#2) this prompt makes me think of the flower silent princess from breath of the wild (and probably other zelda games) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blouisparadise · 4 years ago

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Here is a list of amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of January. Between the third month of the Bottom Louis Fic Fest and all the other fics that authors posted throughout the month, it’s clear that this was a great way to start off the year of bottom Louis fics! Happy reading!

1) Leave It All Here In This Bed | Explicit | 1071 words

One of Louis’s many sleepless nights.

2) Games Are Only Fun If You Win | Explicit | 1554 words

Louis and Harry have a bet. If Louis wins that means he's off laundry duty. If he loses well.

Let's just say Harry won't be complaining.

3) If It Makes You Feel Alive | Explicit | 1691 words

Louis is horny one night on the tour bus so he and Harry fuck while trying not to get caught by the others.

4) Beg Me Silently | Explicit | 2140 words

“So, your boyfriend…is he planning a magic night for you at home?”

Louis snorts. “He’s not, actually. He’s pretty hardworking, you see, so he comes home late.”

“Such a shame.” Harry walks towards Louis, so close that they’re sharing the same space. “You’re so beautiful, Louis. If you were mine, I wouldn’t make you wait for me.”

5) Birthday Wishes | Explicit | 2895 words

Note: This is part 3 of this series.

The one where Harry takes Louis to dinner for his birthday, and gifts him with a vibrating butt plug he wears to the restaurant. Fluffy birthday sex follows.

6) New Year, New Beginnings | Explicit | 3577 words

Note: This is part 4 of this series.

The one where Louis and Harry unexpectedly end up at the same New Year's party. Louis makes Harry jealous, and Harry shows him just how bad of an idea that is.

7) Heaven In These Sheets | Explicit | 3557 words

Bunny Hybrid Louis has it out for his boyfriend’s phone.

8) Pits Of Love | Explicit | 3934 words

Harry smells Louis' sweat for the first time after they've moved in together. His alpha goes a bit wild.

9) First Blow Hits You Cold | Explicit | 3986 words

Louis wears a shirt with a big ass H on it for his livestream, and Harry really, really likes it.

10) Close Your Eyes And Surrender To Me | Explicit | 4209 words

Note: This is the sequel to this fic.

Harry hummed and pressed his lips to Louis’ forehead. “I am very stressed, but I also know you’re stressed and tired too.” He glanced to Louis’ face seeing the confirming nod. “But, if you’re sure you’re up for it.” Harry smirked, waiting for Louis to say it was okay before he laid the boy down on the bed and hovered over him. “I really love this color on you. You look so pretty. Always do.” He spoke quietly, rubbing his hands over Louis’ soft thighs and moving them to his tummy. He then moved his hands up to Louis’ hair. It had been a while since Louis’ last haircut and it was now long enough that he could tie it up in little ponytails and even little braids. Louis currently had two hair clips in his hair. One was gold with little stars on it and the other gold with a moon. “I love your hair princess. Do you feel pretty?” He asked.

11) P Is For | Explicit | 4349 words

Note: The pairing for this fic is Louis/Pedro Pascal.

Louis and Pedro, winter in New York, a coffee machine, and bilingualism.

12) Pull Out Your Heart | Explicit | 5028 words

He wants to apologise, the five letters sit on the tip of his tongue but he does not. It means nothing to either of them.

13) Loving You's the Antidote | Explicit | 5070 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 302: Alpha Harry & Omega Louis are divorced but still spend each other’s heat/rut together because they only really trust each other but things get complicated when Louis (or Harry, author’s choice) spend it with someone else. Cue angst with a happy ending.

14) Sweet Talk With A Hint Of Sin | Explicit | 5095 words

“What the hell are you wearing?” Harry had the nerve to ask, and Louis bristled slightly.

“Well, what the bloody fuck does it look like?” Louis snapped, breaking his seductive demeanor momentarily because he was wearing this ridiculous get-up for Harry. He had thought that this would go over well.

And now that the moment was here, it was going anything but.

