#'this is a reasonable and hinged request and you are mean for refusing'

[gattmammon]

Interactions with my mom are hilarious.

Her: "Ask your doctor if he can put you on a ketogenic diet for 20 days I'll send you the link."

Me: "No."

Her: "WHY ARE YOU SO ANGRY I WAS JUST TRYING TO HELP"

Me: "Mom I just said no".

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Hello I wanted to request a Tmnt oneshot

Soooo if it is okay I would like well 2012 Tmnt all having a crush on the reader and they kinda have brotherly fights over her

Four Brothers and One Crush (Fluff/Crack)

2012!Turtles x reader

A/N: I love this idea! Sorry it took so long, but it’s finally here💚🐢

---------

All four of the Hamato brothers have developed a crush on you, but none of them can agree on which one of them you have a crush on💙❤️💜🧡

Warning: Spelling, siblings fighting, a few strange insults, the reader is not so oblivious.

---------

It started the day they met you, as cliche as it sounds, but it was true. From the moment the four Hamato brothers laid their eyes upon you, tension started rising. At first it wasn’t so bad. None of them seemed to notice their brothers developing a crush on you, only keeping their eyes on you and being totally blind to what was happening around them. But even though none of them seem to notice, you most certainly did.

Leonardo was constantly checking up on you, texting and calling, asking if you got home safe, or if you had heard about that horrible natural disaster in that one country, and if you were okay. The few times you had told him to relax a bit, he started offering to train you, citing that it would calm him down, knowing you would be able to defend yourself.

Raphael always hung around you, training and acting as if he didn’t see you there, showing off his muscles in the most unnatural way, yet acting as if it was. And he poked. He could never walk past you without poking you in the side, or having to say something mean. Yes, it had caused fights between the two of you, often with Raph refusing to say sorry to you, saying that you took it too seriously.

Donatello rambled a lot when you were around, either about something that he was working on, or something he had spent some time researching, often about things you knew absolutely nothing about. Often he had a tendency to talk himself into a corner, almost admitting his crush on you several times, only to bite himself in the tongue mid sentence and run for the hills, leaving you back in confusion.

And then there was Michelangelo, who had flat out admitted his crush on you, several times to your face. Yet for some reason, you did not believe him. There was no way that was true. If it was true, he would not be so calm while telling you so. No, he would be as nervous and subtle as his brothers, feeling as if he had something to lose.

But you could not deny it. One of the four turtles had managed to catch your heart, making your cheeks burn with his funny ways of showing he cared for you. You had to admit it to yourself. You had developed a crush on the terrapin, and now, you were just looking for the best time to tell him.

—

It was like any other day in the lair. Leo was glued to the TV screen, watching an episode of Space Heroes, Raph was punching his punching bag, so hard it was almost flying off the hinges, while Donnie tinkered away with whatever project he had going on in the corner. All of them caught up in their own things, as Mikey wandered into the room, a happy skip in his walk, humming as he went, causing all of his brothers to look at him strangely. It wasn’t uncommon for Mikey to act like this, but there was something different about it today. It was as if he wanted his brothers to look, so he could tell them what had gotten him into such a good mood. But they did not have to ask. One questionable look, and he happily told them.

“Today’s the day, boys”, Mikey said, almost sliding across the floor with a smug smile on his face, daring them to ask further. “It’s finally happening”.

Donnie was the one to take the bait, mainly hoping to get some peace from his little brother. “What is happening?”, he asked.

“I’m getting a girlfriend today”, the young turtle said, turning as he basked in the imaginary sunlight

“A girlfriend?”, Raph asked, giving the punching bag one last hard punch, before fully turning his attention towards the youngest turtle. “How the hell do you expect to be getting a girlfriend today? I mean, look at you”.

“Hey! That was not nice”, Mikey grumbled. “Leo, tell Raph to be so mean to me”.

“Just answer the question, Mikey”, the oldest turtle sighed, pausing Captain Ryan, before he could get to his speech of the episode. He did not want to miss it, just because of Mikey’s strange ideas.

“Fine”, Mikey said, a pleased smile presenting itself on his face once again. “I’ve just invited (Y/N) to come down and watch a movie, and tonight I’ll finally ask her to be my girlfriend”.

Raph, who had started punching his punching bag once more, almost fell over by the sheer force of his swing. Leo almost dropped the television remote, and Donnie yelped as he accidentally shocked himself with the wiring of whatever he was making.

“Wow”, Mikey mumbled at their shocked reactions. “Is it really so hard to believe I have a crush on her?”, he asked, scratching his head, thinking back to all the times you had seemed to not believe his admissions to you.

“No, it’s not that”, Leo said, walking to his brother to put a hand on his shoulder. Oh, how was he going to tell him this? “It’s just because you can’t do that, Mikey”.

“And why not?”, the orange clad turtle asked, raising an eyebrow.

Leo sighed, fearing what reaction he would awaken within the young terrapin. “Well, you see… she isn’t interested in you that way. She had feelings for someone else”.

“Leo’s right”, Raph butted in. “It has nothing to do with you, little brother, but we’ve known for some time she has had some pretty strong feelings for me”.

“Wow, no”, Leo said, crossing his arms. “You were definitely not the one I was talking about”.

“Yeah, Raph!”, Donnie exclaimed, joining the argument. “Leo was obviously talking about me!”

“What? No! I was talking about me!”, Leo said, growing slightly frustrated.

“Really? You?”, Raph asked, cocking his brow. “She has eyes, Leo. She obviously likes the best looking one”.

“Yeah! Me!”, Mikey yelled, throwing his hands in the air.

“Mikey, have you been playing with chemicals in my lab again, or are you really being serious?”, Donnie asked, hands on his hip.

“Oh, you think you’re the better looking one here?”, Leo asked.

“Doesn’t matter if I’m the better looking one - even though I am - but what matters is that (Y/N) has a crush on me”, the purple clad turtle said.

“Just because a few girls on the internet say they like a tooth gap, it doesn’t mean that any of them would find you attractive”, Raph said, his frustration growing with each passing second.

“Says the guy with a cracked plastron and a battered ego”, retorted Donnie. And that was when all hell broke loose. Raph, who now saw fire before his eyes, jumped on Donnie. Leo and Mikey tried to pull the fighting brothers apart, but it didn’t take long before they two were sucked into the fight, screaming and yelling over which one of them you had a crush on. But with their focus being on their fight, none of them noticing you in the entrance, with a stack of pizza boxes, slowly fishing out a piece to eat while watching the unfolding chaos in front of you, wondering how long it would take for them to notice. But none of them seemed to do, being so caught up in their need to be right. It wasn’t until Raph was about to bite down on Donnie’s ankle, that you decided to speak up.

“You’re right”, you chuckled, taking a bite of your pizza as you watched the four brothers turned stunned towards you, frozen in their actions, their eyes wide and their jaws hanging loose. “I have a crush on one of you”.

“Who?!”, they asked in a yell, almost jumping at your feet.

“Well, one of you guessed it”, you smirked, finding the whole scene of the four squirmin mutant turtles amusing. Was it wrong? Probably, but you could not help yourself. Having four guys fight over was the dream of many girls, so why should you not let yourself enjoy it for just a moment?

“Who guessed it?! Who guessed it?!”, Mikey yelled with an exacerbated gasp, his brothers looking at you in anticipation, hoping for their name to spill from your lips.

You shrugged, fighting a smirk. Damn you were mean, but you could not help yourself. It was actually quite fun. “That’s for you guys to figure out”, you said, taking another bite of your pizza slice, before walking past them, making your way to the television, leaving the turtles staring after you. “Now, where’s the move? I was promised a movie tonight!”

[reiding-writing]

Hi can i request one Reader is kinda cold, not mean tho, and she and spence have to share an hotel room and there is only one bed and she gets shy?? Ty 💜

ROOMMATES [PART ONE]

/ˈɹu(m)ˌmeɪt/ /part two/

when you and spencer share a room together on a case, you find yourself a little out of character at the revelation you’ll have to share a bed with him

WARNINGS: cold but not antagonistic reader

spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff? || 1.4k || series masterlist!

a/n: two posts in one day? look at me being productive- also i have formed an emotional attachment to cold!reader and i will be thinking about them for the rest of the day thank you for listening to my ted talk

main masterlist!!

You resign yourself to your fate as soon as Morgan refuses Spencer’s unspoken question.

“Absolutely not.”

It’s something that just comes with the job you suppose. Sometimes you have to spend a night sharing a dingy motel room with one of your teammates because you’re working a case in the middle of nowhere and the town you’re in has 200 people living there.

Okay. Maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. There was 1,714 people living there.

But still.

You liked your own space and your own company and as much as you enjoyed Spencer’s presence you were exhausted and just wanted to get some rest without him rattling in your ear about how unhygienic hotel rooms were.

Of course, he didn’t know that you didn’t mind him. Your behavioural tells were nothing more than a slight softening of your eyes when he walked into a room, something that, although Morgan found riveting to tease you for, he couldn’t actually be sure was even true.

Still, your assumptions were correct, and after Garcia bagged Morgan and JJ stuck with Emily, you didn’t even have to glance in Hotch’s direction to know that he would be pairing with Rossi and leaving you with Spencer.

You can feel his eyes burn a hole into the side of your head as he comes to the same realisation, and you slide one of the room keys off the table before gesturing for him to follow after you with a nod of your head.

He does of course, trailing after you like a lost puppy and making your heart want to explode in your chest. But he didn’t know that.

You want to punch yourself sometimes for being so dismissive, and not just to Spencer. The team had treated you with nothing but kindness over the four years you’d worked with them. But some things just don’t change. And so you lock your emotions away and continue to put on a front to protect your self-perceived image.

The door struggles to open even after you unlock it, the hinge pin stiff and getting caught on the latch as you try to push it forwards, but you manage with a bit of extra effort.

The room isn’t pretty by any means, but it’s not horrible either. The walls are a clean cream, bordered by a white ceiling and a planked wooden floor. There’s a window on the right wall and a door to what you assume to be a bathroom on the left.

All well and good.

Well…

Maybe not.

You can feel Spencer’s apprehension mirror your own as the two of you stare at the room’s centre piece. A double bed. One double bed. A singular bed that you are going to have to share with Spencer Reid.

You imagine that his head is running through all of the germs it harbours. How hotel beds are unsanitary and that they’re dirtier than a toilet seat or something like that.

You didn’t care about germs.

You cared about the fact that you would have to share a bed with Spencer Reid.

You wonder if Morgan denied Spencer on purpose. Whether he knew that the rooms only had one bed each and that by saying no to sharing a room with Spencer you would have to and it would give him more opportunities to make fun of your seeming soft spot towards the genius.

Granted, you wouldn’t have been thrilled to share a bed with any of your teammates, but for some reason it was him that made you feel like you were about to implode on yourself. But he didn’t know that.

You’re sure that if you had bunked with Emily, JJ or even Morgan himself that you would’ve just sucked it up and gotten on with it, but something about the presence of Spencer Reid made you feel different. Nervous maybe? No, it was just- different.

You take a moment to compose yourself as Spencer slides past you into the room, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in through your nose, although when you open them again Spencer is staring at you like you have a gun pointed at him and it almost makes you forget the situation you’ve found yourself in.

“I can- um-” Spencer purses his lips into a tight line, fiddling with his hands as he anxiously follows your expression. “I should go and ask Garcia to switch rooms-”

“You don’t want to share with me?” You’re not sure whether your question is rooted in concern for Spencer being uncomfortable or mild offence at the fact that he doesn’t want to share a room with you.

Either way it’s like you’ve dipped your vocal chords in ice and every word you speak washes down his back like a cold shower.

“I- No- I mean- I- You-” Spencer gives up on explaining himself with an exasperated sigh and a slump of his shoulders. He had no idea how to talk to you.

Every time you so much as glanced in his direction he felt like you were trying to bore a hole in his brain with your eyes and it was intimidating.

He was fascinated by your brain, by your knowledge and your inherent knack for human psychology, but you were scary, and it always left him afraid that he was going to do something wrong.

The worst part was it wasn’t even logically founded.

Apart from the intensity of your eyes and the frown you always had on your face you’d never actually been antagonistic to anyone. You were dismissive sure, not bothering to form emotional connections to the rest of the team and almost entirely keeping to yourself, but you were never nasty.

There was no hatred in the way you carried yourself, just disinterest. And that arguably made it worse.

“Reid.” Your voice cut through his train of thought like a knife, and his eyes turn up towards your own with a start. They’re big and round and they shine under the overhead light and you are really getting distracted focus dammit. “Are you comfortable staying in this room with me overnight or not?”

It’s about the time where you start berating your inherent lack of social grace again, your question sounding extremely harsh compared to the actual intention behind it.

“I- Yeah- Yes- I just- you don’t look very happy…” Spencer’s pretty sure this is the first time he’s ever mentioned your demeanour to you before, and he’s unsure whether to be proud of himself or to curl into a ball and disappear as he watches a small knit form in your eyebrows.

“I’m fine, let’s sleep.” You are not fine. For whatever reason your hands are sweaty and all of a sudden the room is a little too warm for your comfort. “I’m going to change in the bathroom,”

“Okay-” Spencer nods a little too enthusiastically for his own liking. Why was he so intimidated by you? It’s not like you’ve ever actually shown any distaste for him.

The minute you shut the door of the bathroom behind you you practically melt under your own body temperature.

But he didn’t know that.

part two!!

[undiscovered-horizon]

would you ever do a chubby/plus-size!reader? i would love to see and 11th doctor x chubby!reader where they go to a formal and it’s the first time he sees reader glow like that, since she often hides herself in baggy clothes.

kinda hurt/comfort vibes. ahh i feel like 11 would be such a romantic dork, feeling all star struck. 🥺 not understanding why she thinks she’s anything but the most beautiful person in all the universes. because that’s how he sees her 😭💕

🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀 || Doctor Who-inspired playlist

"Blessing me" - 11th Doctor x chubby!Reader

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.5k

Looking for an alien on an intergalactic banquet sounded like a blockbuster space opera but there was the tiniest detail that turned it all into a nightmare - being part of it yourself. Banquets, as it befits them, mean elegant people in fitted clothes and with graceful manners. In a bitter way, it was hilarious to you as it seemed like banquets were everything you didn't have. Nevertheless, it wasn't something you could just opt out of - you signed up for the charming and deranged yourself.

Sometimes being clothed felt worse than being naked and you were painfully aware of that at the moment. Maybe most of your skin was underneath the material but still, it felt like it creased and tightened in all the wrong ways and places as if it sprouted a mind of its own that was determined to make you look the worst way possible; like it wanted to show the entire universe just how ungraceful or inelegant you were, how out of place. The dress itself was absolutely gorgeous: pion purple velvet, leg slit, cleavage... It truly looked taken straight from a magazine cover. Except you could hardly call yourself a cover girl.

The moment he heard the creak of the hinges, the Doctor moved away from the side of the TARDIS that he had been leaning against. His expression became worryingly blank when his eyes fell on you: he could either be a victim of a storm of chaotic, dismembered thoughts or a complete lack thereof. It was hard to tell which one. For some reason, it looked like he was frozen in time for a moment, with no movement or even blinking. He just... stared.

"Do I... look okay?" you asked hesitantly.

The Doctor suddenly shook awake. Immediately, his eyes wandered off and he refused to look at you again. Still, putting on a brave and certainly aloof face, he clasped his hands and turned in the direction you two should be heading:

"Yes, right, lovely. Let's go."

He just began walking away without a care in the world, more interested in the imminent danger than you. His remarkable lack of engrossment sprouted a sinking feeling in your stomach like a lead globe pulling you underground, the dread stealing your ragged breath.

"Oh God, he can't even look at me," you whispered to yourself. Your day was about to get worse as if it wasn't bad already.

Not having much experience in walking in heels, you were doing a silly, fearful trot trying to catch up with the Doctor and his long strides. But your attempt at running wasn't the only silly thing - you felt it was all of you. Finally daring to wear something else than loose jeans and a jumper only to remember why it was your exclusive clothing choice in the first place.

The ballroom was filled with aliens most of which you'd never seen before even after all this time and adventures with the Doctor - your world was still tiny. The place was packed. Every person you laid your eyes on looked fascinating even if not exactly beautiful by human standards. They left a lasting impression that made you all the more conscious about your own outstanding looks. Not the good outstanding, to be clear.

"So, looking for an alien, right?" You tried your best to seem unbothered and collected. Whether you were successful or not, Doctor's attitude remained the same: avoidant.

He was answering you while squeezing past various alien specimens in relatively elegant attire. It was difficult to hear what exactly he was saying as laughter and music echoed through the ballroom. "Yes. Well, no. An android built by an alien."

"Tomato, tomato. We're still looking for something not human on an intergalactic charity ball. It's like looking for a needle in a haystack."

The Doctor stopped abruptly. You were watchfully following his gaze and it felt like time slowed down as you saw him glance at you and hurriedly look away. He was nervously rubbing his hands. "Well then, let's find a magnet. Shall we?"

As if he wasn't a strange enough man already, the Doctor's behaviour only became more bizarre. Sometimes you'd notice, out of the corner of your eye, his curious but reluctant gaze as if he wanted to look at you but didn't want anyone else to know. Perhaps, he didn't want you to know.

The dread only continued to pull you towards the ground, the tips of your fingers turning cold and trembling. A panic raised in your chest, and obsessive thoughts kept rushing you to just go, just leave and disappear - like you were never meant to be in this place at this time.

The aforementioned lead sphere kept dragging you and dragging until you've known nothing else except desperation and panic. You needed to know the reason, to either burn in shame or laugh at your far-fetched conclusions. Whatever the answer was, you had to end that dreadful silence.

"Why won't you look at me?" you asked him.

"What? I am looking at you, what are you on about?" Despite his reassurance, he hardly gave a glance vaguely in your direction.

He kept on leading you through hotel-like corridors, guiding you to a destination he never thought to disclose. The Doctor's attention was focused on the painfully mundane furnishing: ferns, brackets, dusty oil paintings, nauseating carpets and doors that had been repainted a little too many times.

"See? Even now, we're talking and you're staring everywhere but at me. If I look hideous, just say it and let's get over it."

"Hideous?" he repeated as he suddenly stopped walking. He looked over his shoulder at your but only for a short moment. "Of course you don't look hideous, why would you say that?"

"Well, I'm not blind," you said as you vaguely pointed at your body. It was a nice euphemism, a lot less raw and honest than consciously thinking about the graceful, elegant aliens you were surrounded by. "Which is exactly why I noticed you've been refusing to look me in the eye ever since we got here. Why's that? Just... just be honest. For God's sake, just tell me why."

"Because I can't!" he suddenly raised his voice. Whatever nerve you struck, it was a quite prominent one.

"Can't or won't?"

"Both I suppose."

"But... why?" Perhaps if it was so difficult to get an honest answer from him, you shouldn't want to learn it, after all. Maybe there was a reason he kept circling around the truth.

"A Christmas tree!" he exclaimed with excitement. His eyebrows raised ever so slightly. "Everyone loves a Christmas tree. It's lovely, it's gorgeous. Very distracting. Best not to look at it if you've got work to do."

"I'm... distracting?" Although he made it sound fairly good, a distraction could hardly be considered an advantage of any sort. Especially in your current line of business.

"A lot more than I'm willing to admit. Now come on, we've got the universe to save."

The Doctor was about to turn around and probably run off straight into the jaws of danger hiding behind the corner but you grabbed his arm. "No, hold on a minute. You're not going to elaborate?"

"I think I made myself clear, didn't I?"

"Not exactly. 'Distracting' is a little ambiguous, don't you think? Do you mean good distracting or bad distracting? Butterflies of mosquitos?"

He pulled his hand out of your grasp. His eyes stared at your face in a manner so intense, so passionate, it nearly made you want to look way as if his gaze could burn through your skin. The Doctor was bursting at the seams, all the words he hadn't said seeping through.

"I mean distracting as in the whole universe could implode and I wouldn't care because you're here. 'I could die a happy man because I've seen you' kind of distracting."

Your mind was filled with static and even that was an understatement. Maybe you heard him wrong? Or he never said anything close to admiration and you were simply overinterpreting his intentions? Silently, you stared at him. For the first time that day, he also stared at you as if he finally gave in to an urge. At that moment, his eyes dared not look away.

"You keep on blessing me and it makes my mind go all stupid and it's distracting. Does that settle it?"

"Yeah," you answered although you didn't quite believe your own words. Truth be told, you weren't sure what to say or think. How does one accept such a confession? "Yeah, I think it does."

A distant crash and blood-chilling scream distracted both of you from the intimate words. Maybe, in some funny way, it was the android that found you, instead of the proper way around.

"Great! Now let's go on a little hunting trip."

Perhaps his eyes couldn't stay on you but his thoughts never left your side.

[aminiatureworld]

Insecure

Characters: Scaramouche, gn!reader

Premise: It is hard not to take the hurtful words of others to heart, even when they are strangers.

In which the reader becomes insecure about their behavior and habits.

Word Count: 2,022

Warnings: Degradation of reader (not by partner).

Author’s Note: Genius title I know. This is the first time I’ve written fic in months so if it’s a little rusty I’m sorry. Hopefully I haven’t completely dropped off the face of the Earth for everyone, and hopefully you’ll enjoy the comeback!

My greatest thanks to the patience of the people who have requested something from me. I hope that this particular request comes out well and that it is up to snuff. I will post Xiao’s part of the request soon, though probably not until after the 15th.

Scaramouche

“Honestly, I don’t think they’ve ever had an original thought in their life.”

Your head snapped up as the voices that had been floating around you came into sharp focus. From outside the tent you could hear some recruits chatting. Focusing yourself on their conversation you wondered if being the partner of a Harbinger would give you the rank to chew out whoever the gossipers were.

“You’re right about that. Honestly, I don’t know why they insist on opening their mouth when they have nothing important to say. I guess being the partner of a Harbinger really does go to your head.”

Your breath caught in your throat at that comment. Surely they weren’t… Realizing that listening to this conversation was a mistake you turned back to the paperwork you had been working on. However now your brain refused to listen to you, insisting on continuing to listen to the conversation despite your desperate wish not to.

“I really must. I guess you have to become a suck up to date someone like that though.”

“You could just keep quiet and let your comrades get on with it. We don’t need to hear a broken record, especially not one that makes such irritating noises.”

“Honestly. I wish I could just tell them to shut up.”

“You know that Scaramouche would have our heads if you did. They’re always hiding behind him. In battle, at the meetings; honestly it’s a miracle they haven’t faded into his shadow yet. They really haven’t had a single original thought in the past year have they?”

“Did they ever?”

