Synopsis: You were truly surprised when you saw that the seeds your husband planted started to become seedlings.
Warnings: Fluff
You have been feeling nauseous for a while now but ignored it. As you started to feel dizzy you knew something was up with you. It has been two weeks since your Honeymoon period ended. You and George spent every minute together from waking up in each others arms to stargazing at night.
Your were currently knitting as you observed George pacing around nervously, he was writing a speech for the British council members something he has to do every other month. As he had his duties you also had yours which were picking your Ladies in waiting.
'Stop pacing my love, you’ll do a wonderful job believe me.' You said as you stood up placing your hands onto his shoulders.
'I don’t know why I’m so nervous.' He chuckled turning around to pull you into his arms. You giggled pecking his lips knowing that he was truly improving regarding his illness. You remembered like it was yesterday where Reynolds got you and told you what George had planned. Knowing that the Royal Physician was known for his torturous therapy methods terrified you.
You were happy when you could stop it even before it began. You loved him the way he was, as a mad man as farmer George and king George at the end of the day he was your husband and you loved him.
He wanted to get better for you, you appreciated it but he was enough and will always be enough.
'Will you be alright without me?' He asked nudging you nose cutely. You nodded it’s only going to be a day and Brimsley and your handmaid Emilia would be with you.
'Show them who you are, my love.’ you smiled stroking his cheeks. As you suddenly felt nauseous but you tried to suppress it, but George caught it.
'Everything alright my dear?' He asked with concern in his face.
'I’m alright nothing to worry about my king, now go show them what you are capable off.' You grinned walking him out.
'I’ll see you tomorrow night.' He said placing a long kiss on your lips.
'Have a safe journey.'
After George and Reynolds left you decided to take a walk through the Garden it was a nice sunny day that quickly turned into a gloomy one. You heard Brimsley suggesting you to return but as stubborn as you were you ignored his suggestion. You saw Emilia and some other maids picking flowers for your bedroom. Something they did, every three days they use the dried ones as scent bags for your wardrobe which leaves a nice floral scent.
They greeted you as you passed and you greeted them back. But before you could even focus your attention on your walk you felt dizzy, your head started to throb and your were sure you could vomit any second.
The change in your body demeanor was picked on quickly by your Maid Emilia who was about to ask if everything was alright. But before she could to that your eyes rolled back and your body dropped to the ground.
And all you could hear were screams.
'What is with her, I demand an answer' you heard the hushed voice of your husband behind the door. You were confused he wasn’t supposed to be back that soon. You didn’t remember what had happened but the way your head was throbbing, you knew that you must’ve fainted. You opened your eyes seeing that you were in you chambers covered in blankets.
'-george, George' you muttered trying to get someone’s attention and by the gasp you heard and the rushed steps towards you, you could see your maid Emilia appearing next to you. She looked like she had been in distress but you could see it changing when she saw you wide awake.
'Your Majesty, thank god you are awake' she said reaching for a cup of water to give it to you.
'What happened to me? and where is my husband here?' you said tiredly trying to sit up so you could drink some water. Emilia helped you take a couple of swallows until you turned your face to the still visible argument outside.
'You fainted yesterday and I called to doctor immediately to exam you your Majesty.'
‘Yesterday? I’ve been unconscious that long? What of my husband why is he here what about his speech?' You asked her confused.
'The doctor is outside with him, your husband just arrived from his council meeting, after he heard what happened.' She said picking on her fingers nervously.
'I want to see him please.' She nodded walking hastily to the door. You could hire her talk even if it wasn’t that clear.
'Your Majesty she’s awake and asking for you.' Before she could even get back in your husband rushed past her without a glimpse.
'Oh darling' he said with glassy eyes, he looked exhausted and you felt bad that you hadn’t said anything before.
'I’m fine, George' you said showing him a small smile grabbing his hands gently.
'No, you aren’t you should’ve told me that you didn’t feel well, I’d have never left you.' He muttered pressing kisses to the back of your hands.
'What of your speech?' you asked.
'Forget the speech my wife just fainted do you really think my thoughts are still on that? You should’ve told me that you weren’t feeling well.' He said frustrated.
'His majesty is right my Queen, someone in your condition should’ve said something earlier.' The doctor said walking into the room with his intern behind him.
'What condition?' You asked nervously, was it a incurable disease? Or something remotely close?
'Oh my apologies my Queen I thought you were well aware that you are 7 weeks pregnant.'
'Y-you said pregnant?' you heard George say next to you.
'I’m with child?' you asked feeling your tears escaping your eyes. You were with child the whole time without even noticing. If you think back your monthly period hasn’t been coming in a while and the tenderness in your breast was also an indicator that you were pregnant.
'Yes your Majesty congratulations I’ll be going now. If you need anything feel free to call for me.' With that he left you alone with your husband. Your staff also departed but not without congratulating the both of you.
When the door closed you husband leaped up to engulf you in a hug, you could feel his lefty hand on you lower stomach were a bulge was starting forming.
'A little king or a little queen' he whispered happily to himself trying to process what he just heard.
'You are going to be a father.' You said gently wrapping your arms around his neck.
'And you are going to be a mother.' he leaned down pressing pecks onto your face.
'Seems like it didn’t take to long until my seeds started to become seedlings making your womb bloom, my love.'
'They sure didn’t take to long and with no time our little bundle will find the daylight.'
A/N: and here it is! The 2nd to last part of The Selection! Sorry that it has taken so long to come out but I did have trouble deciding plots and stuff but it's here now!! I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Nine || Masterlist ||
When you woke up the next morning, Loki was gone. The bed was still warm which signalled that he hadn’t been gone long but his absence weighed down on you, especially after the announcement of your marriage on TV last night. You sat up in bed, the covers slipping down your body as you rubbed your eyes and yawned, pulling your arms up into a stretch before slipping out of bed and walking over to the window. There was a party going on just outside of the city, Asgardians dancing around a lit fire even if the sun was shining down on them in replacement of the dozy moon. The planets you could see around Asgard were just as still as they had been yesterday. Nothing terrible had happened in the wake of your marriage announcement to Loki.
You were curious as to where your fiance had gone but when you remembered that Odin wanted to speak with him, you thought it only polite that you leave father and son alone to talk.
“My lady,” came the familiar voice of Madysin as she stepped into the room through the servants entrance, she looked like she was glowing with pride, her head held high as she walked over to you with Charlotte in tow, “we wanted to congratulate you on your engagement to the Prince! It was an honour to serve you as a maid to a Selected but now as a soon-to-be Princess, you can decide to call upon different maids… we understand if you let us go.”
Your face softened with emotion, your smile threatening to break into the widest grin ever. You placed your hands on their shoulders and pulled them into a tight hug, “why would I ever want to dismiss you? After all you have done for me? I know you made those dresses I love so much, I know you bring me fresh fruits from Midgard whenever you can, I know that you work tirelessly behind the scenes with no recognition to make sure that I look my best and feel great. I couldn’t ask for better maids.”
The girls looked just about ready to cry but they both dipped into a curtsy with a whispered ‘thank you’ before walking you into the bathroom to get you ready for the day. As they bathed you and rubbed salts into your skin, you wondered how it was going with Loki and his father, not knowing that today would not be a good day for Asgard.
On the other side of the palace, Loki finally reached Odin’s chambers and he straightened his back, clasped his hands behind him and allowed the guard to knock and allow him entry into Odin’s study. When Loki stepped into the study, the first thing he noticed was his father looking out of the window and down to the city below, the second was the Casket of Ancient Winters sitting on the desk. As though entranced, Loki stepped toward it and watched the raging storm until Odin slammed his hand down between him and the object.
“This is going to be the topic of our conversation,” Odin began with a bored tone, eyeing his son with a look that Loki felt inferior under and he didn’t like feeling that way, it made him feel like a child that was being punished. “Loki, how old are you?”
Loki straightened up and cleared his throat before responding, “a thousand and forty eight years, father.”
“Let me tell you a story,” his father began, watching as Loki tensed before he walked over to his throne-like office chair and sat down regally in it, “sit.”
Loki swiftly sat down on the chair on the opposite side of Odin’s desk and nervously bit his lip as he watched his father, waiting for him to begin his story. His heart was beating with adrenaline, something was wrong but even the ever-so-smart Loki couldn’t pinpoint the aged weariness behind Odin’s eyes.
“It started just before the end of the Aesir-Jötunheim war,” Odin began, his eyes looking down at the Casket as it swirled between the King and spare Prince, “I was fighting beside my warriors, keeping the monsters from attacking our base and protecting the wounded when we got a tip that there was a gathering just over a mountain so we made haste, boldly hoping to win the war. We got over the mountain and found the King of the Jötnar; Laufey. He was with his wife, Farbauti, and they were fighting my troops. I took down Farbauti first and Laufey retreated into the building. My troops and I stormed the building, slaying every monster in sight and we were about to leave before we heard a cry…. a baby cry.”
A knot formed in Loki’s stomach as he watched Odin continue talking, his hands shaking as his intelligent brain began putting pieces together. “Me,” he whispered brokenly, his eyes searching Odin for the words that would put him at ease.
“Yes,” Odin responded dully, watching as something in his son cracked, “now that you are betrothed and a Jötun has lost their chance to wed you, I thought you deserved to know.”
Loki clenched his jaw and rose from his seat quickly, ignoring as it slammed to the floor under the speed he stood and slammed his hands down on the desk, “if I had remained alone and never taken a wife, would you have still not told me?”
“I would have told you eventually, Loki,” Odin replied easily, his eyes calm and peaceful in the face of Loki’s anger.
“You were knee-deep in Jötun blood, why would you take me?!” Loki demanded, his tears threatening to fall as Odin stood from his desk, rounding the desk to approach the Prince, “No! Don’t! Don’t come near me!”
Odin’s face hardened as he looked at the Jötun child he raised, the trauma on his face didn’t mean anything to the King of Asgard. What he did was for the good of Asgard’s future. Having Laufey’s child raised as an Aesir is beneficial to Asgard’s continued legacy. “You were an innocent child,” Odin continued, his voice hardened and stony, “I only wanted to protect you from the truth.”
Loki scoffed and stepped away from the King, “no, you took me for a purpose… what was it?”
At Odin’s silence, Loki’s panic increased tenfold, his mind racing a mile a minute and he trembled as he glared at his father, “tell me, Odin.”
Odin released a weary sigh and dropped his head as Loki approached him, his face pure power and traumatised hopelessness. “I had hoped to marry you off to a worthy Asgardian woman so I decided that The Selection would be a good enough way to ensure you married just like that. Instead, you chose the weak Midgardian whose life is a thousand times shorter than your own.”
“Do not bring Y/N into this,” Loki snarled, his senses heightening as his seidr crackled around his body, preparing him for a battle he didn’t want to fight, “I will marry no other than her.”
“You will marry who I deem is worthy to you and that Midgardian girl will barely be around to bear you a child before she withers and dies,” Odin responded with a sneer, his hand curling around Gungnir as his body began to feel tired.
Loki froze and faked a laugh as he shook his head, “I can’t believe you.” He looked at his father and green engulfed his hands as a show of his power, his eyes were dangerous and full of the temptation to kill his kidnapper, “I shall disown myself from this family if you force me to marry any other woman than the one I chose.”
“Loki…” Odin tried, trying to walk closer to the adopted child, “it would be for the good of the Kingdom.”
“If you were going to choose anyway, Odin, you shouldn’t have allowed The Selection to happen but it did. So now you have to deal with the girl I chose,” Loki sneered before turning on his heels and striding out of the office.
As Loki stalked away from the King’s office, tears welled up in his eyes as he reached out to his pocket dimension to see if the Casket was still secure in it and when he felt that it was, he released a damaged sigh and returned to your chambers. The moment he saw you just putting on your earrings, his heart hammered against his chest and he wanted nothing more than to just fall into your arms but he had to remain stoic, he needed to show you. He needed to know if you were loyal.
You looked up and smiled when you saw your fiance standing in the doorway but the smile faded when you saw the expression on his face. He looked upset, angered and on the verge of a breakdown. “Loki,” you whispered softly, rising from your vanity slowly and walking closer to him, “what happened?”
“What do your myths tell you of me?” Loki asked instead of answering, his seiðr swirling around him to leave him in his tunic and leggings and he watched you with a broken glare, “what did you know of me before you met me?”
You tilted your neck and thought back to the Nordic myths you had grown up with, trying to understand why he’d ask about myths about himself but you figured that he needed reassurance in some way so you remained calm and guided him to your sofas. “The myths tell of you being just as you are, Loki the God of Mischief and Trickery,” you explained as Loki sat beside you.
“But that’s not just it, is it?” Loki whispered, his fingers intertwining with yours as he stared at the dying embers of the fire, “what does your myths say about my species?”
That’s when it clicked for you. He didn’t know he was Jötun. “Oh, Loki…” you whispered with a heavy sigh, squeezing his hand gently before whispering sadly, “Loki the God of Mischief and Trickery is a Jötun that was brought to Asgard.”
Loki clicked his tongue and rose from the sofa to walk towards the door again. You cried out his name and followed him, your heart racing as you feared that he would leave and never look back. “Loki, wait!” you called out to him, grabbing his wrist just as he went to open the door, “please, don’t leave me!”
“You sound pathetic,” Loki spat, turning to you with a glare, “how could you love me? A monster who was hidden in Asgardian skin? A pawn to a bigger plan! I was never anything! Just a pawn! Look at me!”
With that, he conjured the Casket into his hands and you watched as blue started to seep into his skin, the handsome Asgardian skin making way for beautiful azure skin below it with darkened ridges that trailed up under the tunic sleeves. Your eyes raised to watch as the blue enveloped the alabaster skin of Loki's face and your breath hitched as those emerald eyes seeped into an alluring red that urged you temptingly closer.
Loki must have misunderstood the hitch in your breath as fear as he scoffed and turned away, "you see? I am a monster, y/n."
Just as he was turning the doorknob, he heard you faintly whisper, "I see no monster."
Loki rounded on you, his eyes blazing with rage but you stayed still, you knew this was all a show to try and push you away, to bring on a rejection he thought was coming, to urge you to show that you were lying. But you weren't.
"You do not see the monster in front of you?" Loki snarled, his eyes locked straight on yours as his breathing became ragged, "I am a monster, y/n! How do you not see that?"
You stepped forward and cupped his cheek, smiling despite the chill that spread up your arm at the feel of his skin. "I see no monster," you repeated, watching Loki flinch at your gentle words slicing through the storm of his thoughts, "I see my fiancé, my Prince, my love. I see Loki but I see no monster."
"But I am Jötun," Loki pressed, his hand coming to hold your own on his cheek, his eyes flooding with emotion as he looked between your lips and eyes.
"You are Loki," you whispered gently, pressing a kiss against his nose before slipping your hands into his and walking backwards towards the bedroom.
Loki realised what you were doing and withdrew his hands from yours, his breath increasing as he shook his head, "I can't."
"You'll never hurt me," you whispered gently before sitting him on the bed. You settled yourself on his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, your noses touching as you held him close.
“I don’t want to,” Loki whispered against your skin, his lips slowly tracing against the soft skin of your neck and his hands gently rubbed circles into your back, “I don’t feel like fucking, Y/N.”
You pulled your arms from around his neck and looked into his eyes before a warm smile spread across your lips and you nodded gently, “okay. Just let me hold you.”
The God nodded and you wrapped your arms around his neck again, pulling him closer into your embrace, feeling him relax against your body and slowly begin to collapse into sobs, his chest inflating and deflating at a hurried rate as he panicked through his sobs, trying to mould his breathing into your example as you shushed him and caressed his hair. The Prince’s fingers dug into your skin, the cold making you shiver but you didn’t let go, he needed this. You began singing one of the lullabies you had been taught to sing to your sisters and you slowly felt him settle into your arms.
Looking over to the window, you rose from the God’s lap and helped him to his feet before guiding him onto the balcony. Loki’s eyes were puffy from crying so they took a moment to adjust to what they were seeing but when he realised that you were pointing to the Bifrost, he looked to you questioningly.
“Can we go home?” you whispered softly, looking up into his eyes with a small smile, a desperate plea to go back to the warm arms of your family and bring Loki into that secure family was all that was in your mind right now, “please, Loki.”
“But our wedding,” Loki whispered, his voice hoarse from crying as his hand held yours tight.
“We’ll be back for our wedding, Loki,” you whispered, standing in front of him and wiping away the tears in his eyes, “please, we both need to get away from here.”
Loki took a calming breath and the next thing you knew, you were standing on the Bifrost outside the Observatory. You looked up to see that Loki now looked Asgardian again and any sign that he had been crying was hidden from sight but you knew that Heimdall could tell, you could tell that he had been watching Loki in the moments before this.
“You wish to return to Midgard?” Heimdall asked you once you strode into the Observatory. His golden armour shone in the sunset, the helmet on his head making him look more intimidating in this moment.
You nodded shyly and tightened your hold on Loki’s hand with a shy smile, “I do wish to go home with Loki until our wedding, you know as well as I do that if Loki stays here right now, he’ll break.”
Heimdall nodded with understanding before his eyes drifted to the palace and he whispered, “I am going to be forbidden from letting you go in thirty seconds so I wish you a good journey, Prince and Princess. I hope you find the comfort you’re both searching for.”
The Bifrost activated before you both could thank him and in the next moment, you were standing on the Bifrost site that you had used quite frequently now.
“We don’t need to take the train,” Loki whispered, lifting your chin with his finger and pressing his lips to yours to distract you from the teleportation spell he cast to bring you to the town square of your home. When you pulled away, he watched you and smirked, “see?”
You grinned at him and guided him back to your home. The grass was starting to grow now so you could see that your sisters had started a garden outside the living room window, growing peonies, roses and forget-me-nots. You smiled as you crossed the path towards the door and noticed that even that had been replaced in the short time since your visit. It was now a very rich oak door that had ‘No.45’ carved in silver on the door and it sounded pleasing as you knocked on it.
When the door was pulled open by your mother, you only had half a second to think before you were on the floor with Donna and Milly in your arms.
“YOU’RE A PRINCESS!” Milly screamed as she nuzzled into your neck, kicking her legs as she laughed excitedly, pressing kisses to your cheeks, “my sister is a princess!! She’s going to be a Princess!!”
Milly’s delight was infectious and you began laughing as you hugged the girls close to your chest. “I’m home, that is all that you should be bothered about,” you shouted over your sister’s laughter, rising to sit on your knees as the girls curled into both sides of your body, “we need a place to rest for a few days.”
Your mother appeared around the corner and you watched as her eyes lit up in excitement the moment that she saw you. “We just got a new room built, actually,” your mother began instantly, animated in a way that you hadn’t seen her before, not even at Christmas, “we had the room made specially for you and Loki, in fact!”
“Mama,” you smiled as you stood, your smile growing wider as you saw your sisters latch onto your legs and you embraced your mother, “you didn’t need to do anything for us.”
“Nonsense,” your mother argued with a smile, patting your back and smiling over your shoulder to Loki, “engaged couples shouldn’t sleep separately! Loki, dear, do come in.”
Loki looked stunned to be addressed so casually and with a tilt of his head, he stepped forward and into the house. The God had been in the house before but even then, it had sense of unhappiness but now he saw just how much The Selection had helped your family, Everything was fixed, the children were wearing better clothing, the floorboards weren’t uneven and the smell coming from the kitchen smelled much better than it did at Christmas.
You smiled as Loki sat down beside you on the new sofa and you looked over at your father tending to the fire and you grinned. “It’s good to be home,” you whispered, your hand slipping into Loki’s and feeling him squeeze slightly, “our home.”
Donna was the first to approach Loki and you could tell that she was nervous as she approached with the largest bouquet of flowers that you had ever seen. Loki’s eyes snapped to the girl and he tilted his head curiously. “Are these for me?” he asked in a hushed whisper.
Donna nodded and replied with a giant grin, “I got you them to welcome you to the family, brother-in-law!”
Brother-in-law. Something inside Loki warmed as he considered the words and he smiled appreciatively at Donna before grabbing the bouquet gently and making a beautiful vase appear around the stalks and he smiled as he handed them back to Donna with the whisper of, “take them into Y/N’s room and put them on the shelf, they’re beautiful, Donna.”
You saw your sister visibly brighten at the compliment and she took off into the back of the house in the next second. With a grin, you turned to Loki and pressed a kiss to his cheek and whispered in his ear, “you are good with children.”
Loki’s cheeks heated and coloured pink before he turned to you and kissed you softly, his hand cupping your cheek before he pulled away and whispered, “I do hope so, I wish to be a good parent to our heir.”
You smiled and shook your head with a dismissing whisper of, “we are not having a baby for a long while, Loki.”
“You look famished,” your mother suddenly spoke up and the two of you looked away from each other to stare at your mother. In her hands was a tray of freshly baked goods, biscuits, cookies and croissants. “Please, take some.”
Eagerly, you took a handful and began to eat the sweet treats, fully appreciating the fine taste of sugar doubled with your mothers baking skills. You saw that Loki had only taken one cookie, however, and counted down in your mind as your eyes slowly slipped to your mother’s face.
Five… four… three… two… one…
“Loki, dear, take some more, surely you’re hungry?” your mother spoke up again just in time with your counting and you saw Loki’s eyes shift from the cookie to your mothers eyes and his brows creased in confusion. At his reaction, your mother pressed again, “eat more, Loki, don’t you need to eat more than us anyway? One cookie can only be like a grain of sand to you.”
“I am well enough on just this treat, madam, I do thank you for the consideration, though,” Loki replied with a slightly shaky smile, unsure of how to talk to the woman that will become his mother-in-law.
Your mother tutted and grabbed a paper plate from the dining room table before putting one of everything on it and setting it on Loki’s lap, “as my son-in-law, you are not a Prince in this household. You are just Loki, the man my daughter is going to marry. Expect mother henning.”
Loki looked taken aback before he smiled slowly and nodded his agreement, “yes, madam.”
“And that’s another thing,” your mother began again with an adoring smile, watching Loki flinch and look up at her, “do not call me ‘madam’, it makes me sound older than I am. I’ll have you know that I am fifty years old, still young! Mother is enough, thank you, young man.”
A smirk played on Loki’s lips as he looked at your mother and he whispered, “yes, mother.”
~~
Two days later, you and Loki were walking through Brekstad when Loki stopped, his eyes fixed on one place; where the tree used to be. You saw that he was looking there and patted his shoulder with a small smile, “yeah, we can’t keep it up all year, Loki. It was beautiful.”
“Can we do it again?” he whispered softly, catching your attention and when you looked at him, he continued, “can I propose to you in front of the tree again?”