Harry’s brain seemingly malfunctioned, completely unbothered by the fact that he was now standing in an actual pool of red wine, or that there might even be broken glass directly next to his feet. He was focused solely on his boy splayed out on their bed. “Are those ears?”

“Yes,” Louis mumbled, reaching up to finger the burnt orange fur of the fox ears. “And a tail,” he said, shifting to lay on his stomach so that his perky ass was on display, showing the way his lube slicked hole had been prepped and was now hugging the impressively sized plug attached to the fox tail.

15) New York's Beauty | Mature | 5274 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 104: AU where Harry is an alpha wolf and Louis is a hybrid kitten. They were roommates. While they were arguing about something stupid, Harry wanted to bend Louis over the kitchen table and knot him right there. He slowly accepted his feelings and extreme desire for Louis, so he started to tease the hybrid until he would beg Harry to fuck him. They fall in love.

Louis needs to feel comfortable with the camera so harry fucks him until he is blushing and calm and gentle.

16) I Went Astray To Make It Okay And He Made It Easy | Not Rated | 5537 words

Note: This is a sequel to #17 on this list.

Harry makes sure to put on his blue truckers hat that has 'if you ain't a fisherman, you ain't shit' printed on it to hold back his hair out of his eyes. He remembers when he came home after buying it and Louis went on for days about much he looked like such a Dad. He made sure to fuck him hard that night and show him that he's a fucking DILF not just a Dad.

17) You Make My Heart Beat Like The Rain | Explicit | 6611 words

Note: This is the prequel to #16 on this list.

"You're stunning, eh?" Harry whispers, his Canadian accent thick with lust. It usually slips out when he gets horny because he knows it turns Louis on. Harry presses his lips into the curve of his neck. His hot breath makes Louis shiver. He opens his eyes and sees Harry's bigger, tattooed arms wrapped around him, completely engulfing his smaller frame—and, fuck, maybe he is up for it.

Why does his boyfriend have to be such a fucking DILF? He blames it on a twitter thread he read a few weeks ago.

18) Baby, Let Me Love You Goodbye | Explicit | 6837 words

Harry and Louis are going through a divorce after being together for 10 years, so Louis comes over to collect his things, and, well…what’s a little goodbye sex, just one last time?

19) A Place To Call Home | Mature | 8113 words

The thing is, he’s pretty sure he’s found home in a person in his life, someone who’s been essential in everything he’s done since he was seven years old. Through every broken bone, through every breakup, through every failure; through every triumph, personal and professional, and every goal he has scored in his time in Man U, there’s been someone there for it all.

That’s his best mate. Harry. A twenty-two year old with the kindest heart known to man, a slow drawl that is entirely too endearing, with the dreams to open up his own flower shop. A quiet and earnest boy with those he doesn’t know, and open and honest and absolutely lovely with those he loves.

It all hits him, really, the night of their final game of the Premier League. Again, timing is not his fort��. They’re gearing up, ready to hit the field for the second half against Liverpool that determines their ranking in the League, when his brain decides to come online (after seventeen years, apparently), and conveniently supply him with the revelation that oh yeah, you’re kind of in love with your best friend.

20) To Love Without Reason | Explicit | 8854 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind.

Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic.

“I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.”

Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.

21) It's A Game We Play In The Sheets | Explicit | 9426 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

“Louis is… He’s a boy I’ve been talking to.” He bit his lip, grin evident. “After I watched one of his videos during a Harry Reacts a few weeks ago I messaged him and…”

His sentence was cut short by the sound of a timid little “Hi” being whispered into his ears.

Harry closed his eyes for a second, pausing to take in the online presence of the real-life fairy, before he opened them and smiled. “Hey Lou. Ready to play with me?”

22) One Track Mind | Explicit | 9911 words

“You have a lot of friends, huh?”

Harry nods again. “A few.” The muscles of his bicep flex under Louis’ touch, and the alpha looks a bit drunk from the feeling, his eyes blinking slower and lips quirking at the corners. He’s leaning in, his alpha scent surrounding Louis from all sides.

