, it's all under control! Hold him down," she ordered Evy in a lower tone, impressed when the girl assessed the situation and sat herself heavily on the unconscious Qunari's chest. "Dorian, get on with it!"
Deeply reluctant, the Tevinter mage did as he was told, all three of them enduring the smell, the thrashing, and the sound of Rory's broken bones grinding together under Kaaras' unknowing grip. It felt like an age - the Torture Age, the inner fangirl unhelpfully offered - but finally the work was done. Kaaras slowly relaxed back to the tune of Rory's shaking whimpers as Evy pried his fingers from her ruined arm.
"Fasta vass," Dorian breathed, a little shocked when he saw the mangled mess that was Rory's right forearm. Never heard him say that in the game. "Why did you let him do that?"
Breathless and white-lipped from the pain, Rory managed a grimace of a smile. "I don't think straight when I'm tired," she offered as her only excuse. "There's a splint in that pack beside you ... could you get it out, please? Evy ... I need you to pull the bones straight."
Evy looked at her pale face, horrified. "But you haven't taken anything for the pain."
Rory shook her head, feeling wrung out and close to fainting, but stubborn enough to force her way through this. "That would be a waste of what little we have," she argued, however much she wanted to swallow about a pint of healing potion right about now. "It's going to hurt no matter what we do. Why waste something that could be used for someone else?"
Hesitantly, the younger woman laid her hands on the senior healer's arm, wincing in sympathy as she prepared to do as she'd been asked. And jumped as the tent flap opened, inadvertently pulling the bones straight before Rory was braced for it. Spots danced before her eyes as pure agony surged up her nerves, everything feeling freezing and burning and generally not very good at all.
"Bollocking fuck!" she hissed at nothing in particular, gasping as Dorian laid the splint against her arm as gently as he could.
"I see I have arrived a little late," she vaguely heard Solas say as he edged past in the cramped space to examine Kaaras.
"Where were you?" Rory demanded, definitely not in the mood for superior remarks right now.
"Scouting," the elven mage said simply, glancing at the three of them. "There is no need for the splint. I have mana enough for both of you."
"That would be better than reminding the faithful out there that the Herald of Andraste is a fearful Qunari every time they look at you, darling," Dorian pointed out with annoyingly good sense.
"And we are low on resources," Evy added, knowing her friend was wary of magic, but eager to persuade her to get healed properly. Rory attempting to give anyone treatment with a broken dominant arm did not bear thinking about.
She couldn't really argue with them, even though it meant letting Solas - Fen'Harel - use his power on her. It was a risk, but it was one worth taking. "Fine," she conceded with a sigh. "In that case, you two should go and get some sleep. Solas will take care of me, and Kaaras will be fine."
It was a little disheartening to note how quickly Evy and Dorian obeyed, but then, they didn't know what she knew. She inched to a more comfortable position, cradling her broken arm carefully as she moved. What I wouldn't give for morphine ... or laughing gas ... hell, even ibuprofen. It was rather fascinating to watch Solas work, she had to admit. He drew a kind of soothing stillness around himself, drawing his hands over Kaaras as he sought out the injuries that needed to be put right. Not for the first time, Rory found herself envious of mages in general. What would it be like, to have the power to heal any wound, any illness, any injury, at her fingertips? Probably less fun than bandages and prodding at open wounds, now she came to think about it. But she could dream, right?
Lost in fantasies of being a mage healer, she started in surprise to find Solas watching her.
"How is he?" she asked, nodding to the still form under the blankets behind him as he touched her broken arm with gentle fingers.
"Sleeping easily," the elf told her. "Thanks to your efforts, there was relatively little that needed healing."
A tight knot of worry she hadn't realized was there unraveled in her stomach. He's going to be fine. It was strange, she reflected, how her attitude to Solas was so filled with contradictions. She was wary of him, almost frightened, and knew he couldn't be trusted; and yet, she did trust him with things like this. She accepted that he knew what he was talking about when it came to healing and magic, trusting his presented view easily. Even being the Dread Wolf didn't take away his expertise with the more mundane magics he performed.
She glanced down at his hand on her arm. "This is going to hurt, isn't it?"
To her surprise, the Dread Wolf actually smiled at her. "It is done," he said simply, removing his hand without ceremony.
Rory stared at her arm, at the pink flushed skin of her hand, tentatively wriggling her fingers. No bruise, no deformity ... no pain. She raised her arm hesitantly, rippling her fingers into a fist experimentally, and smiled as her limb responded as though never injured at all. "Thank you," she said in a soft tone, wonder filling her voice at this amazing feat.
"The Inquisition cannot have its healer maimed forever by the Herald of Andraste," he reasoned without sarcasm, calmly rising to leave the tent. The words sent a shiver through her. But it can have its Inquisitor maimed forever by the Dread Wolf.
Left alone with the sleeping Qunari, Rory crawled over to lay her fingers against his neck, to satisfy herself that he was just sleeping. His pulse beat beneath her touch, strong and steady, making her smile. You really are a tough sod, aren't you, Kaaras Adaar? Thank you for coming home. Settling in to keep vigil over him, she leaned close to kiss her friend's brow fondly. But she wasn't alone for long. Just a few minutes after Solas left, Cassandra lifted the flap to look into the tent.
"May I ... may I join you?" the Seeker asked, her worried eyes settling on Kaaras as he sighed heavily and shifted onto his side.
Rory nodded, feeling something warm spark in her heart at the unspoken devotion in the woman's gaze. "Of course," she assured her friend, raising her hand to invite her inside. "He's just sleeping now."
Cassandra folded herself awkwardly at Rory's side, her eyes hungrily searching the Qunari's face for any sign he was in pain. Finding none, she seemed to relax a little, content to keep this vigil at his side for as long as it took. Exhausted now that everyone was where they needed to be, Rory dozed, her eyes falling shut as she sighed quietly.
"Idiot man," she heard Cassandra mutter, the insult overlaid with a deep fondness that could not be overlooked. "Ordering me to leave your side while you face down a dragon alone. I should not have done it. I will not do it. I will never leave you again."
Wisely keeping silent, feigning sleep, Rory had to struggle to keep the smile from appearing on her face. I just bet you won't, she thought to herself. Time to introduce Kaaras to Swords and Shields.
#set in darkness#multi-chapter fic#mgit#modern girl in thedas#cullen rutherford/original female character#cullen rutherford/rory allen#rory allen#dorian pavus#evy trevelyan#kaaras adaar#iron bull#cassandra pentaghast#cullen rutherford#shortly after haven falls#survivor's guilt#wishing and hoping and praying#dorian's shoulder to cry on#sparkler needs to get used to being hugged#rory needs to remember that qunari are strong bastards#everyone needs to chill out#cassandra's in lurve#but like megara she won't say it#i'm wandering into disney now#oops
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