A smile grew on your lips and you nodded. Suddenly, green surrounded you and him and the Christmas Tree was back in its full glory. It was snowing too and you were back in the clothes that you had been that day. He looked just as perfect as he did before in this light, illuminated by the lights that were there to represent protection from the darkness, representing light and happiness. Him standing beneath the tree just as he was, basking in the artificial light of the tree again was giving you the opportunity to make the past right. You would say yes to him this time.
Instead of you kissing him, Loki stooped down to one knee, flipping rogue hair out of his eyes and locking eyes with you, his nose tinting blue with every touch of snowflakes to his body. “Y/N Y/L/N,” the God began with a nervous edge to his voice, “will you do me the honour of marrying me? Of making me the happiest of all Gods and allowing me to call you Y/N Lokiwife? My heart burns for you, my body yearns for your touch. I beg of you, my Princess, take my hand in yours and say you will marry me.”
You smiled down at him and tears rose to your eyes as you nodded eagerly and cried out, “of course I will marry you!”
Loki stood and took you in his arms as he pressed a loving kiss to your temple, conjuring up an engagement ring before slipping it onto your finger. You pulled away from him to admire it as the illusion around the two of you faded, it was a simple silver band with an enchanting emerald shining in the centre. You turned to Loki to whisper about it but he just sealed your lips in a kiss and wouldn’t allow you to complain.
When you pulled away, your eyes lingered on his lips for a while longer before they wandered up to his eyes. Those dashing emeralds stared back at you as your breathing went back to normal and you smiled as you whispered, “you’re so perfect, Loki.”
“Jeg elsker deg,” Loki whispered as he held your hips, resting his chin on your shoulder as he began to sway with you.
“Jeg elsker deg også, min prins,” you whispered back before kissing him again.
The both of you remained in each other’s embrace for a while before you felt his hands withdraw and he stood in front of you. Curiously, you tilted your head and whispered, “what are you doing?”
“I wish to dance with the one that will be my wife,” Loki replied before taking your hands and settling them in the correct position before he began to waltz with you, uncaring of the fact that you were in jeans and a hoodie, he just loved seeing the smile that was slowly creeping onto your face.
The world faded away around the two of you as you danced, your eyes locked on his as he spun you around and hummed a tune that you’d heard at the ball all those months ago. It felt so magical, as if you were dancing in the Asgardian ballroom, watched by millions but alone together, it felt like you were the only couple in the world.
When the dance ended, you felt your heart beating wildly in your chest and you heaved a happy sigh before wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head in the crook of his neck.
“The wedding is in two days,” Loki whispered into your skin, breaking the peace of the moment between the both of you, “we have to return to Asgard tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” you whispered gently, pulling away to look into his eyes and you cupped his cheek when he nodded solemnly, “allow me to bring my family to the wedding early, they deserve that, they deserve to see Asgard before the events!”
Loki smiled at your suggestion and nodded, “very well, they will come back with us.”
~~
By the next morning, your family was all prepared to go to Asgard. Donna and Milly were dressed in their finest clothes, their hair pulled up after being washed and straightened three times. Your mother was, of course, fussing over her looks (“we’re going to Asgard, Y/N! I need to look my best!”). And your father was just a tad bit better at hiding his excitement - just don’t look at him, he’s crying but won’t admit it.
As the Bifrost opened around all of you and you appeared in Asgard’s observatory, you didn’t expect one figure to be standing amongst the group awaiting your arrival.
Loki certainly didn’t as he froze up and his expression hardened as he glared at the new figure.
King Laufey of Jötunheim was standing in the Observatory. There could only be one reason why.
A/N: This submission— my heart burst. Thank you. Kept it real short and sweet— turned out to be more of a drabble. so fluffy.
Opening my asks so I can practice writing more! If you have a request that you want done or have an idea you’re too lazy to write yourself, send it my way :p I prefer to write on Stephen Strange (any variant), but I am open to writing any Marvel character! Also open to writing on BBC!Sherlock. Willing to write almost anything and everything! Fluffy, angsty, smutty… go for it! Enjoy the read <3
Your eyes cracked open as you felt a shift in the mattress. Sunlight poured through the large window through the room and onto the comforter, painting the room in a warm morning haze. You immediately smiled to yourself seeing the broad, bare, muscular shoulders of your boyfriend perched on the side of the bed, one arm stretched upward to run his hand through his hair. You rolled over and wrapped your arms around his waist, placing a gentle kiss against his back.
“Good morning, Love.” Greeted a beautiful, gruff morning voice, “I’m sorry I woke you.”
“I’m not.” You disagree, “Pretty good view to wake up to as far as they go.” You gently ran your hand across his stomach and asked, “You want me to make breakfast?”
“Not too hungry right now.”
“When do you have to leave?”
“Not for another few hours. I’ll be at Kamar-Taj until tomorrow night. There’s something I need to look into… a spell. Think it’ll help with our defense over the sanctum. Well— sanctums, but…”
You frown to yourself, “You didn’t sleep well again, did you?”
“No, I didn’t.” He sighs
“I’m sorry, Steph.”
“That’s alright. You know how I am…”
“Restless?”
“Exactly.”
“Overachieving?”
“Admittedly.”
“Devastatingly handsome?”
“Well… if you insist.” He chuckles, “It’s Thursday… late classes tonight?”
“Won’t be back until nine.” You sigh heavily, “Content is fun for this week at least… the kids are engaged.”
“The fun never ends in Dr. Y/L/N’s class.” Stephen smiles
You snort, “I think more than a few of the students would beg to differ, but that’s very kind of you.”
“That’s only because they don’t realize they have the most amazing professor in the whole world.”
You shake your head and giggle, falling back into the mattress and asking, “Wanna come lay with me for a bit?”
Stephen obliged, rolling back over as you did and sinking beneath the sheets. You held your arms open and he immediately wiggled into them, settling his face in the crook of your neck. He liked laying in your arms. You would play with his hair and rub his back gently— dote on him in a way he’d never been doted on before. All the protection spells, wards, and charms in the world couldn’t compare to the safety he felt in your arms. You… the sweetest, tenderest person he’d ever had the great fortune of knowing. You were his solace. There was only love and comfort in your arms.
“Did you go to Kamar-Taj while I was asleep?” You ask suspiciously, getting a whiff of the distinct smell of patchouli and a strong herbal scent clinging to his hair
He pauses before admitting, “Yeah…”
“Baby, how are you supposed to sleep if you don’t even try?”
“I tried for an hour.” He whines
“That is not a good try.” You scold, “Clearly they need to do a better job of wearing you out during the day…”
“Or you could wear me out when I get home.” He smiles against your skin
“It is six in the morning, don’t start.” You giggle
“Mm… I’ll give you ’til eight.” He agrees, placing a few chaste kisses against your neck
You both lay in silence for a while, your arms wrapped protectively around his shoulders, his back rising and falling easily to match your own breathing pattern. He was fidgety, which usually meant he was nervous— though you couldn’t exactly say what had him so nervous for the time being. He rolled over suddenly and sat crisscrossed on the bed next to you. You gave him a funny look and he just responded by hauling you up by your arms and forcing you to sit facing him.
“Why?”
“Cause I have a story I wanna tell you.”
“You can’t tell me laying down?”
“Easier to tell you like this.”
You quirk a brow at him and shoot him a curious smile, but agree, “Okay…”
Stephen gently takes your hands in his own, resting your palms against his own and starting, “I was reading through one of the books from the Kamar-Taj library—“
“As you so often do.”
“Like you’re any better.”
You grin at him, “You’re right, continue.”
“Well, this one was about love spells and—“
“Who the hell are you trying to cast a love spell on?” You tease
Stephen gives you a soft smile and sighs, “Babe…”
“Sorry, sorry…” You mumble
“There was this preface to the book and the spells… they were created and perfected in China, which is where this myth originates from— but it’s been retold and changed a hundred times over now, you know how that goes.”
“Of course.” You nod
“Well… it was talking about this myth— this string of fate.”
Stephen places your right hand back in your lap carefully and holds your left hand up steady before drawing what should have been an invisible line in the air from your left pinky finger to his own. Of course, it wasn’t invisible with him. A thin string of his golden magic wound itself around your little finger, following his hand and wrapping itself around his own finger. You pull against it lightly and it has a particular tension, just like a real thread would.
“The thread connects two people who are destined to meet each other. The string keeps you tethered to this person no matter where you go or who you’re with. To your soulmate so to speak.”
You give a soft smile, “That’s very sweet.”
“It is… and it just had me thinking.”
“Oh?”
He nods and swallows hard, running his finger across the golden thread, “About us.”
“And what did you decide?”
“I never believed in soulmates or any of that stuff… not until I met you. And now… I just know that you’re at the other end of my thread. I haven’t questioned that since the day I found you, Love.” He smiles at you shyly, looking up at you through his lashes, “And I just… you know I’m no good at this— but I wanted to tell you how much I love you. I want you to know that.”
You gently cup his cheek, your heart melting at the sweet words. Stephen told you he loved you every chance he got, but for him to be making such a scene of it was unusual. You ran your thumb under his eyes gently, your brows knitting together in worry when you notice tears building in his waterline.
“Of course, I know that, Stephen. I love you just as much, you know?”
He nods, “Good. That’s good— great even. Best thing I’ve ever heard.” One of the tears falls from the corner of his eyes and you wipe it away, making him chuckle, “Wow, this is… a lot harder than I thought it’d be…”
You tilt your head at him, “What’s that, Dear?”
“Well, I got to thinking about our future.” He says, “I never want our string to get tangled again… never want to have to untangle it or—“ He chokes up a bit, “Or to see it severed.”
“Stephen…”
“Wait— I’m almost there.”
He smiles picking up your hand with the string around your pinky. He carefully pulls the little loop off your pinky and slides it onto your ring finger. It shifts form and you gasp as the most beautiful ring you could have ever imagined takes its’ place. You look up at Stephen with wide eyes, tears immediately gathering in your lash line. Was he—
“I want you to marry me, Y/N. I want to be yours forever.” He says steadily, a soft smile still on his lips, “I know we haven’t talked about it too much, but we’ve been together long enough that I th—“
You brought both hands to his face and crushed his lips against yours. Tears fell down your face and you could feel his own slipping between the cracks of your fingers and dampening your palms. He wrapped his arms around your back and pulled you into his lap, kissing you intently, deeply, memorizing the feeling of your lips against his. Just in case you said no or changed your mind… just in case it was the last time.
You pulled away, resting your forehead against his, and immediately replied, “Yes.”
“Yes?” He asked hopefully
“Of course, don’t act surprised!” You felt the tension leave his body, and watched his shoulders slump as he gave an audible sigh of relief, “Don’t tell me you thought I’d say no.”
Stephen hesitates before saying, “What I do is dangerous… I wouldn’t have blamed you if you thought— if you didn’t want to be collateral in what I do. Being my girlfriend— knowing you could walk away if things got to be too much—“
“I’m never walking away, Stephen.” You interrupt, “I am never leaving your side. I know who you are, I know what you do... I don’t care. I want to be here for all of it. I want to be yours forever.” You say sternly, “You’re mine.”
“I’m yours.” He agrees
You stare at each other for a moment before bursting into a fit of giggles, tears still rolling down both of your cheeks.
“We’re gonna get married!” You declare, the sentence making Stephen’s heart swell with pride and joy
He nods and grins back at you, pulling your hand from his face gently to look at the ring on your finger, “Then there will be two Doctor Strange’s.”
You wrinkle your nose, “No. There’s only one Doctor Strange.” You kiss his nose and quirk a smile at the gem in the center of your ring, “Besides… I like the sound of Mrs. Strange.”
He hums and presses his lips to yours once more, “I do too.”
Content: unrequited feelings, angst, Stephen pining over christine
A/N: I honestly would have left the first part as it is but an idea hit so here it is. Anyways, as I said, either Stephen suffers or you do.
Part one
Your steps were heavy, it had been an exhausting and hectic shift and yet, you still found yourself making your way to the rooftop. At this point, it’s more to disappoint yourself in hopes that you move on from Stephen. Opening the door to the rooftop, you walked in, smiling at the familiar breeze and cityscape you have come to know and appreciate. That was when your eyes fell onto his figure sitting on the bench, your eyes widening in surprise. Stephen’s shift had ended hours ago. You sucked in a breath, taking a few steps towards him.
“I was hoping to catch you here.” Stephen looked up to you with a smile, handing you a can of coke before taking a sip out of his coffee. You took the can of coke from him, it all felt so surreal, you were half expecting yourself to wake up and find out that you had fallen asleep on your work desk or something. Stephen raised his eyebrows at your frozen state, “I was feeling nice today.” He joked, thinking that your appalled expression was from the fact that he had prepared a drink for you, in hopes of finding you here. You sat down beside him, opening the can of coke with a hiss. “It’s been long since we talked, I missed it,” Stephen admitted, staring into the distance, feeling uncomfortable at your lack of words. “Shouldn’t you be home now? Your shift ended a few hours ago.” You asked, he pursed his lips. “You keeping track of me?” You shook your head, “Christine and I are working overtime for the research study.” He answered.
Of course, Christine.
“Don’t overwork yourself.” You reminded him. He smiled, “That’s why I’m here, decided to take a break. Christine suggested it too.” You grimaced at his mention of her. Stephen glanced at his watch, “Hey Valentine’s coming. You found anyone yet?” Stephen started, you snorted childishly at him. “I’m single Stephen.” Stephen rubbed his facial hair with his palm, trying to wipe the smile off his face at your tone. “There must be someone you’re into.” He emphasised on the ‘someone’. You looked at him, “What are you planning Stephen. Leave me alone.” You sighed, he stifled a laugh of his. “I just hope you find someone soon. You are awfully single.” He shrugged. “You’re one to talk Stephen, aren’t you single too?” You regretted the question the moment the words left your lips. “At least I had my fair share of relationships and romance, you on the other hand…you don’t even seem to be remotely attracted to anyone.” You smiled, at least that meant you were doing a fantastic job of concealing your feelings. Stephen leaned in closer to you, an action that made you gasp and your heart flutter. “So, is there someone?” He pursued. You looked at him, your face flushing a little. His eyes twinkled in delight, “I knew it! Do I know him?”
You could stare at his features, a soft smile on your face. “Well, he’s cocky and an annoying overachiever but he’s got the biggest heart, he pretends that matters don’t bother him when it does, he pushes himself and strives for excellence in everything he does. But you know something? He’s a coward who refuses to do anything that he isn’t sure he could be the best at and that applies to romance too, he makes me laugh despite having a reputation for being stoic and I’m comfortable around him.”
Stephen raised his eyebrows, giving you a judgemental look before looking away. “What?” You asked. “He sounds like a walking red flag but you do you.” You slapped him lightly on the shoulder, “You talk like you ain’t one.” He shot you an offended look, “Or maybe this guy is great and all. I forgot you tend to give compliments in the form of insults.” he said, laughing a little at the look on your face.
“So what’s his name?” Stephen questioned, he wanted to know who it was that you seemed to be head over heels for, judging from the lovesick look you had on your face when you described the guy. You looked into the distance, frowning slightly. “Shit, it’s raining. I gotta go before it gets worse.” You cursed, you didn’t have an umbrella with you. “It was nice talking to you again Stephen.” you smiled at him before running off. Stephen stood up too, his mind preoccupied with the man that you described as he strode back into his office where he was working on the research study with Christine.
Christine was already at her usual seat, pouring over some files and documents. Christine turned back to greet him. Stephen’s eyes fell onto the window that was being pelted with raindrops, the rain was getting heavier. His eyes then spotted the extra umbrella he had kept in his office.
“I’ll be back soon, just gonna go lend my umbrella to someone.” he said, leaving the office again with two umbrellas in hand while running through the halls of the hospital.
The sound of your name being called out in the rain almost missed you, you unplugged the earphones from your ears before turning around to find Stephen running up to you with an umbrella. “You’re drenched!” He pointed out. “I can see that Stephen.” You told him, he thrusted the extra umbrella into your hand. “What for? I’m already drenched Stephen.” He leaned further into you, trying his best to shelter the both of you from the rain. “Stop being stubborn and use it already.” He scolded. You sighed, glancing down before stepping away from him. You had to do it now, it was no use waiting for him everyday, you had to make the decision of what to do with your feelings towards him. He let out an annoyed huff as he tried to shelter you again, you took another step back, giving him back his umbrella.
“I don’t need it Stephen. Take it back.” He opened his mouth to argue, but you already stopped listening. The signs were clear, you were just a friend to him. Christine is the woman he goes to, listens to and smiles the most with. Whatever you felt towards him was how he felt towards Christine, it was like looking at a reflection whenever he interacted with Christine, it was like how you interacted with him. You bit on your lip, looking away as you felt the tears start to well up, if not for the rain, Stephen would have caught sight of your tears already. You looked at him again, a worried look on his face. You swallowed, you have made your decision.
“Thank you but I’ll deal with it. I’m already drenched, the umbrella is of no use.” You said again, smiling sadly at him. Stephen watched helplessly as you turned the corner while walking under the heavy rain, worried for you.
You wanted to be there for him so you’ll do it.
You’ll do it as a friend and for that to happen, these feelings for him had to be concealed until the end of time and its ok.
Love to Spare - Part 5 (Anthony Bridgerton x Reader; Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)
Anthony Bridgerton x Fem! Reader
Benedict Bridgerton x Fem! Reader
Fluffy, friendship, angsty feelings!
GIF by me
Word count: 2k
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Author's Note: Am I the terrible person that wrote Part 5 to be so long that I had to split it in half and now this will be 7 parts? Yes, I am that person. But it's all written - it's done. For real. 7 parts.
Summary: A season of suitors and a night at the opera.
You were an hour late in meeting Sir Edgar, having lost yourself in conversation with Benedict. You told him about your plans to teach and write and how they had been dashed by your family’s financial situation. He was sympathetic and supportive, his kind eyes sparkling as you spoke. When you asked him about his dreams in turn, he told you of his love for art, his penchant for sketching, and his hopes to distinguish himself with some kind of career. He was funny and inquisitive, listening so attentively that it was easy to open up to him despite barely knowing him. Where Anthony listened to you with all the insights of a clever colleague, Benedict seemed to listen with his whole heart.
Your subsequent conversation with Sir Edgar while strolling through the park was comparatively less stimulating. You spoke about your mutual acquaintances and the latest gossip of the ton, but neither of you turned inward to speak about yourselves in any meaningful way. You had the impression he was not the sort to even think to ask. Everything seemed very simple about him; simply pleasant, simply adequate, friendly and polite but lacking in passion. You convinced yourself that this could be a good quality in a husband. Someone who was quietly dependable, stable and calm, not prone to anger or jealousy or strong opinions.
Two days later you received a parcel containing a small note and scroll of canvas tied with a blue ribbon. The note read:
I’m sure your home is filled with bouquets from suitors, but here is something to enjoy once they all wilt.
It was unsigned. Unfurling the canvas, you saw it was an oil painting of blue hydrangeas, bursting with color. Lining one stem were small, squiggled initials, ‘BB’. You displayed it beside Sir Edgar’s bouquet of roses, which were already turning black and shriveled, and felt something odd in your stomach each day when you admired it. But you didn’t send any reply, or acknowledge the gift when you later saw Benedict. You didn’t want to entertain any advance he may have intended with it.
Over the next several weeks, your parade through the ton and its annual events continued. You were guided through balls and garden parties, concerts and promenades, steered by Anthony into the company of Sir Edgar whenever he was present. You danced and chatted with other gentlemen who showed interest. Three of them even called upon you at home and left trinkets of affection, but Sir Edgar remained the least objectionable. You surmised that there wasn’t much objection because there wasn’t much of anything really. When a man said so little, there was little to take issue with.
Always on the fringes of your outings were Anthony’s brothers, Benedict and Colin. As your acquaintance deepened, you found that despite their similar appearance, their personas were very distinct. If Anthony was strength, Benedict was beauty. He always found ways to inject moments of joy into boring affairs; sneaking you glasses of champagne, or pulling you away from Sir Edgar to show you a vivid painting around a corner, or introducing you to acquainted academics, writers, and artists. You noticed that Colin often preceded him, calling Anthony away on some urgent matter just before Benedict appeared. You followed along in good humor, laughing on the edges of ballrooms, joining the Bridgertons at their picnic spot in the park, and debating artistic license with Benedict at each gallery opening.
You consistently had to remind yourself that this was a friendship, just like the one you had with Anthony. But you couldn’t deny that each time you saw Benedict, something tugged within you, like a magnet within your chest pulling you in his direction. Try as you might to ignore such feelings, they could overwhelm you when your guard was down. Sometimes at night when you were falling asleep, hovering on the edge of consciousness, you would find yourself saying his name. You savored it on your tongue like a sweet you had stolen just for yourself to enjoy. Then in the morning you would chastise yourself, reminding yourself of all Sir Edgar’s good qualities and how he met your and Anthony’s criteria for a practical choice of husband.
Things progressed this way through the first half of the season. You knew matters with Sir Edgar were escalating when he insisted on holding your hand throughout an entire performance at the opera. It was the greatest affection he had yet shown and though perhaps a bit awkward, you supposed it was sweet in its own way. But you were distracted by the fact that the singer on stage was Anthony’s paramour, and you had a clear view of him in his family’s box above, looking as if he wanted to eat her alive. Whether that was passion or anger you couldn’t be sure, they were so entangled with those two. Just before the show ended, you saw him slip out of the box and disappear.
When crowds began to mingle in the foyer, Sir Edgar gave you a wide smile and stepped away to speak with your mother. You knew, without a doubt, that a proposal was imminent. Even though this was the intended outcome of your courtship, you suddenly felt yourself gripped with nerves. You wanted to speak with Anthony while your mother and suitor were planning your future nearby. His reassurance would put you at ease. You began to search for him in the hallways leading back toward the stage.
You heard Anthony before you saw him, one of three shouting voices echoing around a corner. Turning, you saw that he and the singer were yelling at each other over the shoulders of a large stagehand positioned between the two of them like a wall. The giant of a man was barking at Anthony to leave and looked about ready to trounce him. You felt certain that your presence was the only thing that stopped him because once the group saw you, they fell quiet. With a snarl, Anthony turned on his heel and began marching back toward you, nostrils flaring as he heaved with anger.
“Anthony,” you chased after him.
“Not now, dammit!” He snapped. You both rounded the corner into an empty hall and he paused, looking at you with remorse though he was still panting with frustration. “I’m sorry.” His voice was anguished. “Y/f/n, I’m sorry.”
He was in no state to counsel you about your engagement, that was clear. You hated seeing him like this. You hated that his dalliance caused such maelstroms of emotions within him. But you had grown used to these moods, and you knew how to treat them.
“Anthony,” You placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Take a breath and take yourself home. And don’t open a bottle until you get there.”
Exhaling heavily, he nodded in gratitude. “Will you come and join me, once you leave here?”