The laughter of the gossipers echoed around your head, rattling in an unpleasant sort of way. You could feel your pulse accelerating, as the world around you began to hyperfocus and anxiety bloomed in your chest. Standing up you slipped out of the tent, grateful that the opening was opposite of the voices. You didn’t know where you wanted to go, only that it was far away from the camp and from the people who apparently thought you a puppet.

Reaching a small lake you sat down on the rocky bank, trying desperately to find a thread of focus to quell the unease building in you. You knew that you should ignore, that people were often cruel, especially members of the Fatui. There was no reason that you should take your gossip to heart, that you should believe the cruel musings of two strangers over your own heart. You had your own opinions, of course you did! You were a human after all, one that had their own mind, that knew firsthand that their beliefs did not hinge on those of your partners.

Still the voices gnawed at you, and you found yourself going down a long list of conversations and interactions. When was the last time you had publicly disagreed with Scaramouche? Had you ever? Sure, the idea of causing a scene was mortifying, but you must have argued at some point and time. And if you hadn’t, well what did that mean? Did it mean that you truly had stopped relying on your own experiences. Had you just become another sycophant?

You felt as if cold water had been poured on you. Curling up into yourself a worry suddenly came to mind. What if you were a sycophant? What if Scaramouche found your presence irritating? The idea filled you with dread, with a loathing that surprised you in its intensity. Oh archons, what if he hated you? What if he saw you as he saw the other clingers and graspers that he so often derided? These questions spun around in around in your head, until you found that you could not rid yourself of the thorns that had sprouted in your mind and around your heart.

You decided to stay at an inn that night, unable to find the courage to go back to camp, not even to write a missive. Time. You just needed time to figure stuff out. Besides, maybe Scaramouche would realize that he preferred it this way. Maybe, maybe… You couldn’t even begin to think of what that might entail, what would happen if the love of your life were to prefer you out of his sight. Even beginning to imagine such a scenario left you with a pain is your heart, one that left you gasping. For now you focused on getting a room, and making sure that you were allowed to eat the food by yourself.

The smell of wonton soup filled the air as one of the workers brought a platter to your door. Accepting it grateful, pressing two dozen mora into the astonished worker’s hand, you breathed in the comforting smell. Suddenly aware of how hungry you were you began to dig in, ignoring the still hot temperature in favor of your mind being distracted by the task of filling your stomach with food.

You were about halfway through your meal when you heard a knock on the door. Expecting that it was another staff member your heart flipped at the sight of your partner, face flushed, eyes slightly wild, at your door.

“So this is where you are.” Scaramouche spoke in a hoarse voice, a dark look in his eyes.

“Hello.” You managed to make out, unsure whether or not to shift your gaze to the floor.

Scaramouche said nothing in reply, merely staring at you. He seemed on the verge of speaking, opening his mouth for a moment, before clamping it firmly shut. Nudging his way past you he walked into the small room, he sat in the only chair, bearing and expression more imperious than ever.

“Well,” he spoke, voice constrained. “I do not know why you wish to have our evening briefing here, but since you insist on being irrational I will humor you.”

A sinking pit in your stomach at having inconvenienced your partner once more – surely this would not endear yourself any more with him – you shut the door and walked over to the bed.

“You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to,” you said with what you hoped was a smile. “You don’t have to humor me with anything.”

“What are you talking about?” Scaramouche replied. “You really are acting irrational today. I don’t know what brought on this stunt, but I’d like to know what caused you to first disappear without a trace, leaving me to go after you, then refuse my company when I do find you.”

“I’m not refusing your company. I’m just, well, I…”

“You what?”

“I…” you swallowed. You didn’t want to say it, put the words out into the world, knowing you might well get the answer you were dreading the most. Yet you had to say something! “I, I didn’t want to inconvenience you. I’m sure that you have generals who are much smarter than I am. And I know that you find people who just parrot back your thoughts annoying. You don’t have to humor me, I’m sure it’s very annoying.”

For a moment there was silence. You glanced at Scaramouche, seeing a blankness on his face you could almost read as shock. Was he surprised that you had picked up on such a thing? Or was it something else? It was hard to tell in your anxiety filled state.

“When did I ever say that I was humoring you?” Scaramouche finally spoke up. “When have I accused you of parroting back my thoughts?”

“Well, never.”

“Then why would you assume any of it?”

A variety of emotions ran through you, overwhelming you. Embarassment, fear, shame, even hope. Mingling around they settled for a moment as you stared into the face of your lover. Though his tone was rough and his expression slightly irritated there was a clearness in his eyes, one that called you to confide in him. Before you knew it words were flooding out of you, the burden that you had been carrying around all day finally lifting slightly.

Scaramouche listened closely. Other than the slight tightening of his fist you could barely make out any reaction. However there was a tension in him when you had finished with your story, and the look in his eyes was one of unabashed anger.

“You should have seen who those idiots were. To disparage their superior is unforgivable for a member of the Fatui. They ought to be punished for it.”

“They were just chatting.”

“Just being insubordinate!” Scaramouche shook his head in disgust. “They’re scum. How dare worms say such things about you.”

“You don’t have to get so upset. It’s not like they’re wrong after all,” you mumbled. “I don’t disagree with you in public, or even that often in private. I don’t fight as well as you; the amount of times you’ve had to protect me is shameful. I’m really, I’m not much use on my own am I?”

You glanced down at your hands, only to see as they were wrapped in your partners. Lifting your gaze your breath caught in your throat at the view of your lover’s face hovering mere centimeters away from your own, gaze fierce, dark locks brushing the tip of your nose.

“Do you truly believe such ridiculous things about yourself? About me? About the Fatui? If you think that you would have risen so far in rank without any purpose than you must truly be a fool. If you think that I would fall in love with such an unworthy person than you must think very badly of me.”

“I don’t!”

“Then trust me when I tell you this.” Scaramouche lifted one of his hands up to cradle your jaw, leaning in even closer. “You have no reason to believe such worthless trash that they have said about you. None of it is true.”

The last of the weight lifted off your shoulders, and before you knew tears were building up at the corners of your eyes. Tears of hurt and tears of relief.

Scaramouche drew you into his shoulder, touch gentler than his words and tone of voice might imply. For a while he said nothing, merely stroking the back of your head as you dampened the front of his shirt. When you stopped crying however he spoke up again.

“I cannot imagine why you should ever believe such foolish things. I do not choose my lovers on a whim. And I do not continue to consort with those who have become sycophants. It is not in my nature to be kind or gracious. If I truly thought such things about you, I would not continue to want you by my side.”

The words were harsh perhaps, but you had no doubt of their veracity, nor of the fact that, in his own perverse way, Scaramouche was attempting to comfort you. Allowing yourself to smile for the first time since you’d heard the conversation you looked up at Scaramouche. He was smiling too, a soft small thing that barely turned up the corner of his lips, though his eyes seemed almost to be shining. It was all too much for you, and you reached up to press a soft kiss against your partner’s lips.

“We should be heading back.” You broke the silence.

“Why? Since you have put all the effort into running away, and I to tracking you, we might as well make the best of it.”

There was mischief in Scaramouche’s voice, and you were glad to follow it.

“Very well. Thank you.”

“I did nothing but enlighten you to the truth.”

“Still. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being so kind.”

Scaramouche sputtered at that, his cheeks flushing a light shade of red that had you giggling.

“I love you,” you blurted out, so overwhelmed by the sudden emotion in your heart.

Scaramouche scowled. Muttering something about idiots he pulled your head once more to his chest. You did so gladly, nuzzling into him slightly.

Though it was soft, almost hesitant, you did not miss the murmur he gave you in return, those words that meant so much to you.

“I love you too.”

[saurexhas]

Love is Blind - Part 4

Time for couple drama! Nightmare doesn’t want anything to hurt his precious little moon, but how does said moon feel about the special treatment?

PS: Make sure you go to the end to find a special surprise that I’ll be doing for this series!

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Adjusting to blindness is never something you thought that you’d have to do, but it was the unfortunate reality you found yourself in. There certainly wasn’t a manual to it either, but you were managing thanks to everyone’s help. There were several days first spent on bedrest while you recovered from the initial incident, and it gave you a chance to come to terms with your fate and what your actions had brought. You still didn’t regret them though, because your sight was truly a small price to pay for Nightmare’s life.

That didn’t mean that the adjustment period was easy, and you probably would’ve succumbed to despair more than once if Nightmare hadn’t been by your bedside almost the entire time. Your bedroom was quickly turned into his temporary office, allowing him to continue his work and further his plans while offering you the reassuring touch of a tentacle that always lingered on your arm as proof of his presence.

When your partner was finally comfortable with the idea of you leaving your bed, it was… well, difficult would be putting it mildly. You never once realized just how much you relied on sight for almost everything. It took a day and a bit of you simply wandering around your room to not bump into everything, and even longer to actually be able to navigate by touch. Thankfully, nobody in the castle really cared about your appearance, so you weren’t judged by what clothes you were able to find and put on by yourself.

Your room was about the only place where you could safely be allowed to wander on your own at first. The castle was a confusing labyrinth of pathways and corridors that were already difficult to navigate. Attempts to explore the castle in the past had led to you almost getting lost in some abandoned part of the castle, so there was no way you were even going to try such now. But even the areas that were once familiar to you were now alien as you relied on sound and touch to guide you instead of the sense you so heavily relied on.

For the first while, Nightmare personally escorted you on any walks outside of your room. This was mostly to and from meals, a time where you could practically feel everyone’s eyes on the two of you. Your seat had also been moved towards the head of the table, just to the right of Nightmare. The dark god claimed that it was so that he could assist you should you need help with your meals. Killer was quick to point out how any of them could help you though, teasing that the real reason was simply to stick next to you like “an overprotective boyfriend”. According to Cross, the look on Nightmare’s face had been one of pure murder… even if everyone at the table knew that the idiot was right.

One thing that Killer also nailed was how protective your boyfriend suddenly was. Gone were the days of you having free reign over the castle. Instead, in the instances where he couldn’t personally escort you, one of the others was chosen to be your guide instead. Even as you grew more comfortable heading to the areas you often frequented, the rule didn’t let up. He’d also put a stop to any training or sparring plans you might’ve had, insisting that it was too dangerous to continue when you couldn’t see an attack coming.

While you understood that he did it out of love, that didn’t change how frustrating it was. You already couldn’t read, play cards, or even really cook, the last of the three likely being on the dark god’s ban list had there not been enough obvious difficulty to deter you. Sparring with the guys, while rough, was one of the only hobbies you had left, and you trusted that none of them would seriously hurt you. But Nightmare refused to listen to any arguments you put forward, and none of the others would entertain the idea for fear of their lord’s wrath.

So on top of learning to navigate a world of utter darkness, adapting daily chores to your new limitations, and being treated like you were fragile, you were utterly bored. And as days turned to weeks, your frustrations grew. You were used to everyone simply treating you as one of the crew, albeit one that Nightmare favoured. When you first arrived here, you had to fight for your right to remain and not be turned into dinner. The others had respected you for the most part, and if you wanted to engage in any of their usual antics, they didn’t hesitate to include you. Now though, everyone seemed intent on treating you as if you were some doll, one to be sat on a shelf and never touched. Everyone was suddenly afraid of hurting you, and you were no longer one of the crew. You were something else, above the others now that your relationship with the god of negativity had gotten out. Pyre had even stated that if Nightmare was their king, then that made you their ‘queen’ in a sense. Suddenly, you were set to be a ruler over the dark god’s future empire, and everyone’s views of you shifted because of it.

One choice, one that seemed so infallible before, had turned your whole life upside down. You expected to be injured in place of Nightmare, but not blinded. And while trying to deal with such a severe change of lifestyle, you were now being placed on a pedestal and nobody would treat you the same. Part of you wanted to take your frustrations out on the nearby wall, but that would likely only bring someone running to tend to your hand as if it were broken. No, you needed to go to the source of the problem.

While navigating the halls by yourself was more difficult than you could’ve ever guessed, it was made easier by your forethought to create a mental map through touch whenever you were being escorted about. The subtle change in the sound of your footfall let you know when you’d left the solid foundation of the hall your bedroom was on in favour of the landing for the grand staircase. Following the railing with your hand, you found where the hallway changed directions. To go downstairs would take you to the common room and the kitchens, while upstairs led to the library and Nightmare’s office. With your goal upstairs, you carefully shuffled along the steps, shoving your foot forward until it came in contact with the next. When your feet slid freely along the floor and the railing straightened out, you knew that you’d made it to the third floor where you’d find your partner.

After a bit of difficulty gathering your bearings and navigating the third floor of the castle, you came to Nightmare’s office. The door was open only a crack, enough to give others the hint to leave him be while allowing him to hear if any chaos should erupt from the lower levels. Ever so slowly, you pushed the door open, only to cringe as a painfully loud squeak of the hinges alerted your boyfriend to your presence. “MC? What are you doing up here? Whoever brought you here should know that I didn’t wish to be disturbed.”

“Oh, nobody brought me here, I came up here myself. Wasn’t that hard,” you shrugged, lying a bit at the ease of which you got here but determined to make the dark god see that you weren’t helpless. “We need to talk.”

A sigh emanated from Nightmare’s direction, and you could imagine how he was pinching the bridge of his nose as he often did when annoyed or frustrated with something. “First off, I thought I made it clear that you are to have someone escort you around the castle to minimize accidents. And secondly, can whatever conversation you want wait? I have plenty of-”

“No actually, it can’t,” you cut him off, mustering your confidence as you stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind you. “I need to talk to you now, not later.”

Being unable to read his body language was frustrating, leaving everything to your imagination with no way to know if you were interpreting things correctly. You knew that he didn’t like taking orders from anyone, not even you, leaving you to wonder if the silence was due to your demanding tone. Perhaps you should’ve worded things better, but before you could worry too much, Nightmare responded to your demanding request. “Very well, for you little moon, I will make time. Please, take a seat and share what’s on your mind.”

It took every ounce of focus you had to find one of the plush chairs on the other side of his desk, sinking down into it once you found it and being thankful that you didn’t have to fumble around too much. It wouldn’t do your argument for more independence any good if your actions showed a need for more support. “Alright…” You’d thought long and hard about how to get your point across to someone as stubborn as your partner, but now that you were here, it was almost a struggle to get your thoughts out cohesively. “I… I’m tired of everyone treating me differently ever since the incident, including you.”

“My dear, I’ve done nothing of the sort.”

“Yes you have!” Forcing a breath through your nose, your efforts to calm your temper are marginally successful as your unintentional fists relax and grip the arms of the chair. “Everyone is treating me like I’m suddenly delicate, like I’m unable to take a punch or take care of myself. True, it’s been hard to adjust to being blind, but I’ll never get better at accepting things if you all keep coddling me!”

“No one is coddling you!” Nightmare growled in return, his voice growing more agitated as he tried to argue against you. “The others are simply doing their part to ensure that you can rest and heal in comfort!”

A growl built up in your throat as well as your partner continued to deny your claims, your fingers digging into the chair to keep them in place. “That comment brings up another thing. Ever since our relationship got out, everyone’s been treating me as if they’re serving me, like I’m something special that needs to be protected.”

“That’s because you are, little moon. You are my chosen partner, and you knew from the beginning that the title would carry some weight. I am a god my dear, and the ruler of any mortal within this castle. But you’re no longer some random mortal. Now you stand beside me, equal to me in power and authority. They have merely been instructed to show you the same respect and care that they show me.”

To hear it spelled out like that, like it should’ve been obvious to you from the beginning, left a lump in your throat. Was this always what would happen to you? Were you doomed to be lonely up at the top with nobody but the god of negativity himself to be your supposed equal? “I… I-I don’t want that…” Your words came out mumbled, eyes burning as your damaged tear ducts tried and failed to produce any tears. When prompted to speak up, you were practically screaming. “I don’t want that! I don’t want to be so… so alone! You might be fine with being above them, but for the longest time, they treated me as a friend! Now, it’s as if our friendships meant nothing, whenever I reach out all I get is coldness. I want to be able to joke and play around with Killer, I want Butcher to call me names and tease me! I want Pyre to rattle on about how great he is, or to spend time reading with Dust! I want to be able to go up to Cross, hug the stupid fluffy marshmallow, and not have him feel like a freaking statue!”

Your yelling left you short of breath, your chest heaving as you calmed down from your emotional tirade. For a while, your heavy breathing was the only sound echoing in the room, shoulders eventually shuddering as tearless sobs broke from your throat. Your own arms wrapped around yourself, as if trying to keep yourself from truly falling apart. What you weren’t quite expecting though was for a pair of cool, slimy arms to join them as Nightmare hugged you as well, the god having moved around the desk while you were distracted with your own emotional turmoil.

“I’m sorry little moon,” he started, one hand gently petting your hair while a tentacle took to stroking up and down your back in a soothing manner. “I grew so used to my underlings being just that, and I never considered what your views on the matter would be. Let me make this clear though, they treat you special because you are special. No other entity in the entirety of the multiverse has made me feel an emotion as positive as love since my childhood five hundred years ago. While many of the worlds out there fear me, and even those that serve me do well to avoid angering me, you had no such hesitation my dear. As we grew closer, you grew bolder. You would speak your mind freely, even if to criticize my actions or leadership. While it was downright infuriating at first, I grew to respect your courage and tenacity, but also the fact that you accepted me for who I am and not what I once was several lifetimes ago.”

As he spoke in such a calm and soothing voice, you felt your breathing settle as you snuggled into his chest. After he paused for a bit, Nightmare’s tentacles quickly scooped you up into the air, allowing him to settle in your chair and place you on his lap. The comforting gestures continued, serving to keep you calm without the use of his abilities. “You are special MC, never forget that. But also remember that you are my partner, and I will see you treated with the same respect as I receive, nothing less.”

You couldn’t help but tense at his words, about to go off again about how that flew in the face of your wishes. But before you could reiterate the entirety of your emotional rant from before, he shushed you with a gentle finger against your lips, and you could practically hear him smiling through his voice. “Your voice is as powerful in this castle as my own, and if things are not to your liking, then let your voice be heard. They are so used to hearing my voice that those idiots assume your voice will speak the same requests… even I made that poor assumption, and for that I am sorry. If you wish for them to treat you as they always have, then you need only tell them and I can promise you that you will receive what you ask for.”

“You… you mean it?” It seemed too good to be true, but Nightmare was often true to his word with you and the other residents of the castle. Still, it felt like it was too easy to simply ask for them to treat you as if you weren’t any different.

“Little moon, I swear it upon my name that you will be treated as you wish to be in this castle.” The dark god nuzzled you a bit as he made his promise, pulling a soft giggle from you despite the dry feeling in the back of your throat. It wasn’t often that you shouted so much, and you were definitely glad that you closed the door on your way in.

Deciding to push your luck a bit, another request found its way onto your tongue. “Then… if I asked you to stop forcing me to have an escort everywhere, would you respect my wishes?”

“MC, you know that I am just doing that to protect you-”

“Night, we’re in your domain, aren’t we? You know everyone who enters and leaves, making this castle literally the safest place for me. I’m getting better at navigating without my eyes, and I really think that I’d be fine!” When he still didn’t sound convinced, muttering about potential accidents that could happen, you merely threw more options at him. “Look, I’m far from the first blind human. If you’re that worried about me bumping into something or falling down the stairs, then get me a… blind person stick? Cane? Or a seeing-eye dog! One that Butcher would definitely not eat!”

“Is… this your way of asking for a dog?”

“Not my intention, but I certainly wouldn’t complain if you did actually get me one that can help me.” Reaching up, you cupped his cheek with your hand, thumb rubbing just under his good eye. “I’ll never have the same freedom as I did Night, but I know that I can learn to live with the consequences of my actions. And don’t you dare blame yourself for what I decided was a good idea in the spur of the moment.” Even now knowing the consequences of your choice, you’d still make the same call a hundred times over again, enduring the pain each time, if it meant that you didn’t have to see the one you loved suffer.

The god of negativity must have felt your conviction, because he didn’t try to talk you out of it or turn the blame around to be on himself. Instead, he merely sighed as one hand came to hold the one on his face, pulling it away to place a skeletal ‘kiss’ against your palm. “Very well, it seems that you’ve convinced me. I seem to have chosen quite the precocious human as my mate, you seem to be naturally born for commanding and convincing others. From now on, you are free to roam the castle by yourself, on two conditions. The first is that we give you a means of contacting me directly, should you find yourself lost or injured alone. The second is that you will still accept an escort for any trips outside of the castle, no matter your past familiarity with whatever world. Do we have a deal?”

Honestly, Nightmare’s requests were completely fair and reasonable. While you did have your phone, it was still extremely difficult to navigate it, and you likely wouldn’t be able to use it reliably in an emergency. If your boyfriend had an alternative method, then it would be good to have the freedom to go wherever, but with the safety net of knowing that someone will come if you need them to. And as embarrassing as an escort might be outside of the castle, it was still smart. It took you quite a bit of time and practice to navigate the castle on your own, despite your past familiarity with it, and a new space would require such with the aid of someone who could see. There was also the fact that, now that your relationship was public, it was only a matter of time before one of the idiots that you called your friends would let word get out. Then, you’d have a target on your back, a weak spot to be used against Nightmare. It was honestly for the best if you didn’t leave the castle alone anymore, not with several capable fighters that could protect you. “Those requests both seem quite reasonable to me, so I accept.”

“Good, I am glad that you can see I only want what is best for you, my dear. Keeping you safe is just as important to me as my goals.” After a moment more of cuddles, he eventually set you back into your chair alone, his footfalls indicating that he was going back to his own behind his desk. “I’ll see to the creation of a totem of sorts, one made of my own magic. It will allow you to contact me and call me to your side, no matter where you are. Between this, and my assurance that you will be treated as you wish to be, have I dealt with the issue you came to speak to me about?”

“Mhm, I honestly feel a lot better too, so thanks. I can’t see it, but I’m sure you’ve got plenty of work to get done. I’ll leave you be so that you can get it finished.” When he didn’t try to stop you, you got up from your seat and wandered back towards the door. Just as you opened it though to step back outside, you turned back and sent him a wide smile. “Thank you for being so understanding and accepting Night, I really appreciate it.”

“I can tell,” he chuckled as the sound of pen scribbling on paper echoed through the otherwise quiet room. “You go enjoy yourself my dear, I shall speak with you again at dinner.” With his dismissal, you left the door in the same barely open position that you originally found it in before heading back to the stairs. It was about time for you to do what Nightmare told you to do and make your voice be heard. Then maybe your friends would go back to how they used to be and stop treating you differently.