“Mm,” Louis hums, squeezing his fingers tight, just to hear the sharp way Harry inhales. Then, when Harry is least expecting it, Louis returns the earlier sentiment—leaning up on his tiptoes and pressing his weight into Harry for balance, drawing his lips up close to Harry’s ear, and whispering, “Why don’t you go tell them goodnight.”

23) See You When I Get Home | Explicit | 10308 words

"What are you thinking about?" He repeats Louis' question from earlier.

"You." Louis' reply comes out in a moan. It shocks Harry, and his brain scrambles for the right thing to do, the right thing to say. He doesn't even know how to feel, or if he even heard Louis correctly.

"Me?"

24) Floating | Explicit | 10435 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

The one where Louis has control over water in every form but he doesn't know what to do with it. Harry is here to guide him.

25) I'm At Your Mercy Now (And I'm Ready To Begin) | Teen & Up | 10552 words

Where Louis' soulmark was leaked, Harry keeps his private. They're both famous popstars. Louis is waiting for his soulmate, Harry has a feeling it's him but Louis is completely oblivious.

26) You And I 'Till The Day We Die | Explicit | 10807 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 124: A fic inspired by Groupie Love by Lana Del Rey, where Harry is a Rockstar and Louis is his cute little boyfriend who tries to hide himself in the middle of the crowd. (Preferably set in the 80s)

27) Moonlit Sky Over Gentle Waters | Explicit | 11377 words

Harry left his hometown to sail the seven seas and returns seven years later, yearning for something — or rather, someone — that he isn't sure he can have.

28) Late Night Devil Put Your Hands On Me (And Never, Never, Ever Let Go) | Explicit | 11524 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Harry is a demon that feeds off of people’s nightmares. He finds his next meal in Louis’ dreams where he changes and molds them to become scary nightmares. Soon harry learns Louis is a lucid dreamer- he can act on his own in his dreams. They interact in the real world and have sex in the dream world. when the demon catches feelings for louis, he wants to live.

29) If You're Feeling Lonely | Explicit | 12807 words

The guest list is on the desk. Louis runs through it and stops a third of the way down, a familiar name catching his attention.

Harry Styles.

All he needs to do is confirm whether Harry Styles is the same Alpha whose scent left such a memorable impression on his body.

30) Want You To Play With Me | Explicit | 14335 words

"I'm quite not finished with you yet." Harry whispered right on the shell of his ears and squeezed the girth of his cock, making Louis shudder a sloppy puff of air as the tickling sensation ran through his spine, Harry was intoxicating. "Let me play with you a little more, Lou. I promise I'll give you what you want. Be my good boy, hm?" He slowly annunciated every word and licked a warm line on the nape of Louis' neck — Louis curled in his arms at that. Submitting himself a little bit more.

"Always wanna be your good boy." Louis whispered back and enveloped Harry's hand in his.

31) No Good Unless It's Real | Explicit | 17021 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Louis is a very busy farmer who’s just trying to make it to his next nap and Harry’s the new hot vet that’s determined to infiltrate every area of his life.

32) Tennis Court | Explicit | 18285 words

Louis and Harry are co-workers and Louis is sure Harry hates him because he always refuses to help him with his heats.

33) Joker Is Wild | Explicit | 18444 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 390: A reality show AU where Louis, Harry, Liam, Zayn and Niall are selected to stay at confined in a luxury mansion for 1 month, where they are required to have explicit, graphic sex at all times, like a porn Big Brother kind of show. Every week there are several different sexual tasks and trials that they must overcome together, which all ends in orgasms for all of them. When the boys all discover Louis is strictly a bottom, and a slutty one at that, they all can’t wait to get their hands on him. Bonus if other hot celebs are there too, like Shawn Mendes, for example. Includes lots of hard gay sex, rimming, blowjobs, gang bangs, ass worshipping (Louis ass, of course) and double penetration.