Almost reflexively you said yes, but stopped yourself. The consequences of being seen alone with him at his home were significantly greater now that you could no longer be dismissed as just his solicitor’s daughter. You were a lady in society, and you had a serious suitor no less. A suitor who was waiting for you in the next room. You just then began to consider the impact your marriage would have upon your friendship with Anthony. Your meetings for brandy and banter would have to decrease if not stop altogether, as your time would be devoted to your husband. You didn’t know how you could continue to seek the comfort from each other that had become so reliable over the years. Now you felt even more conflicted about a proposal, a layer of sadness added to your nerves.
“I don’t know that it would be appropriate now, my lord.” You said sadly, reminding him of your stations. “I am spending the evening with Sir Edgar.”
He looked up at you, all of the same realizations clearly sinking in as his eyes grew somber. He nodded tightly. “Of course.”
“I will see you at tomorrow’s ball. Please take care of yourself.” You released him with a weak smile. His eyes full of pain, he returned a small bow, then walked briskly to a side door.
You wanted to stay with him. To try to convince him, once again, to find a new mistress and leave the drama of the opera singer behind, even knowing he wouldn’t do it. But your own love life and future were taking precedence that night. You each had your own feelings to sort, and could not do so together. You knew you’d have the opportunity to speak with him the next day.
Crossing the foyer back to your mother, Benedict suddenly emerged beside you.
“Miss y/l/n! Have you seen my brother? Our mother is looking for him and naturally I am the one dispatched to retrieve him.” He flashed his tireless smirk.
You fought the little jolt within that you felt every time you saw him. “He has left for the night. I believe you’ll find him at his apartments.”
He frowned as he read your expression. “Is something wrong?”
You knew he was asking about Anthony, but you wanted to divulge all of your own feelings. You knew he would have listened. But with him being part of the reason you felt so odd about an impending engagement, you couldn’t say anything. “It’s not for me to say. But you should go to him.” If you could not be with Anthony, at least he could. “Be gentle with him, Mr. Bridgerton. Brandy and indirect questions should do the trick.”
His brows arched playfully. “Ah, you know the formula.” His grin brought one to your lips too. Then his face screwed up with confusion. “Wait, does that mean you visit him at his apartments?”
“Sometimes. Perhaps not anymore.” You sighed. “Why do you ask?”
His eyes grew intense, deeper somehow. “It’s just…I can’t believe our paths haven’t crossed before now. Or that he never said anything about you.” He was looking at you as if you were a precious artifact, something to marvel at. It rooted you to the spot, something buzzing down your spine. He stepped closer, and you looked up to hold his gaze as he towered over you.
“Remarkable.” He whispered, so close that you could feel his breath on your skin. Then he murmured, almost as if to himself, “Can’t believe it’s taken so long…”
It was the warmth of his fingertips brushing yours that snapped you out of the spell and you all but jumped. “I must go.” You squeaked, then marched into the nearest cluster of people without a look back.
You barely managed to catch your breath by the time you rejoined your mother and Sir Edgar. Your suitor smiled at you knowingly for the rest of the evening as you mingled with the theatergoers and slowly made your way home, walking under the lamplight. He deposited you at your doorstep and dropped a kiss on your hand before taking his leave. Your mother, eyes full of both hope and relief, confided that he had indeed declared his intentions to propose to you at the next night’s ball.
It was settled then. In one day’s time, you would have a fiance, and your family’s future would be secure. You should have felt happy. You should have felt relieved. But all you could think about that night were Anthony and Benedict's eyes. Anthony’s so full of sorrow, a sorrow your marriage wouldn’t let you soothe any longer; and Benedict’s, glittering with some odd fascination. Surely you were reading too much into it with your silly infatuated emotions. You were an overeducated, undersocialized, secret friend of his brother and that made you an anomaly. It was time to stop thinking about him altogether. It was time to start distancing yourself from the Bridgerton brothers. You needed to prepare for the next chapter of your life as Lady Graham. That night, you stowed away the painting of the blue hydrangeas.
Reader: fem, Laurel’s daughter, not so villain(ish) anymore
Summary: The master-Hyde bond is stronger than ever now that Tyler has retreated into his rage to escape the pain of your supposed betrayal. Wednesday has a vision that might change things... if he were to believe her.
Warnings: canon-typical dark themes, reader gets drugged and locked up in a basement, some violence and wounds, angsssst
Word count: 2.6K
Note: This chapter turned out pretty long, so I’ve decided to split it in two and post the second part soon. I’m really excited to share it! Until then, hope you guys like this one🤍
❗Links to the other parts of this series are in my pinned post (if I attach them here the post won’t show up in the tags)
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The days after you left, Tyler tried not to feel too much. And for the most part, it almost worked.
He found it easier to pretend, now that he didn’t really have much else to care about. Laurel didn’t need him to kill anyone else at the moment, so he channeled all those unsavory feelings on which the Hyde seemed to thrive into making his smile extra sweet, his words even more well-chosen. ‘Legally Blonde’ had been a masterstroke of emotional misdirection on his part - at least when it came to a movie date with Wednesday Addams. She would have let him kiss her right then and there, if it hadn’t been for his father interrupting.
He didn’t remember much about killing Dr. Kinbott - only that the Hyde had delighted in her screams. He’d told her about you once, back when Laurel hadn’t turned him yet. I met someone, he’d said. She just moved into town. First time at the Weathervane. I don’t know much about her, but… I kinda hope I’ll see her again. Stupid, I know,” he’d added with a self-deprecating chuckle. He’d been feeling so disconnected from the people around him, he wasn’t sure what made him think you might be the one to change that. Kinbott had immediately disagreed, saying that it was good for him to open up to new people and experiences. That he needed connection in his life, now more than ever, and he shouldn’t deny himself that opportunity.
Eventually, he really had stopped denying himself, even despite his master’s orders. He’d let his guard down and opened up so completely, he’d almost forgotten how to close himself back up once the whole thing had ended in another soul-crushing disappointment.
But the Hyde knew exactly what to do. It roared and slashed and relished the warmth of Kinbott’s blood on its thick skin, thick enough that the memory of what you’d done to him couldn’t crawl back in.
When Xavier got arrested, Tyler knew he’d gotten away with all of it. The Blood Moon was close, his mission was pretty much over. You’d once told him that your mother planned to kill him once he was no longer useful, but that wouldn’t be the first lie you told him. The Hyde was too good a servant to be disposed of, it prided itself on it.
So, he kept up the pretense when Wednesday walked into the Weathervane, like you’d done the last time he’d seen you.
Do you have any idea how badly I want to kiss you right now?
He would have done it just like he was returning Wednesday’s kiss - gently, with a barely contained sense of urgency. Then again, it was probably for the best that he hadn’t. At least this time, he was the one doing the deceiving. He never wanted to be on the other end of that again.
But then Wednesday had the vision of him as the Hyde, and she didn’t treat him much better than you had once you decided a monster wasn’t, after all, what you envisioned for your future. To be perfectly honest, though, he preferred the physical pain - that at least ended the moment Wednesday pulled the tasers away from his neck. He could’ve pulled through all that, and maybe even a few hammers to the knees, begging and crying that he was innocent, never once giving himself away.
Not yet, he thought with the Hyde’s cunningness, not yet.
He let Wednesday look a lunatic with a penchant for kidnapping and torture first. And only after, when she had been discredited in the eyes of his father and Principal Weems once and for all, did he get her alone at the police station and gave voice to all the darkest corners of his mind.
“You have no idea what’s coming,” he whispered in the shivering girl’s ear - like he would have told himself if he could go back in time, to when he’d tucked that damned train ticket into his pocket like it was the most precious thing in his life.
He wasn’t sure whether the tear that effortlessly escaped his eye afterward was the reflex of a masterful actor, or a moment of unwanted honesty. He had a feeling you might be able to help him figure it out.
But you weren’t there.
So he made himself forget he’d ever wanted to ask you.
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Laurel knew her plants well - better than she knew you, apparently. She knew exactly how the chemicals she extracted from them worked, the precise dosage needed for her desired effect.
So, every time you woke up, she was there. Like clockwork.
That must have been every few hours, but you couldn’t be sure. Sometimes, light came down through the hatch she left open while she was down there with you. Others, she needed a flashlight to see in the dark basement. Whatever the case, her soothing voice always greeted you as you drifted back to consciousness.
There you go. It’s alright.
Well, she meant for it to be soothing. You felt anything but as she methodically untied your hands from the metal ring in the wall. Ironic, since Crackstone had meant it for the very group of people she would have you hate. You’d seen the old pilgrim meeting house before, and the basement Goody Addams had sneaked into in order to escape death - it made sense that Laurel would bring you there. The Gates mansion was out of the question, since Tyler had free access to it.
The first time you’d came to, you’d been too weak to do much else other than rub some feeling back into your stiff wrists. Still, the second you gathered your bearing enough to realize just what Laurel had done, you immediately attempted to shoot up to your feet and sprint away. Not one second later, your legs buckled beneath you, and you were falling right back into your mother’s supposedly loving arms.
“Easy, honey. No need for all of that,” she cooed, setting you back down so you were propped up against the wall. “It’s just until the Blood Moon, sweetie. I’ll finish what we - yes, we - started, get rid of the Hyde… and then you and I are gonna go right back to normal. Just the two of us. In the meantime, I’ll take care of you… like I always have.”
To her credit, if you could even call it that, she never did leave you to wake up alone in the dark. She saw to your minimal needs, and carefully administered the next precise dosage before leaving. The rope was just a precaution, in the very unlikely case that you happened to wake up early or she had some unexpected delay.
“You’re in danger, mom,” you once half-warned, half-threatened, voice still hoarse even after she’d helped you take a sip of much-needed water. “Tyler is not gonna let you do this to me, master or not. And he knows you’re planning to kill him. I told him.”
“I’m sure you did. But, you see, I doubt he believes much of anything you said to him right now. I wouldn’t trust someone who broke up with me over text, either.”
You blinked with heavy lids, shaking your head. “I didn’t… No,” you breathed out when you realized what she’d done. What else she had done to him.
Laurel nodded with a fake sympathetic smile. “I’d be worried, too, if he knew where you were. But as things stand, the poor boy is convinced you ran off into the sunset without… how did I phrase it… something about his ‘condition’ holding you back from your new life. Anyway, once I removed the… distraction, he became very obedient.”
Just like that, your last shred of hope crumbled.
He didn’t know. Not only that, but he thought you had done the one thing you’d said you wouldn’t - change your mind about him. He was alone again. And all the more vulnerable to the master-Hyde bond because of it, just like he had been in the beginning.
He doesn’t know.
You wanted to scream, or at least sob, but were too weak for it.
“Shh,” your mother cooed, carefully loading the syringe with just the right amount of substance from her vial. “It’s for the best, sweetie, you’ll see. Mother always knows best.”
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Tyler was waiting at the station. Again.
This time, for Wednesday, at his master’s order. And this time, when the girl he’d been waiting to see didn’t show up and Laurel left him a short text summoning him back to her, there was a little trickle of relief that he didn’t care to acknowledge.
You’d run away from all of this - the Blood Moon, and Crackstone, everything your mother had planned for Wednesday and the school. You’d be happy to know that she’d gotten away before Tyler could be forced to drag her to Laurel.
You hadn’t cared enough to take him with you, though, so why should he?
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A few minutes before Tyler left the station empty-handed, Wednesday was watching Weems give her last breath.
It had all happened so fast. One moment, Wednesday was standing in the greenhouse, internally gloating at finally having the truth confirmed by the Hyde’s master herself. The next, she was leaning over the principal’s lifeless body. Laurel’s injection had taken all but ten seconds to achieve its lethal effect.
Laurel, not Miss Thornhill, like it had taken Wednesday embarrassingly long to realize. It took her no time to figure out what had killed Weems, though.
“Nightshade poisoning,” she breathed out, eyes wide in shock even as the clinical part of her mind assessed the signs.
“A fitting end, don’t you think?” Laurel taunted.
Wednesday would have spat back that it would also be a fitting end for Laurel herself, but her analytical eye caught something else before that - just a few inches away from Weems’s head, a necklace with a rose-shaped pendant lay abandoned on the floor. Through the Raven’s lens, Wednesday could practically see the sorrow oozing off the unfamiliar object, drawing in that innately tenebrous part of her. She touched it, and her head flew back as she was shown why.
The greenhouse. You and Laurel. Flashes of shocked, hurt, violent words.
“You raised me to be spiteful over things that happened before I was even born, to people I’ve never met!” Softer. “We can make a different life, together.”
“Who’s ‘we’, sweetie? You, me and the monster you have some demented crush on?”
“I’m not gonna let you hurt him.”
“The Crackstone thing, I very much want to do. This... not so much.”
A sharp sting to the neck. Pain, betrayal, fear. Darkness.
The station. Five fifteen.
The open sky above. Old ruins, screaming with the sins of the past etched into their wooden boards.
The old pilgrim meeting house.
The hatch closes. Underground. Dark again.
He doesn’t know.
“Welcome back,” Laurel mocked once the vision ended. Wednesday glared at her. Just as soon as she did, blinding pain shot through her skull, and she was plunged into her own unwilling sleep.
Laurel smiled cruelly, leaning on the blood-stained shovel. “And bye again.”
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For the first time since your mother had taken you hostage, you woke up alone.
However much you had grown you resent the sight of her, you had to begrudgingly admit that having the dark as your sole companion wasn’t much better. Her absence, sadly, did nothing to help you. Your hands were still securely tied to the wall, and even if the rope were weak enough to maybe come undone if you pulled on it hard enough, you doubted you could muster the strength to make that happen any time soon. She’d never let you stay awake long enough for the effects of her chemicals to completely wear off.
You had no idea how much time had passed since she’d brought you there, or why it was that she hadn’t showed up this time. But you began to suspect something as your eyes somewhat adjusted to the darkness, and you noticed the faint trickles of light sneaking in through the woodboards above - they were reddish.
The Blood Moon.
Of course she wasn’t there - this was the night she’d been waiting for your entire life. She would - or perhaps already had - kill Wednesday Addams, raise Crackstone from the dead, have him destroy Nevermore and everyone in it… then dispose of Tyler.
And there was nothing you could do about any of it. Or anyone to hear you crying in the dark.
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In truth, Laurel had meant to visit you one last time before she raised Crackstone, and then release you the morning after, when the deed was done. Wednesday’s little stunt with Weems, however, had forced a slight change in her carefully laid-out plan.
Tyler, on the other hand, didn’t know any of that. As far as he was concerned, Laurel’s plan was unfolding exactly the way it was supposed to - with Wednesday hanging limp from her chains in Crackstone’s Crypt, just barely regaining her consciousness under his stone cold gaze.
Funny how the tables turned.
“Kind of a deja vu thing we got going on here, huh?”
Wednesday was as unfazed as ever. “Yes. Except I won’t cry and whine like a child.”
“Tyler,” Laurel called from beside the tomb. “Go wait by the boat.”
He was about to. Wednesday could tell, from the forced calm replacing whatever ire he felt towards her. As much as she hated to admit it, she was at a complete disadvantage. She couldn’t escape her shackles from this angle, her head was throbbing where the shovel had hit her skull, and Tyler was no more than a tool in his master’s hands.
Except when it came to you, apparently.
The vision she’d had just before passing out. She remembered what you’d been planning to do with him, and why you never got to. All your desperate thoughts, as clear in her head as if they’d been her own.
He doesn’t know.
Well, it was time he found out.
“Yes. Listen to your master and be a good little Hyde,” Wednesday spat out. She waited for the right moment when he was just about to pettily shoulder-bump her, then added, “Unless you wanna end up like y/n.”
She heard his breathing stop. How satisfying. She had even earned Laurel’s sudden, piercing glare.
Tyler froze in place. Your name alone was enough to make his blood boil, but what Wednesday was saying… He looked at her with what was supposed to be an angry expression, but which ended up carelessly betraying confusion, curiosity… hurt.
Wednesday almost smiled.
“What, you didn’t know?” she taunted. She’d hit a nerve, and she was determined to keep hitting it. “She drugged and kidnapped her own daughter the moment she found out about your little romantic getaway. I wonder what she’ll do to you if you screw up again.”
Lies, the thought sprang up in Tyler’s mind instinctively. You were gone. Left, of your own accord. Laurel said-
“How would you know?” he found himself asking anyway.
“Tyler,” Laurel warned.
“How’d I know you were the Hyde, genius? I had a vision.”
“You’re lying.”
“Tyler!”
“‘Five fifteen’ sound familiar?” Wednesday raised a knowing eyebrow. Tyler’s eyes widened as the two words all but short-circuited his mind.
“What part of go don’t you get, Tyler?” Laurel barked. She was suddenly by his side, yanking him away from Wednesday by the arm. No more words of endearment, sugar-coated poison. One look in her scornful eyes and the Hyde cowered before its master.
Tyler did as he was told, but could barely feel himself putting one foot in front of the other. He’d heard Wednesday loud and clear. How could she know? How could she know-?
By the time he shut the Crypt doors behind him, his heart was pounding so loudly he could barely hear his own thoughts. But they all said one thing.
He’d believed yet another lie.
Like I said, the next part will be posted very soon, and it’s gonna be an emotional rollercoaster. Until then, I’d love to hear your thoughts🤍
If anyone would like to be tagged, let me know in a comment (I do taglists in a reblog for technical reasons).
Summary: Lady (Name) Granville, daughter and only heir of Duke Granville just arrived back for this season from her tour in Europe. However, she came back to London with a secret.
Word count: 990
The night was cold as you made your way into the opera in London. Your cloak hiding your masked face as you slipped past noble people who arrived for the show tonight. The back entrance was unattended but everyone knew you there as Lena Smith. You hurried down the hallway into the changing room that was assigned to you just to see Siena sit by the dressing table, fixing her hair.
She was beautiful but somehow you always saw how sad she was on the inside. It has only been a month since you arrived back secretly to London, trying to avoid your family until the official date of your arrival. Since you met Siena, you tried to subtly observe her, not only because she was so talented but because she was so professional. You wanted to learn as much as you could from her.
“Lena, I was worried you wouldn’t show up.” she said with a small smile as she stood from her seat.
“I got a little delayed by… traffic.” you lied. It was truly traffic that slowed you down but you rather tried to avoid anyone catching a glimpse of you than getting stuck with a carriage. If anyone from the ton would notice you or recognize you here… you had no idea if you would be able to handle all the criticism or judgemental looks. You had no real family with you anymore, you couldn’t lean on your mother’s shoulder, turn to her for advice nor could you ask your father for his opinion.
“Everything alright?” Siena furrowed her eyebrows. “You always wear your mask even if we are not yet playing.”
“I… I told you why…” you averted your gaze from hers.
“Even if you have a scar, you are still beautiful, Lena.” she shook her head then went to the door. “Let’s get started! We have a full house tonight!”
Your heart started thumping in your chest with excitement. A full house?! So many people came just to see the new attraction which was you. Changing into your costume, you went to the back stage, nervousness mixed with giddiness. It was like you were a child again, waiting for the present on Christmas morning.
Once it was time for you to perform, you walked out on stage, your focus trained on your role and completely in character. There was no you on that stage, it was the character of the story.
Anthony’s PoV.
Lord Bridgerton felt rather annoyed with his mother insisting on going to the opera. His heart was still freshly wounded by the rejection from Siena and he was unsure if he was capable of sitting through a show, watching Siena perform all night. To his surprise, Siena only had a smaller role. Tonight’s show was focused on someone else. Someone new.
Her voice was mesmerizing, caressing his ears as she sang. The Viscount grew curious about her face when he realized that she wore a mask. He didn’t really pay attention to the show before her voice filled the large room so when he raised his head and laid eyes on her form, noticed the white mask. The story was about a woman joining the army, dressed in men’s clothing and hiding her identity to replace her father but she is revealed in the end by the kingdom’s prince who fell in love with her. The prince felt ashamed of falling in love with a man until he realized that it was a woman he loved. However, they are killed by the enemy before they could confess their feelings for each other and the kingdom falls victim to the enemy.
The fighting scenes and the dramatic ones made his heart thump in his chest with excitement or empathy. Anthony was only sure about one thing though: he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.
“Anthony? Anthony!” Eloise shook him violently, making him jump in surprise. At his confused expression, his sister broke out in a fit of laughter. “The show is over, we have to go home.”
“What?”
The Viscount turned his head back to the stage where the curtains were already closed and the audience was slowly filtering out of the theatre. He stood and went downstairs with his family, barely registering what his mother was saying. This strange fascination with opera singers couldn’t leave him, could it? He felt ridiculous as he thought about this. He needed to find a suitable wife, needed to take responsibility, not chase some opera singer who would want nothing to do with him in the end.
As they walked out of the theatre and he waited for his mother and sister to board the carriage first, he noticed movement to the side. Turning his head, he noticed the masked singer and his eyes widened. The mask was no longer obscuring her beautiful face but was hanging in her hand as she hurried away, pulling a large cloak over her head.
(Name) Granville.
The singer was (Name) Granville, daughter of Duke Granville. Anthony only remembered her because he saw her mother receiving a small portrait of the young lady as an offer from the Duke a few years ago. It was a marriage proposal but not as serious as an actual proposal. The Duke was only mapping out the possibilities of a future marriage for his daughter.
Back then, Anthony paid little attention to the small painting, outright refusing to accept anything his mother arranged. Now, he couldn’t take his eyes off the spot where she stood a few minutes ago. Benedict shook him to gain his attention, a small smirk playing on his brother’s face.
“Are you really so obsessed with this place, brother?”
“Let’s get going.”
Benedict only shook his head and laughed. The whole ride back home went in a daze, his mind filled with questions and thoughts but mostly, it was occupied with the mysterious Lady Granville.
To be continued…
A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed and will be following the story in the future!
Phantom of the Opera (Anthony Bridgerton x Reader) Chapter Five
Summary: Lady (Name) Granville, daughter and only heir of Duke Granville just arrived back for this season from her tour in Europe. However, she came back to London with a secret. And it seems Anthony Bridgerton just found out that secret.
Word count: 2002
Warnings: fluff, romance, angst
Previous Chapter - Next Chapter
Anthony’s PoV.
The weather in London turned cold during the last few days and that meant nights grew even colder. Anthony should’ve switched his coat to a warmer one but with his mind filled with thoughts about Lady Granville, he forgot to do so. The Viscount sneezed as quietly as possible while standing in the shadows of his family’s box in the theatre. His eyes couldn’t leave her form as she was singing on the stage, all lights on her.
Anthony never really thought he would be so drawn to the opera but somehow it seemed he was meant to long after one of the singers be it Siena or Lady Granville. He watched her end her scene with a heavy heart before the curtains closed and the audience applauded her. He could see the glint in her eyes even from so far away, under that mask, her eyes were shining with happiness which made his chest tighten. Before he knew her, Anthony only thought it was a hobby for her but seeing her perform night after night, he knew it was a passion.