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Alright, so if you didn’t read my post earlier this week about getting you readers involved, you can read it here because I’m not repeating myself. (aka I’m lazy XD)

And since nobody commented on that post, it made it pretty clear to me that relying on Tumblr comments isn’t a good idea and that I should go with a poll website. So... here ya go!

https://strawpoll.com/634w9bq42

In the next part, Nightmare will be away running important errands, so MC will have to find some way to entertain themselves! Where they go is up to you, as are the result benefits from your choices. I’ll be looking forward to seeing what you all choose!

First | < Prev | Part 4 (Here) | Next >

[intangibly-here]

i miss you (more than anything)

zhongli x gn!reader

- scenario; 2.4k words - modern!au - fluff - jealousy

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zhongli isn’t one for jealousy— usually.

title from mitski - francis forever.

requested by anon.

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“an excellent choice, sir.”

again with the nicknames... 

slender fingers pick up a considerably stylized box, the smooth white a stark contrast to dark, glove-adorned palms. zhongli turns the box over in his hands, inspecting the various fine print explanations splayed along the edges of the plastic. now this is...

BANG!

clink. 

zhongli barely stifles a flinch at the sound of the door slamming, hinges squeaking and metal lock clicking into place with a whirlwind of motion. amber eyes flick up to the doorway, then back down to the polished counter.

five minutes late.

he sets the ice cube he’s handling into a wine glass after a brief pause, beginning to fashion up a flute of apple cider vinegar. the pattering of lively footsteps against tiled flooring rapidly grows nearer, clattering to a halt directly across the bar from where he stands. 

“hey there, mister zhongli! looking just about as boring as ever!”

hu tao plops into the cushioned chair, swiveling back and forth on the seat and leaning forward to watch him pour the concoction.

(it’s designated for customers of course— though that’s only usually. she happens to claim, to his exasperation, that she has “owner privileges”; whatever that could possibly mean when the place itself is meant to serve the needs of customers: that would include the spacing and chairs they may potentially desire when they enter the premises. unfortunately, he’s given up on understanding on her whims.)

from his position across the counter, zhongli absentmindedly spies the edge of a bright-red butterfly wing from underneath her outfit’s loose, flowing sleeves, the simple pendant string looped twice around her wrist. 

swallowtail. 

it’s the name (”like the butterfly, zhongli! the butterfly!”) of the establishment he’s currently employed at and is “run” by the granddaughter of a distant relative (though the bar is legally owned by said relative’s family). due to his— well, rather particular (per say) spending habits and a lack of mindfulness regarding the matter of what they liked to call savings (why would there be a need for these “savings”? he’d like to protest he’s traversed life well enough without them), he’d been pushed into putting the multitude of experience from past jobs into this one. 

and well, here he is now. 

chop. chop. 

two evenly-sliced apple slices tip over from against the blade of the knife and onto the wooden cutting board. fetching a sprig of mint from the small potted plant just below the rack of knives (growing lights and shelving did wonders in the spontaneous lighting of the nightclub), zhongli finished decorating the non-alcoholic drink of choice for the pseudo-proprietress. who knew what havoc she’d cheerfully throw herself into, archons forbid, if it were liquor. she’s already enough of a handful as it is. 

he sighs in resignation and slides the beverage over. the ice tinkles in the glass confines. he does have a favor to ask today after all. hu tao gives the drink a sniff, then puffs her cheeks in mock anger. 

“no alcohol? booooo, you’re such a rock.”

she takes a generous sip anyway. 

“so, what did you call me here for? not very zhongli-like for you to ask something of lil’ ol’ me. archons, have you been replaced?” 

she squints at him judgingly, then raises an eyebrow when he hesitates to answer.

“doesn’t look that way, old man.”

zhongli can feel the beginnings of a headache forming between his brows. he waves his hand dismissingly as if flicking away her babbling nonsense. 

“i have a favor to ask of you.”

“oh-ho?”

hu tao smirks playfully and pushes the half-finished drink aside, craning her neck forward. 

“what can i do for our esteemed mister zhongli, hm? hehe.”

zhongli clenches his fist under the edge of the woodwork in an effort to calm his raging annoyance. 

(it doesn’t help.)

he should just ask, shouldn’t he..?

“..i’ve been pondering this for a number of days now, but nothing quite appropriate for the occasion has happened to come to mind... do you happen to have any gift ideas for...”

he looks to the side to avoid eye contact and trails off, but hu tao immediately gets the memo. 

“ohhh..” her smile only grows wider, “this is for your daaaate—”

zhongli’s face flushes the slightest tinge of rosy pink and he hisses a sharp “shush!” through gritted teeth. and here he had thought she couldn’t get on his nerves beyond how she’d already acted thus far... 

the cheshire grin on her face still continues to climb. 

“well, you’ve definitely asked the right person! how about...”

some new polaroid film? is what she had proposed.

“it’s not some fancy-schmancy anniversary gift, no? just a date! a date! don’t worry yourself so much over it— no, don’t look at me like that. if you called me over to ask about it, you’re deeeefinitely losing hair over this— okay, okay, i got it! don’t kick me out! old man... sheesh. why don’t you get some more polaroid film and wrap it up all nice? useful and an excuse to take more pictures together! i know, i know, i’m a genius— mmph!”

he can still hear her voice bouncing around in his head (”can’t believe you’re getting rid of your boss, mister zhongli! didn’t take you for the rebellious type—”). zhongli brings his hand up to his temple and breathes out another sigh. it’s not like her idea was a terrible one; if anything, it were a wonderfully exquisite proposal— not that he would tell her. 

“i’d like to purchase this, if you would.”

he hands the box over to the shopkeep, who scans the package and rings up the bill. indiscreetly, he feels up the pocket of his jacket. thank the archons he remembered his wallet today. it would certainly be embarrassing to put this particular item on your tab. 

“sure thing, mister zhongli. i’m assuming this is a gift,” they eye him knowingly, “so would you like it wrapped up?” 

deja vu, his brain mutters, this is very much deja vu. he shuts it up promptly. 

“not this time, but you have my sincerest thanks for the offer. i’d like to wrap it myself.” he can feel his (generally..) expressionless face flaring up the faintest hint of pink and berates his mind once more. only when it comes to you...

acquiring the purchased item, zhongli dips his head in acknowledgement as he heads out. the plants hanging from baskets strung along the ceiling sway their leaves to and fro, nearly catching a wayward lock of his hair. he smooths the stray strand back.

“thank you once again, aether. let lumine know they can drop by for some tea again whenever they’d like for me, please.”

the bell hanging over the doorway tinkles when he pushes it open, and the bustle of the busy harbor seeps into the tranquility of the shop. aether nods and waves a hand at him in return, resting an arm on the cash register. 

“come again.”

-

while he’d imagined many ways your planned outing could play out, this was certainly not one of them. 

he’s approaching the meeting spot you two had decided on (right in front of the flowering quince tree near the park; its blooms resemble those of simpler, smaller silk flowers, and it happens to be quite the scenic location to wait) when he spies not only your stature, but another figure residing right besides you. 

who...?

as he steps closer, he can hear your laughter, the kind that he knows bubbles out of your chest and escapes your lips unconsciously. your amusement isn’t lost on your companion apparently, because they smirk teasingly, letting out a full-blown laugh of their own. 

“oh, zhongli, over here!”

your voice snaps him out of his meandering thoughts, and he stops fiddling with his earring (when did he start doing that?), continuing forward from where he’d paused in his observations of this newcomer. something starts to bloom in his chest, small and bittersweet. he’s not sure what to make of it. 

following your beckoning, zhongli finally makes his way to your side, mentally taking note of your.. friend? he doesn’t remember you mentioning anyone like this before though. surely he would remember your friends, no? 

his earring sways in the wind, white tassel fluttering cheerfully. 

“zhongli, this is my friend kaeya. i met him when i made that trip to mondstadt awhile back, remember that? oh, and kaeya, this is my boyfriend zhongli.”

(the little dragon curled up in his heart preens at your introduction of him, small and sweet.) 

ice blue meets molten gold when zhongli’s eyes dart up to make eye contact with this stranger. they squint at him, assessing, then dip into the makings of a playful twinkle. a hand reaches out for a handshake, which he returns in equal measure. interesting...

“he got a little lost touring liyue and i happened to see him here in the park. small world, huh? i know it was our day love, but do you mind if we take him around for today?”

zhongli smiles appeasingly, gentle and assuring as always. he can recognize the slightly nervous look on your face, one that’s a stark contrast to how energetic you’d looked just a few minutes ago. if kaeya’s company makes you happy and you’d like to take him around, then who is he to refuse your request? you two will have more time to spend with just the two of you later, he reasons with himself. accompanying your friend, and in turn his acquaintance, is nothing big.

(and no, it’s certainly not you calling him love that makes him cave.)

“of course we can.”

tugging at the string of his eyepatch, kaeya swiftly ties his hair back and adjusts the collar of his shirt. “so, where to first?”

zhongli takes your hand in his, squeezing softly. you squeeze back.

getting along together should come just fine.

-

he takes it back. 

he takes it all back. 

he’d accepted it at first because, well, this was your friend. he shouldn’t be controlling who you interact with nor who befriended you - that’s not up to him. it shouldn’t ever be. however—  with every passing moment that kaeya inched closer to you, taking up the entirety of your attention and bringing that bright, bright grin to your face—

(this was supposed to be your date. just the two of you. he hasn’t seen you in a month; surely he can feel a bit selfish, right?)

the three of you turn the corner to an intricately-themed restaurant and pause, where even zhongli looks appreciatively at the beautifully grown bamboo stalks lining the edges of its front walls. 

“wanmin restaurant,” kaeya reads, craning his neck up to gaze at the signboard. bold red calligraphy is sprawled across the rough-cut wood. “awfully simple name for such a stunning place, isn’t it?”

if he weren’t stewing in a pot of conflicted emotions, zhongli would surely inform him of how carefully selected this title was, how it represented more than just a name, how it hid at least several decades worth of effort and teachings— but as it is, he (really, of all people) has no patience for that at the moment. 

first tugging on the hem of your outfit, zhongli then takes you by the elbow and hastily leads you forward to the glass doors of the establishment. he grasps your hand in his as usual, but something must be off, because you twitch a little and look at him curiously. 

he turns his head away, lips pursed just the slightest.

“let us dine here for the time being. it is an appropriate time and place, after all.”

the sun shines brightly in the clear sky as if illuminating his words.

kaeya raises an eyebrow, singular eye looking on inquisitively and arms crossed, then moves further ahead of you both once more. the corner of his mouth dips in a clear show of mirth. bowing with one arm held at the waist, one not unalike a formality from a server, he looks straight into zhongli’s eyes and holds the door open for entrance. 

“that sounds like an excellent idea. well, if you would.”

-

“thanks for the tour around you two.”

kaeya hums his thanks with a cheerful lilt to his voice as you all stand under the porchlight of zhongli’s house. 

(it’s not the largest abode, but it’s cozy and sweet, and it’s definitely enough for the both of you whenever you decide to stay over. tonight is one of those nights, and they may as well become more frequent after the trip you took abroad.) 

his car keys reflect the glow of the bulb, swinging around his finger in loops. they clink noisily, metal against metal, and he grabs them all at once, halfway through another turn. in his car sits a box of treasure-themed artifacts, likely old and had found its way into your hands somehow. zhongli knows you’d been meaning to give them to someone, but he hadn’t known it were kaeya— either way, the artifacts that’d been laying on his shelves for weeks were now handed off. 

ruffling your hair, kaeya pulls you in for a brief hug; although zhongli can feel the bitter pang in his chest, he stays where he stands, keeps it still and small. he can wait. 

that said, the moment kaeya drives off, he’s hauling you into the house and curling up on the couch, pulling you onto his lap and tugging you into his arms. the long thought over gift sits patiently on the counter. it’s waited the entirety of today; it can wait another. 

right now, he needs you. 

your body sinks against his, relaxing from the lively, though exhausting, day. slumped against his chest, he burrows his head in the crook of your shoulder and cuddles you, nuzzling into your neck. finally, you’re home. home with him. 

it’s warm...

“..it was our day...”

you shift your head at his mumbling, lifting his chin to presumably look at his expression. your attention is his now. not kaeya’s. not anyone else’s. just his. 

(his eyes are soft and droopy, smudged red making them look especially mellow in the dim lighting, and lips pushed into the slightest pout. he knows what you’re seeing when you gaze at him fondly, and you can almost see the puppy eyes he sports. how unusual of him.)  

“someone’s a little jealous here, hmmm?” 

you drag out the syllables teasingly, and from lips that are pressing kisses against your skin, he responds a little muffled—

“perhaps.”

[belphies-cuhm-sluht]

hello! can I please request an angst fic with Satan losing control and getting angry at the MC because they made a deal with someone and is willing to give up their life just to bring Lilith back for the brothers? and yes Satan is in love but he just didn't tell them yet! thank you so much for opening requests, can't tell you how much I adore your writings <3

Not Your Choice To Make (Satan x GN!MC Angst) 

What had he done to deserve you? What had any of his brothers done to deserve someone like you? You were caring, always so happy, and you were selfless. So, so selfless. As if any of them deserved a person like you in their lives, and he knew that the answer was no. You were the kind of human who’s name went on the reservation list to Heaven as soon as you were born. Apparently the big man upstairs had a plan for everyone, and your plan had been set in motion the day that you were brought into the world. Had God known what you were going to do though? Did he know that you would end up down here? If so, why would he allow it? What kind of God was he to allow you to be brought into such a horrid place, the worst place, biblically speaking? It didn’t make sense, and now… now everything was messed up because you were good… you were too good. You should have never been brought here. 

He had never even met his sister, but he knows that his brothers adored her, they loved her, and they missed her dearly, especially Beelzebub and Belphegor. Even with all that, it wasn’t your problem to fix, it wasn’t your problem to solve. Every single one of them loved Lilith, but every single one of them loved you as well, some more than others, although he’d never be able to tell you. “What do you mean you made a deal with someone to bring her back? Y/N, that is… that is the stupidest thing… Do you even remember who you talked to?” He was trying to stay calm, he really was, but this situation alone had him filled with rage, and his Avatar had nothing to do with it at all. How could you do something like that? To them… to him? It was so selfishly selfless, so careless. “Satan… I was just trying to do the right thing. I know how much everyone misses her and-” His head was shaking so fast, his hands balled up into tight fists as he tried to get your words out of his head. 

“Everyone? Everyone misses her… you’re right. But do you have even the slightest inkingly of an idea how much we’d miss you? Losing you would be like losing her all over again to them.” Losing you would be the worst thing to ever happen to himself though. He’s never gone through loss, he’s never experienced the pain that comes along with it. That’s why he has to fix this as soon as possible. “Please calm down… the guy said that-” He let out a low growl, holding his hand up to silence you. He didn’t want to hear what the guy said, he just wanted this problem fixed. He wanted it solved, and as much as he hated to do it, he went to the only other person in the entire Devildom who could possibly help him. 

The doors to Lucifer’s office were almost thrown off the hinges when Satan burst through them, pulling you along behind him. “Yes, Satan? If this is about something Mammon did, I don’t have-” Satan didn’t appreciate it, the way that Lucifer refused to even look up from his stupid paperwork to aknowledge him. He wouldn’t be bursting through the doors if it was a Mammon problem, hell, at this point he even wished it was a Mammon problem so he could handle it himself. “It’s not Mammon. It’s Y/N.” That got his attention real quick, his head snapping up from his desk to look at you, the way you stood behind Satan shyly, almost embarrassed… what could have happened? You didn’t look harmed, you didn’t look scared, even with the way that Satan was acting. “What’s wrong?” 

You didn’t want to reiterate the story, it would just take too long, and Satan actually agreed. There was no time to waste, and your reasoning, in his eyes, and hopefully in his brothers eyes as well didn’t justify your actions, as nice as they may have been. “She made a deal… with some guy that she doesn’t even know the name of… to bring Lilith back…” It was hard for him to even get the words out, they were upsetting, and they pissed him off. What you did pissed him off more than anything, but not because he was actually mad at you… he was mad at himself for letting you out of his sight long enough to even let something like this happen. Lucifer’s eyes were wide as he stared at you, his adams apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed hard, trying to let what Satan had told him sink in. “To bring… she can’t come back anyway… no one can bring her back. She’s… she’s dead. She’s been dead. Everyone knows that.” Everyone should know that. Of course, you didn’t… you didn’t know that at all, or else you wouldn’t have made a deal with the random demon in the first place. “Wh-What did you offer… to this demon, if I may ask.” Lucifer wasn’t the kind of guy to stutter, he never got tripped up on his words, but now he felt like he was on a race against time to get to the bottom of this, to sort all of this out. He needed to know every single detail, and this is the part that got Satan’s attention as well. He hadn’t heard about the actual… transaction, if you can call it that. He had only heard about why you did it. 

“I offered.. My uh… my soul… my life…” The tension is the room was palpable, but so thick. The growl that had come out of Satan earlier was nothing compared to this. His Avatar was in full play now, his rage spurred on by this tornado of emotions that his body just couldn’t handle. How could anyone be able to handle this? “Oh no…” Was all Lucifer had to say as he fell back in his chair, dropping his face into his hands as he shook his head. That didn’t seem to help though, not at all. The next thing you knew, Satan was storming out of the office and up the stairs into his room, slamming his door shut, the force behind it was enough to rattle the pictures on the walls downstairs. “I just thought I could bring her back… I didn’t know…” 

The books that were stacked up on his floor were all kicked over, scattered across the room as he broke down. “This is why humans don’t belong here… Y/N doesn’t belong here… never did.” But he knows that his life without you having come in it would have been dull, boring and depressing. He loved you, he loves you… but what’s the point in all of that now? What’s the point in having feelings for you, of ever having feelings for you? It wasn’t fair, not to you, not to him, and not to his brothers. “Wasn’t their choice to make…” He was mumbling to himself now as he fell back onto his bed, his hands covering his face, hoping that nobody would come into his room, but if they did, he would have time to wipe the stray tears that trickled down the corners of his eyes. There was no way to undo this, the deal had already been made. Even if they killed the guy, he would just end up back in Hell, and he would inevitably come at some point to retrieve your soul. You wouldn’t end up back in the Devildom though, you’d spend what would feel like forever in Purgatory, or stuck in limbo until the big man up in the clouds made a final decision on where you belong. 

“Maybe if we just find him-” You were still down in Lucifer's office, trying to find ways to fix this, to make it all just go away. Every suggestion was turned down, and you didn’t know whether he was just becoming irritated with your list of “possible solutions” or if he was just exhausted. This whole thing was draining, because at the end of it all, Lucifer himself knew that there was nothing he could do to solve the problem at hand. “You don’t understand, Y/N. Demons aren’t simple, you must already know that much. They’re malicious and mischievous. They’ll do anything to make a deal, especially with someone as pure hearted as you are. Every demon down here knows about Lilith, and every single one of them already knows she can’t be brought back. Whoever he was, he took advantage of your kindness, and there is nothing that can be done about it. I’m sorry.” He shook his head, hating that he had to lay it out to you like that, but you needed to know. You were always so hopeful, that’s what got you stuck in this predicament in the first place, but there was no hope to be had, not anymore. 

“Well… can’t we just get Lord Diavolo to find the guy…? Can’t he do something?” It was obvious that you were trying to hold back from crying because, like any normal person, you were terrified of dying, as you should be. This is why you don’t just run around the Devildom making deals with any random demon. Hell, you could have gone to one of them and asked, and they would have told you that what you were asking for is impossible. “No. I’ve already thought of that. It would spark issues, and our Lord wouldn’t want those kinds of issues to fall on his shoulders. Taking a deal away from a demon for one measly human, no offense… it would piss a whole lot of them off. I’m sorry.” He pushed himself up and away from his desk, walking around it to stand in front of you, grabbing your hands and pulling you up so he can look down at you. “Satan needs you right now… You should go be with him.” 

Satan… he did need you. He needed you more than anything, not just right now, but always. You helped him, more than he’d like to admit, more than he’d ever admit. Whenever he was around you he felt like he had better control of himself, he felt like he could actually be happy. With you, he even questioned whether his Avatar should be wrath, because you washed away any ounce of anger he had in his body, or at least, you made him forget about it for the time being. Satan… who, when you finally entered his room again, was curled in on himself, apparently finally having broken down and fallen asleep while he was crying. He hadn’t even lost you not, not completely, but the feeling was there, it was distant at the moment, but it felt like it was growing larger the closer that it came. “Hey… It’s gonna be okay…” Your voice jolted him out of his sleep, his eyes bloodshot as they opened and looked up at you, and while he wanted to be angry at your hopeful statement, he couldn’t even find it in him. Had he used up all of his anger already? No.. that couldn’t be it. No.. it was just that… the only thing you could be was hopeful, just as he was. Hopeful that there would be some way to sort this all out, to make it seem like it never happened. There had to be a miracle. God might not be on their side, but you were still human, he had to be looking out for you, right? “Yeah… it’s all gonna be okay…” He hated lying to you, at least, it felt like he was lying, because in the moment, he wasn’t exactly sure that anything would be okay, and nothing would be “okay” if you actually died. So, just like you, he was holding onto what tiny thread of hope you both had left. It’s all he could do, it’s all any of you could do. 

He pulled you down onto his bed with him, holding you close against his chest, and although he, for once, didn’t have anything to say… he hoped that his actions spoke for him. It wouldn’t be fair to tell you that he loved you now, you probably wouldn’t believe him if he did. You would tell him that he was just speaking out of fear, and while you would probably be right in the fact that he was saying it in that moment because he was scared, it wouldn’t mean that the feelings weren’t true. So he held you, tighter than he’d ever held anyone else, tighter than he had ever held you before. Maybe if he kept you close, nobody would be able to get to you… maybe… 

“My Lord… I need you to get Barbatos to do something for me… for all of us… please.” Lucifer mumbled into the phone line. It was a last ditch effort, one that he hoped would work, because if it didn’t, he’d have to go higher… way higher. It was the only way, not just to protect you, but to protect Satan, to protect all of them from feeling that kind of pain again.

[malfoymuch]

if it is a dream [draco malfoy; soulmate au]

Pairing; Draco x Reader,, Pansy x Draco (friends),, Pansy x Reader (friends),, Pansy x Theodore

Genre; Fluff? Overall, yeah...

Word Count; 3.5k+ (with extra)

Request; @andreasworlsboring101

Warnings; unedited

“Draco! Draco, dearie, can you come here, please?” Draco’s mother, Narcissa called from the main room of their Manor. Draco bolted down the stairs, throwing his toys onto the bed as he skipped down the stairs, his hair swept messily to one side as he straightened himself in front of his mother.

“Yes, mommy?” Draco asked, brightly grinning up at his mother as he watched her near him, smiling as she fixed his hair.

“Your hair, Draco. It’s a mess. You’re lucky you’re father isn’t paying attention,” she lightly scolded, though Draco knew that she didn’t mean it-- it just meant that he had to be more proper and presentable at times when his father was around.