34) Baby, Let Me Love You Goodbye | Not Rated | 20249 words

Louis almost calls Harry daddy. Cue denial, feelings, and way too much dirty talk.

35) Give So Much (Not Enough) | Mature | 24610 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

“For my little lion,” Louis slid the smoothie bowl in front of Oscar, letting him dig in with his little hands. “And for daddy.”

He didn’t process the bowl in front of him, the push across the table causing a raspberry to roll off and fall on his lap, because Louis calling himself mummy may make him feel all sorts of mushy emotions, but Louis addressing Harry as daddy was suddenly having a very different effect on him. Since when did Louis saying daddy out loud render him speechless?

“Daddy’s still sleepy, but we’re up bright and early right Ossie?” Louis’ cooing shook him out of his daze. The man coughed, picking the raspberry off his lap and swallowing it with unintentional, and very unnecessary, eye contact with Louis. “Well, is it better than your protein smoothies and why?”

Harry chuckled, spooning another heap of the strawberry banana goodness into his mouth, “Way better sweetheart.”

A friends to lovers au with tons of mama Louis and domesticity.

36) Short And Sweet | Explicit | 29658 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Louis is a shy university student in a world scarce of male omegas. He's always dreamt of having an alpha despite his sheltered upbringing, fantasizing about being loved and cared for. He's immediately smitten by the mysterious alpha with curly hair, broad shoulders, and the addictive coffee scent.

37) Under Thorn And Bramble | Explicit | 31931 words

Note: The pairing of this fic is Louis/OMC. This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 445: A historical AU where Louis is working as a servant on a farm. The family that owns the farm is exceedingly cruel to him and he is often exhausted and in pain from his work. A mysterious stranger boards at the farm and is very intrigued by Louis, but Louis doubts his interest in genuine. Any pairing fine.

38) Pink In The Night | Explicit | 32324 words

His finger was tapping on Louis’ chat before Harry could even think about it, eyes reading over the last text he’d sent Louis. I miss you. Do you miss me?

Harry had felt so pathetic that December night, alone in the dark room of the Japanese apartment he’d been staying at, the strong smell of alcohol clinging to his clothes.

Louis hadn’t replied, but Harry wasn’t surprised; he had texted Louis a few times before while he’d been away, but there had never been a response.

It pained him to admit that this was their new normal.

39) Coeur De Pirate | Explicit | 34207 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

He tilts his chin up as the Captain strides across the deck, his footfalls falling loudly against the planks. The crew watches them from afar.

Stepping into his space, the Captain wraps an arm around Louis’ waist and pulls him in. He lowers his head to breathe his words against Louis’ cheeks. “I won,” he whispers, “I’ve come to claim my prize.”

40) If The Sun Don't Shine | Explicit | 36330 words

In a world where you meet your soulmates in dreams, Louis has spent the last three years going to bed hoping to finally meet his, only to end up disappointed time and time again. It all changes with a violin.

41) The Pirate And The Piper | Explicit | 38396 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

The one where Harry is Hook, Louis is Pan, and nothing is what it seems.

42) Begged And Borrowed Time | Mature | 40198 words

Prompt 60: Time travel AU where Louis somehow gets thrown back in time and ends up in the dark ages, during the reign of the Styles family.

43) I Ain’t Gonna Fence You In | Mature | 40645 words

Louis Tomlinson is a 18 year old city boy who is forced to spend his summer before his senior year at his aunts farm. There, he meets Harry, a 19 year old country boy his aunt hired to help around the farm.

Maybe the farm isn't the worst place to fall in love?

44) Don't Want No Other Shade Of Blue | Explicit | 43285 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 339: it was foretold that Alpha Prince Harry would be mated to a beautiful male omega with eyes that could rival the stone amethyst, but Omega Prince Louis refuses to believe it.

45) No Easy Choice, But You’re Mine | Explicit | 44963 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Louis is an omega hitman with one last job that goes a little sideways. Harry is the alpha bartender that looks a little too closely and cares a little too much.