The play came to an end but Anthony didn’t wait for the applause to die down. He stepped out of the box and was about to leave the theatre when his eyes met fiery brown ones.
“I thought I was clear when I sent you away.” Siena spoke. The applause was still thundering as a storm as the two of them seemed to be stuck in time, staring at each other. Anthony swallowed and averted his gaze.
“You were.” he said softly. “I am not here to bother you.”
“You’re here for her.”
His heart skipped a beat both in shock and pain at the way hurt mixed with dejection in her voice. Did she still have a lingering fondness for him? Or was it just the miss of something she was used to? He shook his head in hope these thoughts would leave him.
“Yes.”
It was surprising to hear his own voice sound so sure.
“She is risking a scandal, please stop it before it is too late.” Siena sighed and left him in the storm of the satisfied audience.
As Anthony made his way home, he kept thinking about what Siena said. Siena always held the theatre close to her heart and he knew she had a reason to be afraid of a scandal. If people stopped coming to watch opera, her everyday income would be at risk. But Lady Granville was just as enamoured with opera as Siena was. Her beautiful face lit up whenever she spotted the theatre and her performance was executed so well that it left others in the shadows.
For days, Anthony kept thinking about Lady Granville and when the invitation came from Lord Drummond for the upcoming wild game hunting he was organising for his fiftieth birthday, he finally had the best opportunity to have some time to talk to her.
Your PoV.
The weather seemed to be warmer compared to usual. It should’ve been colder but you could wear a short sleeved dress that day. You never particularly liked these wild game hunts but it was fun to laugh at the men trying to reassure each other about their masculinity. You looked over all the gentlemen, preparing for the hunt as you sat with Daphne and Eloise Bridgerton. The three of you were playing some card game when the Duke of Hastings approached you. He put a gentle hand on his wife’s shoulder, his lips pulled into a small smile.
“Are you enjoying the afternoon?” he asked.
“Yes, dear.” Daphne touched his hand on her shoulder as she turned back to him. “However, I am not so sure that Anthony is enjoying it as well.”
“He keeps complaining about everything.” Simon rolled his eyes then they landed on your form. “I bet it is only because Lady Granville chose to dance with everyone else but him.”
“A lady has to be careful, my lord.” you smiled wryly. “Once a rake, always a rake.”
“As Anthony would put it, ‘reformed’ rake.” Simon chuckled then said his goodbyes and left with the rest of the men. You couldn’t help but search for Anthony in the crowd. It was easier though than you thought it would be. His eyes immediately locked with yours, his gaze burning through your skull.
“It seems Lady Granville you’re not as careful as you said a lady should be.” Daphne quipped. “Even though you do not trust my brother, I can reassure you that Anthony is not as bad as he seems.”
“Maybe-”
“Excuse me, Duchess Granville, Duchess Basset, Miss Bridgerton, it seems I have arrived late to join in on the hunting. May I join you with my mother and sister?”
The man who approached you from behind had a deep silky voice, it almost felt like your ears were caressed by soft velvet. You turned your attention to the man who cast a shadow over your sitting form. His light brown hair was cut short, a few strands poking out from under his hat. His shoulders were wide but you were certain that the cut of his coat was helping with it a little. What shocked you was how tall he was. His legs seemed to stretch for miles.
Behind him, a small, petite girl stood around the age of Francesca. Her almost white blonde hair was pulled up in a bun, her dress had a shocking amount of ruffles. She looked a little bit scared like she never attended a social gathering. Their mother who was holding her hand was a frail middle aged lady with darker blonde hair and a few wrinkles. Her blue eyes were almost grey and her lips pulled into a small, polite smile.
“May we ask your name, my lord?” Daphne spoke up. She seemed to shift to a wife and mother when she needed to show her authority.
“Ah, forgive me for my bluntness!” the man smiled before taking off his hat and bowing a little. “My name is Vincent de Trafford. After my father died I had to return to England from overseas, unfortunately, this occasion was the first I could attend.”
“It is nice meeting you and your family, my lord.” Daphne smiled politely but she seemed to be uneasy as she looked back at him. You watched her frozen movements and strained smile as she let him kiss her knuckles. “Ladies, let us make some room for our new guests.”
You and Eloise stood and moved your chairs a little so the three newcomers could join. Daphne was about to move over to your side so the three of you would face the three of them but Lord Trafford was quicker and already stepped to your side with a charming smile plastered on his handsome face.
“May I sit by your side, your grace?” he asked. Your eyes widened at the direct approach but it would’ve been rude to say no. You felt all the others’ gazes on your form so you pulled up a small smile on your face and nodded.
“Of course, my lord.”
At first the conversation was quite awkward but you soon found yourself in a deep conversation with the lord. Daphne tried to quip in here and there but the lord kept turning back the attention on you. You only noticed that the hunt was over when the Bridgerton brothers approached your table.
“Lady Granville it would be an honour if-”
“It is an honour to even talk to her grace, Lord…?” Anthony spoke up behind you, making you jump.
Lord Trafford looked up with a cold smile on his face before he stood to his feet and stretched out a hand to Anthony. The air seemed to freeze, everyone around you held their breath.
“Lord Bridgerton I assume.” Trafford said with a sickly sweet voice. “I have heard about you quite a lot already. Let me introduce myself, Vincent de Trafford, nice to finally meet you.”
“I cannot say the same, Lord Trafford. I haven’t heard about you at all.” Anthony glared back at the man. You watched silently as they clenched each other’s hand in a death grip while they were still shaking hands.
“Ah, there you are, my dear!” Lady Danbury spoke up suddenly with a strange cheerfulness. “Come with me for a second!”
With that, she grabbed you and pulled you out of that little circle. You walked on her side silently for a while until you two were out of earshot. Once you were all alone, she stopped and turned to you with a serious expression.
“(Name), I do not approve of Lord Trafford’s advances on you.” she said. “Believe me when I say that you should not trust him.”
“I didn’t mean to be so close with him. It just happened and-”
“Because he made it happen. That man is dangerous, stay away from him.” she shook her head before glancing back at the guests.
“Why do you think that, Lady Danbury?” you frowned. Was this man really dangerous? Couldn’t it be that he just wanted to fit in? Lord Trafford was handsome and was easy to talk to. He seemed to be genuinely interested in you. Maybe he was just a little misunderstood.
“I am way too old to not know when someone is not who they seem to be.” Lady Danbury replied then sighed. “Let’s get back to the party, they will be suspicious if we stay away for too long.”
“Haha, you still hate the way people like to gossip.” you chuckled lightly as you followed her back to the crowd.
Later ~
Lord Drummond was a generous host; it was clear from all the exquisite dishes and exotic fruits brought to the table by the staff. You sat on Lady Danbury’s side the whole time at the dining hall and tried to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes, especially two gazes following your every move. You sipped on your wine with trembling fingers holding onto the glass tightly when Lord Bridgerton seemed to have lost his patience and leaned forward across from you to your right.
“Lady Granville, I’m glad you could join us today. It was strange not seeing you at the latest ball.” Anthony spoke. You lifted your gaze at him and you knew you just made a mistake when your heart seemed to skip a beat at the sight. You haven’t seen him this close since you told him to stay away from you last time. It has been a month if you were correct but it felt way longer than that. Anthony’s brown eyes were boring into yours as he kept his gaze locked with yours, his lips pulled into a satisfied smile at successfully gaining your attention.
“I am allowed to fall ill sometimes, am I not?” you smiled politely. “Lord Bridgerton, was the hunting successful? Have you caught anything?”
“Only a pheasant but I have to admit I was not as enthusiastic about it as others.”
You lifted an inquiring eyebrow, prompting him to continue.
“Sometimes we have the mood to play and sometimes we don’t.” he shrugged. “This time my mind was elsewhere.”
“You sound like you want to be asked where your mind was, Lord Bridgerton.” Lady Danbury quipped mischievously. Her eyes shimmered with a knowing look as she averted her gaze back to her plate and put a small piece of meat in her mouth.
“At the right time, from the right person, Lady Danbury.” Anthony smiled confidently at you then turned to another lord and started a conversation about some financials. You shot glances at him throughout the night, trying to figure out what was going on with not only him but you. Why couldn’t you move on? Why couldn’t you get him out of your mind? Why was it so easy for him to fill your heart and mind after only just a look, a smile, a word?
So could you do a, Xavier x fem!reader , where she's Wednesday's cousin and has a crush on Xavier. When Wednesday goes to Xaviers shed and thing pushes the blanket from over the painting, could it be a painting of the reader, and Wednesday thinks its creepy and she tells reader and you can decide how it ends. (idk if that made scenes but I thought it would cute.)
picture of you
summary | after discovering a picture of you, wednesday can't keep her mouth shut
pairing | xavier thorpe x fem!addams!reader
warning | fluff, friends to lovers, xavier has a crushhhh,
word count | 1.3k
Wednesday couldn’t hold a single ounce of love to anyone, except her cousin, and you really couldn’t call it love. The two of you grew up together with your father constantly on the run, staying with your aunt and uncle and cousins most of your life.
You were the blunt end of Wednesday’s emotions, trying to make up for her lack of.
Unlike your cousin, you were excited to start at Nevermore. Since you were little, your aunt would tell you the stories of her time there hoping that one day you and Wednesday would attend. While you basked in her stories, Wednesday just rolled her eyes at her mother, sick of hearing about her marvelous time at Nevermore.
Standing next to Enid as she showed the two of you around, Ophelia Hall did not have enough room, leaving the three of you together as roommates.
Starting to think in your head, Enid’s voice had drowned out as you scanned over the quad before your eyes stopped to stare.
Turning, Xavier saw you looking at him, giving you a little half smile before turning back to his painting which was ravens, you think.
The rest of your day at Nevermore wasn’t much, taking your own route while Wednesday took hers but you didn’t expect to be sitting in the infirmary already.
Sitting on the other side of her bed, both you and Xavier watched her quietly. He was the one to find you after bringing Wednesday to the nurse, explaining about what happened.
“Thank you again, the two of you are even now.” You smiled softly.
Xavier looked up at you, his eyes slightly wide, “You aren’t talking about my-”
“I am.” You laughed quietly.
“Can never leave that in my past.” He looked down, smiling.
Since the two of you have grown closer but once Wednesday started her journey to find the Hyde, you knew you couldn’t leave her on her own, going with her and keeping all of it from Xavier.
Wednesday kept most of her theories to herself, especially that she believes that Xavier is the Hyde.
Heading out to the woods towards Xavier’s shed hoping he could clear out some answers for her.
Once arriving, Thing could sense something, running from Wednesday, walking around Xavier’s shed, looking over to see the canvas, covered.
Pulling down the cover, Xavier looked over, letting out a sigh watching Wednesday walk over towards the painting.
“Look, listen.” Before he could even explain, Wednesday spoke.
“You drew her.”
The picture was you during the Rave’N walking down the stairs, your dress swaying as you stepped down each step. Standing behind her, Xavier lifted his hand, letting the painting come to life, your self painting following your steps walking down the stairs.
“I-I couldn’t stop thinking about her.” He confessed. Xavier truly didn’t know what Wednesday was going to do with the information, probably knowing that you were going to find out soon enough. “Just let me tell her first.”
“I make no promises.” Wednesday spoke.
Coming back into her dorm, Wednesday contemplated what Xavier told her, knowing he probably would never tell you, and after hearing Enid gush about you and Xavier potentially being together, Wednesday thought it was best to let you know.
Upon entering the room, she saw Enid sitting on her bed watching a movie, looking up, you saw your cousin coming into the room.
“You finished what you were looking for?” You asked her, pausing the movie, turning your attention to Wednesday.
“No, my dream didn’t help.” She concluded, finally turning to look at you. “Xavier drew a picture of you.”
There was a moment of silence before Enid let out a loud squeal. Both of you turned to see Enid, practically shaking in her spot.
“Oh my god!” She gushed, grabbing onto your shoulders, shaking you back and forth, “I told you he liked you back!”
You couldn’t barely comprehend what she said, still shocked that Xavier drew a picture of you, you always thought he saw you as a friend, a friend wouldn’t draw a friend would they?
For the rest of the night you had to listen to Enid go on and on about you and Xavier, saying that the two of you needed to get together immediately, along with that, saying that the two of you could go on double dates with her and Ajax.
“Enid.” You said calmly, “He doesn’t know that I know.”
“Right.” Enid nodded her head slowly, “You’ll have to tell him tomorrow then.”
You knew Enid was right, you needed to talk to Xavier eventually.
Seeing him in classes the next few days, you tried to plan it out as much as could, speaking to him after class but something always got in the way of you getting to him.
Finally gaining the courage, you made your way towards his dorm, frowning when he didn’t answer, after the 3rd time trying you gave up, but still on a mission to find him.
Going out into the woods, following the familiar trail towards his art shed, knowing it was the only other place he would be that wasn’t his room outside of class.
“Xavier.” You knocked on the wood, opening the door slightly, poking your head in slightly.
Seeing that his headphones were on, you slipped in quietly, slowly making your way next to him, “Hi.”
Jumping, Xavier tried to hide what he was hiding while trying to answer back to you. “Shit, you scared me.”
“I’m sorry.” You apologized, “I knocked, but you had your headphones on, and I was wondering if we could talk?”
Finally looking at what he was drawing, your eyes widened, seeing the couple on his canvas.
“That looks beautiful Xavier.” You confessed, letting your eyes soak every spot. “Who did you draw?”
Feeling conflicted, Xavier didn’t know what to say, he knew that it was time to tell you about the other painting, and along with that, telling you how he feels about you.
Feeling his mouth dry, Xavier muttered up a small whisper, “It’s us.”
Closing his eyes, Xavier was waiting for the worst, saying that you now hated the painting, or that you didn’t think of the two of you like that.
“Really?” You smiled, “I kind of came to talk about us.”
Xavier let out a small sigh, looking up from his lap, looking at you, waiting for you to continue. “Wednesday told me about your painting.”
Letting out a hough, Xavier knew that Wednesday couldn’t keep her mouth shut, always wanting to know everyone’s drama.
Silently, Xavier stood going back to your painting, pulling down the sheet. You stood on his side, letting out a quiet gasp. It was, you couldn’t even form into words about what you thought about it.
“I know it’s kind of weird but-mmpphh!”
His words were cut off when he felt you grab ahold of his collar, pulling him down towards you. Feeling his lips on yours, Xavier greedily grabbed your face practically forcing his lips any farther on yours.
Humming, you smiled into the kiss, feeling your bottom lip being sucked, pulling away slightly, looking out a quiet moan.
Pulling away, both your lips swollen, you shyly looked up at Xavier.
“I guess you liked it.” He murmured.
“I think I liked it a lot more.” You smirked, “I have to thank the artist properly.”
“Another kiss should be sufficient.” He smiled, pulling you closer to him. “And maybe a date if he’s lucky.”
“I think I could make that happen, he seems really cute and my friends are constantly telling me that the two of us would be perfect together.”
“I think they have the right idea.” He smiled, gazing down at you, silently thanking your cousin for giving the two of you that final little push.
Reader: fem, Laurel’s daughter, not so villain(ish) anymore
Summary: You start considering Tyler’s proposal to leave. But you have to get away with the night you spent with him first.
Warnings: canon-typical dark themes discussed, suggestive dialogue, making out, awkward conversation with your secret boyfriend’s dad
Word count: 3.5K
Note: This part was getting long, so I decided to split it in two. The next one is where shit gets real. Hold on tight dear readers🤍
Part 1 here || Part 2 here || Part 3 here
Masterlist here
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You were beautiful when you slept.
Tyler really didn’t mean for it to sound as creepy as it did. It wasn’t the act of watching you sleep in itself that had him so mesmerized. There was just something about the way you had chosen to let yourself be vulnerable in his bed, and in his embrace, like you felt completely safe doing so. And you were - the protective instinct he harboured for you was practically purring and growling at the same time as you lay there with your head on his chest and one of your legs casually tangled with his. Tyler had found himself coiling his arms around you in a way that both allowed him to feel as much of you as possible, but also cover some of your soft spots - your head, your neck. As if a wild animal might crawl through the window any minute and try to prey on you.
Ironic, he knew. And irrational. But ever since his Hyde had been unlocked, he’d had a tendency to do things that didn’t have as much to do with reason as they did with the primal instinct of a predator. It made sense, then, that he would also become that much more fierce in protecting what was his - or, what he thought of as his. You didn’t need to ask him to kill for you. He’d do it at the slightest sign that you were in danger.
He just didn’t want you to slip away. He couldn’t let that happen, and the few days since the Rave’N when it had felt like it was happening had nearly driven him insane.
Tyler had been stuck with the taste of paint in his mouth for hours afterwards, cursing those stupid boys for their prank. He couldn’t care less about the dance itself, but the fake blood had prevented him from relishing the taste of your skin in the brief moments he was finally allowed to put his mouth on you. It had ended so quickly when Laurel had interrupted, and the next time he saw you you’d been distant, reserved, shattering any hope he’d had that you could pick up where you left off. And you’d kept acting that way, always avoiding the topic of your stolen kisses whenever he so much as hinted at it, always keeping a painful distance between you.
Until last night, when you’d showed up at his place, of your own free will, to check on his wounds. It had taken him a while to convince himself that you were, in fact, worried about him, because how often does it happen that his most desperate desires come true right when he needs them to? He’d needed his mother to be okay, and she wasn’t. He needed his father to talk to him, and he vehemently refused. He needed you to care about him…
And you’d come straight into his arms and given him the kiss he’d been craving so painfully it almost hurt to finally have it. Your way of telling him you wanted him to follow you wherever you went.
Even though you felt too trapped to actually go.
But you’d stayed with him anyway.
He had to admit, he might have been responsible for the somewhat risky length of your stay, though. Ever the responsible one, you really had gotten ready to leave while the hour was still- well, not reasonable, but explainable. All you’d had left to do was put on your shoes and walk out the door - but your attempts to do so had been swiftly thwarted by Tyler’s soft kisses and alluring whispers in your ear, sweetly tempting you to stay just a little longer, just five more minutes in his arms. He couldn’t help it, and you couldn’t resist - a fatal combination. His bed was cozy, his chest was warm, his lips nice and soft on your skin in all the right places and ways… and ‘five minutes’ had inevitably led into the next morning.
Tyler had drifted off once or twice, but that pesky itch in the back of his mind saying that he was touching what wasn’t his wouldn’t let him sleep for long. That was fine by him. More time to relish the feeling of you in his arms.
You made a cute sound of content as you drifted back into the waking world, nuzzling into Tyler’s neck when that was the first thing you felt.
“Morning,” he murmured in your hair, pressing a kiss there. For one, blissful moment, you smiled against his shoulder, doing the same.
“Morning.”
And then you went stone-still, eyes wide.
“Shit. I fell asleep. I told you not to let me fall asleep!” you freaked out the moment you realized where you still were.
Driven by sudden panic, you shot out from beneath the covers, leaving Tyler’s chest exposed to the chill in the morning air without your warmth. He sighed, casually resting his head on his arm.
“I didn’t want you to go,” he shrugged innocently, watching you bend over to get your shoes on. He reached out to rub the large palm of his hand over your lower back, in hopes that he might coax you back into bed with his touch. “And you were really tired, y/n.”
“Yeah, and now I’m really dead,” your head snapped back to him once you finished doing your laces. Attempt to charm you into staying failed. “I mean, what do I tell mom?” Your eyes widened in sudden realization. “And your dad never saw me leave-”
“Okay, it’s way too early for you to be this stressed out. C’mere.”
One swift tug of your shoulder (that you hardly resisted), and you were plopping right back down on the pillows with a small yelp, promptly muffled by Tyler’s mouth on yours.
“Tyler,” you meant to protest, but it came out like more of a moan. He smiled in victory against your lips. “Tyler, I have to... I have to go...”
Except, you were laying your hands on his chest and shoulders to let them roam over his bare skin, not push him away, and you were melting so deliciously into his kiss, he felt like he might accidentally devour you.
He imagined that was what vampires felt when they became thirsty. The Hyde craved fear, not blood, and not from you. But even though he didn’t have fangs or the desire to sink them into your skin, he would damn well make sure to taste and memorize every inch of you he could get his hands on. Again.
“You’re unbelievable,” you sighed, very unconvincingly annoyed as his lips strayed towards your neck.
“You’ve already been gone all night, the damage is done,” he murmured, nipping gently at a sensitive spot he’d discovered last night beneath your ear. “Might as well make the most of what’s left.”
“Don’t say things like that.” You gave his hair the lightest warning tug. He wouldn’t have minded if you’d pulled harder. “You make it sound like the world is ending.”
“It doesn’t have to. Not if we leave.”
He knew it was a long shot. But he wasn’t one to give up easily.
You sighed, cupping his face to get him to pull away and look at you.
“I’ll think about it,” you suddenly relented.
Tyler almost went to argue again before he realized what you’d said. Last night, it had been a definite no. Now, it was a maybe.
“You promise?” he asked, not quite able to believe it. The possibility that you might choose him - not just for the night, but over everything you’d ever been taught was true.
It almost seemed plausible, though, with the way you were looking up at him. He’d had girls look at him all kinds of ways before - most of them like he was too precious for this world, what with his always kind words and caring nature. And he had been that way, for a while and to some extent. But there was also that other side to him, the one that not only felt the pain, but lashed out in search for some semblance of relief, regardless of what was good and fair. As if he could get rid of all the misery by throwing it at other people. And that wasn’t even the Hyde - he’d destroyed Xavier’s mural before he’d ever known the Hyde existed. It was just him, being an imperfect human being. The difference was, back then he’d also had the sense to realize that all that rage served for was to get him into trouble. That it wouldn’t bring his mother back, but shame her memory - it wouldn’t gain his father’s attention, but his anger.
The Hyde didn’t listen to reason when it came out. It only listened to Laurel. And Laurel had such strong rage and violent tendencies of her own, he could barely tell his and hers apart when the Hyde-master bond connected them.
You’d seen all that. You’d seen him serving coffee with a pleasant smile, and covered in blood after a vicious kill. You’d seen him proud, and angry, and rude, and weak in the face of his master. You had a mother who was practically obsessed with having you by her side, who hated his kind with a passion and had taught you to do the same. Basically, you had every reason not to be looking at him like he was a perfect fucking mess that you wanted for your own.
But you still did. And you still flipped him over and straddled his waist, leaning down to whisper right over his smiling lips, “I promise.”
He shouldn’t let himself believe it. But damn, it was nice to be hopeful about the future for a change. As nice as having you pressed against him, soft and warm in his hands. He pulled you into him with the full intent of keeping you there for at least another so-called ‘five minutes’, but you skillfully eluded his lips with a teasing smile.
“Now, I really,” you left a brief kiss on his neck, “have” another peck “to” and another “go.”