“Draco, my boy. We wanted to give you something, or at least show you at least,” his mother whispered, kneeling down and gasping her son’s shoulders softly, grinning at him. “We think you’re old enough to be responsible, aren’t you, my boy?”

“Of course I am, mum. I’m a big boy,” Draco announced, puffing out his chest eliciting a heartfelt laugh from her. She nodded, her lips tugged high into a smile.

“Draco.” His father’s voice boomed, startling both Draco and his mother for a second before they greeted him happily.

“Your mother and I thought it was time to present you with this,” Lucius handed his son an ebony wooden box, intricate designs hand-carved throughout the box, all leading to the lock. His father then handed him what seemed to be the key, and suddenly, Draco began to feel his hands tremble as he turned it counter-clockwise until he heard a faint ‘click.’

Gulping, his hands came to the top of the box, and pushed it back, until the hinges fully supported it. His eyes immediately scanned the inside, until his eyes landed on a ring.

Draco picked it up gently, terrified that he’d drop it. The ring was too, delicately sophisticated. The band was twisted and cool, the texture and pattern reminding Draco of a snake; he soon noticed the snake’s head, curved over the prong, until his eyes finally landed on the head of the ring. There, was the Malfoy’s family crest, surrounded with a backdrop of black with pristine and steady strokes of emerald. He was captivated, swirling the ring in his hand.

“It’s our family heirloom,” his mother had told him, “The ring will attach itself and hold on to your soulmate, the one you’re destined to be with.” His eyes grew in disbelief as he stared at his mother, his eyes sparkling.

“Is it true? Soulmates? Do they really exist?”

“Of course, my boy. It’s a very special ring, so you must promise that you won’t lose it.” Lucius’ voice reasoned, staring down at his son softly. “One day you’ll find them… a soulmate or whoever you wish to propose to,” his father explained further.

“But it’s not something to play around with, and randomly put on people’s fingers, it must be taken care of. It’s our family’s, after all.” Draco nodded as he put the ring on his ring finger, feeling the ring begin to tighter around his finger, the snake staring at him cheekily before resting back on the prong.

A sudden knock startled Draco before his mother ushered him out of the room happily.

“Hurry! That must be the (L/N)’s!” His mother announced, Draco smiling as he could hear giggles from the other side of the door. Opening it widely, he waved excitedly at you, waiting patiently for your parents to greet each other and come inside. As soon as they did, he tugged his mother’s dress, pleadingly looking into her eyes.

“Mother, can I play with (Y/N) before we eat? Just for a little bit?” He begged hurridly as he bounced a bit, knowing that his mother would probably agree, whereas his father would’ve refused based on his behavior. She sighed, before slowly nodding.

“Okay, but just for a little bit, all right? Supper will begin any minute now,” she rushed, making Draco grin. He pulled you along with him, running up the stairs before his father could realize where they were going. Closing the door to his room, he turned back at you, pointing at his hand.

“You won’t believe what I just got!” He whisper-screamed to you, watching as your eyes light up as you grabbed his hand to get a better look at it.

“A ring?”

“Not just any ring, (Y/N). It’s supposed to lead me to my soulmate… if they put the ring on and it doesn’t come off, they’re destined to be with me.” Automatically, you grabbed the ring and stared at it, before Draco pushed your hand away, shocked.

“What’re you doing!?”

“I wanna tryyyyyyy, pleaseeeeeeee.” You nagged, “I wanna be your soulmate, Draco.” Draco shook his head, moving his head behind his back as he stepped away from you.

“No, not yet, I’m too young.” He retorted childishly, his cheeks filled with air as he looked away from you, his face turning pink. You gasped, before grabbing his hands with yours.

“Then promise me then!”

“Promise you what?” He asked almost immediately, afraid of what you’d say.

“Promise we that in ten years from now, I’ll get to try it on! To see if I’m your soulmate or not!”

“And if we’re not?” He asked concerned, raising his eyebrow at you as you bit your bottom lip, in deep thought, until another idea sparked. “Then if neither of us finds our soulmate by a certain point, we’ll marry each other.”

“Are you insane? I can’t just marry my best friend!”

“Of course you can, people do it all the time. Most people were best friends before they were a couple, Draco. Or at least, that’s what my parents always say,” you finished with a shrug of your shoulders.

“If you don’t want to, though, it’s fine.” Draco watched as you failed to keep yourself happy, your expression slowly turning saddened and bleak. His heart tugged a bit as he growled under his breath, intertwining his tiny fingers with yours.

“Fine! Ten years from now, we’ll be… sixteen? Seventeen? We’ll do it then,” Draco shouted, stunned that your expression had altered so quickly, hugging him tightly before pushing him away.

“Pinky-promise?”

“Yeah, sure. Pinky-promise.” He groaned, lacing his pinky with yours before the calls from both your parents were heard from bellow.

“We should probably get going,” he stated, making you nod. As you both hustled down the stairs, you quickly whispered.

“Remember, you can’t break a pinky-promise, or I’ll be mad.”

Draco and you had been friends from as long as he could remember, probably since birth, honestly. The two of you were constantly clinging onto one another, whether it was for comfort or to simply annoy the other… you both were inseparable as the years dragged on.

—————

“Draco Lucius Malfoy! It’s time!” You scolded at him, attempting to tackle him to the ground in order to steal the piece of jewelry on his finger. He dodged at the last possible second, however, grinning from ear-to-ear as he watched you trip.

“Better luck, next time, love.” He teased, sticking his tongue out and playfully sending a wink your way. You immediately flushed bright red, blowing away a strand of your hair before charging towards him once again.

“Draco Malfoy! You made a promise that I get to try on the ring! Let me, already!” You scolded, your finger jabbing into his chest as you tried to reach for his hand, but he seemed to be much quicker as he waved it in all directions. He then took the initiative to remove the ring from his fingers, placing it in the palm of his hand and tauntingly waving it in your face, before extending his hand as high as he could.

“I don’t see why you’re so obsessed with this ring, (Y/N). Or the promise, you should be focused on something else,” he tried to persuade, knowing that you weren’t listening to a word he said. “Besides, it hasn’t officially been ten years, since then… you still have another month or so.”

“Oh shut up, will you? Just give me it!” You interjected, jumping to try and grab his hand. He twirled around you and smirked, ruffling his hair as he steadied the ring back on his finger.

“Unfortunately, class begins soon… guess you’ll have to try later--” his sentence was cut off short as he began to run, you trailing behind him in a frenzy towards your class; his laughs echoed the hallways as students made sure to clear a path, avoiding eye-contact with him and you (pretty much because you threatened to hex anyone who got in the way as you were running).

----------

Normally, you wouldn’t have even batted an eyelash towards his heirloom, or bring it up in a conversation. But as the day got closer, it kind of started to bring a sense of uneasiness to you… the promise. The scenarios playing in your mind as you slept, or daydreamed through some of your classes.

But it made you think. For once, it was odd. To imagine your future as a sixteen-soon-to-be-seventeen-year-old, nonetheless with your best friend. He must’ve thought it wasn’t big, but it definitely was to you. You weren’t an idiot at the age of seven, you knew what you were getting into when you made that promise. Hell, you even wrote it in a little journal you had afterward, it wasn’t hard to deny it. You fancied Draco.

For years, so the thought of being his soulmate made you feel excited and absolutely terrified. Pansy had often reassured that all would work out, and things would pan out the way it should… but it still bothered you. As much as you tried not to, it was the only thought that remained.

Maybe I should just forget about it, he’s probably someone in mind anyway, you thought as you slumped in your chair, it wouldn’t have been the first.

“Hey! (Y/N), are you even paying attention?” Pansy nudged your shoulder, asking through her teeth, her eyes widening as she forced you to look down into your textbook before the professor noticed you were spacing out.

“Still obsessing over Draco?” She whispered, resulting in a bitter laugh to emit from you. Pansy had had an overwhelming obsession with Draco for the first few years until one day, it seemed the message of him not reciprocating her feelings had become clear, and then she changed.

Much better, if you were being honest. She had her own personal glow-up and was focused much more on devoting time reflecting and helping you.

“Maybe you should pretend to lose interest? That might make him give it up,” she suggested, “Or just steal it from him? You know, unexpected--”

“How am I supposed to steal it? It’s on his finger, Pansy,” you jeered, continuing to write utter nonsense in your notebook as you stared at it with intent, hearing her sigh loudly. “I don’t know, but you have to do something, maybe even tell him… ever given that a thought?” She questioned, staring at you concerningly as you shifted under her gaze uncomfortably, trying to stir your attention away from anything but the topic at hand.

“I don’t know…” you dragged on, making eye-contact with Draco from across the classroom, seeing him happily sending you a smile; you tried your best to return the favor, however, it seemed a bit forced, causing Draco’s to waver.

Oh, bloody hell…

“Well, now he knows something’s up,” Pansy piqued, giving you a knowing gaze as she gave a quick glance at him, before grabbing your hand to prevent you from writing any longer. “You have to do something, I’m not saying you should steal the ring or stalk him, but do what your heart tells you to do, when the time comes.” You smiled softly as you grabbed her hand, uttering a sincere ‘thank you’ before returning to your work.

Pansy gazed back up at Draco, seeing his concerned gaze towards you before mouthing to Pansy a series of phrases, and answering them swiftly before you had the chance to notice.

-------------

Draco had no idea what was going on with you. One minute, you were giddy and incredibly engaged in your own world, the next you were shouting at him about his promise and the ring, and then you give him a pathetic attempt of smiling at him… and suddenly he had no clue what was going on with you.

He’d been talking to Pansy lately about the issue, but she’d either reassure that everything would be fine or give the curt response: “Go ask for yourself”

Normally, Draco would’ve given a snarky response back, but she’d always managed to run away before he could press on more about you.

“What happened to (Y/N), Pansy?” He asked through gritted teeth, “You make this so much harder than it has to be.” Pansy raised a brow at him, amused, twirling the strands of her hair with her finger.

“Someone’s not happy…” she taunted before shrugging her shoulders. “Unfortunately, I can’t tell you.”

“Why not? Aren’t you her best friend?”

“Aren’t you?” Pansy countered quickly, watching Draco’s mouth hung open, before closing silently. “You two have known each other longer than I have; if you think something’s wrong ask (Y/N) yourself.”

“I can’t if (Y/N) won’t talk to me,” he pressed on, staring at his friend’s eyes as he grabbed her wrists. “Please, I need to know--”

“Draco, do you fancy (Y/N)?” Pansy inquired, removing his hands off of her, settling them back on her lap as she stared at him knowingly. Draco frantically shook his head at her, ruffling his hair in the process.

“Where did that question even come from, Pansy? Have you gone mad--”

“No. But it seems you will, soon. Why won’t you let (Y/N) try on the ring? A Malfoy sticks by their word, don’t they?”

Draco’s mouth became instantly dry, struggling to form any coherent sentence as his ears began to grow bright. Pansy’s eyes glimmered in realization.

“You’re afraid (Y/N) isn’t the one, aren’t you?” Draco remained silent as she titled her head to meet his gaze, to which his gaze moved away again. “Or are you afraid (Y/N) is the one?”

“You’re deranged, Parkinson.”

“Perhaps I am, but the one thing I’m not Draco… is a coward.” She grunted, resulting in Draco staring up at her, shocked. Pansy was a female that often spoke her mind and criticized others, but not him. She certainly changed.

“You’ve been friends for ages, Draco. And even when I was too “preoccupied” with you I still knew it; (Y/N) won’t be around forever, and if you don’t act soon someone will sweep them off their feet because that’s what they deserve. And you’ll never know the truth,” Pansy flicked his forehead, making Draco whine at the impact. “You’re incredibly dense, sometimes. I wonder what I saw in you…” Draco’s eyes trailed down to the floor, before a sudden laugh shook, startling him.

“But I know (Y/N) sees it… saw it longer than I had, maybe… besides, I got myself… someone. So go get yours.” Draco’s eyes stared up at his long friend, staring at her both thankful and apologetic.

“Oh stop with the sappy look, will you? I’m not telling you to confess and I’m not asking for pity. But when the time comes… do it.”

————

A few weeks had passed since then, and your nerves had remained calmer than ever. It seemed Pansy was right, and being able to dial down on your turmoil was as simple as clearing your mind… from all of the thoughts of his heirloom.

Of course, you took that route. Instead of confessing to him… and Pansy had egged you to pursue him while respecting your decision. It just seemed easier, you noted, to distract yourself for a while.

“Why are you spacing off, again? Someone caught your eye?” Draco quipped, staring down at you. You rolled your eyes as you readjusted yourself on his lap, giving him an irritated look.

“Does it matter? Even if I was, it’s none of your business,” you ended while sticking out your tongue, noticing Draco’s eyes had slightly clouded at your remark.

“I should probably leave soon, Umbridge will be scouting soon…” Draco murmured, as you let out a frustrated growl.

“Oh yes! The sadist, who only lives to ruin student’s lives… I find it concerning that she’s so fascinated in kids…” you whispered the last part, Draco letting out a hearty laugh. “Pipe it down, I heard she has eyes and ears everywhere,” he added on, the both of you snickering.

“Watch out, she might hide under your bed too, I wouldn’t put it past her.” Draco grabbed your hand and squeezed it as he let out another laugh, the cool metal of his ring sending a shiver down your spine. As it died down, he released your hand, before his eyes traveled down to his hand, and his ring. He removed his other hand cradling your head and removed the hoop slowly.

“Here, a deal’s a deal.” You let out a huff, knitting your eyebrows as he dropped the ring into your hands.

“Why so suddenly… well, I guess I’ll try it. After all, you’ll probably be getting it back.” The statement broke your heart, but in reality, it seemed fit to say. And Draco cracked a smile, so he must’ve been hoping it to happen too.

Sliding the ring on your finger, another shiver sent down your spine, your eyes lost in the details of the loop. Your breath hitched suddenly as you paused your movements, watching for something to happen. A sign.

Looking up, you saw Draco staring just as intensely as you had at your hand, the curves of his mouth downward and grim.

“See? I told you,” you sighed, reaching for the ring again and attempting to tug at it.

Attempting.

However, as you tried, you realized you couldn’t take it off.

“Uh… Draco? Can… Can you give me a hand?” You pleaded nervously, his eyes widening as he adjusted his position, panicked.

“Yeah, of course.” He responded, gently grabbing your hand in his, his fingers hanging over the ring, deep in thought, before he dropped it, staring at you.

“(Y/N)... it won’t come off,” he said quietly, a small smile dancing on his features.

“How would you know? You didn’t even try,” you tried to defend, grabbing the ring again and tugging it. This time, the ring had gotten looser, only for the snake to hiss at you, its jade eyes leering. You removed your hand almost instantly, letting the creature hum in content before slithering itself around you again, this time, a bit tighter than before.

“This has to be a dream, it can’t be real… can it?” You gaped, thinking that you were daydreaming again. Hallucinating maybe?

“I don’t think it’s a dream,” Draco started, his thumb playing with the ring on your finger, a bright smile plastered on his face as he stared (almost) lovingly at it. “But if it is…” he intertwined his fingers with yours, staring into your eyes with a lovestruck gaze.

“I don’t ever want to wake up.” He paused, before leaning down to capture your lips with his.

“I think it’s better than any dream, actually.”

Extra:

Months later, your head was resting on Draco’s shoulder, as he seemed to be engaged in a conversation with the boy across from him; Theodore Nott, Pansy’s boyfriend, who looked to be a decently charming Slytherin, though he was extremely opinionated with whatever they were conversing about.

“Sorry for asking, but I’ve been a bit curious about the ring on (Y/N)’s finger?” Theodore suddenly inquired, making you lift your head up to see Draco had been playing with the ring on your finger the whole time, twirling it rhythmically.

“Oh, isn’t it obvious? We’re engaged.” He smirked deviously, a gasp coming from you as you pushed him away, laughing. “Yeah right--”

“Aren’t we?”

“You didn’t even propose!”

“Don’t you have a ring? I can’t give you another one, this one isn’t coming off--”

“You didn’t ask and we’re still in school! Plus it’d be nice if you at least made the effort to ask--”

“Do you want me to ask? I can do it, plan it out if you want…It’s not like my parents would disapprove… my mother’s absolutely smitten for you.”

“That sounds nasty.”

“You know what I meant by that.”

“Even cuter, Theo, they’re soulmates…” Pansy whispered to him, as both of you bickered with one another. Theodore nodded in understanding, leaning down to Pansy’s ear. “I assume you helped… I don’t think Draco wouldn’t have done it anytime soon otherwise.”

“I can hear you,” Draco announced, pink dusting his cheeks as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, “And I would’ve eventually… though I’m glad Pansy helped…”

“Of course I had to,” Pansy smiled proudly, “And look how it turned out. I’m great at what I do.”

“You mean not minding your own business?”

“DRACO!”

———

Permanent Tags;

@amberkay284

[nalu4emily]

The Unexpected Reward - Chapter 16

Summary:  Natsu and Lucy go on a job together, but what they bring home is something neither anticipated. Forced to make a life changing decision, they have to adapt quickly, but that's never easy, especially given the circumstances. As they work together on their toughest adventure yet, they find themselves drawn to one another, in ways they never realised. Nalu/cute/fluff

Rated M for a reason!

"Hey, old lady! Open up!" The slayer bellowed through the tiny keyhole, beating the same spot on the large, ornate door repeatedly with his fist. "I know you're in there; I can smell you!"

"Go away, boy! I don't like visitors!" The occupant shouted from the other side, infuriating the dragon further.

He hammered his fist harder, determined to get some answers. There was no way he was turning back, not after running all this way. He'd kick the door in if he had to.

Haru, who was tucked into his arms, didn't seem to mind the small detour, or the loud clattering and yelling. He was perfectly content playing with anything he could get his hands on, namely Natsu's clothing. The occasional "Mama" or "Dada" would escape him but he mostly babbled nonsense to himself.

"At least you're having a good time. Daddy's starting to lose his patience." Natsu muttered the last bit under his breath, grinning at the child through his chagrin. He turned back to the door, "Look, I won't take up much of your time, I just need your advice. It's about Lucy…"

The door swung open with a rush and a thud, crashing into the very tree it was nailed to, causing leaves to fall from their branches. The noise had stunned Natsu into silence as he stared at the very person he'd come to see—Porlyusica. Dressed in her usual attire, she stepped out onto the porch and glowered at the young man, broom in hand, ready to chase him away.

Opening her mouth to scold him for the disruption, she caught sight of the little one he was carrying and closed it again, her hard lines softening. Instead of beating the slayer with her broom, which was the original plan, she held something out in her palm, expecting him to take it.

Eyeing it curiously, he took it from her hand and held it to his face, inspecting it further. It was a small, glass vile with a cork stopper lid, that contained a strange yellow liquid, its consistency was thick and it reminded Natsu, somewhat, of mashed up baby food—the kind Haru loved to eat.

"It's called morning sickness. Give her a few drops of that potion and it should quell its severity." She explained.

The boy accepted her potion and put it into his pocket for safe keeping, "Thanks! Lucy'll be glad of that. Only, it's not just her sickness that I'm-"

"I know why you're here. I could tell when I saw you all the other day, I'm just surprised it's taken you both this long to come knocking. So, where is she?" Porlyusica asked, looking behind Natsu for the blonde.

"At home actually. She… kinda doesn't know I'm here… but, I can't watch her suffer like that, I need to know what to do." Natsu pleaded, hoping the healer would help him.

She sighed, unable to refuse his request, "Has it been confirmed?"

"Not really… How do you do that?" Natsu asked, his knowledge on such things were limited.

"Get Lucy to test it, she'll understand. Then once it's confirmed, come back to me, I'll need to run some checks." She said, turning to go back inside.

"Checks? What checks?" There went his plan! Lucy would have to see her after all.

"You want a healthy child, don't you?" She said, as if it were obvious.

"U-Uh…"

The fire mage didn't get a chance to think too much into that before the door was slammed shut in his face, making him along with the baby jump.

The wind picked up a little as he turned to walk away, looking down at Haru, who was starting to snuggle down against his chest. Natsu smiled again at him, trying to mask his annoyance with the old woman's abruptness, "Sorry for making you wait, Haru, I bet you're super bored?"

"Dada…" The child yawned cutely on cue, making Natsu chuckle.

"Yeah, Dada's gonna take you home." He reiterated, turning to make tracks for home.

Natsu all but crashed through the front door, nearly breaking it off its hinges. "Luce? Lucy? Are ya home?" He yelled out into the house. Out of breath and panting, having just ran all the way back.

"Lucy?" He called out again, but with no answer still, he wondered where she could be, "Hmm… Let's go find Mama; she's around here somewhere."

"Mama…" The infant muttered, before going back to sucking on the ends of Natsu's scarf.

Once reaching the top of the stairs, he heard what he suspected might be the reason for Lucy's silence. A noise that'd become all too common over the last few days. Pushing the bathroom door open, he stood in the doorway, smiling sadly at the girl hunched over the toilet bowl once again. He felt nothing but empathy for her, the feeling of being overwhelmingly sick wasn't exactly foreign to him either, so he understood her pain.

The young man crouched down behind the blonde, cringing as she wretched her guts up. "It's alright, Luce. I'm here with you now." He spoke quietly, as not to alarm her of his presence. Placing Haru down next to him, he reached a hand out to her shoulder, the warm touch spreading over her clammy skin.

With one last cough and spit into the bowl, Lucy leaned back, breathing heavily while her watery eyes streamed down her face. She sniffled and blew her nose with a tissue, wiping her mouth at the same time. She took in a large breath and shifted to the man behind her, clutching hold of his jacket while she cried into his chest.

Enveloping her with his arms and cradling her head to him, he spoke tenderly to her, "Has it eased off now?"

"I-I don't know." Her voice was hoarse; her throat sore, "Please don't leave me again."

That struck a chord with Natsu. Never had he heard Lucy ask for him, not like that. She was always way too proud and independent, but this had really taken it's toll on her, not just physically but mentally also, making her feel vulnerable and it saddened him to see her so.

"I won't, Lucy, I promise." He said lowly into her ear, placing an affectionate peck just behind her lobe.

Nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck, she sniffled again, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, "I don't want this, Natsu. I don't care what's causing it; I just want it gone."

Really her words shouldn't have affected him like they did, yet he still felt a sharp tug on his heart. She didn't know the reason behind her vomiting; how could she? He hadn't told her. And now with her so upset, he really didn't know how he was going to do that. Where did he even start?

He'd been so ready to just blurt it out, never considering how Lucy might react to it. In fact, if memory served him, she'd most likely freak until she combusted, or worse, began to cry. This subject had to be handled sensitively and with care, but the longer he left it, the longer he had to dwell on her reaction.