46) Sedative Duty | Explicit | 46588 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Pop-star of the moment Louis Tomlinson is on his third-world tour. He decides to hire renowned professional dominant Harry Styles to unwind while on the road. In an effort not to raise suspicion by the crew, fans, and press, Harry pretends to be his bodyguard. He ends up being far more than that.

47) Just Always Be Waiting for Me | Explicit | 46837words

Note: Please be sure to check tags for any trigger warnings.

Harry Styles is a librarian at a private school who is not very devoted to his job but is very devoted to Louis Tomlinson, the resident English teacher, and has been ever since they met six years ago beneath a lonely streetlight.

Louis Tomlinson is a self confessed bookworm whose passion for Peter Pan, the literary classics and Harry Styles' happiness knows no bounds. He's self sacrificing, somewhat self loathing and haunted by a trauma he can't talk about.

Mutual pining abounds in this fic where a Peter Pan quote is never just a Peter Pan quote, caretaking is a love language and a platonic nude is never actually platonic. Louis has a kiss that belongs to Harry but he also has a painful past that might end up hurting them both.

48) Since The Future | Explicit | 48947 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

"It's done."

The words were barely above a whisper when they left Harry's mouth, but they hit Louis with the force of a freight train. It was done. Holy fuck. They had created a time machine. And tomorrow, they were travelling to the future.

49) Dirty Laundry Looks Good On You | Explicit | 50581 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

When Louis Tomlinson finds his clothes lying in a sad soapy mess on top of the washing machine in which they are supposed to be, he acts upon his anger and retaliates. What he doesn’t expect is having to deal with a six-feet tall, curly-haired and dimpled man in return, who seems to arouse confusing feelings within him and to make his life take an unexpected turn for the better (or worse?).

50) Hamartia | Explicit | 66970 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Six years is a long time for Louis to mend his heart back and erase every lingering, stubborn memory of his ex-lover, Harry Styles. But when news of the war being over spreads across the world like wildfire, and he stumbles upon the alpha he vowed himself to never see ever again, he realises that not even a lifetime will be enough for him to pick up the scattered, broken parts of his soul. He's far from expecting the alpha he loved to be struggling in the same way.

All the ointments in the world might never soothe the pain out, but it doesn't take long for them both to come to the conclusion that, maybe, the only medicine to their heartbreaks are what caused them in the first place.

51) Feeling Borrowed, Always Blue | Explicit | 68214 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Louis has been dreaming of his wedding since he was young - he just never expected it to happen like this. words

52) Mind Over Matter (You Under Me) | Explicit | 73825 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

It’s dark outside when Harry finishes practice for the day.

53) Rogue | Not Rated | 94992 words

Louis is a rogue Omega who's suffered through rejection and abuse for the biggest part of his life. He stumbles onto the Styles pack, quite possibly the kindness one he's ever met.

54) Chandeliers And Fake Smiles | Mature | 145010 words

On the brink of winning their first Grammy; up-and-coming rock band One Direction find themselves in the midst of the biggest scandal of their career - right before tickets for their world tour go on sale. in order to save their reputation, Louis Tomlinson must find it in his heart to forgive pop singer and heartthrob Harry Styles after his first impression rubbed him entirely the wrong way. after all, they cannot sell a relationship if it looks like they hate each other.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #blp fic recs #monthly fic recs #fic recs #larry

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write-ur-wrongs · 4 years ago

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Guarded and uncharted (1/2)

A/N: I was reading through prompt lists this weekend and this one about bodyguard aus inspired me to write! Here’s a little Bodyguard!Geralt, hired to protect you, but you defend him and he gets hurt (prompt by @promptingyou).

___________________________________________________________

This was the most ridiculous thing you’d ever heard. Your whole life was spent travelling from the castle to the surrounding villages and back. Hell, you don’t think even a week had ever passed without travel - you were always on the move, hearing the needs of mayors and villagers firsthand, and taking action yourself. Everyone knew you. They needed you.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying to me right now,” you said, rubbing your eyes with the balls of your hands in frustration.