And then you stopped, tragically so, pulling yourself off him. This time, leaving him pliant enough from your kisses that you actually made it off the bed. Tyler groaned, sitting up while you grabbed your things. When you checked your phone before putting it back in your bag, you cursed.
“Two missed calls from my mom. I don’t know what I’m gonna tell her yet, but you never saw me last night, okay?”
“Not for a second,” he assured you... eyes blatantly raking over you as he did so. “Not… one… delicious... inch.”
You picked up the nearest harmless object - a stress ball on his desk - and threw it at his head. Tyler ducked and let it bounce off the wall, laughing at your flustered indignation.
“I’m serious,” you chuckled. Then grimaced. “What are the chances of me getting out of here without running into your dad?”
Tyler checked his phone for the time.
“Unless you want me to turn and give you a ride out the window...”
“None. Got it,” you sighed.
“Or you could wait for him to leave for work,” Tyler suggested, not at all innocently. “That’s… about half an hour.”
“Nice try.” You went and gave him one last, only slightly lingering kiss. “I’ll see you later.”
Tyler cupped your cheek when you went to pull away, but not to try anything else. He simply kept you there, forehead resting against his, for a moment longer.
“You promised,” he reminded you softly, no more fooling around. He wanted you to say yes more than anything. More than he knew how to put into words. You had to know that.
“Yeah,” you murmured, breathless under the weight of his gaze. “Yeah, I know.”
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Your heart was still pounding as you tiptoed your way down the stairs.
You’d never been a saint. That wasn’t really an option, when you grew up with a mother whose entire purpose in life was to get revenge on the people who had wronged her family, and teach you everything you needed to know in order to be by her side when she does so. You were no stranger to deceit, and a pretty decent liar.
But you’d only ever lied for Laurel, not to her. As such, the night before had felt like the most dangerous thing you’d ever done. It made you horribly nauseous. And excited. And... hopeful in a strange way you’d never even realized you needed - that there was something, someone more to your future than the everpresent promise of destruction and retribution at your mother’s side. You’d barely even had the chance to think about what you wanted to do after - because after was what everything else would have to wait for. Until then, there was nothing but the mission to bring back Joseph Crackstone, and help him finish his nefarious work.
And all of a sudden, you had crossed paths with someone infinitely more appealing than the centuries old corpse of a hateful madman. Even if that someone had a beast form prone to breathtaking anger and… let’s call them commitment issues.
You knew it was probably the lingering euphoria from Tyler’s touch dampening the guilt that had torn you up inside the night before. It had been so much easier to pretend like he didn’t mean as much to you as he did before you’d actually spent the night in his arms, proving the complete opposite. It didn’t erase your predicament, though - it only made it so much harder. You knew full well that it wasn’t Crackstone’s vision you couldn’t bear to betray, but your mother’s wishes.
But you meant what you’d said. You’d think about it, and figure out a way not to lose Tyler - especially to your mother’s cruelty. You found yourself contemplating doing things you never even would have dared to think of before. Things that might cost you your own sanity.
Tyler Galpin was gonna be the death of you.
You were likely to die of embarrassment before that, though - ‘cause right when you were almost out the door, someone said your name in confusion. And it wasn’t Tyler.
Fuck, you mouthed before turning around, a sheepish smile on your face.
“Good morning, Sheriff.”
“Morning,” Tyler’s dad gave you a short nod. He’d just emerged from the kitchen with a cup of coffee in his hand, and was now standing awkwardly in his own hallway. The silence can’t have been that long, but it managed to make you cringe to a painful degree before you decided to break it the only way you knew how.
“For the record, I really wasn’t planning on spending the-”
Tyler’s dad raised a hand to silence you, more than eager to not have that conversation. “No need. Um… You guys are old enough. That’s strictly your business. As long as it’s a... safe business.”
“Yeah. Sure,” you said quickly, somewhat relieved.
If there was one thing you knew about Tyler’s dad, it was that he would avoid uncomfortable topics at any cost.
Even that of alienating his son.
In your current predicament, though, that trait of his came in handy.
“Besides, well…” the sheriff cleared his throat. “It’ll do Tyler good to... have someone.”
You had a feeling he was just glad that someone wasn’t Wednesday Addams. Not the most flattering compliment. But it’s not like you were there to ask for Tyler’s hand in marriage.
“Maybe don’t mention this to anyone?” you tried your luck, since things seemed to be going in your favour. “My mom’s pretty... strict about these things.”
“Ms. Thornhill? Really?” he asked, genuinely surprised. “She seems pretty easy-going to me.”
Of course she does. Because you’re not looking. Not at her, not at Tyler. You’re not seeing her get away with murder under your nose, like you’re not seeing that she made your son more or less her slave. Less as of late, but still.
“I’d just rather tell her in my own time,” you dismissed those gut-wrenching thoughts.
“Alright,” he agreed after considering for a moment. “Try not to take too long, though. Secrets tend to either get out or...”
“... push people away?”
Damn it, who were you to lace your words with that subtle tone of accusation? You weren’t sure if he’d noticed, or was simply feeling the guilt of having done that himself. Either way, his hard silence was your cue to take your leave while you were still in his good graces.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you backtracked, mustering a polite smile. “Have a nice day, Sheriff.”
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At night, the old Gates mansion was the stuff of nightmares. In daylight, though, it was just sad. To you, at least. An old ruin, clinging to wounds of the past that did nothing but poison the present.
You were supposed to go back there last night, after the Sheriff had (wrongly) convinced himself that there was nothing suspicious about it. Your mother, however, had gone to the school, as she often did in the middle of the night - some of the potions needed for the ritual were notoriously difficult and time-consuming to brew, requiring attention at the most inconvenient of times. Well, not so inconvenient to you, since Laurel’s absence had given you the opportunity to visit Tyler, like you’d been itching to since learning about his self-inflicted injury.
You hadn’t planned on staying the whole night, though, and now you didn’t know what kind of trouble to expect once you walked through the front door.
Surprisingly, none.
The house was empty, you realized as you checked each derelict room. That didn’t mean you were off the hook, of course. Only that your mother wasn’t there for you to lie to about your whereabouts last night just yet.
Just the thought of doing that made a lump get stuck in your throat. You wondered if you even stood a chance at fooling her.
You’d find out soon enough. You were just going to rush back upstairs to at least get changed into a different set of clothes when the door opened with a loud creak, and your mother walked in.
She didn’t seem to notice you at first, her expression sullen as she shut the door behind her.
Just get it over with.
“Mom,” you began cautiously. “I...”
“Y/n,” she greeted you, mildly surprised to see you. “You’re up early, honey.”
No scolding you for disappearing all night long. No interrogation. In fact, the sight of you seemed to liven her up a little.
You willed your face to not show your utter and complete confusion.
“So... are you,” you remarked. You noticed her heavy suitcase of gardening and brewing utensils she’d taken with her the night before. In fact, she was wearing the same clothes, and the bags under her eyes told you she hadn’t gotten much sleep, if at all. You’d seen her like that many times before. “Did something happen, or-?”
“Oh, I was at the greenhouse all night,” she sighed tiredly, setting down her baggage and discarding her coat. “There were some complications with the wolfsbane extract that I had to fix. We can’t afford any mistakes now.”
“Of course,” you agreed, trying not to visibly sigh in the greatest relief.
She’d never even realized you were gone in the first place.
But you were also reminded why she was so adamant that her plan went off without a hitch now, less willing to resort to improvisations. The Blood Moon was in less than a week - a fact you had been increasingly eager to try and forget about as of late. The deadline to your decision about Tyler - and the rest of your life, for that matter - was stiflingly tight. “You... We have all the parts we need now, right?” you corrected yourself.
“We do,” she proudly confirmed. “Just a few more concoctions for the ritual, and we’re good to go,” she gave you a smile you managed to return, then let it fade a bit. “I called to let you know I’d be out longer than I thought, but you didn’t pick up. Oh,” she came to you all of a sudden, laying a hand on your shoulder as she gave you a quick once over. “Isn’t that what you were wearing yesterday?”
You hoped she couldn’t feel the pounding of your heart through the brief contact. “Yeah, I... I was really tired. After we moved everything from the basement. I fell asleep before I got a chance to change. My phone must have been on silent.” Most of the guilt on your face was genuine. “I’m sorry, mom.”
She must have only held your gaze for a few moments, but it felt like an eternity. She had a way of making you feel like she could read your thoughts by simply looking in your eyes, and to be honest, it made sense. She’d known you better than anyone else, your entire life. Up until recently, she’d been the only one who knew you at all.
But your thoughts thankfully remained hidden. They must have, because she only gave you an indulgent smile.
“No worries, sweetie. At least one of us should get a good night’s rest.” She gently cupped your cheek. “Five more days, and you and I will have nothing but peaceful nights. No more outcasts. No more monsters.”
Her voice was full of reassuring certainty. Reassured, however, was the last thing you felt. You gave her the best smile you could muster, even as your insides twisted painfully. Thankfully, she didn’t wait for a reply, simply giving your cheek one last affectionate caress before going upstairs.
I’ll think about it. I promise.
You’d better do it quick.
Note: I’d love to hear your thoughts! Also, if you’d like to be tagged in this series, let me know in a comment (for technical reasons, I do tags in a reblog).
summary: finding out tyler’s been the hyde all along and none of it was real.
“it turned into something bigger. some where in the haze , got a sense i’ve been betrayed.”
Tyler looked down at you with his eyes wide. You watched him , tears in your eyes as he circled you like prey— nothing behind his emotionless expression.
“It was you.” You muttered , shaking your head as you tried connecting all the pieces. “You’ve. . . you’ve hurt people. You’ve lied.”
Your heart hammered in your chest as the news washed over you like a bad fever. Chills dancing up your spine as he watched you unbelievably , listening to you but showing no signs of actually caring.
“I cried to you when Rowan left.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion , remembering how he engulfed you in his arms when you cried about your bestfriend. You remember how he held you , shushing you and promising you it would all be okay.
The memory used to be a sweet one. One that you told Xavier and Ajax when they said you shouldn’t trust someone like Tyler Galpin , a judgemental ‘normie.’
Turns out , he wasn’t a normie at all.
“I guess this is a lesson in not trusting people , right?” Tyler cocked his head to the side. “You made it too easy. All I had to do was be nice to you , and you sung the secrets out like a canary.”
Your hands balled into fist at your side. You were scared at what he’d to do you. If you were the next victim on his list. The boy you thought you knew , hadn’t been real at all. “How could you?”
Tyler rolled his eyes. “You should’ve walked away when you had the chance , Y/N.”
“But I didn’t because I cared about you!” You defended. “I trusted you.” The heaviness in your heart hurt too much to look at him , the way his body was crouched over in a defensive position. He didn’t even look at you like you were human.
“I told you to leave that night and you didn’t!” Tyler argued , shaking his head quickly. “I gave you the chance but you just couldn’t stay away.”
Everything started making sense. Throughout the whole semester , Tyler had been there. You told him things about Wednesday and Enid , you told him about Xavier and most of the time you were just venting. You told him everything about Nevermore without even meaning to— because you thought you were just venting to him , someone who you cared about and maybe could’ve loved. . . Looking back at it , it made your stomach sick.
“Then why did you. . .” your bottom lip trembled. “Then why did you kiss me that night?”
“None of it was real.” Tyler admitted as he stood in place , a tiny sense of guilt creeping up the back of his neck once he looked into your teary eyes. “But–” he hesitated. “Sometimes I wish it was.”
His words felt heavy. There was something behind it that made you think that maybe , it hadn’t all been for nothing. But you couldn’t forgive him for all that he had done , all that he lied about. Even now as he stood in front of you , he didn’t look like the Tyler you met at the coffee shop last spring. He was darker , disconnected. Troubled.
“How long?” You asked him.
“The whole time.”
You heard the commotion start to ensue in the background. Tyler’s eyes shot towards the school then looked at you. “If you go now then I’ll let you.” Tyler upturned his nose. “But this is the last time.”
Before you turned around , you glanced at him one last time. Your chest beating and your mind hazy. “I always had a feeling from that day we met , that’d somehow you’d hurt me.”
You sighed, head dropping onto your open palm as you stared down at the empty music sheet. You were supposed to be writing Wednesday some new Cello music but couldn't quite get started.
"God Dammit!" You called out to no one, throwing yourself backward in your chair.
"What should I damn?" Came a monotone voice.
Your eyes shot upwards to lock eyes with your sister, Wednesday.
Quickly turning around you stood up "I'm trying to write your cello music, but I can't get anything down" you complained, causing your sister to sigh.
"Leave that be, for now, I have more information on our murder case," Wednesday said, "your...love interest might be our suspect."
You scowled "do tell who this 'love interest' is" you sneered, while Wednesday simply deadpanned.
"Xavier" she replied, "I see the way you stare at him."
You scoffed but your cheeks turned a shade of pink "Right" you rolled your eyes "maybe stop obsessing over this monster? Take a break? Isn't that Rave'N dance coming up?"
Now Wednesday let out a small scoff "I don't need breaks, I need answers. I will solve this" she insisted shouldering her bag "I'm checking out something, I'll be back later."
You nodded waving her off and turning back to stare at the blank staff that stared right back as if to taunt you.
You hummed disappointed, fingers drumming on the chipped wood of your desk.
As you drummed, your fingers began tapping out a rhythm and you smiled.
"Finally" you murmured, picking up your pen.
~ Time skip ~
You smiled brightly down at the full pages of music you had been able to finish. It was a counter melody to Wednesday's already written cello music and you were so proud of it. Leaves crunched under your feet as you walked through the forest. Enid had said Wednesday had gone out to question someone and you had automatically known where she was.
As you came to your destination two familiar figures appeared and your smile widened.
However, just as you were about to call out to them, words that you had hoped to ask shattered your mood.
"Do you want to go to the dance with me?" Wednesday asked, eyes blankly staring at Xavier.
Your eyes went wide and your grip on the music tightened, creasing the paper.
Taking a deep breath, you crossed the remaining distance.
"I finished the music," you said, refusing to make eye contact with either Xavier or Wednesday.
Unbeknownst to you, Xavier had his eyes trained on you, his mouth slightly open in shock that you were there.
His heart sped up and he swore that if it got any louder you would be able to hear it.
"Y/n, what are you doing here?" He asked, relieved that he was able to keep his voice even.
You cringed "handing off the music. You two, uh- have fun," you said, eyes skipping around the landscape not daring to even look at him.
Wednesday stared at you, taking the sheet music without saying anything, just a blank stare.
A couple more awkward seconds later and you were booking it back down the path you came from. Desperately trying to keep the tears that threatened to spill at bay.
Your thoughts were too loud to hear a voice calling after you.
~ Time Skip ~
It was the day of the dance and you were miserable. You tried to convince yourself that you were okay and shouldn't be so worked up but it didn't work out that well.
In hopes to clear your head, you had gone out for a walk, outside of the school.
As you walked you heard footsteps accelerating behind you.
Out of instinct, you turned around your pocket knife in hand, holding it to the person's throat.
To your surprise, you were face to face with Xavier who had his hands up in defense.
"Woah there, I thought Wednesday was the only one who liked sharp objects," he said, trying to joke around.
You however just rolled your eyes, sliding the knife back into your pocket "self-defense comes in handy at my house" you replied.
Xavier gulped and nodded putting his hands down "oh- right" he muttered, "but that's not the point I wanted to show you something."
You scoffed at this "why? Aren't you supposed to be with Wednesday? At the dance?" You questioned, crossing your arms.
He sighed "look, just come with me okay? I'll make it worth your while" he promised, holding out his hand for you to take.
You glanced from his outstretched hand to his eyes back to his hand before sighing and taking his hand "fine."
Xavier smiled before he began pulling you to the woods. Neither of you said anything as he lead you down a familiar path, to a recognizable building.
He tugged you inside, and your eyes were quick to dart around the room that was covered wall to wall with drawings.
You were amazed, most of the images were simply in black yet there was so much attention to detail, it took your breath away.
Xavier smiled at your reaction, walking over to a covered-up drawing "don't freak out okay?" He said.
You nodded and with that he took the tarp off with one fluid motion, revealing a large drawing of yourself writing music.
Your eyes widened walking over, your fingers delicately tracing over the ink, before your attention was brought to Xavier.
"You drew this? Why? How? When?" You questioned.
Xavier shoved his hands in his pockets, head bowed with a sheepish grin "I've had visions of you and it helps to think through my thoughts by drawing them" he tried to explain "me and Wednesday we didn't- nothing happened between us. I refused her offer to the dance, I wanted someone else to ask me."
Your breathing hitched as he took a step closer to you "who?" You asked your voice barely above a whisper.
"You" Came his reply "it's always been you."
His hand reached up to cup your face and you allowed yourself to relax into the touch.
Xavier's smile turned into a smirk as his eyes flickered to the drawing
"guess you could say I'm drawn to you"
synopsis, y/n galpin is suddenly plagued with hallucinations of the dead.
warning(s), death, murder - your usual wednesday themes!
note, might have part 2 not sure yet!
masterlist
“dad, what did the latest victim of the attacks look like?” y/n questioned, cornering him in the kitchen.
“can’t tell you, it’s confidential,” he huffed, pouring himself a cup of coffee, “and why the hell do you care exactly?”
y/n bit the inside of her cheek and sighed, “i’ve been seeing things again, i think it’s connected to whatever is going on in the woods-“
“y/n, we’ve been through this before, there’s no monster in the woods, okay?” he raised his voice, “you know maybe you should see tyler’s therapist if you’re seeing things.”
“great, another kid you’re just shipping off to therapy, so you don’t have to deal with them,” tyler rolled his eyes, making his father groan.
“i don’t have time for this.” sheriff galpin shook his head and grabbed his hat from by the door, “tyler you stay with your sister today.”
“dad, just listen, if i can match a description to one of the victims without seeing the files, that must mean something to you!” y/n let out an exasperated sigh, frustrated her dad won’t listen to her.
“stay with your brother.” he ignored her and shut the front door.
“you have got to be kidding me,” y/n groaned, going to sit down at the table tyler was eating his breakfast at.
“so.. what kind of stuff are you seeing?” he raised an eyebrow at his sister.
y/n frowned, “i can’t escape it, i go to sleep and my dreams are of dead people warning me, asking me to help them, but when i’m awake i see these corpses that just sit next to me and speak in riddles..? and i’m not talking ghosts, i mean right in the flesh as i’m seeing you!”
tyler frowned, “you sure you’ve been getting enough sleep?”
y/n rolled her eyes, “if you don’t believe me, forget about it, tyler.”
“i believe you, seeing dead people.. y’know that happens, sure,” he shrugged, trying to hide a smile.
“whatever, i guess i’m going with you to work.” y/n stood up and walked to her room to get changed. one of the downsides to having the town’s sheriff as your father was that he was always onto you. tyler and y/n’s father had felt more and more like a parole officer than a father ever since they had lost their mother. after all, he did bury himself in his work to avoid the grief that came with losing his wife.
when y/n walked into the weathervane, she was relived to see that her friend was already there. xavier thorpe was an unlikely friend she had made during the last outreach day. she had been on her way home and stumbled across the boy beaten and crying, although he would adamantly deny that he was crying. his mural had been vandalised and his face sported a black eye.
she learnt the unfortunate news that it was her brother that did this to the boy and y/n had made it her mission to help the boy out to pay for what her brother had done.
“hey there… are you okay?”
“leave me alone! i don’t want any trouble!”
“i’m not here to hurt you, i just want to help.”
the start of an unlikely friendship had also been the start of the rocky relationship that tyler and y/n had. for the most part, tyler and y/n were able to co-exist, but in recent years his temper worsened and it was jeopardising the two siblings’ relationship.
“xavier! hey!” y/n called out to her friend, ignoring tyler who had muttered something under his breath.
“y/n?” xavier turned around in his booth, “hey? i wasn’t expecting you to be here?”
y/n slid into the booth, sitting across from xavier, “really? aren’t you a psychic or something? isn’t it your thing to expect things?”
xavier rolled his eyes, “ha-ha, very funny, just as funny as the hundreds of other times you’ve said that joke actually.”
y/n grinned, “wow, must be a good one then.”
“it was the first time,” he took a sip of his coffee, looking at y/n with an unamused face.
“oh come on, it’s a good one!” y/n laughed, leaning back in the booth to get comfortable, “actually i did have a question about something.”
“one caramel latte,” tyler slid a mug on the table in front of y/n, a lopsided smile on his face.
“thanks,” y/n smiled at her brother, “do i need to pay for this?”
tyler rolled his eyes and went back to behind the counter. y/n’s attention focused back to xavier, who seemed incredibly uncomfortable.
“sorry about him.. i think he’s just got something going on, he’s been weird lately.. don’t mind him,” y/n whispered, trying to keep her voice down, “anyways… i wanted to ask you something.”
xavier nodded and raised an eyebrow, “if you’re going to ask me whether the love of your life is about to walk through the door, i’m going to say no again.”
“no, i promise! it’s serious,” y/n laughed, “but if the love of my life was about to walk in would you tell me?”
“i’d tell whoever they were to get a restraining order, now get to your point,” xavier chuckled.
“okay, a bit mean.. but i wanted to know if you know this person from school,” y/n paused, “i don’t know his name, but he has glasses, he was kind of short, maybe around my height, a bit taller… slicked back hair? i know he’s a student at nevermore.”
xavier blinked, the only person coming to mind was his roommate rowan, well ex-roommate now, “how do you know he’s a student?”
y/n sighed and shut her eyes, “i need you to promise you won’t look at me like i’m crazy, or losing it, because i’ve been getting that all day and it’s not even midday yet.”
xavier seemed a bit more concerned for his friend now, his face morphing into a frown, “what’s going on? are you doing okay?”
“i keep having dreams, really fucking bizarre dreams and even when i’m awake it seems like these dreams are bleeding into my reality,” y/n explained, her voice quiet and shaky, “i keep seeing people walking around, they’re covered in blood and… they sometimes stare at me, or try to talk to me?”
“shit,” xavier sighed, “what about the nevermore student, why ask about him in specific?”
“i first had a dream about him, he led me into the woods and just pointed at the ground,” y/n furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, trying to make sense of the dream in her mind, “and then the next day i saw him in town, so i followed him to try and talk to him and when i did he said he couldn’t help me?”
“wait, you saw him?” xavier’s eyes widened, rowan hadn’t messaged him back since he got expelled, but it was strange to him that rowan was still in jericho.
“he said he’d been in an accident, but he couldn’t remember what happened, he couldn’t help me and i looked away for a second and he was gone, out of thin air.” y/n explained, taking a sip of her latte to try and wet her dry mouth.
“that’s not possible.” xavier muttered.
“you’re telling me!” y/n scoffed.