"I know, Luce. Are you sure you still want to wait for Wendy? Gramps told me she won't be back for a week at least." He explained, hoping she might change her mind about seeing the old dragon woman.

"I don't care who I see, as long as they can get rid of it." She said, finally pulling back and wiping her eyes with her sleeve, "I'm just so tired! It's been so long since I've had any real sleep and the puking just won't let up. My tummy hurts, my back aches and my ribs feel like they're being squashed, I have a constant headache and food-" She placed her hand over her mouth again, feeling that overwhelming nausea return. The mention of food, any food, was enough to set her off.

"Just try and take a deep breath, Luce, think of something else."

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath through her nose and let it slowly out through her mouth, turning her attentions to Haru, "Sorry, little man, Mama didn't mean to ignore you, although you seem pretty content sucking on that scarf."

"He's been doing that all afternoon." Natsu answered for the baby, before switching back to Lucy, "Has the feeling gone now?"

"Not yet, it never really does. It just sits there until something triggers it." She explained, trying to breathe through the queasiness.

"That sucks… Oh, that reminds me, I have something for ya!" Remembering the little gift the old woman had given him, he started rummaging through his pockets, pulling out the item he was looking for and handed it to her, "Take it, Luce, it'll help with your, uh…" Wracking his brain for whatever Porlyusica had called it, "…Sickness." Was what he settled for.

Taking it into her hands she stared at it, frowning at the gross substance which could barely be called a liquid. "Um… Are you sure this is fit for human consumption?" She asked, hesitant to put it anywhere near her mouth. "And where'd it even come from?"

"Well, you know you said you didn't want to go to Porlyusica?" He blushed a little, putting his hand behind his head and grinned sheepishly, "I kinda did for ya and she gave me that. She said to take a few drops of it."

"Hmm… If you say so." She popped the cork lid open and let a few small globs dribble out into her mouth, pulling a disgusted face as it slid down her throat and stuck out her tongue. Little Haru found it hysterical and began laughing at his mother, his whole body jiggling up and down, "Well, I'm glad you're finding this funny, because that is repulsive!"

Natsu smiled, "You did look kinda funny, Luce. But at least it'll lessen your morning sickness now." That was it!

Eyes widening, Lucy snapped her head to Natsu, her amusement gone, "Morning sickness?!"

"Yeah, that's what she called it—which is dumb! It's more like all day and night sickness." He chuckled to himself, quickly falling silent when Lucy's expression didn't change at his little joke. He didn't understand; had he said something wrong? "What's up, Luce? I thought it might help."

"You… you think I'm pregnant?" She asked, eyes wide and mouth agape, her stare never leaving him.

Shit!

So morning sickness was a pregnancy thing? He wished he'd known that sooner!

Cursing himself again, he hadn't meant for her to find out like that and what's worse—she looked utterly horrified. Dammit! What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't lie to her; he wouldn't do that. With no other alternative, he did the only thing he could and sighed, nodding his answer and cringing at the sharp inhale he heard pass her lips.

Hoping she wasn't about to blow a fuse, he approached the stunned girl carefully, taking the vile out of her slack grasp and placed it back in his pocket before entwining their fingers together. Quirking one side of his lip into a half smile, he kept quiet and allowed her to process the information she obviously was not expecting.

His eyes dropped from her shocked face to her partially exposed stomach, catching her other hand instinctively come down to cradle it protectively, like an expectant mother would and it made the adrenaline course through his body.

"Pregnant… How did I not think of that?" She muttered under her breath, truly shocked that she hadn't once considered it a possibility. All the signs were there, everything pointed to it—shouted at it in fact, yet it was Natsu who'd realised it first. The boy that once thought humans laid eggs had figured it out before her? Something seemed fishy! "How come you knew? Who've you been speaking to?" Mortified to think that the whole guild knew before she even did.

"Gray, actually." He replied, shrugging, "And Porlyusica helped, obviously."

"Gray?! What does he know about having a baby? Doesn't he usually shy away from that kind of stuff?" She was astounded to find that it was the ice mage of all people. One of the girls from the guild was understandable or even someone like Gajeel who'd experienced it, but Gray?

"You think Juvia gives him a choice? She was crazy before, but now it seems she's on a whole other level." He sniggered a little, feeling kinda sorry for Gray, but kinda not. He'd made his bed and now he'd have to lay in it.

"Oh, so Juvia's pregnant too? How sweet, she's been desperate since… well, since forever!"

Natsu hummed in agreement, his attention focused more on Lucy's calm and collected demeanour, which honestly, he hadn't expected. She seemed happy by the prospect of growing their family, and that filled him with joy.

"Baby fever all 'round, it seems." Chuckling and tapping little Haru's head, the spirit wielder met the slayers eyes, smiling brightly at him with her hand still firmly placed on her lower belly, "I guess being so sick will be worth it, if it's for a baby."

"Our baby, Luce." Wiping the few stray tears away with his thumb, Natsu grinned at her, glad to see that gorgeous smile of hers split her cheeks, "Now we just gotta test it, right? Only, I don't know how you'd do that?"

"Hmm… I do, but… Oh wait! Cana!" She yelled, scrambling to her feet and nearly tripping on the bath mat. Luckily, Natsu was there for her to grab a hold of.

"What's this got to do with Cana?" He asked, confused—nothing good could ever come of her being involved.

"Her 'gifts'." The boy tilted his head; that made even less sense! "You know… ages ago, she pranked us with the condoms and a pregnancy test?" Lucy whispered to him, not wanting to say it out loud in front of Haru.

"Oh yeah! I wondered where they all went!" His eyes lit up when the memory returned to him.

"Please don't remind me…" Happy mumbled under his breath, a look of trauma on his face.

"Oh, hey Happy! I didn't hear ya come in!" Natsu greeted, waving at the exceed hovering in the doorway.

"Why're you guys looking for those things? You mean you're actually gonna use 'em?!" Nearly passing out at the thought, but shut his mouth quickly when he noticed Lucy glaring at him.

Returning to the task at hand, the blonde continued to search through the bathroom cupboards, "I put them away in here somewhere… Aha! Found it!" She cheered, holding and waving it in her hand to show Natsu.

"Awesome!" He cheered, "Now what?"

"Yeah, uh, you're gonna have to wait outside, and I'll let you know when I'm done." Pulling out the stick from its packaging, she crossed her arms and glared at the boy still standing there.

"Wait, what's happening?" The exceed asked, completely lost on their conversation.

"Why do I gotta wait outside? Can't I stay in here while you do it?" Natsu didn't want to be locked out again, it wasn't fair! He wanted to be in on the action!

She deadpanned, "Unless you want to watch me pee on a stick?" He was clueless.

"No, thank you!" Happy was gone in a flash, back down the stairs, no longer caring what they were talking about.

"So what, Luce?" The fire mage shrugged, "I've seen ya do worse."

"Just get out, Natsu, I'll call you back in when I'm done!" Lucy huffed, shooing the idiot out of the bathroom, ignoring his protests and shutting the door behind her.

Natsu exaggerated his huff, chuckling when Haru copied him, "Looks like we gotta wait out here, little guy. Are ya hungry?" The fire mage asked, taking them both down to the kitchen to retrieve some food.

Once returning to the bathroom door, food thoroughly shoved in their pie holes, they waited. When the door finally opened, revealing the girl with the stick in her hand, Natsu could barely contain himself; he wanted to know the results.

"So, what's it say? Are ya, Luce?" He asked, feeling like a kid at Christmas. Upon setting his own eyes on the girl, his face dropped instantly as he watched fresh tears build in her eyes. "Lucy?"

She wiped her snuffling nose and handed the stick to her partner, allowing him to look at the results. "Two lines means positive; one line means negative." Was all she said, using her sleeve to rub at her irritated eyes.

Peering down at the peculiar shaped object in his hand, he knitted his brows together. On the little screen, there was but a singular line—just one. He looked back up to Lucy, confusion still etched into his expression, "Negative?"

"It means, I'm not pregnant." Disappointment flowed out of her very pores; saying it out loud only reaffirmed it; a bitter truth escaping her lips. "Back to the drawing board, I guess. I'm sorry, Natsu, I know that wasn't what you wanted to hear."

Natsu remained silent, processing it all. It was definitely not the result he had been expecting, but it didn't seem to be bothering him as much as it should've. That niggle along with everything else that lead him to that conclusion, surely hadn't been wrong? He should've felt sad, a little disappointed, maybe? Or even a tad guilty for giving Lucy false hope—but he felt none of those things.

It was true that he didn't have well of medical knowledge like Porlyusica or some other doctor. He didn't read a load of books to get his information like Lucy or even Levy, and he certainly had no experience to pull from, and yet his gut still believed there was hope.

He placed the test down and pulled Lucy to him, enveloping her in his warmth to soothe her aching heart. With her nestled into his chest, he nuzzled his head into her hair, breathing in her scent, allowing it to relax him, when an idea struck.

Unexpectedly he pulled away from the sad blonde, passed her the baby and dropped to his knees, much to her embarrassment. He hugged her close, placing his nose on her lower belly and inhaled deeply, ignoring her flustered rants about 'reading the mood'. After several awkward minutes of her whining and his determination to be proven right, he smiled and let go.

"Natsu, you can't just sniff people like that! What were you doing?! I'm not in the mood for jokes." She sighed, watching him hop to his feet.

"Lucy, I think the test is lying."

Perking her head up to meet his eyes, with brows knitted together, she spoke, "Huh? Tests don't lie, Natsu! Don't be so ridiculous! I know it's hard to hear, but we're not having a baby."

"We'll see about that!" He grinned and hoisted her up, carrying her bridal style down the stairs with Haru perched neatly in her lap, ignoring her yells to be put down.

"Right Haru, let's go get some answers! You coming, Happy?" Natsu's usual electric enthusiasm shone brightly through his grin.

"Yeah! Where are we going?" Happy asked, hovering above the slayer's head.

He winked at the Exceed, then proceeded to kick the front door open and walked out into the front garden. "You ready, Luce?" His grin turning mischievous.

"Natsu, put me down! I don't even have any shoes on! Where the heck are we going?!" She screeched into his ear, making him wince, but smile all the same.

"You don't need shoes when I'm carrying you! Hold on tight guys, we're off to see the old dragon woman in the woods. She'll be able to tell us." He said, sprinting off down the path towards their destination, with Happy flying behind.

Eventually, Lucy gave up her struggle. She wasn't going to win; she never did once he'd set his mind on something. That was usually how all of their adventures started off, him dragging her off somewhere new and exciting. Although, she couldn't say going to see the old woman was new or particularly exciting, but if Natsu thought it was the right thing to do, even if the result remained the same, then she had no choice but to tag along.

Finally nearing the tree, Natsu could see from a distance that the door was open, meaning said woman was out and about, probably collecting ingredients for her next potion.

"So you've returned." They heard the gruff voice from behind, swivelling their heads to meet Porlyusica as she walked over to them. "And you've brought the whole cavalry… Well, don't just stand there gawking, in you go!" Natsu quickly made it into the tree, not wanting to be on the receiving end of the cranky woman with a broom. "And put Lucy down, a pregnant woman is more than capable of walking, boy!"

Lucy all but jumped to her feet, mortified and embarrassed by the whole situation and turned to the healer, "That's the thing though, I'm not pregnant, but Natsu insisted on dragging us out here. We're sorry for wasting your time." The flustered blonde seemed a little too eager to leave and tried to make a break for the door; however; the fire breather's quick reflexes caught her wrist before she could reach the door handle.

"Luce, I told you already: the test was lying!" He repeated, eyes pleading with her just to wait and see what the healer might say.

She sighed; feeling a little frustrated by it all, "Tests don't lie, Natsu. I'm not pregnant and that's all there is to it. I'll just have to muddle through whatever this sickness is until it goes away."

"It came out negative, I assume?" Porlyusica intervened, focusing on the blonde huddling close to the door. "Natsu is right, tests can give false negative readings, especially if it's old or hasn't been used properly." The pink haired woman walked closer to the girl, looking her up and down. "I thought that you might be when I saw you last and I'm rarely wrong."

Lucy hadn't expected the woman to actually agree with Natsu. She hadn't thought that there could be something wrong with the test, but then again, it was from Cana and god knows where she'd got it from. She perked her head up a little and was almost reluctant to look at the dragon slayers expression, knowing the smugness of being right would be written all over his face.

"Ha! See, I knew it! There's still a chance, Lucy!" Natsu shone his vibrant, toothy grin at the blonde girl. She could see the hope in his eyes; he really wanted this; to be a father again and her heart all but melted.

"I have other, more thorough ways of testing, if you'd let me?" Porlyusica asked the celestial mage, bringing her back to the present.

Apprehensively, Lucy nodded her head and went to sit on the bed by the window to await further instructions. She was so nervous, hoping for some positive answers, that would prove the test was false. She wasn't sure her heart could take the disappointment a second time, especially if it included Natsu's this time.

"There are a few different ways I can confirm a pregnancy, blood tests and so forth, but the most efficient way is a scan of the area." She said, gathering the instruments she needed whilst awaiting Lucy's approval. "I use a lacrima and it shows an image of your womb."

"O-Okay." Lucy replied, uncertain of what she'd just agreed to.

She laid back on the bed and pulled her top up, revealing her stomach. Taking a deep breath, the celestial mage twisted her head to Natsu, who had knelt down beside her. Her nerves were rattling within her body and was looking for a little reassurance, something to take the edge off of her apprehension.

He smiled at her tenderly and reached out for her hand to hold tight, not entirely convinced it was to ease just her anxiety as opposed to his own. They were about to find out whether or not their own little creation had taken residence in Lucy's womb, and he couldn't describe what an incredibly surreal feeling that was.

Porlyusica first needed to locate where the lacrima should be placed. Using one hand, she pressed firmly just above Lucy's pelvis, then several times around the area. Still tender and overly sensitive, Lucy tried her hardest not to show the discomfort it was causing. It rippled up into her throat, making her feel sick again, only this time she had no choice but to hold it back.

The wincing and quiet gasps didn't go unnoticed by the dragon slayer. He'd been watching the healer like a hawk, making sure nothing hurt Lucy too much. He leant over, understanding how unpleasant it must be and kissed her temple, whilst running his fingers smoothly through her blonde tresses.

The lacrima was a simple looking flat, green crystal that the older woman laid onto the stellar mages bare skin and waited for the image to appear. With a few flashes of light, a picture was formed like a projection hovering just above the lacrima.

"What the heck is that?! It looks like you swallowed a ball!" Happy couldn't take his eyes off of the image.

"That's so cool! I'm totally looking at your insides, Luce!" The fire breather enthused, unable to take his eyes off of the image.

Lucy rolled her eyes at the pair; typical Natsu and Happy, "You're both such idiots…"

"When you're done bickering, I'll explain what you're looking at." Porlyusica cut in. She pointed to the big black oval shape on the projection, that Happy kindly pointed out, and looked at the pair, making sure they were paying attention. "This is the outline of your uterus, Lucy. And from what I can see, it looks perfectly normal and healthy."

"Oh okay, that's good then." She pointed to a smaller, light coloured ball at the bottom of the black oval and knitted her brows together. "So, what's that?"

Moving the lacrima crystal slightly, the healer repositioned it to get a closer look at the small ball and both mages eyes near bulged out of their sockets. Their mouths dropped open and breath hitched simultaneously as the image took on a more human shape, its arms and legs moving rapidly.

"Oh my… Is that…?" Lucy had never seen anything like it, her mouth had gone completely dry and she felt the butterflies in her tummy cause her to quiver, she was in awe.

"Look at what we did, Lucy…" Natsu murmured after a few shocked, silent moments, catching the girl's attention. His eyes were glued to the image, watching it kick out with it's tiny little developing legs and feet. "It's an active little thing…"

"It's a baby, Natsu…" The celestial mages eyes glazed over, unable to control the flood of emotions that entered her system.

For the first time, the fire breather peeled his sights away from the projection and looked to his partner. His own tears peaked at the corners, feeling so overwhelmingly happy to be able to share this with her.

"Mm… it sure is, Luce." His voice sounded airy, sleepy almost, like his body had simply relaxed. His brilliant smile beamed at the blonde, making her heart skip a beat as she turned to face him fully, the sound of their little one's heart beat filling their ears.

"Look Haru, you're gonna have a little brother or sister." Lucy said as Natsu held him up to see, pointing at the even tinier one wriggling around on the projection. "It's a little one, just like you!"

Porlyusica turned the crystal once more, allowing them to see the baby from a different angle, "As you can see, Lucy, you are pregnant and by the looks of it, I'd say you have been for about ten weeks now."

"Ten weeks?! Surely that's not right; I would have noticed long before now!" Lucy was stunned to learn she was that far along already. The symptoms had only just started and she'd menstruated within that time—hadn't she?

"Not necessarily, pregnancy doesn't follow a certain set of rules. When Juvia came to see me regarding the same thing, she'd been suffering with symptoms from around the six week mark. Levy, on the other hand, had no symptoms and she was carrying twins. Some women experience symptoms just at the beginning while others, all the way through. Some later and some sooner, and some none at all."

"Oh… I didn't know. So, what happens now?" Lucy asked, feeling a little bit of disappointment when the healer deactivated the lacrima and removed it from her belly—she could've easily watched it all day.

"Yeah, when will it be born? Is it a long wait?" Natsu butted in, moving to sit next to the girl on the bed.

"And I thought Gray was clueless… A pregnancy takes nine months or approximately forty weeks, meaning Lucy has about thirty weeks left to go."

"That long? But that's ages away!" Natsu whined, turning into a child himself.

"Yeah, why can't it be born now?" Happy joined in, wanting to meet the little one already.

"Quiet, boys, before I kick you out!" She threatened, returning her attentions to the blonde, "Look after yourself, Lucy. A stressed mother is a stressed baby, but so far everything is looking as it should." The woman returned her equipment to their places and snapped her head to the little family still sitting there, "What're you both still doing here? Get out!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Natsu and Lucy jumped to their feet at lightning speed and ran out of the door, making sure they were out of sight of the old woman before slowing to a halt.

"Ugh! Now my feet are all dirty!" Lucy groaned, lifting her bare feet up one by one to inspect them, grimacing at all of the mud now coating them. "This is your fault- Mmph!"

A pair of warm, smooth lips silenced her, pressing urgently to her mouth, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. With him taking the lead, Lucy relaxed into it and enjoyed the feel of his mouth on hers, their tongues interloping, causing butterflies to re-enter her stomach.

Pulling apart, but barely, he stared at her angelic features and couldn't help but smile at the beautiful girl before him. Thanks to her, he was going to be a father again. A father not to just one, but two precious babies and he felt like the luckiest man in the world.

"I love you, Lucy." He grinned, the biggest, widest grin she'd ever seen, so enormous it was almost too much for his face. But it was still heart meltingly cute and to hear him say those words again was enough to turn her into a puddle. It wasn't something he said very often, but she was fine with that. It made times like this all the more special.

"I love you too, Natsu." She could see just how happy he was, his very soul glowing like the fire he wielded. "So, are you going to tell me how you knew?"

He quirked his brow, "Knew what?"

"That the test was wrong." She said, her eyes flickering between his.

"Oh… I, uh, sorta had a feeling, I guess. And I was sure I could smell something." He shrugged, about to lean in for another kiss.

"You could… smell something?" Horrified she pulled her face back; did she smell?!

"Yeah, another scent. I've been able to smell it since I came home the other day, but didn't know what it was until now." The boy explained, bringing her head back to him.

"You can smell the baby?" Lucy's eyes widened in fascination.

"Sure. It's real faint, but if I try hard enough, it's there."

"Wow! That's incredible!" She looked down at herself again and cradled her belly, right where the lacrima had been and pictured their perfect little baby safe and sound in there. "I'm so happy, Natsu."

"Me too, Lucy." Natsu chuckled and finally managed to pull her back in for a loving and tender kiss, relaying all of his own happiness to her in one fluid motion. His hand came up to rest on top of hers, caressing the soft skin of her belly, imagining just how beautiful she was going to look in the months to come, carrying his child.

But their passion was swiftly halted when a certain little fella stopped them in their tracks, placing a hand to where their lips joined and made a cute babble sound, as if he were trying to work out what they were doing. Chuckling, they both turned to Haru, who was still looking at them curiously.

"You two are just nasty!" Happy said, placing himself down on the floor. "Not only do you eat each other, but you're now doing it in front of Haru!"

"We don't eat each other, I have no idea what you're talking about!" Lucy defended, shaking her head.

"Yeah you do and other… more explicit things!" Happy shivered at the thought, "Otherwise you wouldn't be in this situation."

"What situation is that then?" Lucy asked, defiance lacing her voice.

"He means the baby, Luce, even I understood that one!" Natsu piped in.

"Really?!" She exclaimed sarcastically, "Ugh! You guys are infuriating! With any luck, this baby will be a girl, then I won't feel so outnumbered!" She huffed, crossing her arms.

"And she'll still end up like Natsu, and you know it!"

Lucy's expression deflated, her arms sinking to her sides ans sighed "You're right…"

"Anyway, with another mouth to feed, you might wanna reconsider that job, Natsu!" The exceed mentioned, not noticing the dragon slayer shoot daggers at him.

"Oh… What job is that then?" The blonde asked, curiously. She didn't remember Natsu mentioning anything about a job.

"It's nothing really, Luce." Natsu shrugged, playing it down.

"You should have seen the reward! I've never seen that many zero's in a number!" Happy chirped, only now noticing the look his friend was giving him, telling him silently to shut up.

"Natsu, what's up? How come you never said anything?" Lucy asked, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"It's not that big of a deal. Gramps gave me a request yesterday, but I turned it down, that's all." He explained, seeming a little dismissive but otherwise normal. "Why don't we get ya home? It'll be dinner time soon." Seeing the reluctance in Lucy's face to believe him, he sighed and smiled at her, not ready to have that conversation just yet.

Suddenly her feet were whipped out from under her and she and Haru found themselves in the air, with two strong arms holding them up, "Natsu!"

"What? Can't have Mama all pooped out now can we, Haru?" Natsu laughed along with the infant, grinning widely, "'Cause she's still gotta cook us dinner!" He smirked at the young woman in his arms, who's eyes snapped at to him, glaring at his handsome face.

"Hey! How come I gotta slave away in the kitchen?! I'm pregnant now, you should be making me dinner!" She retorted, huffing and turning her head to the side.

"I don't mind cooking, it's whether you mind having a kitchen or not?"

"On second thought, stay out of the kitchen, you're too much of a fire hazard. But you owe me a foot rub, after all, this is your doing!" She smirked back at him.