“Y/N,” your mother sighed impatiently, “I will not have this argument again. You are no longer able to travel alone. Period.”

“- again?! When has this ever even been a discussion?” You whipped your head in her direction, wild eyes wide.

“Your father and I have been discussing this for weeks, Y/N, we’ve discussed it at the council at length and I am tired of talking about it. You are a princess. It’s high time you start acting like one.”

“What? For weeks,” you let out an incredulous laugh, “you discussed my life, my freedom without me?! Mother, I,” you stopped yourself when you saw the way she was looking at you. Like she was just waiting for you to fall in hysterics, to prove her right. Taking a moment, you took a deep breath and smoothed your hair down before continuing.

“Mother we’ve always been able to talk to one another. To work as a team. You know you can trust me to collect news and to convene with the townsfolk. They trust me! They listen to me! You know I am valuable – why are you keeping me in the dark?”

“You simply cannot understand what is really at play here. Everything you think you know is incomplete. I was wrong to allow you to go on like that, everybody agreed.”

“I disagree!!”

“Ha! Children do not have influence my dear,” she said coldly.

“Children?!” you repeated indignantly, “Fuck! What happened months ago that changed everything?”

Your mother stayed silent; her gaze set on the mountains beyond the open window.

“Oh, and ‘I cannot understand?!’”, you continued, “What, because it’s ‘beyond’ me, or because you fear what would happen if I kept went out asking questions myself? Need an armed guard to make Sure I’m not crossing paths with any dangerous -”

“Y/N this conversation is OVER!” she interrupted you with fury greater than you’d ever seen. “If you insist on continuing with your travels, you will do so with the Witcher or you will stay locked in your chambers. And my dear I strongly encourage you to think about this closely because honestly? Once those doors are locked, I can assure you I will not let you out again for many moons. There are issues at play here that are beyond you, Y/N. I trust I have made myself clear?”

She’s never yelled like this before, at least, never directed at you. Angry, embarrassed tears were pricking at your eyes but you refused to let her see you cry. Instead, you jutted out your chin and crossed your arms in defiance.

Without waiting for you to reply, she stormed out of the hall in a rage.

Seething where you stood, you felt your anger rise with every loud clack of your mothers retreating steps. You kept your eyes trained on the high, arched ceiling above and focused hard on counting the flowers carved in the molding, desperate to calm down. You and your mother never argued quietly, and you’d be damned to let any of the staff see you crying after the fact; never again, at least.

With a deep breath, you turned to leave the great hall, meaning to go cry in in the stables in peace. However, much to your shock and dismay, a large, tall, stranger was leaning against the doorway, watching you with a raised brow and a bemused look on his face.

Knowing your surprise and embarrassment was clearly painted across your face, you rolled your shoulders back, determined to at least act confident.

“I take it you’re the guardian my mother hired?”

The man smirked and tilted his head at you with only a grunt of acknowledgement.

“Great,” you muttered, running your hand through your hair in frustration. “You better not fucking slow me down.”

“Wouldn’t dare, your highness.” He said lowly, each word dripping in sarcasm.

“Fuck this.” You huffed and stormed past him, making sure your shoulder bumped him on your way out.

There’s no way this idiot sticks with you forever, right?

#geralt of rivia #the witcher series #the witcher x reader #the witcher fanfiction #witcher geralt #the witcher #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction requests #the witcher netflix #bodyguard!au #bodyguard!geralt

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skeezsbbygirl · 4 years ago

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peaches + bang chan (pt. 2)

Hello lovelies! (ಥ﹏ಥ)

in celebration of 500+ followers, here is a part two for ‘peaches’!!! thank you so much for the love uwuuu <3 hope you guys enjoy!

STREAM GOD’S MENU AND VOTE FOR OUR BOYS.

“Juno!” you called for your soon-to-be three year old daughter.

You were picking out clothes for her to wear on her special day, but she had other priorities, sneaking out of her room when she knew you were preoccupied with searching for a pair of shoes that would suit her dress.