“no, no, you couldn’t have seen rowan, he was expelled and sent home,” xavier explained, his face scrunched up in confusion, “it could have just been a dream, you’re a normie, plus there’s no way you saw him.”
y/n sighed, “maybe my dad was right, i should… see someone about this.”
xavier grabbed y/n’s hands gently, “hey, it’s okay to talk to someone about this stuff, it’s good for you, i’ve been talking to the shrink in town for my nightmares, it helps.”
“it all felt so real…” y/n uttered out quietly, disappointed that the more she talked about this, the more confused she got, “the last time my dreams were like this was before my mother died.”
xavier’s face softened and he squeezed y/n’s hands, “it’ll be okay, your dad will figure out what’s going on and you’ll feel better.”
xavier felt guilty for lying to her, but he was in denial about the possibility of rowan being dead. now that two people in his life had mentioned rowan to him, it was starting to get to him. but y/n galpin was a normie, she went to normie school and had a normie family, there was no way that she was having visions, or even seeing the dead. or at least that’s what xavier told himself, the little part of him inside still wanting to believe rowan was okay. the other part of him was debating whether or not y/n really was a normie, he had visions of a monster in the woods, so he knew these weren’t just bear attacks, but he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact she could’ve been having visions. an outcast child coming from a family of normies wasn’t unheard of, but it was definitely rare.
little did either of them know that y/n was adopted.
“blueberry muffin,” tyler put a plate in front of y/n, glancing at her hands that were wrapped in xavier’s. the two pulled their hands away from each other, awkwardly glancing at tyler or away from him.
“thanks..” y/n muttered, watching him eye xavier out of the corner of his eye before walking away, “so… anyways.. sorry about bringing that all up, i’ll try to get an appointment with dr inkbot, or whatever her name was.”
“dr kinbott, you’ll like her, she’s nice,” xavier shrugged.
“glad to know she has xavier thorpe’s stamp of approval,” y/n smiled, “anyways, you mentioned your friend got expelled…? what happened?”
xavier sighed, “it was a long time coming… his telekinetic powers were driving him mad.. rowan was my roommate… one night we got into an argument and he threw me against the wall, so i knew it was a matter of time before he got expelled.”
“holy shit, are you okay?”
“yeah, yeah.. i’m fine it was just hard to see him like that i guess,” xavier smiled sadly, “anyways, the poe cup is coming up and i have a great feeling about this year.”
“you say that every poe cup, xav,” y/n laughed.
“i’m serious this time!” he protested, “i’m a psychic remember, it’s my thing.”
“doesn’t the expert warn that visions aren’t rooted in logic?” y/n smirked.
xavier groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly, “i cannot believe you’re using my own dad’s words against me, not cool.”
“okay, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” y/n tried stifling her laugh, “this is your year, you and aj have got this.”
“aj?” xavier raised an eyebrow.
“he followed me on instagram, said i could call him that.”
“no one calls ajax ‘aj’,” xavier scoffed, reaching out for a piece of y/n’s muffin.
“hey, who said you could have some,” y/n frowned. xavier stared at y/n, the piece of muffin already in his mouth, “i’m kidding help yourself.”
“you are such an asshole,” xavier rolled his eyes.
“i hate to be the one to tell you this, but i’m as nice as it gets when it comes to the galpin family,” y/n smiled smugly.
“wow, that is just a cry for help from your genetics,” he laughed.
“you are so mean to me,” she hid her smile from behind her coffee cup.
A/N: sorry for the delay! Covid #shreked me so this one’s a short one.
prev. part // next part
“Lord Bridgerton,” A clear voice greets him as he pushes through the door of Mr. Raugland’s tailor shop.
Anthony didn’t think he would ever tire of how you say his name. The bite had disappeared from your words in the last few weeks, but the teasing tone remained, and he loves it.
He still can’t quite put his finger on what it is that draws him to you. Why you are the woman that has completely ensnared his attention.
A/N: Welcome back!! It's been a long time coming, but whoo!!! We're here!!! I've completely written this story, but only the first three chapters are edited and polished. Dw, I'll have all chapters perfect for y'all before they're out. For now, please enjoy this first chapter ❤️❤️
Warnings: violence and blood, also no Footloose scene I'M SORRY (Viktor identifies as female in this chapter because I don't want to take away from his coming out)
Word Count: 6384
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Chapter 1: Meet the Family
On the twelfth hour of the first day of October 1989, sixteen women around the world gave birth. This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began. Sir Reginald Hargreeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible--
He got eight of them.
-------------------------------------------------
The day when everything had shifted into chaos started out as normal. (Y/N) Hargreeves strutted out of the shopping center she had spent the best part of her day in, her collection of shopping bags filling her hands and hanging from her forearms. Her hair and skin welcomed the sweet April breeze that crossed her path, sending a smile to her done-up face. She was more than ecstatic to get home, she had so many new clothes to try on.
Her pace didn’t slow nor did her strut falter as citizens around her perked up at her appearance. If her beautiful face wasn’t recognizable enough to the public, then the Sparrow Academy uniform definitely was.
Each of the eight wore their uniforms in their own style. Jayme and Fei preferred pants to the normally required skirt, but Sloane and (Y/N) kept to their skirts, though (Y/N)’s was shorter than her sister’s. She could never stand the suit jackets, so she took to wearing a cropped one instead. She wouldn’t be caught dead in that horrible blue sweater, either, so she opted for a white button-up.
Anyone who knew her, and everyone knew who she was, knew that (Y/N)’s appearance mattered more than anything to her. If she wasn’t turning heads and dropping jaws, then she might as well not have woken up for the day. Crime-fighting was only a “side gig”, as she’d call it. Shopping wasn’t a hobby and it definitely was not a waste of time. She was doing society a favor by fretting over her hair and applying lip gloss and adjusting her clothing. She had to have their attention. She just had to.
“(Y/N)!”
Several shouts and cheers came from all sides as civilians ran up to her, holding out papers and books and arms for her to sign, each person providing a pen or marker for her to write with. (Y/N) kept her smile wide and her gaze forward as she continued to walk, collecting more and more fans as she went.
“We love you, (Y/N)!”
“Can I have your autograph?”
“(Y/N), you look amazing today!”
“Please, can you sign my poster?”
She sped up her pace and shifted the bags in her hands. “Sorry, angels. I can’t give any autographs out today.” She rounded a corner, sending the crowd of people a half grin over her shoulder. “My hands are full.”
Upon entering the mansion she called home, (Y/N) was immediately bombarded with the blaring of the alarm that sounded throughout the house. Irritably huffing, she sang out a three-note tune, summoning an exact clone of herself from her shadow. It blankly stood before her, awaiting an order.
“Here,” She stretched her arms out to the clone. “Take these bags to my room. That will be all.”
Without a word, the clone retrieved the shopping bags and mechanically turned away, walking towards the staircase that led to the bedrooms. (Y/N) turned to a nearby mirror and adjusted her hair and clothes before peeking into the parlor. The sight within was the last thing she would have ever expected.
Seven figures stood in the room, staring up at the balcony. They were all dressed in black, aside from the young boy who was in a uniform much similar to theirs, only his was blue rather than red. From the looks of their dirtied and bloodied faces, they had fought their way to get here, and (Y/N) wasn’t sure if she liked that.
Her breath hitched when her eyes zeroed on the other young figure in the room. Those (e/c) eyes, that (h/c) hair, that nose… it was hers. It was all her, except the girl lacked the age in her features, her adorable scarred face untouched by seventeen years. (Y/N) wasn’t planning on meeting her younger self, but today deemed itself to be less than normal than any other day.
Across the room from her, Ben entered, hands folded in front of him and a look of disgust and disapproval on his face. He stared at their visitors for a few short seconds before bellowing out,
“Dad, who the hell are these assholes?”
At the mention of her father, (Y/N) craned her neck to find Sir Reginald Hargreeves standing on the other side of the parlor, watching the entire scene unfold. Heart hammering in her chest, she let a grin lazily stretch across her face as she elegantly stepped into the room.
“And would you look at that?” She made her way over to Ben, her eyes never leaving her preteen counterpart even as she leaned against her brother’s shoulder. “One of these assholes looks… very familiar.”
The strangers widened their eyes at her as she mockingly raised a brow at herself, tapping her bracelet-clad wrist against Ben’s arm. In unison, the seven breathed out,
“Shit.”
Klaus smiled in disbelief. “Ben.” He whispered, gaining said male’s attention. Luther slowly walked closer to the two siblings with narrowed eyes.
“Is that really you?”
Ben didn’t answer them, but he did shrug his sister off of his shoulder.
“And who are the weirdos on the balcony?!” Diego shouted up at the six figures staring down at them in confusion.
“They are the Sparrows,” Reginald answered. “My children.”
A sudden rumbling shook the tables in the parlor, some of the artifacts rattling with it, but no one had noticed. Everyone was too stunned to notice anything other than each other. The fifteen Hargreeves all glared each other down, the Sparrows more defensive than their counterparts. Five narrowed his eyes and turned around to face his father.
“I’m sorry. What do you mean, your children? That’s not possible, old man.”
“Of course, it is! I think I’d know, wouldn’t I?”
The Sparrows on the balcony silently made their way into the parlor, grouping with their siblings to have a stand-off with the intruders in their home. Klaus grinned and pointed at Ben.
“Everyone else can see Ben, right?”
“Cute hat, Sundance.” Ben quipped. Klaus tipped his hat in appreciation, but his smile faltered when Ben rolled his eyes at him, not the response he was hoping for.
“They call themselves the Umbrella Academy,” Reginald announced. “A group of scheming, perfidious malcontents who accosted me in the fall of 1963 when I was away on business in Dallas. Be warned, they claim to be my spawn.”
Allison stepped closer to him. “‘Claim’?” She scoffed in disbelief before turning to her brother. “Look, Five, what the hell is going on?”
“I don’t know yet, but it’s concerning.”
(Y/N) glared at her adult self, who was glaring right back in amusement. “And why… is there another me?”
The Sparrow Number Eight laughed out loud and crossed her arms over her chest, choosing not to respond.
Marcus waved his hand toward Reginald. “Is he telling the truth?”
Only (Y/N) noticed how Reginald shrunk back a bit.
“Not the part about us being perfidious.” Vanya shook her head.
“No,” Klaus added. “We’re amateur-fidious, at best.”
“But we are his children. This is our house.”
Luther nodded. “Yeah, yeah. We, uh… We grew up here.”
“‘Yeah, we grew up here’!” Alphonso mocked, causing his siblings to snicker quietly.
“I kind of think we would have noticed you.” Sloane remarked. Luther blinked, smiling and holding a hand out in greeting.
“Hi. I’m Luther.”
Sloane nervously looked away.
“Okay. None of you belong here.” Allison snapped.
“Oh!” Fei sarcastically gasped. “Well, then. I guess we’ll just pack our bags and move out.”
The Umbrella Academy watched as the floating cube beside Fei lit up green, then blue, then purple, then yellow and so on as a garbled voice seemed to speak to them. The Sparrows all chuckled at the words of the cube and shook their heads.
“You slay me, Chris.” Ben smirked.
Everyone’s attention turned to Grace, who entered the room with a plate of cookies in her hands. “I wasn’t expecting company,” She sighed. “This is the best I could do on short-- short… short notice.” Her voice distorted to a robotic one as she malfunctioned for a moment, returning to her usual smile when she composed herself.
“Mom…” Diego whispered in awe, putting his knife away.
“Mom?” Jayme blinked. “She’s a robot, you perv.”
“It’s not a robot.”
“Hey, don’t you call him that!” Luther defended his brother.
“Or what?” Ben challenged.
“Come closer and find out!”
“Think I’m afraid?”
“Luther!” Vanya tried to ease the stirring commotion. “Guys, chill!”
The room erupted with overlapping voices as each Hargreeves shouted insults and threats toward each other. The only people trying to calm the situation were Marcus and Vanya.
“Enough!” Marcus shouted just as Jayme shot some sort of black substance from her mouth and onto Diego’s cheek. No one noticed, but he certainly did, reaching up to his face only to feel that nothing was there. “I don’t know what circus you escaped from or how you got past our security, but we’re done here. You got thirty seconds to get out of our house.”
Allison crossed her arms. “And if we don’t?”
“Then we’ll have to settle this the old-fashioned way.”
(Y/N) side-eyed Diego, who was harshly wiping at his face with a petrified look.
“Look, we just fought a literal army, okay?” Vanya started. “This doesn’t need to get ugly. Let’s all just calm down, and let’s talk.”
Sparrow (Y/N) lightly chuckled and placed her hands on her hips. “Yeah? And what are you knockoffs planning on talking about-”
“Shut up, (Y/N)!”
At the command of her siblings, she closed her mouth and flitted her eyes away defeatedly. This raised some suspicion in the Umbrella Academy. Ignoring what had just occurred, Klaus turned to Ben with a smile.
“Psst. Benerino,” He called out, earning Ben’s peeved attention. “You look so much better alive than you do dead. Am I right? Except that haircut.”
“What the hell did you just say?!”
“Come on, come on,” Klaus waved him off and approached closer. “Stop with all the hostility, Mr Grumpy Pants. Oh, wow… Nice scar. Muy macho.”
Sparrow (Y/N) stiffened at that as Ben’s anger burned brighter.
“Shut your mouth!”
“You shut your mouth and just hug your brother-”
Klaus stumbled back when Ben landed a punch across his jaw. He tried to catch himself from falling, but he ended up rolling across the table and thumping to the ground.
“Hey! What the hell?!” Luther marched right up to Ben. “You didn’t have to do that!”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure I did!”
“That’s right, he did.” Alphonso agreed before everyone’s voices rose over each other once again. Marcus took it upon himself to push Luther away from Ben.
Now provoked, Luther took a swing at him, but Marcus quickly ducked, rising back up and kicking Luther in the chest, sending him flying back.
“Oh, shit!” Klaus exclaimed before getting a face full of Luther, the two falling into the couch behind them and tipping it over. Reginald watched them for only a moment before striding out of the room.
With that, Sparrows and Umbrellas dispersed throughout the house to settle their differences. Marcus jumped over the fallen couch and kicked Luther in the face. He went in for another blow, but Luther blocked his arm and sent a punch into his gut, then to his face. Before they could continue, Klaus painfully stood to his feet, holding up peace signs with his fingers as he slipped past the two.
“Alright. Peace and love, peace and love. Here I come. Damn it…” He groaned. Once he was out of their way, they resumed their One-on-One. On the other side of the couch, Diego was squaring up with Christopher, knives at the ready.
“Come at me, litter box!” He shouted at the floating red cube. His posture immediately straightened at what Christopher garbled out to him. “Hey! Listen, I have amazing hair, alright? This was era-appropriate!”
In response, Christopher sent out a blast of red, Diego groaning out in pain at the continuous attack. “That’s all you got?” He choked out.
By the bar, Five and Ben were throwing punches and expertly dodging each other. It wasn’t until Ben had him in a chokehold that Five used his power and blinked away, reappearing a couple feet away.
“You’re alive,” Five stumbled. “That’s… great. Or possibly horrible. I’m not really sure yet.”
“Is that some kind of weird smack talk?”
“It’s more of an existential problem, really, Ben.”
“Awesome. Well, here’s your next problem.”
Ben released a tentacle from his chest, but Five blinked away from it before it could reach him. Ben stared at the now empty spot in confusion as the tentacle returned to his body. At the sound of a whoosh, he whipped around to find Five now on the balcony.
“You know, even though you’re a total asshat now…” He blinked away from Ben’s tentacles and appeared behind him. Just as he turned around, Five punched him across the face, sending him to the ground. “...it’s nice to see you again, really.”
Outside the parlor, in the grand entryway, Vanya was desperately dodging all of Jayme’s attacks. “I don’t wanna fight you!” She dodged a kick.
“Awe. Did you wanna be best friends?” Jayme deadpanned before kicking Vanya to the ground. A crow passed her unconscious figure and flew close to Fei and Allison. She spun away from the staff that Fei was fighting with and smirked at her.
“You know, for a blind person, you’re not bad.”
“Who says I’m blind, asshole?”
The same crow flew above them, acting as Fei’s eyes and allowing her to watch the fight from a bird’s eye view. Keeping up with her was becoming increasingly difficult for Allison, barely missing the staff that threatened to possibly knock her out. From the side, Sloane glanced at Jayme and Alphonso worriedly.
“Should I step in and help?”
“Nah. She’s making a point.” Alphonso stretched a bag of popcorn towards her, to which she declined. His attention was directed to the fight occurring near the door.
(Y/N) ran up to her adult self and kicked herself off the wall, landing a harsh kick to Sparrow (Y/N)’s face. She cried out and fell to the ground. From the middle of the entryway, she could hear snickering. She looked over her shoulder to find her siblings finding the situation very amusing. Sparrow (Y/N) rolled her eyes and turned back around, finding her child self gone.
“The hell?”
She was sent to the ground when Umbrella (Y/N) seemingly came from nowhere and kicked her down. Sparrow (Y/N) rolled onto her back and stared up at the child in annoyance. “Okay, screw this…”
Umbrella (Y/N) watched in horror as her adult self placed her hands on the ground where her shadow was and slowly lifted them, a clone on each hand rising from the ground like a puppeteer lifting their puppet by its strings. When the three of them stood to their feet, Sparrow (Y/N) undid the stylish chain around her waist. She placed the chain between both her hands before duplicating it, one in each hand.
“Oh, what the hell?” Umbrella (Y/N) stepped back.
Sparrow (Y/N) frowned in genuine confusion. “You can’t do this?”
“O-Of course, I can! I just… didn’t think… you could…”
Awkwardly clearing her throat, Umbrella (Y/N) sang a drawn out version of her three-note tune, summoning four clones from her shadow. “Kill her clones.” She demanded, smirking at her adult self as the clones did as they were told. “It’s just gonna be you and me.”
Jayme tapped Sloane’s shoulder when she noticed Vanya standing up from the ground. Sloane calmly approached as Vanya glared at her. “My turn.”
It seemed Sloane wasn’t interested at all in the glowing energy Vanya emitted. Instead of cowering back, Sloane held out her hand, lifting Vanya into the air. With no one to send the blast of energy to, Vanya was forced to attack herself, flying back into the wall of portraits, crashing to the ground with the frames landing on her.
“Art snob, huh?” Sloane called out. She hardly paid attention to Christopher hurriedly floating past her with Diego behind him, uselessly chucking his knives toward the cube. Still munching on his popcorn, Alphonso watched as Allison struggled to dodge Fei’s attacks. Finally finding an opening, Allison grabbed the staff and pulled Fei against the table.
“By the way, I heard a rumor you can’t move.”
Alphonso chucked his popcorn to the side when he watched Fei freeze in place, casually walking up to Allison. “Hit me.”
“What?”
“Come on. Hit me in the face.”
“Okay.”
“Hit me!”
Allison spun into attack, landing a punch to the blob of a face. However, Alphonso didn’t even flinch due to the punch being sent right back to Allison without touching her, a sickening crack sounding from her nose. She watched him in horror and disbelief as she fell to the ground, blood gushing from her nose.
Opponent down, Alphonso approached her closer and lifted his foot, but when he rammed his foot down, there was a flash of Five and the two siblings were gone with a whoosh. Alphonso let his foot land and turned to his now moving sister.
“Fast little guy… Oh, for crying out loud, (Y/N)!”
Sparrow (Y/N) huffed out at her brother’s words as her younger self dodged the chain she swung at her. As Fei exited the room, Jayme joined Alphonso’s side to watch. (Y/N) swiped her chain to Umbrella (Y/N), but she jumped out of the way.
“The chain? Really?” Jayme sighed.
“Stop being lazy and use your damn fists.” Alphonso added.
Sparrow (Y/N) whirled towards them. “Shut up! I’m trying to focus- Aah!” She cried out when her teen counterpart used the other chain she had somehow acquired and slashed her in the legs with it, sending her to her knees. “Fuck! You little shit!”
“If you’re gonna be dramatic and use a weapon, (Y/N), maybe actually hit her with it.” Jayme deadpanned once again. “This is hard to watch.”
“I wanna look away.”
“Let’s look away.”
“Oh, but how can you? It’s like a car crash, you can’t just look away from these horrible things.”
Sloane gently shushed Jayme and Alphonso when she saw her sister becoming visibly upset at the bullying she was receiving. “Guys, let’s be encouraging to (Y/N).”
“What are you talking about?”
“This is encouraging. You want her to become an even shittier fighter?”
Sloane shook her head at them. “She’s just as good as the rest of us. You’ve got this, sis! Watch out on your left!”
Sparrow (Y/N) dodged right, narrowly missing the chain Umbrella (Y/N) whipped her way. She grabbed hold of it and ripped it from her grasp. “You don’t need that, cutiepie.”
“Cut the chit chat. You don’t get to do that yet.” Alphonso and Jayme started up their heckling once again. “Your swings are too weak.”
“Aim higher, dumbass.”
“That move again?”
“You’re telling me you can’t fight a miniature version of yourself?”
“Fuckin’ idiot.”
Sparrow (Y/N) growled loudly. “SHUT UP!” She hollered and struck her opponent in the face with the chain, causing the young girl to cry out and fall to the ground. She turned to her siblings in a rage. “I know what I’m doing!”
“Whatever.” Jayme rolled her eyes and walked away. With a quickness, she found herself upstairs, rounding the balcony to see Five and Allison. “Hey, short pants. What’s up?”
“Go help the others,” Five quietly told Allison. “I’ll handle this one.”
“Okay.” She whispered and took off in the opposite direction. Jayme watched her go with a smirk.
“What are you, their mascot?”
Five gave a sarcastic smile before blinking away and blinking again behind her, punching her when she turned around. Jayme groaned in pain as she crashed to the ground.
“More like their ringer.”
With a hiss, she sent the black substance from earlier through her teeth and onto Five’s forehead. He reared back in disgust and felt his head. “Ugh! Hey, gross, alright?” And as the substance sunk its way into his skin, the world around him blurred. “The hell…?”
From the top of the staircase, a figure emerged. A figure he had not seen for the past twenty days. A one-armed figure he spent over thirty years with and who he thought he left what felt like so long ago. “Delores?” He stepped closer. “Delores…?”
“Amore mio, mi sei mancato un sacco.” She gently spoke with a smile just as gentle on her plastic face.
“Mi sei mancato anche tu,” He replied, moving towards her. In a daze, he watched as the mannequin before him morphed into a beautiful woman, the woman he had always imagined her to be. “...più di quanto possiate immaginare… Vieni da me.”
Five stepped in front of her, the two smiling warmly at each other before he brought her into a hug, burying his face into her blonde tresses. His heart tightened when he felt her arms pull him closer to her. This moment was the moment he wished he had with her when he returned her to that department store. A proper goodbye without anything left unsaid. He had always regretted not hugging her that day.