"Oh… I never remember you complaining, maybe I'll have to get you to jolt my memory later." He chuckled lowly back, rising to the challenge.

"That's it! You two are disgusting! I'm taking Haru and you can both find somewhere else to do your dirty stuff tonight." Happy whizzed down to snatch the giggling baby from Lucy and speedily zoomed off into the distance, leaving the other two behind.

"Hey! That's no fair! You got a head start!" Not willing to be beaten by a flying cat and a baby, Natsu hurtled himself and Lucy in the same direction, her screams of terror echoing throughout the forest.

[imaginedhaven]

Rules of Engagement: Chapter Eleven

Link to Masterpost

Holy crap, we’ve cleared 50,000 words of this. Things are really starting to pick up now, so if I had to guess this will probably wind up being... maybe around 75k-80k in total? It still has to be WRITTEN, though, so... lol.

Also, we’re going to start earning that warning in the masterpost for canon-typical violence from here on out. Just so you’re aware.

Enjoy!

~*~*~

“So, let me make certain I have this absolutely clear,” Aedion drawled in a way that immediately set Rowan on edge.

Rather than reply and risk growling rather than speaking, he nodded, the movement tighter and less smooth than he would’ve liked.

“Aelin came here to Rifthold fully intending not only to continue her relationship with the prince, but to apprehend a criminal—not just any criminal, but an assassin—who was originally from Terrasen and moved to Rifthold.”

Rowan gritted his teeth and gave another silent nod.

“She elected to do this for reasons you are aware of, but that she has not told me and that you refuse to tell me.”

Another nod and another clenching of his jaw.

“And so the two of you have been sneaking out at night, which Captain Westfall”—the name came from Aedion’s lips as though it were a curse in and of itself—“condoned, if not outright allowed.”

The captain spoke up then. “Given the information presented to me, I had little other choice.”

“I’m not finished,” Aedion snarled, and the captain fell silent. “While you were sneaking around the slums of Rifthold, you got into more than one brawl, and you destroyed at least one business, which as of now still has yet to recover, if it ever will.”

This time it was harder to stifle the growl, but as Aedion’s expression didn’t change he must have managed it with at least some success.

“And then last night, it all finally comes to a head when Aelin allows herself to be abducted by said assassin. And you allowed all of this to happen.”

Rowan’s grip on his temper, already tenuous due to the nature of the situation, finally slipped enough for him to snarl at the other warrior. “Do not presume to think I made my decisions lightly,” he growled, “or that I have not spent a single moment wishing it could have been myself in her place.”

The shifter—Lysandra—delicately cleared her throat, and Aedion immediately turned his attention toward her. “If we’re done yelling at each other about whose fault it is,” she said pointedly, “then perhaps we can come up with a plan for how to handle the fact that our princess is missing?”

Rowan nodded shortly, and unfurled a roughly-sketched map of the city over his desk. He watched as the captain’s brow furrowed, likely at the idea that a foreign soldier had been able to acquire this much information about his city, but Rowan chose instead to focus on the plan he had been given. “Aelin’s request was that she be given twenty-four hours as a head start,” he began, “and I see the merit in that. If she’s not able to get the information she requires now, this assassin will go to ground and it could be years before we hear of him again.”

“It likely won’t be years,” the captain interrupted, ignoring Rowan’s scowl. “I did some research on my own into the man she’s hunting. He’s too proud to go completely unnoticed for that long.”

“Be that as it may, this is our best opportunity.” Rowan tapped on a building on his map. “She was taken here. Her captors didn’t notice me following them. It appears to be a stronghold of some sort, almost a guild hall for cutthroats and killers. I think it’s unlikely that they would move her from this place.”

“Unlikely but not impossible,” Aedion retorted. “We should keep an eye on the place.”

“Once you’re satisfied with my explanations, I intend to go there myself. If you can promise to adhere to the plan, you may join me.” He had long since given up on keeping the frosty bite from his tone, but he fisted his hand at his side to keep it away from his blades.

“And how can I trust that this is actually her plan?”

It was the mark of a good soldier and guard, to be skeptical of his statements. If this were any other situation, Rowan would even be grateful that Aelin had someone such as this as family and protector. But this was not any other situation, and Rowan carefully called up a hint of the ice that swirled within him in the hope that it would cool his temper before he killed Aedion. “Whatever Aelin did or did not tell you is between you and her, and I refuse to be pulled into that fight. The only thing that matters right now is making certain that she exits that building safely. Are you going to help with that or not?”

Aedion growled, eyes glinting in a way that strongly reminded him that this male was indeed related to Aelin of the Wildfire, but nodded. “When do we leave?”

“As soon as we’re finished here. Captain? Lysandra? Anything to add?”

Captain Westfall cleared his throat. “If I may, I can’t keep Dorian from noticing she’s missing all day long. Do we have a plan for that?”

Rowan frowned thoughtfully, and Aedion and Lysandra glanced at each other. “That’s a terrible idea,” the shifter said as if in response to some unspoken question.

“It’s the best one we have,” Aedion replied. “This entire plan, such as it is, hinges on secrecy. And you had best believe I’ll be having words with Aelin about coming up with better plans later, but right now we’re stuck with the mess she left us in.”

“Have we considered just telling Dorian?”

“No, he’s right,” the captain interjected. “The less Dorian knows about this for now, the better. He’s terrible at keeping secrets like that from his expression; if we tell him everyone will suspect something is amiss.”

Rowan quickly turned his attention to the guardsman, frown deepening. He very much suspected that this was not actually true, and that the prince was far better at keeping secrets than he wanted anyone else to believe. Perhaps the raw magic that lived in his core was less well-controlled than he had believed?

Ah, of course. The magic. It wasn’t public knowledge that the crown prince of Adarlan was burdened with such a strong gift of magic. It was likely the captain was aware of the secret, and didn’t want any upset to risk a flare-up of the young man’s power at an inconvenient time.

Rowan carefully set aside the thought that Aelin’s disappearance would possibly cause an emotional disturbance in the young prince that was severe enough to unleash his magic. Better to think his control was simply a work in progress like Aelin’s rather than wonder how close they could’ve possibly gotten in a few short weeks.

Lysandra sighed, interrupting his thoughts, and when he looked up at her he froze for a moment as Aelin’s face looked back at him.

It wasn’t truly Aelin’s face, though. Lysandra was trying to adopt her usual confident smirk, but the gesture looked stiff and unpracticed. If he looked more closely the color of her eyes was ever so slightly darker as well, and the scattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose was in the wrong pattern. It was deeply unsettling to be looking at this face that both was and was not his carranam, and Rowan quickly looked away. “It should be close enough to fool the prince, for a short time,” he managed.

“So we’re decided, then,” Aedion declared.

“I still hate this plan,” the shifter cautioned.

Captain Westfall scowled as he stood. “It’s the only plan we have. I’ll do what I can to limit your interaction with the prince. I’m assuming you don’t want a guard sent to the building?”

Rowan nodded. “Best not to call attention to our movements. But be ready, in the event that we do not return.” He suspected all would be well, but it never hurt to have a backup plan.

The captain nodded, the motion tight and precise as he would expect from a soldier of the man’s status, and quickly left. “You can get there on your own?” Rowan asked Aedion.

The younger male stared at the map carefully, then nodded. “I can get there.”

“Good,” Rowan said. And then he flew from the room in a flurry of wings and frosty air.

~*~*~

“You take me to such nice places,” Aelin purred as Arobynn led her into another chamber, slightly larger than the previous one. Her arms and legs remained chained, but with slightly more freedom of movement she could carefully roll her shoulders and her ankles in preparation for moving quickly should an opportunity arise.

“Such a valuable player in the game should be treated with exactly the respect she commands,” Arobynn replied smoothly, though Aelin carefully suppressed a shudder at the bite beneath his words. She needed him to keep talking, to give her time to find the truth beneath the layer of lies she knew he would present.

“Well, I do believe the next move is yours. I await it eagerly,” she smirked.

She glanced at his face, focusing on the way his eyes didn’t move at all when he smiled. “I have a proposition for you, my dear.”

Oh, how she wished she could free a single arm. It was all she would need to make him regret the way he was speaking to her, as well as the bargain she believed he was about to suggest. Instead, though, she relaxed into one of the chairs as he sat in the other. “I’m listening.”

“See, we each have something the other wants,” he continued. “I have information I know you seek, and I would very much like you to stop being a pain in my ass.” Again, that undercurrent of rage slipped through his ironclad control, and Aelin hid another smirk. Riling people who claimed to have excellent self-control was a talent she had developed from the moment Aedion had come to their home from across the sea. It seemed this man was no exception.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” she replied.

“Ah, so you weren’t aware when you and your… companion… trashed the Vaults that I had a significant investment in the business?”

“One of your hulking brutes didn’t like that I beat him fair and square. I could hardly control what happened next.”

“And the safe being cracked open before you left?”

“Complete coincidence, I assure you.” She was well aware that he would have no proof it had been her who had broken open the safe, and she knew that refusing to admit to what he suspected would only make him more angry. That was good. She needed him angry enough to let information slip.

“I see. Then I presume you don’t want to know how your parents died?” Another biting remark overlaid with false sincerity, velvety smoothness underlaid with sharp fangs and claws.

Aelin went cold, sensation fading from her limbs as she stared at him. “I was there. My parents died of an illness.”

“Ah, yes,” he drawled, kicking his legs up and over the arm of his chair. “An illness no healer could cure, or so I heard. I had left Terrasen by then, of course, but word spreads quickly when rulers fall.”

Aelin bit her tongue to hold in a sharp reply before glancing back over at him, expression carefully uninterested. “And assuming I can believe you’re telling the truth,” she said, “what would you ask in exchange for this information?”

“Why, what could any man want from a lovely princess such as yourself?” he asked, and Aelin once more carefully mastered her own expression to hide any disgust. “You have power, and yet you cannot access it without aid. I have that information and more, and yet I lack the power that would ensure my own safety. I’m certain we can come to some kind of… arrangement.”

“That’s a high price you ask,” she replied. “And you haven’t done nearly enough to prove you’re worth such an arrangement. After all, it is I who would need to convince the lords of Terrasen to accept you. If you can’t convince me…” Aelin deliberately yawned, and cheered internally as Arobynn gritted his teeth, silver eyes alight with anger.

“If knowledge regarding your own parents isn’t enough to convince you,” he snapped, “then what about information regarding your former lover?”

“It’s quite bold of you to assume I did no investigating when I discovered his body,” she retorted.

“Ah, but I would wager you have yet to learn who bid me send him to Orynth in the first place, and who gave the command to cut his life so tragically short.”

The callous admission that he had passed that command along lit a fire in her veins, and she reached for it before recalling that she was bound in iron. The wildfire fizzled, mere sparks that slipped from her fingers. “And what assurance could you give me, that you would tell me and that you have proof?”

Arobynn stood, and Aelin did finally cringe as he slid two fingers under her jaw to tilt her head up. “My dear, do I look like a man who leaves anything to chance? You’ll have your proof once I have our agreement.”

Aelin jerked her head back, freeing herself from his grip. “That’s a shame, for there will be no agreement until you’ve presented your proof.”

Almost immediately, Arobynn’s casual expression melted into steely anger. “What a shame indeed,” he murmured. “Perhaps you would care to enjoy some more of my… hospitality… first.”

As the man stepped away and opened the door, someone else entered the room. Aelin carefully stood as well, but even with a single glance she knew this wasn’t a fight she would win. Not with her limbs and power both bound by the iron chains clamped around her ankles and wrists.

At Arobynn’s nod, the newest arrival to the room gave her a predatory grin and dragged her toward the wall. Her face made contact with the wall as he shoved her against it with a hand between her shoulders, and while she was stunned by the impact he attached her chains to hooks affixed to the wall. “Do let me know if you decide to change your mind,” Arobynn called, and then the door closed behind him as he left.

Aelin heard the sound of a whip cracking, and as if from a distance she heard herself screaming as fire spread along her back.

~*~*~

Lysandra finally relaxed into her role as she sat beside the prince for the evening meal. True to his word, the captain of the guard had kept him busy for most of the day, giving her time to overcome her nerves at having to pretend to be someone like Aelin. Oh, she had acted before. She had played roles for clients and courtiers alike, and she had certainly changed her face many times.

None of them had felt nearly as important as this. Everything was on the line, completely dependent on Dorian believing her performance as his potential future wife.

It’s only for one day, she reminded herself as her fingers twisted around each other. She had complete faith in Aelin’s ability to execute a plan, as well as Aedion and Rowan’s ability to keep her safe. It was up to her, now, to give them the time they needed.

Dorian’s parents seemed to be completely unaware of the swap, and Lysandra had spent enough time listening to Aelin’s tutors to be able to follow the light political conversation that was taking place. Even Dorian was engaging with her just as he would with Aelin, and when he grinned at an offhand remark she awarded herself another point for her acting.

As the meal came to an end, Dorian looked over at her again. “So tell me, did you want me to do something terribly predictable and show you the gardens? Or can we skip that part?”

Lysandra laughed in reply as Dorian grinned. “Perhaps another time. I still have to read several of the books you’ve loaned to me, if I hope to finish them during this visit.”

Dorian stood, then, and turned to face her with an ostentatious bow. “Then I hope you will grant me the honor of allowing me to escort you back to your rooms, Your Highness.”

Lysandra chuckled and shook her head in what she hoped came across as a fond gesture. “You’re impossible,” she accused.

The prince laughed in reply. “I assure you that I am not,” he said. “I am here, after all. Unless you’d care to discuss the philosophy of such a statement, of course.”

“I rather suspect we would be here all night,” Lysandra grinned back as she stood, allowing him to take her arm and lead her away.

It was easy enough to allow Dorian to escort her back to Aelin’s room after the evening meal, though she couldn’t help a moment of surprise when he followed her into the main seating area. He glanced at the book Aelin had left open on her desk, humming thoughtfully as he read a few sentences. “Ah. I thought so,” he muttered.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, mimicking Aelin’s easy grin as she relaxed into a chair halfway across the room.

He turned to her then, and a chill in the air matched the frost in his eyes. “If I invited you to share my bed tonight, shifter, would you demur like the princess you claim to be? Or would you say yes, believing she’s already given into my charms?”

~*~*~

In another situation, or if he were simply an observer and not a participant in this conversation, Dorian might have been amused at the nearly-comical widening of not-Aelin’s eyes. Instead, though, he only felt a cold rage at the deception.

To the shifter’s credit, she immediately dropped the guise of Aelin and returned to her usual appearance. “I told them this was a terrible idea and we should just tell you,” she grumbled. “What tipped you off?”

“A few things,” he replied, “though the most suspicious to me was that this book is open to where Aelin left off last night when I left. She hasn’t read it today.”

The shifter—Lysandra, if he was remembering correctly—nodded. “I didn’t think you would come back here,” she confessed.

Dorian sighed. “Why don’t you start by telling me exactly what it is you’ve all been keeping from me today, and why the captain of my guard appears to be working with you.”

That was the part that was the most shocking to him, if he were being truly honest with himself. He had never once had cause to question Chaol’s loyalty, and he didn’t want to begin now. He only hoped there was a reasonable explanation for why he had been so eager to ensure he spent as much time as possible embroiled in his training and studies.

As he thought about the possibility that his captain and friend was conspiring with these people, as good as he believed Aelin’s intentions to be, he had to take several deep breaths to stop a layer of frost from forming on his hands. His control over his magic was much better than it had been when it had first manifested, but strong emotional responses still riled the power that slept within him. Unless he wanted to entrust his deepest secret to agents of Terrasen, he needed to keep his feelings in check.

The frost finally ebbed, and the shifter began to speak. “Your captain is only involved insofar as to keep you removed from all of this,” she said quietly. “We provided him with enough information to ensure your safety, nothing more.”

“That still leaves a foreign princess, her most loyal soldier, and a blood-sworn of Doranelle in my capital city, with a purpose of which I am not aware, causing an unknown amount of chaos.” Dorian fought back a sigh at the thought of the headache this would no doubt cause for him, and that was if he was fortunate enough to avoid worse fates.

“They’re… dealing with a threat that could bode ill for you and Aelin both.” The woman was clearly trying to decide how much to reveal and how much to hide, and if he wasn’t the person she was trying to deceive in this manner he would have respected it far more.

“What is the nature of the threat?” he asked.

She sighed. “A former crime lord of Terrasen, who left a few short years before her parents died. He’s created a new home for himself in Rifthold, styling himself the King of the Assassins. She’s been attempting to find him for years, to bring an end to a career that’s gone on for far too long already.”

Dorian sighed. “And I presume if I ask you’ll have absolutely no idea why a crown princess of Terrasen is involved in hunting an assassin, and didn’t simply leave it to her warrior cousin.”

“It isn’t my story to tell,” she replied, looking away.

“Of course it’s not,” he grumbled. “Apologies. I believe you when you imply that this wasn’t your idea and that you’re only involved out of necessity. But this puts me in a… delicate situation.” That was an understatement; if word of Aelin’s actions got out it could be disastrous.

“I understand,” she sighed. “Which is why I wanted to tell you what I could.”

Finally, he nodded. “And when do we expect her to return?”

“By morning,” she answered.

“Very well. I will do what I can to keep this quiet and out of the public eye. But I will be asking Aelin about this later.” It was the best he could offer, and by the look on her face she understood completely.

Without another word, Dorian turned on his heel and returned to his office, asking a guard on the way to send Chaol to him. It appeared they had much to discuss.

~*~*~

“I detest this plan,” Aedion hissed in the direction of the hawk on the nearby roof as the sun began to set. “We should be going after her.”

The hawk took flight, circling the square before landing behind a box and turning into Whitethorn in a soft flash of concealed light. “We have to trust that Aelin can get herself free,” the warrior said. “We’re foreign actors in Adarlan’s capital city. If we break into that building without cause, it puts Aelin and her prince both in a difficult situation.”

It was interesting, how a subtle difference in Whitethorn’s tone was able to so clearly indicate that he wouldn’t mind causing a little trouble for the Adarlanian prince. “You don’t like Dorian,” he realized.

The statement earned him a scowl from his Fae companion. “I have no feelings one way or the other about the prince.”

“You realize my senses are better than a human’s, right? I could hear that you don’t like him.”

Whitethorn’s response was the carefully crafted words of someone used to diplomacy. “I have no reason to dislike him. And we’re not talking about this. It’s almost time.”

Finally. He’d hated sitting in this alley waiting for something to happen. “Time for what?”

“If Aelin is going to keep to her schedule, she’s about to make her next move.”

“You think she can get out of there without us?” It wasn’t that Aedion didn’t trust his cousin’s abilities. No, he knew she was a capable fighter and a powerful magic user. But he knew that she would be unlikely to use her magic unless absolutely needed, given the possibility of a tense political situation if she were recognized.

When he turned to face Whitethorn, the other male wore a small but ferocious grin, eyes positively glowing. “It’s not her I’m worried about,” he responded. “Anyone who crosses her on her way out will deserve exactly what she gives them.” And judging from the look on his face, Whitethorn would revel in their suffering.

The house they watched over was quiet, its occupants likely asleep given that their profession meant being out at all hours of the night. Aedion sighed. “I still don’t like this,” he admitted several minutes later.

“Given that I don’t like it either, I could hardly expect you to.” For all his posturing, and for all the strange glee that had come over him when he had spoke of what Aelin would do to those who crossed her, now the warrior was tense, eyes dark with what Aedion suspected was worry.

Even though the Fae beside him was sworn to a queen that was not his own, Aedion realized he wouldn’t rather have anyone else at his side for this particular mission. He had watched Whitethorn and Aelin grow close over the previous weeks, closer than anyone would’ve suspected. He didn’t know much about magic, but he suspected that sharing it as they could was a rare gift. If he could trust anyone to feel the same urgency he did to ensure she got out of this alive and as unharmed as possible, it would be this warrior.

Suddenly Whitethorn’s head tilted and his eyes narrowed, much like Aedion would have expected in the male’s other form. “What is it?” Aedion asked, only for the other male to gesture for his silence.

Soon enough, Aedion could hear it as well. There was shouting coming from inside the house, at least two masculine voices. He couldn’t make out the words, and based on Whitethorn’s expression he couldn’t either, but something had changed. As he watched, the warrior pulled two knives from his boots and twirled them gracefully around his fingers. It was a good choice, and Aedion went for his own knife as well, knowing his sword would be nearly useless in these cramped alleys. “We stay here,” Whitethorn was saying. “Those are male voices. I haven’t heard Aelin yet, which means they haven’t discovered her. We only go in if it’s absolutely necessary. When she leaves, she’ll come this way. If anyone else makes it this far…” The grim smile on his face indicated their fate clearly enough.

Three men burst through the door of the building, exchanging panicked instructions before departing in different directions, and Aedion and Whitethorn crouched behind a cart to conceal their presence. One man ran for the alley they had chosen for their hiding place, and before Aedion could do anything the Fae warrior was already in motion, clutching the man to him in a twisted parody of a lover’s embrace before drawing a blade across his throat. “They’ll notice when this one doesn’t come back,” he whispered as he dragged the man behind their cart. “We don’t have much longer.”

A slim figure stumbled out of the door next, and Aedion grinned. “We don’t need much longer. That’s Aelin.”

She was almost unrecognizable, golden hair turned red with blood and darkened with ash, but there was no mistaking the eyes that met his, pained but determined. Then those eyes shifted away and he knew she had seen Whitethorn standing beside him. From the sharp intake of breath at his left he knew the warrior had seen her as well, and soon he had abandoned all talk of secrecy to cross the small crossing in several quick strides.

Aelin moved, trying to meet him halfway, but her motions were fumbling and clumsy. She said something to the warrior that Aedion couldn’t quite hear, smiling up at him…

And then as he watched, she collapsed into the male’s arms.

Whitethorn quickly lifted her, carrying her into the alley and out of sight. By the time they reached Aedion she was already unconscious, either from pain or from exhaustion. Judging by her face, Aedion suspected it was a combination of both. “Get her out of here and back to the palace,” he said quietly, adjusting his grip on his knife. “I’ll stay here and make sure you’re not followed.”

Green eyes met his, clearly searching for something. Aedion didn’t know what the warrior was looking for, but finally he nodded and adjusted his grip on Aelin.

Before he could get far, though, Aedion called to him again. “Oh, and Whitethorn?”

“Yes?” he replied, expression tight with concern.