On the side, Jayme watched as Five hugged the empty air before him, nuzzling his face into nothing. She shook her head in disbelief. “Ugh… Are they all perverts?” She muttered before going up to Five and kicking him down the stairs, snapping him out of his hallucination. Five managed to smack his head on one of the steps as he stumbled down into the entryway, leaving a gash in the side of his forehead.
“Seriously, (Y/N)?”
Five painfully lifted his head up to see Jayme standing before both of the (Y/N)s on the ground. His Starlight was currently holding a chain around her Sparrow self’s throat, the woman kicking her legs and clawing at the girl’s hands. She stared up at her sister with eyes swimming in desperation, but Jayme only shook her head at her.
“Hey,” Umbrella (Y/N) whispered into her opponent’s ear. “I know this might be a weird time to ask, but-” She moved away from Sparrow (Y/N)’s hand that threatened to strike her. “...um, do you know an Anthony Petrov?”
“A what?” She hissed against the chain.
“Golden tan skin, hazel eyes, dark hair, goatee, super sexy? Ever met him?”
“Is he apart of your idiot Academy? Because I’ll beat the shit out of him, too.”
(Y/N) tightened the chain on her adult self, releasing a strangled gasp. “Oh, is that what you’re doing? Beating the shit out of me?”
“You little… bitch!”
Jayme, having enough of the interaction, shifted her jaw before spitting out her poison. (Y/N) saw this through the spots in half her vision and used the chain to move her adult self to act like a shield, letting her take the substance instead. Sparrow (Y/N) quickly felt her face as she was set free from the chain, taking in greedy gulps of air.
“Oh, shit… Shit!” She panickedly gasped. “Jayme, do something!”
Jayme rolled her eyes and went to attack the young girl, but there was a flash and Five was at her side. She barely had any time to realize what was going on before the two of them blinked away. When they reappeared, they were in one of the hallways. (Y//N) sighed out and leaned against the wall, holding the side of her head in pain. Five gently placed a hand over hers.
“You okay?”
She groaned and blinked rapidly, one of her eyes half-bruised. “My eye hurts like a bitch… She got me good.”
“Probably doesn’t help that the paradox psychosis is kicking your ass, as well.”
(Y/N) froze and thought for a moment. She hadn’t been feeling itchy at all. She wasn’t gassy and the only sweat on her was due to her constantly fighting for her life. She slowly shook her head and looked up at Five with wide eyes. “I-I don’t think I have it…”
He tilted his head with furrowed brows. “Say that again?”
“I don't have any signs of paradox psychosis. I-I never did. I’ve felt completely normal since we got here… aside from total exhaustion and irritability…”
“That doesn’t make sense. That isn’t possible. She’s you.”
“I know.”
“Maybe you’re still in the first stage…”
“Denial?”
“Don’t take offense to it, Starlight, it’s natural-”
Allison suddenly rounded the corner to the hallway, breathing heavily. “We gotta go! We gotta go now!” She sprinted past them, grabbing (Y/N)’s hand as she went. Five quickly followed.
“What?! What is it?!” He risked a glance over his shoulder to find Fei calmly standing at the end of the hallway. (Y/N) widened her eyes and sped up.
“Oh, shit, that’s the scary one!”
The three turned down another hallway to make their escape. In the middle of the hall, Luther was knelt in front of Sloane, who was sitting against the wall. He must have been in the middle of a fight with her, they thought.
“Luther, we’re leaving!” Five jumped over his back, followed by (Y/N). Allison stopped to help him to his feet, which Luther oddly seemed reluctant to do.
“Wait a second-”
“Come on! We gotta go! We gotta go!”
The four of them reached the end of the hallway and yet again risked a glance behind them. Fei was still calmly moving down the hall, but she arched her back and threw her head back as a murder of crows were summoned from behind her. Their threatening squawks blended together as they all flew straight for the Umbrella siblings.
“Seriously?” Luther gaped in disbelief.
Without hesitation, Five grabbed his love by the hand and quickly pulled her away. Luther did the same with Allison as she urged them all to move faster. The doors and paintings and wallpaper were all a blur to (Y/N) as she practically flew down the halls, Five’s grip on her hand never loosening. The mantra of the crow’s caws grew the closer they got to them. At the end of the hall was a door and they headed straight for it before Five began to slow down as the realization smacked into him.
“The briefcase!”
“What?”
“No time-”
Allison was cut off as Five and (Y/N) disappeared away again. When they appeared outside the parlor, Five immediately set his sights on the table they had resurfaced the timeline to. “Where’s the briefcase?” He breathed out. (Y/N) helped him look around for their missing mode of transportation. “Shit, it’s gone!”
(Y/N) hesitated when she noticed that the Sparrow version of her was laying on the ground, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes and whispering to herself. Jayme hadn’t even bothered to wake her sister up from the spell she had put her under. But (Y/N) didn’t have the time nor the nerve to think about it any further and returned to the task at hand.
“One of them must’ve taken it,” She sighed before the sound of groaning could be heard from the parlor. The two of them hurried towards Vanya, who was being surrounded by Sloane, Fei, Alphonso, Ben, Christopher and Jayme. “Vanya!”
“Vanya, get out of there!” Five shouted, but the two teens began to back away when Vanya’s power activated with a bright glow. Five wasted no time and grabbed (Y/N), blinking them out of the house to avoid the destruction their sister would no doubt cause.
The enlarging glow from Vanya’s chest shone brighter and brighter until she released it, sending the Sparrows back with her blast. The six of them crashed into walls and glass and furniture before the light went away and Vanya fell back onto the broken table Sloane had thrown her into earlier.
Vanya groaned and whimpered as she rolled on her side, trying to calm the spinning of her head as the Sparrows struggled to stand to their feet. From above, Marcus slowly approached the railing of the balcony, silently observing the scene. After a few seconds, he decided to voice himself. “It’s over. Go. Don’t come back.”
Vanya whimpered and rolled off the table, holding her side as she stood to her feet and stumbled out of the parlor, past the still mumbling Sparrow (Y/N), and through the door with pained grunts. Everyone watched her go as they tried to catch their breath. Marcus flickered his eyes down and exhaled deeply, shoulders shaking slightly.
Alphonso huffed and walked into the entryway, grabbing his dazed sister by her blazer and lifting her up. He shook her a bit with a glare. “Come on. Snap out of it.”
“Oblivion…” She mumbled.
“Jayme, take care of this.”
Jayme entered the room and smacked her sister across the face, (Y/N) blinking rapidly and whipping her head all around. She moved out of her brother’s grasp and whirled on Jayme with wild eyes. “What the hell?!”
“You shouldn’t have gotten in my way.”
“Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?!”
“Because I was actually taking care of shit,” Jayme leaned closer. “Nothing is about you anymore, Number Eight. So, stop acting like it.”
With that, she exited the room, Alphonso following and shoving into (Y/N) as he went. She caught herself from falling and watched her siblings go with a deadly glare.
-------------------------------------------------
“Can you see anything?”
Five held his love’s face in one hand, shielding her eyes from the sun with the other. After the fight at the mansion, the siblings regrouped at a sitting area in the middle of a park. Allison and Luther sat together on one bench, Diego went to stand near the pond, Klaus stretched across one of the picnic tables and Five sat (Y/N) at the other to check on her wounds. At his question, she sighed and moved her eyes about.
“Still a little blurry…”
“Yeah?”
“Mmhm.”
“How are you feeling? Itchy? Sweaty? Gassy?”
She softly chuckled and shook her head. “No, I never was. Don’t worry, Five, I don’t have any homicidal rage. Just the normal kind of rage.”
Five gave her a small smile as Diego turned to face his siblings.
“That didn’t go well.”
“No, not our best work.” Five turned to his brother before sitting down beside (Y/N). On the other table, Klaus was sighing out in pleasure as he twisted the lower half of his body, his joints sickly cracking. Allison looked to Luther, who was staring into thin air.
“You alright?”
“I don’t know yet,” He shook his head. “I’ve just never had my ass handed to me like that before. It’s like…” He cupped his hands and held them out to Allison. “Here you go. It’s your ass.”
Allison stared at him and waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t, she placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled at her siblings. “Okay, I think Luther’s concussed.”
“Luther, how many fingers?” Klaus raised up three of his fingers. Suddenly, Luther widened his eyes.
“Oh, my god… Vanya.”
Before he could panic further about his sister’s whereabouts, Allison pointed in the direction Vanya was now coming from. “Oh,” She groaned, holding her lower back in pain. “Thank god, you’re alive.”
“Apparently, so is Ben.” Klaus huffed.
“Yeah. And he’s a complete dickhead.” Allison shook her head.
“They’re all dickheads.” Diego agreed.
“Yeah, dickheads who can fight.” Luther pointed out as Vanya took a seat on the other bench.
Five rolled his eyes. “Okay, next person to say ‘dickhead’ is getting a punch to the throat.”
“Dickhead.”
“Dickhead.”
“Dickhead.”
“Dickhead.”
“Dickhead…” (Y/N) muttered from beside him, staring down at her knees. Five turned to her and shook his head as Diego looked to Klaus.
“Hey, did Dad tell you why he was calling them his kids?”
“He sure did! You ready?” Klaus sarcastically laughed. “Dad was so repulsed by us back in Texas, that he adopted an entirely different group of children just so that he didn’t have to raise us.”
“Well, that’s just peak Dad, huh?”
“Isn’t it?” Luther agreed.
“So, he just didn’t want us anymore?” Vanya wondered.
“Did he ever?” Allison shrugged.
“Well, he clearly wanted (Y/N).” Diego gestured to his sister. She sighed and rubbed at her face.
“Yeah, probably to ruin my childhood again. She must’ve gone through worse if she turned out to be a total bitch.”
Five leaned back against the table. “You have a point, Starlight, but I think you’re missing the bigger picture. If Dad didn’t adopt us as kids, he changed the timeline. He probably did do worse to her, but who knows what else is different now.”
“Shouldn’t you know?” Allison pointed to him.
“Sorry, Allison, but it might take me more than twenty minutes and a traumatic brain injury to figure this all out. Is that okay with you?”
“No, actually, it’s not.”
“Guys, look, it’s fine,” Vanya cut in as mediator again. “We still have the Commission’s briefcase, so worst case, we can just go back in time and fix it.”
“Great.” Klaus snapped his fingers as Five stood to his feet to stand before his family.
“Okay. There are two problems with that statement. First off-”
“Here we go.”
“Time travel is a complicated thing, people.”
Five was cut off by Diego as his siblings rolled their eyes in annoyance. “Yeah, we get it. Your job is so hard. Just… what?”
“And secondly,” He looked at them in slight embarrassment. “I no longer have the briefcase.”
Allison slowly rose from the bench. “Five… where the hell is the briefcase?”
-------------------------------------------------
Elsewhere, in a small house in the middle of the woods, an old man was hurriedly packing a suitcase. He neatly and quickly put in some of his belongings before shoving some clothes in above them. Just as he situated the cover over his clothes, a high frequency ringing sounded in his ears. He stared down at his shaking hands with twitching lips. He clenched his teeth roughly and clapped his hands once, the ringing abruptly stopping.
With a puff of air, he neatly packed six bagged sandwiches labeled by number atop the covering. Once everything was settled, he closed and latched the suitcase with a name labeled on it.
Lester Pocket.
-------------------------------------------------
Back at the park, the Umbrella siblings had been strolling the pathway for the past few minutes, the group led by Five, who had one hand stuffed into his pocket and the other holding (Y/N)’s hand. The group tried to ignore the looks of distaste and bewilderment they received from citizens who passed by. It was no question why, the group was darkly dressed and decorated in blood, cuts and bruises.
“What are we doing?” Allison finally asked from (Y/N)’s other side.
“Ruminating.” Five hummed.
“Why is everyone staring at us?” Klaus asked.
“Because we look like the damn Village People just lost a fight.” Diego swiped the cowboy hat off his brother’s head, causing a bit of a scuffle between the two of them. (Y/N) stepped closer to Five as the fight neared her.
Allison moved away from her brothers. “Okay, you know what? I need to go find Claire. I will catch up with you guys later.”
As she began to take off, Vanya hurried after her. “Hey, Allison, no. First, let’s get somewhere safe, clean up those cuts, and then we’ll go find her and (Y/N)’s kids.”
“Don’t bother…” (Y/N) whispered too quietly for anyone to hear her.
“Man, I hate those guys.”
Everyone turned to the billboards in the distance of the Sparrow Academy. One billboard was a picture of the superhero team together and the other was one of Marcus and Ben that read,
CRIME IS THE PROBLEM. WE ARE THE SOLUTION.
“Look at ‘em with their… stupid smug…”
“You can do it.” Klaus whispered beside him “You can do it.”
“...s… s… smug… smugness.”
“Keep working on it, big guy. You’ll land one, eventually.”
Allison turned to her family. “But honestly, what are we doing? Because we can’t keep bleeding out in the middle of this park.”
“I don’t know, but we better gear up fast before they come for round two, alright?” Diego spoke.
“And by ‘gear up’, I hope you mean a nap.” (Y/N) raised her brows.
“What makes you think they’re gonna come after us?” Vanya asked.
Diego looked at her. “Because I would.”
Klaus nodded. “Yeah, I mean, we did break into their house-”
“Our house-”
“...and bust up all their nice antiques and shit.”
Luther glared up at the billboards again. “Yeah. I don’t think the crime-fighting super nerds are gonna let that go.”
“Let’s just think of some place off the radar where we can lie low and not draw attention.” Five suggested. Diego tiredly raised his brows at him.
“What kind of a weird-ass place are we not gonna draw attention?”
It took a second, but everyone slowly turned to Klaus, who was spinning in circles to occupy his short attention span. If anyone knew of a place where no one would raise any questions about odd characters, it was Klaus. When he felt eyes on him, he stopped spinning and stared at his siblings with furrowed brows. They were waiting on an answer from him, so he tried to think of the last thing he heard of the conversation.
A place of shelter, just as peculiar as them (if not more), that would take them in.
The Hollow Vows: The Haughty Prince || Royalty!Stephen x Royalty!Reader
Word count: 7K
Genre: Period Drama, Angst, Royalty AU.
Warning: Mild Violence.
A/N: Story has no set/final plot, I'm just going with the flow. Thank you to all the read my stories. I love reading your thoughts so let me know what you want to see next.
PS. NOT PROOF READ <3
Stephen stormed out of your study in an enraged state and gave the maids instructions to clean up the mess he had made. He didn't know what he was meant to do at this point. Where can he even begin with explaining this to his father? The fact that you were carrying his kid prior to your marriage would infuriate his parents, and this would be exacerbated after he’d been caught committing a serious transgression. He had no choice but to keep this information to himself for the time being, at least until he figured out what to do.
He isn't looking forward to the punishments his father may come up with this time. Revoking him of the crown? What does that even mean? He was the only heir to the throne apart from the child you are secretly carrying. Getting lost in thought about this makes him want to throw objects around again.
“Your Highness!” Before quickly rushing up the stairs to tell Stephen something, Asha yelled down to Stephen from the landing of the stairs to get his attention. She then said, “Pardon me for being in your way but the Princess is gone.”
"If the Princess does not want to be found then let her."
"But, your highness, she is destined to be your bride! Have you not the slightest bit of concern?"As she pleaded with Stephen, Asha advanced a few more feet up the stairs. She was aware that you were carrying his heir, but she was unaware that he was also aware of this fact.
"She wants nothing more than to erase my image from her memory because she is repulsed by me. I will not impose my presence on her if she doesn't want it."
Asha wrinkled her brows since she found his statements to be incredibly comical, and the fact that he could be so harsh made her feel quite frustrated. "Does Lady Christine have your exception, sire?"
"Watch what comes out of your mouth, woman!" Stephen inched closer to Asha, but the lady did not give any indication that she was frightened of him. It is plain to see that she has picked up on the attitude that you exude, Stephen thought.
“I don't wish to offend you, your highness, but as the First Lady of the Bedchambers, it is my responsibility to take care of the Princess. Neglecting to carry out my responsibilities would amount to disobeying royal orders.” She runs the possibility of being suspended for speaking to the Crown Prince in such a manner; yet, ensuring your safety was her first concern, therefore she did not budge from her position.
Stephen’s eyes furrowed, “Find my men and have them report to me at the stables—and you will not inform my father, do you understand?” He sternly emphasised that his father was to be kept in the dark and Asha nodded, “Go.”
Stephen sprinted into the stables, finding his childhood friend and Commander, already in the stables.
"My Prince, the Princess ran away with Max." Commander Ben Barnes reported to Stephen as he skidded inside.
In an instant he knew that you had ventured out into the woods again—you did it every time he had upset you or wanted to get away from the Palace and you have given him a great deal of pain for having skills that most women in this Kingdom didn’t have the privilege of. You had a strong will and presented a challenge for someone who wants to be in control of everything, much like him. It was a facet of you that he had not yet come to terms with, and he despises the fact that his father believes Eltham needs a future Queen much like you. To Stephen, it simply meant that his father had little trust in him and was eager to relinquish control of the Kingdom to your father's Empire; this was how the historical events usually turned out, based on the books.
Stephen did not waste any time and sped out of the stables with his white steed, his commander screaming out to him for leaving them behind and ordering the knights to get aboard their horses so that they could pursue the Prince. Stephen glanced behind him to see the royal knights closing in.
“Split up into two groups of three, one going east and the other west. Scour the forest for the Princess! Return to the palace before sun down. Commander, you’re with me.” Stephen instructed his men and with their horses they went in the direction appointed to them.
Both of the men rode their horses into the forest up until the point when they reached the boundary between Eivengard and Eltham, but they could not find any indication of you. Stephen was able to hear his heart thumping in his chest as the sky gave indications that sunset was getting closer. If they didn't turn around soon, they wouldn't have any other option but to go back without you.
"Princess (Y/N)!" Commander Benjamin Barnes yelled deep into the forest, and the sound of his voice reverberated off the trees.
"I was under the impression that we had very tight security; it baffles me how she was able to flee with my horse." Stephen gave his cousin a careful examination of his face before asking, "Were you distracted by Lady Asha?"
"Let's concentrate on locating the Princess," Ben sidestepped addressing Stephen's question by galloping ahead of Stephen on his horse and said, "The sun is about to set soon—"
"Shh. Do you hear that?" After Stephen lowered his voice, it was easier to make out the voices of others who were conversing in the background. Both of the men exchanged glances with one another before dismounting their horses and proceeding on foot to conduct an investigation on foot.
They planned their movements carefully, taking care that not even the sound of a branch breaking under their feet could be heard. Ben was yanked by Stephen and forced to take cover behind a tree before Stephen looked at what seemed to be a camp just over the relatively small cliff.
Ben felt a two, three taps on the side of his arm from Stephen, who then said, "Do you by any chance have binoculars?"
"No, we left in a hurry, need I remind you?"
Stephen scrunched up his eyes as if doing so would enable him to have a better view of the unusual gathering of individuals near the border. Tom exited his tent as men in uniforms knelt before him in preparation to address him. Stpehen observed as they did this. Stephen wrinkled his brow and believed the guy was of great rank; nonetheless, he could not understand why they were camped so near to another kingdom without first announcing their presence.
Tom glanced about while waving his hand in the air to manipulate the environment to give the illusion of concealment around the camp, and before Stephen's eyes, the camp disappeared, leaving him perplexed and doubting himself.
"What is it?" Ben whispered, "I don't see anything."
"What do you mean? They were right over the—"
"What the hell are you two up to?" You came to Stephen and the Commander resting against a tree and staring intently at something that was outside the scope of your vision. Both of them jumped and drew their swords, but as soon as they spotted you, a wave of relief came over them.
"Your Highness," Ben bowed to you, "We were searching for you, we're glad you're safe."
You glanced at Stephen who was looking unimpressed, as usual, "Well, didn't you both fail successfully."
Ben chuckled and nodded in agreement.
"Commander, tell the Princess that she needs to come back with us to the palace, now." Stephen demanded as he walked past you towards his horse.
"I–" Ben paused and looked at you, "His Royal Highness asks if you could follow us back to the palace, it's getting dark."
Your gaze follows Stephen with a petty glare, "Sir Barnes, tell him that I said, only because you," You pointed at the Commander, "asked me nicely."
Ben mounted his horse and turned to Stephen, "The Princess says that she will be joining us only because I asked nicely."
Stephen scoffed and then the three of you started your trek back, with Ben being caught in the centre of the three of you. You encouraged Max to move a bit faster, and at that moment, Stephen made another attempt to speak.
"Commander Barnes, tell the Princess that we will be riding slowly so as to not endanger something precious she is carrying."
"Princess, the Prince demands that we ride our horses slowly." Ben relayed the message with a flat tone. Although Stephen was correct, you rolled your eyes as you yanked on Max's reins to get him to slow down.
"Also tell her that what she did was dangerous and impulsive and that she needs to stop thinking selfishly." Stephen continued after you gave no response.
You guffawed while simultaneously throwing your head back. He isn't very good at knowing when to throw in the towel, does he? You've warned him to keep away from you, which is why you're giving him the silent treatment, yet he still talks to you.
“Princess, he said that you have gotten him extremely worried to the point he was sick to his stomach.” Ben changed Stephen’s words with a bit of exaggeration.
“That is not what I said—”
“Same thing.” Ben snapped at Stephen before secretly smirking to himself.
“Commander, tell him, I don’t want to hear anything from him, I don’t want to see him, and I don’t want anything to do with him.”
“She says she wants you to leave her alone.” Ben passed on and you nodded.
“Tell her—”
“No!” Ben snapped again, “I’m done playing messenger, if you want to say something to each other, talk like normal people.”
You, along with the other two, fell into an unpleasant silence, which the Commander had to suffer through until you arrived at the secure location of the Kingdom. Ben was aware of the events that had occurred over the previous few days, and he felt horrible for both you and Stephen at the same time. Stephen had eyes on Christine ever since the King appointed one of his loyal knights, her father, as Duke of Dremoor—he promised her marriage when he turned twenty-one but then he got betrothed to you.
You have finally returned to the stable, where Asha has been patiently waiting on your arrival. After seeing the comfort on her face brought on by the realisation that you were with the Prince and the Commander, you began to feel bad about slipping away from under her nose.
Ben got down from his horse and extended his hand to you in a friendly gesture "May I? Your Majesty?"
You turned to gaze at Asha before taking Ben's hand and allowing him to lower you to the ground by grabbing you around the waist and placing you gently before saying, "Thank you."
While the royal ostlers were putting the horses back in their respective places, Stephen rolled his eyes in a covert manner.
"Thank you Commander Barnes, Your Highness." Asha says as she approaches you.
"It is my privilege." Ben greeted the girl with a kind grin. It must be lovely to have such a kind and compassionate partner like Commander Barnes, judging by the way their eyes light up when they gaze at each other.
"I dismiss you for tonight, Asha. Truly, I am fine, Keiko and Arcel shall take care of me," you insisted and the lady opened her mouth to say something but you cut her off, "That is an order by your Princess. I'll head back to my room." You glanced at both of them with a knowing smile before leaving the stables without a word to Stephen.
The man's head followed you as you passed past and sneered at the fact that you were giving him the cold shoulder. The one thing that irritated him more than anything else was being ignored, so he did what he does best, which was defying your demand that he give you some space and not bother you anymore. Stephen screamed out your name many times, and as soon as you sensed his presence behind you, you sped up the pace immediately.
“(Y/N)! Surely after sneaking into the woods, your head would have cooled off by now.” also picking his pace, Stephen called after you.
You had to press your nails into your palms to force yourself not to engage. Where exactly does he fail to grasp the concept that you just want to be left alone by him? How is it that he was only moments before refusing to communicate with you directly and is now pursuing you?
As he closed the distance between you two and grabbed hold of your wrist, he yelled after you in an even more vehement tone, "What do you want me to do?!!"
When you turned back, you could see the desperation written all over his face. After being held back for such a long period of time, it was unnerving to see him break free, and there was something in the look in his eyes that made you question if he was scared as well. "I was unable to provide you with what you need. I have concealed secrets from you. Even if you had no idea what was wrong, you would have been able to sense that there wasn't enough of me. I wish I could say I was sorry, that I wanted to be honest the whole time, but I didn’t. I never wanted to be honest. Is that what you want to hear?”
"Oh what do you care!?" You barked, and he responded by tightening his hold on your wrists to the point where you felt as if your bones would break under any further strain.
"What do I care?" he exhaled, fury distorting the lines of his face. "What do I care?" But before he could go on, his head snapped to the door, then back to your face and then his lips were crushing into yours. His tongue pried your mouth open, forcing himself into you. You pushed and trashed, but he held firm and he stood his ground, laying claim to you by running his tongue over the roof of your mouth and up against your teeth. You were on the verge of giving in to him, but then a memory from yesterday came flooding back to you about that night.
“You cannot give me your heart, Stephen. I cannot have it in my conscience.”
“Christine, please—”
“I wanted to meet you because I wanted to tell you that I have fallen in love with someone else, I’m sorry. I will no longer distract you from your purpose. If you must give away your heart, give it to the Princess. It is your obligation as future King. Please, please, forget me.”
“I could never forget you.”
You managed to get away from him this time by giving him a push that was sufficiently forceful and getting free of his grasp. A loud crack echoes as Stephen’s neck jerks to the side after you had slapped him across the cheek in the heat of the moment, the pins and needles lingering on your palm after delivering the passion of your pain through your hand.
Stephen grabbed his cheek as he stared at your features, dumbfounded by the fact that he did not feel angry even though the area of his face on where you placed the slap went crimson. He was conscious of the fact that he had earned it.
“What I want is for you to give me space.” You said in a hushed voice before turning your back on him to go back to your bedroom.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
Two years ago
After indirectly putting out a threat upon his genitals, Stephen finally pushed you away from him. He stood up and straightened himself, “You’ve got some nerve to think I would ever touch you—even worse—sleep with you? I'd rather throw myself down a never-ending staircase.”
You scoffed as he gave you a demeaning look, you did not feel the slightest offended—it made you want to get under his skin, the little voice in your head commanding you to piss him off some more, “My, my. Your head is so far up your own ass, you could wear it as a hat.”
Don’t rise, you need to remain calm. He thought to himself his jaw clenched outwardly. “You will not disrespect me.”
You could not help but smile as you raised your head to have a better look at him. Then—incredibly—you rose to your toes and flicked him square on the nose. He staggered back, startled. His face flushed. You gave him an even bigger smile before walking backwards to sit on his bed, “I will do what I please, Prince.”
“You’re to be my wife.” Walking forward to you in two strides, he reached out to grab your arm, but stopped short of touching you. “That means you’ll obey me.”
“Does it?” You raised her brows, still grinning. “I take it that this implies you’ll honour and protect me, then? If we’re strictly adhering to the stale, outdated roles of your patriarchy?”
“Yes.”
You clapped your hands together. “Excellent. At least you can provide me entertainment. I have many enemies.”
He couldn’t help it. He glanced at the lightened scar above your eyebrow. Another across your throat. It still peeked below the black ribbon, despite your attempt to hide it. Then Christine’s face rose into his mind. Unblemished and pure. He huffed through his nose, “Imagine that.”
“I wouldn’t, if I were you.” your tone was conversational. Light. As if you were discussing the weather with him, “You’ll have nightmares for weeks.”
Upon seeing the mental image of Christine, the truth of the situation dawned on him like a tonne of bricks and slammed into him like a freight train. In all honesty, he had his sights set on marrying her. It was clear that you were not Christine. You were the most antithetical to Christine that God could ever have conceived of creating. Christine has a kind demeanour and was polite to a fault. She would never have done anything to shame him, and she would never have put herself on display like that.
"In the orders of my Father, you are not to leave the walls of this palace until you have learnt how to act like an Eltham Princess." Stephen declared, manipulating the words that came out of his Father’s mouth.
You snapped. “You can’t keep me locked in this trou de merde.”
If you weren't so upset, you probably would have laughed at the look of shock and horror on his face, “Watch your mouth.” His own mouth tightened, and his nostrils flared. “You’re to be my wife—”
“Yes, you’ve mentioned that! Your wife. Not your slave, nor your property. I signed that stupid piece of paper to uphold my duty—”
“You cannot be trusted!” His voice rose over yours. “You’re audacious. You’re impulsive. God forbid you even open your mouth outside this room—”
“Shit! Bitch! Fu—”
“Stop it!” Blood rose up his throat, and his chest rose and fell heavily as he struggled to control his breathing, “God, woman! How can you speak so? Have you no shame?”
“You can’t keep me inside this place!” you seethed.
“You’ll do as you’re told.” The words were flat—final.
Like hell. You opened your mouth to tell him just that, but by that time he had rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind him with enough force to rattle your teeth.
You slid from the Prince's bed and searched his chambers for weapons. Blackmail. Something that can be used as a weapon. Anything. You opened the desk drawer and rummaged through the contents with all the respect your husband deserved. There wasn’t much to inspect: a couple of quills, a pot of ink, a faded old Bible, and . . . a thick leather book. When you picked it up, flicking eagerly through the pages covered with a foreign alphabet, Sanskrit. Can he read ancient texts? Several sheets fell to the floor with a flutter. Letters. You leant forwards, a grin growing slowly over your face.
Love letters.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
You were awakened by a swarm of ladies the next morning as they entered your bedroom and threw open the curtains. You blinked your tired eyes open and saw the ladies lined up at the foot of the bed, the daylight making you wince.
"Good morning, Princess. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Lady Alcina Lazarescu, I have been appointed by the King as your Mistress of the Robes," She curtsied before continuing, "You have met Lady Asha, she will be you First Lady in waiting, and our your junior Ladies in waiting, Keiko and Arcel."
It was clear that Lady Lazarescu was a member of the aristocracy since she wore a garment that was crafted from the most luxurious, heavy winter fabrics in rich and bright jewel tones of sapphire blues and emerald greens decorated with strong, shining gold ornaments. You received the impression that you were going to get on her nerves since she had the same aura that Stephen did.
"Pleasure to meet all of you… what time is it?" You asked while propping yourself up with your elbow.
"Six o'clock, your highness. We shall prepare you for the day, I will be teaching you the ways of Eltham, it is with great honour to be serving you." Lady Lazarescu and the three younger women bowed before you. You felt awkward, Xareanite Culture also curtsied but not to this extent, how many times do they need to show respect?
"You may come back in one hour, I wish to sleep more." You laid back and pulled the blankets over your head. The ladies looked at each other in shock, apart from Asha who already knows a few things about you.
Lady Lazarescu chuckled softly, "Your Highness, I believe that isn't possible, breakfast is served in thirty minutes, we shall not make the King wait."
You exhaled a long suffering sigh underneath the sheets and removed the blankets over your body as you slid out of bed releasing a big yawn without covering your mouth. Your laissez-faire demeanour causes Lady Lazarescu to bat an eyelid in disbelief, "Alright, undress and bathe me then."
The dress Lady Lazarescu picked for you was littered with a kaleidoscope of alluring metallic tints of deep coppers, shimmering silvers and hypnotic golds. The dress had a sewn cape, long-sleeved tulle wings with a slim-lined, flowy silhouette; it screamed restrained elegance. They braid your long hair in two sections before assembling it in a tight chignon bun.
"Ouch!" You seethed as Lady Lazarescu gouged your head with another hairpin.
"Do not touch!" she commanded, slapping your hands away as you reached to soothe the place she'd jabbed.
"Then don't stab me!"
Lady Lazarescu placed her hands on her hips and huffed, looking very much unimpressed, "A Princess should always maintain poise and learn to be patient. You must look perfect because you too, now represent the image of this Kingdom. Beauty is pain."
"Have you seen my scars? I am not perfect." You snapped back, you never cared for them before but ever since their stupid Prince pointed it out, you couldn't help but feel concious about them now.
Alcina grabbed a hand mirror and gave it to you, you looked inside it, and so did she, "What scars?"
You looked closer into the mirror in shock when you couldn't see them anymore, "What have you done to them?"
"I have concealed it with a cosmetic liquid, you’re welcome." She smiled proudly. Maybe she wasn’t so bad after-all?
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
After breakfast, Lady Lazarescu would immediately start instructing you in the "Eltham ways," and then she would show you about the palace. She wouldn't allow you a chance to escape or even get out of her sight at this time. She would question you on the knowledge that she had just dumped on you, and you could fairly claim that you were beginning to get on her nerves every time you provided the incorrect answer on purpose because you were distracted or forgot.
“Dukes and viscounts sit nearest the king... unless there is a marquis present.” She said this as you were attempting to commit the seating arrangement to memory as you were seated on the side of the banquet hall.
“Wouldn't it be nice if people could just sit wherever they like?” You questioned with a shrug, because in Xareanite tradition, there was no such thing. However, the Queen, her sons and daughters, and anybody else who was related to the King sat closest to him.
“No. You must never seat a duke above a marquis or below a baron.” Lady Lazarescu answered as-a-matter-of-factly.
“Then where do I sit?” You questioned further.
“Beside your fiance of course! You must stay with him at all times during the banquet for he will be the one introducing you to everyone.”
You grimaced at the thought.
“Princess (Y/N), you must also learn to control your facial expressions, especially at the dinner table.”
Ugh.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
“At the very least, one must learn to dance with poise and grace.” While you were moving about with two books on top of your head, Lady Lazarescu made a statement. Since Asha was the only one who was familiar with all of the dance steps, they had her take the lead throughout the dance.
“I'm trying,” You growled slowly, of all the activities she had you doing today, this was by far your least favourite, “I just need more practice.”
“It must be perfect. It is the king's favourite dance—” She shook her folded fan as you whirled too quickly for her liking, “No, no, no, Your Highness. It must be slower and more formal. You must know how to do this dance with your eyes closed on the day of the banquet and announcement of your engagement.”
“And how long do I have?” You asked, feeling quite frustrated that the beautiful older woman was rushing you to learn things.
“You have three days.”
“Three days?!” the book fell from your head and you caught it with your fast reflexes, “I don’t think you see the problem here, Lady Lazarescu. Dancing isn’t my forte, it’s so boring! I was trained to be a fighter.”
Lady Lazarescu inhaled and slowly approached you, “You are a fish out of water, my dear. You’re going to have to evolve or else you won’t survive here.”
“Well so will your Kingdom if I don’t marry your Prince—Excuse me.” You shoved the book against her chest and stormed out of the room. Asha made an attempt to follow you but the Lady stopped her.
“Wow.” You decided to go for a little stroll, just to give your eyes more time to admire the gardens. Your mother would’ve loved it here. I need some painting equipment and paint this landscape for mother, maybe I can ask Asha later on. You thought.
“Let her. She’s going to come around sooner or later.”
You exhaled heavily as you made your way across the expansive grounds that were a part of the castle.
"How dare she? She can try going to Xarean, let's see if she survives." You angrily muttered to yourself, kicking a pebble that was in the path.
A big building made of glass was stretched out over a landscape with undulating hills. You'd never experienced anything even somewhat like it; even your previous holiday manor couldn't compare in any way to it. It was veiled in roses and ivy, with patios and balconies and staircases sprouting from its alabaster sides.
The grounds were surrounded by trees, but the distance between them was so great that it was difficult to make out the far boundary of the forest. There was such a vibrant array of colours, as well as sunshine, motion, and different textures for your eyes to take in all at once. Painting it would be pointless and never do justice to the subject matter. It's possible that your astonishment tamed some of the bad feelings you were experiencing, upon seeing the dazzling display of purple irises, light snowdrops, and butter-yellow daffodils that swayed in the gentle air.
After such a long day, the King had been kind enough to allow you permission to have your own quarters, and he made sure that you stayed in a chamber that provided you with both your own study and bathroom. The maids have relocated your stuff and organised them in a tidy manner for you. You were so relieved to get some time to yourself that you ran to the bed and leapt on it with a sigh of contentment. You then became aware of the telescope on your balcony, at which point you gave a little gasp to yourself and felt pressure behind both of your eyes. You weren't aware that Jamie had packed his telescope for you to bring with you, then you noticed that there was a tag that had a letter that was handwritten on it.
‘When you’re feeling lonely, just remember that we are under the same skies, I will be watching the moon and stars with you. – Your stupidly handsome older brother, James.’
You let out a laugh before wiping away the tears that had begun to collect in your eyes. You aimed the telescope towards the nighttime sky in order to see the moon. Jamie used to tell you that cheese originated from the moon when you were younger, and ever since then, you have avoided eating cheese out of fear that the moon would vanish if you don’t stop eating cheese. Jamie is the one who sparked your interest in astronomy; he has always wanted to be able to have a better look at the stars, and he is certain that humanity will one day be able to accomplish this goal in the really distant future.
You were fascinated by the idea of looking around the palace through the telescope, so out of curiosity you moved it around, and that's when you saw that your chamber was exactly across from Stephen's. You shift your attention swiftly to his bedroom. Thank the gods, it was empty. It's not like you normally sneak around and watch all of your neighbours. Just for a quick look.
As the door to his room opens and shuts, a shadow attracts your attention and draws your attention to it. The entrance of Stephen may now be seen. You watch as he turns on each of the lights in his room one at a time. Then he sits on the edge of his bed and begins unlacing his boots. That was supposed to be your cue to bail. Only, you don’t. You watch him take off both boots and chuck them in the middle of his floor. Then he tugs up his top, untucking it from his trousers before unbuttoning it and shrugs it off. Now he’s bare-chested, wearing only black trousers.
You need to avert your gaze immediately lest you get a glimpse of something that you are not meant to. But holy mother of God, you didn’t expect him to have . . . build? It is in no way comparable to Henry's body, or anything. He looked too lean to be buff. But he flops on his bed, lying on his back, with his arms spread, and stares at the ceiling while you keep staring at him. And staring . . . as you were marvelling at the muscles that he covered from view beneath his uniform, you most certainly did not anticipate that his chest would be far broader. If only he didn’t have a rotten personality, he would’ve been perfect. When you sharpen the focus, you home in on a stack of muscles rippling down his stomach as he sits up again.
And— you pan the telescope to his face. He’s looking towards your direction. Not in your general location, but RIGHT AT YOU.
Heart racing, you suddenly recoil from the telescope and lurch to the floor. Smooth move. Like he didn’t see you do that. If you had just kept a level head and shifted the telescope to the sky, you could have played it nonchalantly and pretended you weren't really spying on him. But now? Your shame runs deep and encompasses every aspect of your being. You lie on the floor, dying. You find yourself wishing you could rewind the previous few minutes. Now that big head of his is going to think you’re into him—which you can’t have or could even deal with.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
The next morning, you were awoken by your ladies-in-waiting; they bathed you, dressed you and prepared you for the day. You requested that you wear something much more simple, something that felt light and after a few backchats with Lady Lazarescu, she finally obliged and she dressed you in a black dress, rendered dazzling by their mix of pleating and layering. Lady Lazarescu offered that you wear another necklace but you insisted on wearing the one that your mother gave you.
“The King has organised that you and the Prince spend time together during tea in the gardens, get to know each other, and then afterwards both of you will have your engagement portrait painted.” Lady Lazarescu informed you as she fixed your hair.
You winced, “Will you please take it easy on the hair? One day I’ll wake up with a bald patch and you’ll be to blame.”
“Oh stop whinging, Princess. I’m almost finished.”
“Can I get a portrait painted one with the prince and one without him?” You asked, “I can pay for it.”
“Nonsense! The artist has been paid for and of course you can, a self-portrait of you will be a wonderful addiction in these walls—there done. You look beautiful. You’ll snatch the Prince’s heart in no time.”
You snorted and Lady Lazarescu frowned, “What? He hates my guts because I’m not what the woman he expected.”
“Time will tell.”
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
Asha and the girls escorted you in the garden where a high-tea has been prepared. Stephen wasn’t there yet and you were hoping he wouldn’t turn up. Not after he caught you with your telescope last night. You shove all of that into the back of your mind and slip on your polite dealing-with-the-palace people face. But the smile you were conjuring quickly faded when you saw who’s walking toward the tea table to join you. The Lord of Haughtiness himself, Stephen Strange of Eltham. Your first thoughts were, ‘What the hell? Doesn’t he have anything better to do? Like writing love letters to that Christine girl?’ Your second thoughts were, ‘OH GREAT HEAVENS, HE CAUGHT ME SPYING ON HIM IN HIS BEDROOM.’
“If there is a God up there, I beg you to give me the ability to travel through time so that I can turn back the hands of the clock and fully escape this nightmare of a situation.” You clasped your hands together and quietly prayed to yourself. YYou blink your eyes slowly in the vain hope that Stephen would be gone when you open them again, but no. He and his too-tall body— don’t you dare think about his bare chest—pulled out the chair and sat opposite of the tea table.
“Hello,” he says. This nearly poses a question. You consider doing the same thing he did to you the other day—raising your chin without uttering a word—but then you immediately reassure yourself that you are much too classier for such a move.
“Good morning,” You say formally. No smile. He’s not worth the effort. His eyes dropped as he sat down. As though at a loss for words, he clenches his palm into a fist and taps the surface of the table a few times while taking a deep breath through his teeth. Or he does, but he really doesn’t want to say it.
“So . . . ,” he finally says.
“So,” You also say. Is he avoiding my eyes? It feels as if he might throw his sword from where he sat and then leave you bleeding. Now you understand why people say you can cut tension with a knife.
Does he have nothing more to say? Does he intend to confront me? What should I do?! “I wasn’t spying on you,” you blurt out defensively.
“I was just making adjustments to my telescope. I didn’t know my brother packed it for me. So, I was checking it.” The expression on his face is starting to take on a more horrified tone. Or shock. Or he may consider you to be an idiot. What gives you such trouble reading him? And why is he being silent at this point?
“I didn’t even see much,” you insist. He nods slowly. “Anything, really,” you amend. “I was testing my telescope.”
“You mentioned that,” he says, while staring at you through strained eyes.
“Sorry. I mean, I don’t have anything to be sorry about, because I didn’t do anything.”
“Right.”
“It was an accident.”
“Got it.” Your eyes flick to his arms. His sleeves were neatly rolled up, so now you’re staring at muscle. Look away! Look away! Too late. He caught you. Again. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? You screamed internally.
“So anyway,” he says, “I heard that you liked painting?” Stephen asks, setting down a box containing paint and brushes on the table as if nothing is amiss, “Consider it as a gift for our engagement.”
You swallowed thickly, the decent chats were making you uncomfortable because they felt forced and fake, “Thank you.” You shift the box towards you and try to recover what little pride you have left, “How did you know I like to paint?”
“Asha.”
“Oh… okay.”
Silence. . .
“Did you look through my desk the first night you arrived here?” He asked and your head snapped back up.
“Yeah. I was bored, you told me I can’t go anywhere—too bad I know some of your secrets now.” You cleared your throat, “Oh Christine, the moment I saw you, a part of me walked out of my body and wrapped itself around you. And there it still remains. I feel that it is only with you that I can do anything at all—”
Stephen bit his bottom lip, his ears turning red out of embarrassment, “That’s what you’re good at right? Prying over people’s business? Spymaster general.”
You took a deep inhale to calm yourself, “I already told you, that was a mistake.”
Stephen leaned forward, his eyes centimetres away from yours, “Was it?”
“Huge.”
“If you say so.”
“Enormous.”
“I’m flattered.”
“I—” You scowled at him when he pulled a slow, cocky smile. You suddenly felt your ears burning up as well,and you quickly adjusted your hair in an effort to conceal the telltale redness. You wished for it to go away before the blood started to surge through your cheeks, “I shall take my leave. I lost my appetite.”
“We still have a portrait to attend to you know, if father sees us entering separately he won’t be too happy.” Stephen leaned back to his chair and crossed his arms, feeling smug that he was the one that got under your skin this time.
“And I’m supposed to believe what you say? Your face looks very untrustworthy.”
“He expects us to act like a couple in front of outsiders, so sit back down because there are a lot of people watching.” He conjured a fake smile while you gave him a dirty look and forced yourself to sit back down. Ugh this is going to be a long week.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
Eivengard Present Day
People who were left in Eivengard were gathered by the Yelenite army and surrounded them with weapons such as swords and arrows prepared to be drawn at any given common by their King, Baron.
“I did not make myself King, the Gods did.” He began, pointing up at the sky with his tinted black fingers, “King by divine right, now I have gathered all of you here today to let all of you know that your Monarchy has abandoned you.”
The people of Eivengard began talking amongst themselves after the Yelenite King broke the news, “Cardonia was once a continent in harmony and ever since the Xarean People discovered these lands a millenia ago, division came upon us, spilling unnecessary blood of Sorcerers, banning magic until we have forgotten what we truly are. . . The time has come, to take back what is ours, this is our land! Our Empire!” Baron’s voice grew harsher as at the end of his speech.
“Eltham, the home of our Eldritch magic users have betrayed us and made alliance with the enemy—”
“Magic? Why don’t you show us a party trick then?” An arrogant man in the crowd shouted out to Baron and the crowd laughed, causing the King to chuckle.
“I was once in your place, blinded from the truth, but of course. I’ll show you a party trick.” Baron created a ball of chaos energy with his hands and hurled it towards the man, disintegrating him in an instant. The audience fell quiet at the sight of the man turned into ashes before their eyes.
Baron elicited a deep wicked laugh that came from the diaphragm, he found it sincerely funny. He eased out of his cruel laughter and his smile dropped in an instant, “Does anyone else want to see a party trick?” He tilted his head and his eyes panned the courtyard filled with frightened people, “No? I didn’t think so.”