“Take care of her.” And then Aedion turned his attention back to the house with a grim smile. He didn’t know what its inhabitants may have done to his cousin, but he had absolutely no problems with delivering justice to any of them foolish enough to come his way.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows

[worldwidemochiguy]

Princess Peach (soft! yandere jungkook)

Summary: After Jungkook spends half the day ignoring you, he decides to make it up to you by teaching you how to play a game. But, once you win, what will be your prize? (hint: its jungkook’s undying love and affection like when i said this was soft I mean it’s sOMfT)

Word Count: 2.8K

Authors note: thank you to @kpopgirlbtssvt​ who requested a y!kookie who plays a video game with reader and the reader getting excited and kissing him when they win and then apologising before being pulled in for another kiss by jungkook. as i said before, this is V V soft and fluffy like there’s some mention of kidnapping and other stuff but like it’s barely there tbh. anyways, hope you enjoy!!!

masterlist :)

Your stomach rumbled again and you set your book aside with a sigh. You had been trying to focus on something- anything, other than your empty stomach for the past forty minutes but every method of distraction was proving to be ineffective. Normally, now was around the time Jungkook would give you lunch. He refused to let you go into the kitchen on your own on account of the ‘dangerously sharp cooking utensils’ and so insisted on making all your meals for you. 

Jungkook was — to put it lightly — an atrocious cook. Your mouth watered at the thought of making yourself something that tasted good, or at least edible, but doing that would require an extended period of time with Jungkook watching your every move ‘to ensure your safety’. Though your feelings had, reluctantly, softened somewhat about him, you still weren’t exactly keen on spending more time with him than you strictly had to. 

Which led you to your current predicament. You had not eaten since breakfast because Jungkook, instead of bestowing the usual amount of attention and adoration on you, had decided to lock himself in a room and not come out for several hours. You weren’t sure of what was in the room, or if Jungkook was even alive. You had knocked on the door and called his name as loudly as you dared, but there had been no reaction. You weren’t worried about him. You weren’t. And you certainly weren’t missing the attention he gave you normally. Of course not. You were just hungry. 

So hungry that you returned to the door which stood in between you and Kook- Jungkook. You raised your knuckles hesitantly to the painted wood, rapping them against it three times and softly calling out his name. 

No response. 

You tried again. 

Still no response. 

Getting frustrated, you shouted his name, and even stomped your foot. 

To be honest, you were kind of glad he didn’t come that time. If he saw you acting like a brat because he wasn’t paying attention to you, you probably would’ve leapt out the nearest window in embarrassment. Well, you would’ve if they weren’t barred. Again, it was something about ‘ensuring your safety, baby’. Jungkook was oddly fixated on your well-being, as you had realised over the past months. 

Oh. You got an idea. You stumbled over your feet deliberately and loudly, and then fell to the floor, letting out an artificial moan of pain.  

“Jungkook, help me! I’m hurt!”

You heard a loud crash in the room, before the door rattled obnoxiously. Obviously he was in too much of a rush to remember it was locked, but rather than unlock it, the door was practically wrenched off its hinges a second later to reveal Jungkook, wild-eyed and panting with exertion. You were almost worried he was going to run over you in his haste, but his eyes immediately fixated on you and he crouched down and yanked you into his arms, pressed so tight against him you could barely breathe.

A moment later, he pulled back to look at you, eyes running frantically over your every feature, searching for what was supposedly bringing you pain. 

“Baby? Y/n? What’s wrong? What happened? Are you ok? Do you need to go to the hospital?” These questions were fired off so rapidly, you were pretty sure he didn’t even stop for breath. You shook your head repeatedly, unable to talk since he was currently running his thumbs over your mouth and pulling your lips back to check if any of your teeth were missing. You felt an odd flare of fondness in your chest before you smothered it ruthlessly. 

“Stop!” You exclaimed as soon as his fingers were removed from your mouth, though they didn’t stray far, brushing against your cheekbones. “I’m ok! I’m fine!”

“But-” his brow wrinkled cutely- and no, he’s not cute, he literally kidnapped you a few months ago, “You said you were hurt? You yelled for me?” His tone had an upturn at the end, as if he was unsure. 

“No, no I just…” you trailed off, and he tilted his head curiously, wide eyes somehow growing even bigger, which was also not cute, God y/n, get yourself together. “I just- I had knocked on the door several times and you didn’t answer. You- you haven’t been around all day…” his eyes became even wider, if that was possible, as his face stretched into a bunny grin which, ok, even you had to admit it was cute. 

“So… you wanted my attention?” 

“No!” You yelled, even as your cheeks flushed a deep red. Jungkook was properly grinning now, eyes swimming with amusement and you just could not stand it. 

“Baby,” he started, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction, “If you wanted my attention, you could have just asked.”

“No I couldn’t!” You exploded, “I did ask for it several times but you didn’t listen! I’ve been waiting for hours!” 

It was only after you had expelled the angry words that you realised what you had said. Your cheeks were now as flushed and furious as your shouts had been and Jungkook looked like his birthday and Christmas had just come at once. You already knew he found your anger adorable so you weren’t surprised when he tugged you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly and tucking his head downwards to press his mouth against the crown of your forehead. You told yourself it didn’t feel nice to be so cherished by someone.

“Baby~” he cooed, and you wanted to die, “Daddy’s so sorry he hasn’t been looking after you enough. Can you find it in your heart to forgive him? Please?” You looked up to see his eyes were actually watering slightly in remorse, and you- You didn’t feel bad. At all. You had absolutely no reason to feel bad.

“It’s ok,” you muttered, “I wasn’t- it was fine. I’m just-” You let out a hushed sigh. “I was worried about you.” The last part slipped out without your permission, but you made sure it was as quiet as possible, murmured into the shoulder of his black sweater, and you prayed to every deity in existence that he didn’t hear it. 

“You…” his voice wavered slightly,  Fuck, “You were worried about me?” He seriously sounded like he was going to cry. Was he going to cry? You looked up to see him gazing at you with the most adoring expression you had ever seen. You tucked your face back into his chest to hide your newly-blushing cheeks. 

“No,” you mumbled into the fabric, and his laughter warmed you to your core, no matter how hard you tried to freeze him out.

“Ok, well, I’m sorry, baby. I promise I won’t ever leave you alone like that again. I don’t even know how I did it, I guess I was just distracted.”

“What were you even doing?” You asked, and then stiffened. Maybe it’s not the best idea to question the guy who kidnapped you. But he didn’t get mad.

“I was gaming.” He explained in a patient tone.

“Gaming?” You sit up to look at the room, now exposed due to the door Jungkook had ripped off its hinges in order to get to you. It was dark, illuminated by the TV mounted on the wall which showed an animation of snowy mountains and what looked like a horses’ head pointing up from the bottom of the screen, positioned in a way to make it seem like you were the one riding the animal. 

“Yeah, it’s one of my hobbies.”

“Oh,” you said, unsure of how to reply. “W-What game is that?”

“It’s called Red Dead Redemption.” Jungkook told you, “Would you like to play it?”

“Oh, no thanks.” You shook your head at him, eyes wide. “It sounds like a violent game, so… I’d rather not, if that’s ok with you.” He smiled, as if bemused by your words, and stands up, pulling you up as well. 

“You don’t have to play that game, I have many.” As he spoke, he walked backwards into the room, drawing you along with him by your hands. You liked holding hands with him more than you would care to admit. 

“What games do you have, then?”

“Well,” he started off, as if preparing to rattle off a billion different games and honestly, it wouldn’t surprise you if he did. “I have Overwatch, Skyrim,” he leant down to look at the stacks of cases he had on the TV cradle, reading off the spines of the cases, “…Mario-Kart-”

“Yes!” You burst out, “I want to play that one. Can I play that one?” He chuckled, then nodded, picking out the case and opening it,

“Of course you can, baby. Have you played it before?” You shook your head regretfully and he laughed again.

“My friend had it, but she never let me play. I always had to just watch her play it. She was a bitch.” You pouted, and he snorted.

“How long ago was this, exactly?”

“I was seven.”

“And you still remember?”

“It’s not the kind of thing you forget, Jungkook.”

Five minutes later, once Jungkook had finally stopped laughing, the game was all set up and you were picking your avatar. For some reason, you had expected Jungkook to leave once he had put the game on, as you knew he wasn’t patient enough to just watch you play, but instead, he sat down next to you, leaving almost no distance between the two of you and causing your traitorous heart to gallop faster than you were going to be able to drive in Mario Kart. You were kind of worried, you didn’t want him to think you were inept or something. 

“Ok, so now you’re meant to pick what to drive as.” Jungkook explained and you scowled slightly.

“I know that.” 

“Ah,” he smiled, the edges of his lips curling into that smirk that you couldn’t look directly at, “Don’t get bratty, Princess. You asked for my help, remember?” You did not deign to answer that question, but it was mostly because you were unsure how steady your voice would sound after he called you ‘Princess’. 

“So, who’re you going to choose?” He asked, before raising an amused eyebrow and turning to you, shortening the precious distance between you even more, “Princess Peach?” 

“…No.” 

You were going to choose Princess Peach, but obviously now you would rather die than prove the smug bastard right.

“What are you going to pick then?”

“…Not Princess Peach.” Jungkook huffed a laugh, before leaning in even closer to you. You could feel his warm breath brush against your cheek as he came to a pause right in front of you. His expression practically dared you to say something, to react, but you kept perfectly still as he reached over and plucked your controller from your hands. 

He selected Princess Peach.

The first game was… bad. There was no other way to put it. You came in 8th out of 8. Jungkook didn’t even try and pretend he wasn’t laughing at you as you went off the tracks again and again, at one point you even started driving in the opposite direction. That was probably when Jungkook tried to drink and then accidentally snorted the banana milk up his nose so hard he couldn’t breathe. After you achieved three more last-places, he seemed to eventually recover from his laughter-induced lactose attack.

“Let me help you.” His voice was low, and smooth, and you know you should have said no, but you couldn’t form the word. He reached one arm around your torso, bending round to put his hand atop yours on the controller, and then sidled up even closer to you so that his other hand was on top of your other hand. It was like some kind of awkward side hug. You voiced this complaint, and without further ado, Jungkook simply lifted you into his lap so that both his arms were wrapped around you, coming to rest on the controller that you were now holding with white knuckles. You weren’t sure whether the squeak you emitted was due to plain surprise, or shock that he could lift you that easily, or just sitting in his lap, but it made you flush deeply all the same. Jungkook said nothing, but you could practically feel his smirk. 

“You’ve just got to relax.” Jungkook purred in your ear, and you found the tension in your body leaking away, obedient to his command. “Good girl.” You whimpered slightly, and you definitely felt his smirk that time. 

“Don’t panic when the race starts, just keep your cool, and focus.” His advice made you determined to prove yourself — not to him, of course. You didn’t care what he thought. At all. 

The race started and Jungkook pressed his thumb down on top of yours, pushing the button and somehow you were in first place. You felt the excitement bubble within you but you didn’t let that distract you, allowing Jungkook’s warm breath on the back of your neck calm you and centre you in a way you were surprised it was able to. As you reached the final lap of the race, Junkook was barely playing, just letting you take control to cross the finish line. And you did.

You won! You couldn’t believe it! Before you could even stop to think, you turned around in Jungkook’s lap so you were straddling him. From there, it was only natural to lean in and press your lips to his. You distantly registered that you were kissing Jungkook, then the realisation became a lot less distant when it was joined with the fact that Jungkook was not kissing you back. He had almost frozen, and regret bursted as a sharp and bitter flavour on your tongue, replacing the delicious taste of him immediately. 

You pulled yourself off him, and you would’ve fallen to the floor if you weren’t being held around the waist.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, and then again, louder, “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I- I’m sorry,” you repeated it over and over, trying with increasing desperation to get away from him and back to your room where you planned to be screaming into a pillow for the next millennia. But you couldn’t get away.

“I’m sorry, just- what-” You looked down to see the reason why you couldn’t get away: Jungkook’s arms were locked around your waist, holding you tightly. As you looked down at them, they tightened quickly causing you to pitch forwards into his chest. You looked up again. 

His face had morphed from the expression of shock into the widest, brightest, most devastating bunny-smile you had ever seen him wear. 

“I- huh?” You stuttered, feeling more confused than you had ever felt in your life. His smile sweetened slightly as he leaned in to bump your forehead with his.

“Do you know how long I have been waiting to kiss you, baby?” His eyes were on you, as if expecting an answer, so you shook your head dumbly in response. He screwed his eyes shut, as if almost in pain, and you felt the irrational urge to soothe him swell within you.

“So long, baby. Too long.” He opened his eyes again to peer at you, “And now you say sorry for kissing me? Never say that again, Princess.”

“I-” It was difficult to speak, your lips were tingling what with all this talk about kisses, and you really weren’t sure where Jungkook was going with this. “I just- you didn’t kiss me back.”

“Baby,” started Jungkook, his voice dripping with sincerity, “Do you really expect me to be able to focus on moving my lips when I am experiencing a life-changing moment?” You giggled slightly, and he laughed with you, reaching up to cup your face in his hands.

“I have been wanting to kiss you since the day I saw you, and for a long time, I thought… Well, I thought it would take you much longer to like me. I just wasn’t prepared for it, that’s all.” His sweet smile bolstered your confidence, and you found yourself saying,

“So, if I were to… kiss you now, you would respond this time?”

Jungkook’s grin turned deadly.

“I guess you’ll have to try it out and see.”

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Mermay - Dilliam - Calming the Merman

After the human sister and merfolk brother had an argument, Mark and William decide they need to step in to try and find a solution. Mark goes to talk to his fiancée, while William makes the trip outside to find Damien. Hopefully it goes well…

Word Count: 1,664

Part One, Part Two.

-

William carefully made his way down the steps to the rock pool. It was easier to navigate without the clunky boot toppling him off-balance, but it inspired him to consider making a safety railing to make it less treacherous. When he reached the bottom, he noticed that Damien was nowhere to be seen, confirming his hunch that something happened between the siblings. But rather than making it look too obvious that he was checking in on Damien, he pulled out his small notebook and pencil and began making notes. He didn't try being quiet either, as he counted the steps he took to the picnic bench, hummed and muttered to himself about various modifications, argued with himself about the pros and cons of a little wall at the bottom of the walkway, and even opened and closed the chest hidden in the rocks to test the condition of the hinges.

William's knocking of the picnic bench was the last straw as Damien slowly raised his head out of the water. William - who was mid-knock - froze at the sight of the glare he'd get from Celine in a more intimidating mer variant. 

"Pray tell there is a reason that you're making such a racket." William gulped, slowly lowering his hand back to the table.

"I didn't think anyone was here, so I thought I'd come down and start planning ahead -"

"Oh, yes. To go with whatever is needed to turn this into my 'home'. You don't need to work on anything. I don't need an enclosure."

-

"Enclosure?" William repeated with a confused blink. "I'm trying to see how I can weather-and-ocean-proof this place. Did you see this bench? It's not even painted, let alone varnished. It'll be ripped apart in a few years." Damien glared at William for several, long seconds before he sighed.

"Fine. Whatever. Just stop being so noisy." He began to move to go back under the water, only that William called his name.

"Wait wait! I need a second opinion. What colour should the bench be?"

"Why should I care? Any wood colour will be fine."

"But it can be painted any colour. The varnish to protect it would go on afterward and that dries clear. We could paint this like the rainbow if you wanted. Well, have a think about it." He was going to leave it at that, but should Damien be allowed to sulk underwater? "Actually, before you go, can you check something for me?" Damien rolled his eyes, but was too polite to simply refuse.

"... What?"

"The rocks. What are the bases like? Will they need any sort of support to keep them in place?" Damien nodded at the request and ducked under the surface.

"The rocks are well grounded. Storms shouldn't knock them," he responded once he emerged, "But you shouldn't put anything in between the rocks either. See how they're shaped? The water has gradually eroded them over the years. It means the water will flow through without causing disruption. Putting anything in the gaps would only create a blockade that would harm the creatures that make their home on the rocks underwater."

"Huh… I never considered that. So is it safe there?" Damien's nod had William quickly taking notes in his book. 

"Since the base of the rocks are closer together, it's the perfect spot to sleep without being disturbed. I don't need any sort of shelter."

"I wasn't going to build a shelter," William quickly reminded him.

"Sure. Celine probably told you she wanted somewhere for me to live and feel part of the family, right?" No answer. "Thought so. I'm only giving you the benefit of doubt since all this is new to you, but merfolk aren't the same as humans." William, genuinely interested in what he was being told, moved around the picnic table so he could sit on the ground closest to Damien. "Merfolk don’t live in ‘homes’. Instead, they have nests in a community setting. It's in our instinct to travel throughout the year. The distance and duration depends on the species, from what I've seen. Some migrate to warmer waters, others travel if they desire to breed -"

"Is that why you travel so much?" Damien's glare and raised fins had William whip his hands up in self-defence again. "I'm curious! I'm a man who travels a lot as well!" 

"I suppose you might understand better than others, mayhaps." His collarbone fins settled down to their normal position again as he swam forward to lean against one of the rocks protecting the path beside William. "It started from trying to find our distant relatives when I was old enough to make the voyage across the Pacific. Over time, it became fuelled by my need to understand mer culture. Being raised like a human child has its advantages, but I missed a lot of vital skills and cues that would help me as an adult. I had certain habits as a child that my family thought were merely quirks, but they were instincts I was trying to develop, and had to relearn in later years. I couldn't hold it against them - no one in my family knew what to do - but they have a habit of trying to… humanise me, I suppose." Damien rested his chin on the cool rock with a sigh, the tip of his tail idly bobbing up and down.

"In them trying to do what's best for you, they think of it from a human point of view?" At least, that's how William was understanding it. The merman nodded solemnly as his eyes lowered to the rocks.

"It sounds like I'm so ungrateful for everything they've done, doesn't it?"

"I don't think so. You know what's best for you. And I've been tasked to do right by you. So… What would you like done here?" When Damien looked up at the question, William felt his heart tighten in sympathy for the poor merman. "What I mean is - can you think of anything that might make this place feel a little more homely by merfolk standard? I've done handiwork in houses before, but never nesting grounds. If we're doing this, it needs to be done right. But I’ll be working in the house first, so whatever needs to be done here will be a little lower down the list. And even then, I have small tasks to do here first - like, did no one think of buying a box with waterproofed hinges? They're already starting to rust. I could probably find paint to have it blend it better into the rocks and -"

"William?" Damien's voice cut the rambling clean in two. "Thank you. It's nice talking to someone who has no experience with any of this but who wants to learn. I feel like you honestly want to listen to me instead of deciding on my behalf. I’ll have a think about your offer." William looked down. The pair locked eyes and smiled simultaneously.

"You're welcome. But between you and me, I'd choose your opinion over Celine's when it comes to the rock pool."

"I'd certainly hope so. This isn't even a rock pool. It's a rocky shore. You see how the rocks slope gradually at the base of the cliff? It would normally be hidden by sand on the beaches you might be used to. A rock pool is a shallow pool of water that forms in rock that has been eroded by the tide over many years."

"Oh. I didn't know that. I thought it was called a rock pool since this section looks a little like a swimming pool surrounded by rocks? You know, the rocks stop the tide pulling you away in this little bit, but then you can go that way into the proper ocean?"

Damien paused, lifting his head to take in the surroundings with a different viewpoint. As he realised that William was right, he giggled. The soldier had to quickly rely on years of military practice to keep a straight face. That sound was unlike anything he had heard before, including previous times Damien laughed. It was music to his ears. He was enthralled.

"I wouldn't be opposed to calling this place 'The Rockpool' for that reason. Mayhaps we could ask Celine to make a sign…. Oh no." Memories of their last conversation came back to him in a flash. "I was so angry at her earlier. Could… Could you fetch her for me? I need to apologise. I should know better than to lose my temper. It isn't right." As much as he wanted to continue talking to William, he needed to set things right. William seemed to agree as he slowly climbed to his feet and stretched.

"Clearing the air is a good idea. I can tell you that she doesn't want to build you a house. All she wants is for you to feel comfortable, but perhaps she doesn't fully know what that is since she might actually be thinking from a human standpoint." William slowly shook life back into his legs as he added, "For what it's worth, I'll be doing the work. Whatever happens here will need your approval first. End of." It was a reassurance that worked wonders. He dismissed himself and made his way toward the steps to find Celine.

"Orange!"

"Pardon?" William was barely halfway up the stairs before he spun around to the water. Damien had swum across the pool toward the steps, his demeanour already brighter.

"I want the picnic table to be orange! Some of the corals I love in the nesting grounds are orange."

"Orange it is!" William gave a salute and picked up the pace to hurry back inside. Once out of sight, Damien dove back into the water to quickly do laps and shake off some of the energy that built up while talking to William. What was it about William that made Damien feel like everything was going to be alright?

Was this love?

[fernthewhimsical]

Gender in Witchcraft, pt. 2

In my last post I dove (or well, dipped my toes) into the history of gender in witchcraft, to see where our thoughts and visions on gender come from. When I was thinking and journaling about gender and witchcraft came the question: does it matter? Does it matter in our magic whether we focus on gender?

For witchcraft and paganism in general I would say yes and no. Yes because we are a path that stands up for the marginalized, and being yourself and being true to yourself is something we value a lot. To know yourself, to truly and fully know who you are as a person, can hold great power. Exploring gender and what this means to you can be a (big) part of that. It can also reveal shadows; suppressed parts of ourselves that often have to do with trauma or pain, that we often have to work through. Standing in your own power with confidence and pride can spring powerful magic. Acknowledging and owning your truths can be super empowering! So therefore I do think it’s important for women (and I mean all women) to have a space where they can be themselves without the pressure of what society expects from them. A space to talk about the things that concern us, as women. The problems that we run in to and the worries and sorrows that we have. To find the strength and power of being a woman without the weight of the patriarchy on our shoulders. I also think it’s important that men (and I mean all men) have a space where they can be themselves without the pressure of what society expects from them. A space to talk about the things they run into, in this society that portrays them as “the bad guy”. To explore a version of masculinity that isn’t toxic. A place to connect to others in an emotional and deep, meaningful way. To form a brotherhood that is not about being a warrior and being aggressive, but instead is gentle and soft in the same way we feminists see our sisterhood. That is what I wish for them. And for all of us who fall outside of that binary, I wish the same thing. A space to explore what gender means, what falling outside of the norm entails and the troubles that we face because of that. To explore how that influences spirituality, connection, life in general. To find power and strength in being who we are, openly. So yes, it can be very important to focus on gender, even (or perhaps especially) in spirituality.

However, there is another side of this coin. Discrimination is, unfortunately, also found in our community and has been there since the very beginning. Gardner was a misogynist and a homophobe. He created a “sacred” rite which hinged on him, and other High Priests, to have sexual intercourse with young women. Gay and lesbian people were not allowed into Wiccan covens for many years under the guise of the Wiccan Laws. In 2011 on PantheaCon a group of Dianic Wiccans refused entrance to Transwomen who wished to participate in a women’s only ritual, stating that only women born with a womb were allowed to enter. Budapest, the founder of Dianic Wicca, came out with a statement which was, frankly, hurtful and outrageous. Claiming that “transies” (her word, not mine) were just men trying to encroach on women’s spaces again. This incident, which was in no way the first, sparked a lot of (trans)people speaking out against gender discrimination in our traditions. Then there are those who take the “divine feminine” and “divine masculine” so far that it becomes toxic. An example of this is the phenomenon of the “twin flame”. Like many spiritual beliefs, it has been ripped out of context and is now to many an idea where every woman, a.k.a. the Divine Feminine, has a perfect soulmate somewhere out there, their man, a.k.a. the Divine Masculine. They claim it is our divine duty as women to heal men, so they can step into their power as true divine masculine. With lovely ripped-out-of-context poetry like: “If you want to change the world, love a man; really love him” and “Because you have a womb, a sweet, deep gateway to wash and renew old wounds.” That last one is because we (supposedly) should see the “ancestral burden” of all the confused, angry warrior-men who came before him and we, as women, can heal that with the magical power of our wombs. Right. The idea that “feminine” means that you have to heal others, that you have to be “of service” to those in need (not just men), that you have to use your “divine gifts” of gentleness, and patience, and true love to better the world is extremely toxic! Just like the idea that all men (yes, all men, apparently) are these wounded little boys stuck in a violent rampage of fear and ancestral aggression is. Does that sound healthy to you? Then there are the women’s movements who believe, like the Dianics mentioned above, that you can only truly connect with the inner feminine goddess if you have a womb. After all, life is created from the womb, it is the source of all living things (or so they believe). So if you don’t have one, either because you weren’t born biologically female or because of medical procedures like a hysterectomy, because of, say, cancer, you aren’t a woman (anymore). And some take it even further. Since life comes from the womb, you are only truly a woman if you’ve given birth. So anyone who can’t, for whatever reason, or anyone who doesn’t want children, is no longer a woman. Which is of course insane, hurtful and extremely toxic. Also, I don’t know about you, but I find it extremely offensive to be reduced to a single body part. The only value I have, according to some of these feminist fringe “goddess” movements, is a womb. And sometimes a vagina. Aren’t we always accusing men of reducing us to that? Now we’re doing it to ourselves as well, but it’s in the name of spirituality so it’s okay? Hell no! I am more than a womb. You are more than a womb, or a penis, or boobs, or a vagina. We’re people! Our body parts don’t define us.

Does it matter in our magic whether we focus on gender? No, because gender is something earthly, something of our societal world, and witchcraft is from the fringes, from outside polite society. We work in the liminal, in the in-between. In both the realm of spirit and the mundane. We work in the shadows. With a lot of our workings, we go beyond the physical. I spoke about the Gods in my first post. There are a lot of Gods who are shapeshifters, some of whom can also change between genders: Zeus, Loki, Dionysus. There are also Gods who are neither man nor woman, or a combination of both: Hermaphroditus, Hapi, the Christian God. There are Gods who were known to have both a male and female form: Fosta, Aphrodite, Shiva. There are Gods who could upon request change the sex of mortals: Inanna, Isis. In myth gender is a very fluid thing. Sometimes it matters a lot, usually in stories about humiliation or love, but mostly it doesn’t matter at all. We, as pagans and sometimes as witches, take a lot of inspiration from our Gods. We see (part of) ourselves reflected in what they stand for, or in their stories. So if for them gender is something fluid, something that could change one way or another, or glide along something of a spectrum, then why would ours be one or the other? If we work with them in our space, in our world between worlds, then wouldn’t we then also be granted  to be something else? To rise above the expectations that modern society holds for us? Not to mention the many cultures whose shamans, spirit helpers, guides, witch doctors, clergy and magical practitioners were not man ór woman. To become rigid in your magical focus, on any subject, is to limit yourself. It’s important to keep an open mind. To keep yourself acceptive of change, or you’ll grow stagnant. This is true for any part of witchcraft and paganism, so also with gender. It’s okay, and perhaps sometimes good, to focus on what it means to you. But don’t let this focus limit yourself and your magic.

Up next: let’s get personal!

(First found on my blog)

[onthepageoftears]

What Was Lost —  Pt 2 (Jaskier x Reader) || Witcher

A/N: And part two is here! Thank you everyone for reading, and also thank you to all my new followers! A reminder that I now have a taglist, so don’t be afraid to sign up through the google doc I created (the link is in my description) :) Also, this is my fourth @thewitcherbingo entry, whoop! Enjoy!

Summary: Y/N, a famous bard, is cursed by a sorceress and loses her voice, leaving her only hope to get it back with the famous Witcher and her rival, Jaskier.

(based on this post)

Bingo Square Filled: Road Trip

Warnings: grief, language, angst, fluff!!

Words: 2,047

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

(Pt 1)

Though you were a traveling bard, this trip seemed excruciatingly long. Geralt insisted on taking the paths with little to no interaction of villages, meaning you couldn’t even stop to talk to the townsfolk. Not that you could anyway. But still, a big part of traveling was meeting the people, and with Geralt, that was the last thing on his mind.

It didn’t take long on the trip for you and Jaskier to start making music. Despite your lost voice, you couldn’t keep yourself away from your lute. And even though you learned that Geralt cherished his peace and quiet, you also learned that Jaskier didn’t give two fucks. So, the two of you made a great team in annoying the Witcher, one chord at a time.

You secretly thanked the gods that Jaskier was there. When before your rivalry was a playful past-time, now it was almost completely gone. What replaced it was…a friendship, which was something you realized you never really had until now. Watching the bard perform had been a pleasure, sure — but performing with him was so much more exhilarating. You couldn’t wait to get your voice back so you two could sing the best songs both of you would ever write. It was a bold statement, but something felt right in your gut as the two of you wrote random lyrics and came up with new chord progressions in your downtime.

It was the night before visiting the sorceress, and Jaskier was strumming his lute and humming along. You watched him with your body leaning against a tree trunk, smiling as he made nonsense lyrics and fucked up his chords repeatedly.

As you listened to Jaskier strum away, your smile faded. In the short bursts of time that you were enjoying yourself, you would suddenly remember what circumstances you were under. In a matter of seconds, like the flip of a coin, your mood shifted. Your heart jumped to your throat as the same questions you had been mulling over for the past few days swirled in your mind. What if the sorceress wasn’t where Geralt thought she was? What if she refused to give you your voice back? What if you could never sing again?

“Y/N?” Jaskier’s voice took you out of your trance; his hands were no longer playing the lute, and instead, he looked at you with concern. “You’re not crying because of my singing, are you?”

You laughed, though no sound came out. The sick feeling returned to your stomach as you wiped the tears from your cheeks; you picked up the notebook beside you and wrote: your singing is the least of my pain right now.

“I take that as a compliment.” Jaskier gestured to the lute in his hands. “In that case, any requests?”

You gave him a sad smile before writing in the notebook: I want my voice back.

“Hm. Well, I’m not familiar with that one…” His amused smile faltered when yours didn’t appear. He placed the lute on the ground next to him and focused on you. His jaw clenched as it searched your face. “We will get it back.”

You nodded your head but turned away from Jaskier’s gaze. You were still unconvinced; you decided to change the subject.

You pursed your lips as you wrote: do you hate me? Then turned it to Jaskier.

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “If I hated you, would I have gone on this journey to find your voice?” You just stared at him, each blink more dramatic than the next. He rolled his eyes harder. “I don’t hate you.” He sighed, then quirked a brow. “Do you hate me?”

You smirked, then wrote: next question.

Jaskier groaned. “Now come, that’s not fair.”

You shrugged and made a ‘zip the lip’ motion. Jaskier grumbled to himself and turned back to his lute, where he began strumming a song you two thought up just the other day.

—

“This is the place.”

You didn’t know what you expected. A large castle, maybe a few guards standing out front. Possibly some rabid animals ready to attack. After the surprisingly long trip, you thought the climax to your journey would lead to a crazy battle — at the least. But this…this was anything but that. It was a small hut, barely sturdy looking. You were positive that if you threw a rock at the front door it would fall off its hinges. You supposed the sorceress had some sort of magic enchantment on the structure, keeping it upright. If she didn’t, the walls were sure to fall down come the next storm.

Jaskier must have been thinking the same thing, as his nose was scrunched up. “Are you sure this is the place?”

“This is where she was last time I saw her.”

“Which was?”

Geralt blinked. “The last time I saw her.”

“Great. Fantastic.” Jaskier threw his arm forward. “Lead the way.”

As Geralt walked towards the hut, you felt your stomach drop. This was the moment of truth. This was the end of your journey.

Jaskier placed a hand on your arm. “Are you ready?” You nodded. It was now or never.

You were grateful that Geralt and Jaskier went in first; your stomach did about twenty-five flips as you followed them into the hut, your head whipping from side to side as you looked for the sorceress.

The hut was filled with dozens and dozens of trinkets; you thought if you breathed they would fall over. Bottles of random ingredients, liquids and solids alike, filled shelves that lined the walls.

“Fidelia.” Geralt spoke, making you turn your head to the corner of the room. There stood the familiar sorceress, smiling the same smile she did a couple nights ago. You shivered.

“Geralt. How strange it is to see you again.” Her eyes flicked to Jaskier, then quickly to you. “Ah. I see.”

Jaskier cleared his throat, “We’ve come to…ah, claim Y/N’s voice back.”

The sorceress — Fidelia, nodded. “That you did."

The room grew quiet as Fidelia squinted her eyes at Jaskier, then back to you. It would have been awkward if not for Geralt’s interruption.

“Fidelia. Her voice.”

“Yes, yes.” Fidelia brought her eyes back to you. She closed her eyes and breathed in, listened. It made you feel self-conscious, like she was listening to your thoughts. Which, maybe she was.

Luckily, she didn’t close her eyes for long. In fact, only a couple seconds after, she smiled. “Looks to me like you found what you needed.” The sorceress winked at you and stepped away to reach into a cabinet nearby. She pulled out the jar she had the night you met her. “Open this up and your voice will find its way back to you. Be patient. It will settle when it is ready.”

You tentatively took the jar from her hands, almost expecting her to rip it away. When she didn’t, you hugged it to your chest.

Geralt’s body weight creaked on the wooden floor as he leaned forward. “If I hear about something like this again—“

“You’ll never let me hear the end of it. I understand. Stay a bit, Geralt, so we can catch up. I might have a favor to ask you.” She turned to you, her smile as fresh as ever. “Take care now, darling.”

You barely nodded before gripping Jaskier’s sleeve and pulling him out of the hut, leaving Geralt and Fidelia to reminisce on whatever times they shared.

As soon as the door closed behind you, you took a deep breath. Your heart banged in your chest, begging you to get further away from the hut, just in case. You motioned for Jaskier to follow you and ran down towards the river that you had passed on the way to the hut.

You finally caught your breath as you sat down on a log near the river. The sound of frogs filled your ears and you breathed in again, this time feeling more at ease. You looked down at the jar and wondered, just for a second, if the return of your voice would hurt. Shaking that thought away, you uncapped the lid, bracing yourself for the worst. All you felt was a small gust of wind — then, nothing.

“So.” Jaskier sat on the log next to you and nudged your shoulder. “Have you truly...found what you needed?”

You took a big gulp and looked down at the jar in your hands. It was such a fragile thing, and just minutes ago it held an even more fragile part of yourself. You could now only hope that your voice was back — though the sorceress said it may take a while, your faith was flickering.

You looked to Jaskier and shrugged, a sad smile forming on your lips. For some reason, you thought back to your childhood — to the mother you never had, the father you wish you knew longer. Your eyes teared up at the thought of all that you had lost in the past; you wondered why the world had to take so much away from you, and why, when you were just beginning to feel better, more was taken away.

But now it was back, in your hands. And still, you felt like something was missing.

“You know, what I said about your voice. It wasn’t true.” You turned your head towards Jaskier; he was looking at a tree in the distance, probably avoiding your eyes. “At the tavern. And before that. None of it was true.”

You smiled at Jaskier, but the smile turned to a frown. I want to help you find what you were missing. This whole time, you thought what you were missing was your voice. Surely, that was part of it, but...maybe what the sorceress had meant wasn’t your voice — it was your companions. So many years after losing what was left of your family, and finally, you found a new family of your own. You had been traveling the Continent for years trying to fill the gap in your life that music couldn’t; and now, the gap was nearly overflowing.

You turned to Jaskier, heart brimming with… love? Excitement? You didn’t know. But it didn’t matter. All you wanted was the be with Jaskier for the rest of your life — for forever. Though you still couldn’t speak, his eyes caught yours at just the right moment; at that moment, he smiled. You smiled. And you grabbed his face and brought it to your own, capturing his lips with all the words you wanted to say to him, all the songs you wanted to sing with him. And he responded, placing his hands firmly on your waist, allowing you to lean into his grip, feeling the steadiness that his presence brought you.

At the feeling of his hands on your hips, you hummed; his touch brought butterflies to your stomach, butterflies you hadn’t felt in a long time. But then, your eyes opened wide with realization. You hummed.

You broke the kiss with your own smile and pulled back with a laugh.

“Thank the gods!” Your voice was husky, barely a whisper, but it was enough. Your smile stretched at the sound of your own voice; though it had only been gone for around a week, it felt like an eternity.

“I never thought I’d be saying this.” Jaskier’s smile lifted into a teasing smirk. He brought a hand to your face and wiped away a happy tear that fell without you knowing it. “But I am glad to hear your voice again.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but decided better of it. Jaskier watched you with a furrowed brow as you reached for the notebook you were carrying around; his eyes followed your hand as it wrote two words onto the page: Fuck off.

“I will definitely take that into consideration.” Jaskier nodded thoughtfully and pulled you in for another kiss; as his hands traced the sides of your face, you silently thanked the sorceress for forcing you on this journey — though, part of you still wanted Geralt to kick her in the face while you laughed as loudly as your lovely voice would allow. 

But maybe that was a bit harsh.

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Tags: @trees-fanfic​, @sdavid09​, @mystrade-shipper​

(if you want to be added/removed to/from the taglist, don’t be afraid to send me a message or sign up via the link in my description)

[nice-kill-tanaka]

Hi! I read all your x readers and love them! I especially loved the Bakugou x Rough and Tough Crush, I was wondering if you do a part 2 of that one? Where the squad are trying to get the two together.

Of course Nony! Glad you liked my self indulgent work 🥰

—————

🌄Bakugo + Rough And Tough Crush: Part 2🌌

Looking for the whole set? Take Part 1 right here!

Summary: The Bakusquad gets a little sick of watching you and Bakugo pine after each other in your own...special ways. So, it was decided to devise a plan to get you two crazy kids together!!

A/N: Me, internally: First request, don’t mess it up, first request, don’t mess it up, first request, don’t mess it up, first request, don’t mess it up-

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💥Katsuki Bakugo💥

Let’s start by looking at your end of the pining stick

When Bakugo started treating you differently (like an equal/rival rather than a hurdle to trample on) your own perspective started to shift

You now knew what it was like to be on Boom Boom Boy’s good side. And if you were being honest? It was fun as hell 🔥🔥

Nothing got under your skin very easily, so you took Bakugo’s aggressive taunts and jeers as petty opportunities to take him up on his challenges

What’s better than a free chance to get stronger??? (Mentally, emotionally, and physically)

It wasn’t very long before you began to find Bakugo’s unwavering passion and drive attractive rather than amusing. You wanted to see more of it, to draw it out, to match it

That wild and determined smirk he used past bared teeth when you bested him would really make you feel some type of way 😳

But Y/N is currently a single-brain-celled bastard in this household

My dude, you don’t even misinterpret your feelings. You're just incapable of giving them a label 😭

You just know that you have warm and fuzzy sensations in your stomach whenever Bakugo is being uniquely himself, which you mistook for indigestion on multiple occasions

Y’all are so freaking dumb it actually hurts 😭😭😭

((^^The Bakusquad’s general consensus on you and Bakugo’s mutual pining))

Which brings us to how the Bakusquad decided to go about bringing you hotheaded lovers together

Kirishima casually suggested that they let you two get together on your own, but was out-voted in favor of putting an end to the infinite frustration that came with watching two people crushing on each other and not doing anything about it

Mina and Jiro thought of the first plan:

They’d have a movie night for everyone in the friend group and Mina would conveniently choose a ✨romance✨ movie. The rest on the squad would think of lame excuses to leave in the middle of the film, leaving only you and Bakugo alone (hopefully on the same couch). If things went well, you two would be together by the end of the movie

Their reasoning was that if the concept of romance was introduced at the right time, you’d both feel more inclined to confess your own feelings 

It seemed feasible enough, so the plan was set into motion

As expected, the moment Mina pulled out the Blue-Ray box, Bakugo started to grumble about how corny the film was gonna be

But, Jiro caught a glimpse of you leaning over and muttering something to Bakugo, out of earshot of everyone else

Immediately, Bakugo began to loosen his shoulders, still not happy about the genre, but more complacent. He slouched into the couch and endured it like an adult

During the movie, especially the more romantic moments, the squad constantly stole glances towards you and Bakugo. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to look at

Bakugo, in the same position as the beginning, didn’t seem bored, but like he’d rather be doing anything else at the moment. His eyes were glued to the screen in a judgmental stare, but that he dared not say anything to ruin a certain person’s experience

You, however, looked like you were enjoying the movie! However muted your position might have looked. Though you weren’t enjoying it cause it was good. Oh no, you looked like you wanted to ✨a s c e n d✨ into orbit with laughter every ten seconds

For the sake of letting the rest of the Bakusquad enjoy the romance aspect, you limited your actions to biting your fist whenever something hopelessly cringy happened

Any longer than the halfway point, and you would’ve broken down in a fit of hysterical laughter, roasts, and jeers at the screen

Soon enough, the rest of the group made their excuses to leave the room momentarily, disappointed with their results

But, when they came back, something beautiful had occurred 

“Why the hell is she running back to the apartment?? HE CHEATED ON YOU?? KILL ‘IM??”

“SKSKSKS- Okay, but wtf is her FACE?! Is that supposed to be distress?? Freakin’ ahegao faceass.”

Bakugo was deadpan roasting the movie with an amused smirk. While you were coming after it with the gusto of Monoma coming after 1-A, snorting with every comment Bakugo made

Neither of you had even noticed everyone else come into the room

(Apparently, you had told Bakugo earlier that you two can shit on the movie all you wanted once you were alone)

Alright...not exactly the plan. But, possibly a step in the right direction

Sero and Kaminari thought of the next “plan”

I only put quotations, because it’s hardly thought out enough to call it one

It was literally just locking you and Bakugo in a closet 🤡🤡

Don’t worry Sero and Kaminari, I’ll play Taps at your funerals 🎺🎺🎺

You and Bakugo didn’t even have a genuine conversation in the closet...You were too busy yelling various profanities at your friends

“Dude, it’s really FUCKING HOT in here. Let us out while I’m still feeling nice!!”

“I’ll murder you bastards when we get out of here!!! You better start running now.”

Btw, you both ended up making it out of there on your own

You managed to deck the doorknob hard enough to break it off, giving Bakugo enough leeway to blow the door off its hinges

Bakugo took care of Kaminari, while you caught and hogtied Sero with his own tape 

You gave each other congratulatory fist bumps afterwards 😚

Despite the rest of the Bakusquad miserably failing in their schemes, their setups did help develop you and Bakugo’s relationship. Just not as fast as they hoped

You had become a pair that could laugh and fight together. Being each other’s advocate became a source of pride for you both

You were all set to become a romantic couple 

But, what actually brings you together??

Well, it went something like this:

I’m not too sure of the exact details, but I know that you and Bakugo were having an extra intense training session

Things were starting to get a bit sloppy, as your bodies were getting tired, but your morale was just as strong as ever

It could’ve just been a freak accident, or something neither of you saw coming

But, the point is: Either of you could’ve gotten really hurt, had you not been the tough cookies you are

In your perspective, you were oblivious to the danger that you had been in. And if you did know, you didn’t particularly care. You only saw that the person you cared about most in U.A. could’ve gotten hurt

The idea of that happening, and it being your fault (or, not being able to do anything about it) really rubbed you the wrong way. You were mostly angry at yourself

But, you took it out on Bakugo

Because you were the first aggressor, Bakugo responded with what he knew best: Aggression

Yes, he was absolutely mad at himself for putting you in danger. But, what made the feeling worse, was that you refused to acknowledge that you could’ve been injured as well

Your blatant lack of self-preservation pissed him off. Why couldn’t you care about yourself the way he cared about you?!

On the outside looking in, the fighting was far too intense for any peer of yours to try and break it up

Yelling, cursing, but neither of you put your hands on each other (Like you usually did when you play fought)

Strangely enough, I think that’s how you could tell the situation was serious

Finally, your emotions had reached their climax. All caution had gone to the wind at that point

You weren’t even thinking when you yelled the next thing in Bakugo’s face

“DO YOU THINK I’D FUCKING YELL AT YOU IF YOU DIDN’T MEAN THE GODDAMN WORLD TO ME?!”

“WELL FUCK YOU IF YOU THINK THAT YOU’RE ANY LESS IMPORTANT TO ME THAN I AM TO YOU.”

At that moment, you both turned away to storm off before abruptly stopping in your tracks

“What?!” You said in unison, registering what you both had heard and said

You sighed, frustrated at your own stupidity, unclenching your fists and begrudgingly explaining your true feelings to the seething object of your affections

As you spoke, you were realizing just how whipped you were for Bakugo. And how you didn’t know it until you were given the opportunity to blurt it out with pure emotion

Your words weren’t very poetic (You actually sounded very constipated), but what you said was what you felt in its rawest form

Bakugo could hardly think of what to do next. His crush was reciprocated and they confessed first??? Wtf???

His silence made you uncomfortable, and you didn’t feel like blowing up again. You huffed, shoved your hands in your pockets, and turned to stalk away, unsure of what to do next

Before you could completely turn on your heel though, you felt yourself being roughly shoved against a nearby wall

You weren’t even given time to react, because as soon as your back made contact with the wall, a warm, caramel-scented sensation met your lips

The kiss you had just registered didn’t even last two seconds, but the lingering feeling stuck with you as your brain effectively shorted out

“Yo, wh-what was that??”

Bakugo was impossibly red, one hand still on your shoulder, keeping you in place. Even though he refused to make eye contact with you, it was clear that what he had just done was completely intentional

He scoffed, voice barely above a grumble, “Damn dumbass...you didn’t even give me a chance to respond...”

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[🌌 There you go bud! That’s one set of headcanons for the road. Hopefully it lasts for a while, but if it doesn’t, feel free to come back! I’d be thrilled to see you again.🌄] —Reagan