“Juno, baby, come on,” you urged, a sigh escaping your lips as you searched her playroom and found nothing. A fit of giggles echoed through the halls, rooting from yours and Chris’ shared room, and upon hearing your daughter’s outburst of happiness, you ambled towards the room, her clothes still within your possession.

You smiled at the sight that welcomed you. Chris had Juno on his shoulders, bouncing her up and down, mimicking lines from an animated movie that they watched last night. Seeing them together reminds you of just how much Juno resembled her father, right from her brown curly locks down to the dimples that adorned her chubby flushed cheeks. You could faintly trace your features on her, but Chris begged to differ, insisting that Juno had your sweet smile and your doe eyes.

“Alright, fun’s over,” you announced, making them turn towards to where you were standing. “But mom,” Juno pouted, still settled within her dad’s arms. “You heard the queen,” Chris joked as he nuzzled his nose on Juno’s cheeks, peppering them with soft kisses while he was at it. “Dad, stop,” Juno giggled, pushing Chris’ face away with her small hands.

“Alright, princess. Go get dressed with mommy,” Chris said as he gently settled Juno down, giving you a quick kiss on his way to leave the room to check on the preparations for the party. Your daughter immediately sauntered towards you, clad in her white shirt and black leggings, giving you a kiss on the cheek as you squatted down to meet her eyes.

“Let’s wear the dress, yeah?” you beamed at Juno, who enthusiastically agreed. You helped her slip into the dress, fixing the white ribbon that decorated her torso and tugging at the hem of her dress to fix any folds and creases. You tucked some of her curls behind her ears in order to give light to her features.

“Mom,” Juno spoke. You hummed in response, prompting her to go on. “Is Jae-oppa coming?” she asked. You let out a soft chuckle, amused at how Juno has grown shy the moment she questioned you about Minho’s boy -- Jaehyun, who was two years older than your daughter.

“Yes, he is, baby,” you confirmed. “And all your uncles too,” you added, which earned you a cheer from Juno.

After an hour or so, you finally got yourself and Juno ready. You headed downstairs, with Juno holding your right hand. The both of you sauntered towards the backyard and as you opened the glass door that led you outside, Juno squealed in bliss, awestruck at the sight of her party.

Upon hearing your daughter’s shrieks of excitement, Chris ambled towards her and showed her around.

Pastel colored balloons and streamers were everywhere, white table cloths were draped over round tables accentuated by pink and white roses that were beautifully arranged in glass jars, and fairy lights decorated the main table which held Juno’s birthday cake alongside trays of various sweets. The long buffet tables were soon filled with food as the caterers started arranging the dishes.

There was no hiding the fact that Chris spoils you and Juno a lot. He makes it his top priority to provide for both of your needs and wants -- even the most outrageous requests of Juno wanting to have her own outdoor playhouse. When Chris was away for work, he always made sure to call his favorite girls, checking in on you and Juno throughout the day. He was always there for the both of you and he makes his efforts known by showering you with a ton of affection and gifts.

After a while, guests started coming in and both you and Chris busied yourselves with catching up and thanking them for coming.

“There’s the birthday girl!”

Juno ran towards the owner of the voice.

“Uncle Felix!” she greeted. Felix squatted down, holding his arms open for Juno as she embraced him. Felix held her in his arms as he got up, kissing her cheek in the process. “Happy birthday, princess,” he said and Juno thanked him, before politely asking to be put down, running off towards the bouncy castle at the far end of the yard with Chris’ younger brother.

“The beautiful creators,” Felix joked as gave you and Chris a hug. “How’s everything?” he asked. “So far, so good,” you answered and Chris nodded in agreement. “I’m glad to hear that. So, any plans for baby number two?” he teased, earning him a light slap on the arm from you. “Lix,” you playfully glared at the male, to which he responded with a laugh.

Chris gave him a high-five. “Trust me, bro. I’ve been hinting at it for months now,” he commented. You shook your head at their playful antics. “We’ll think about it,” you said.

Honestly, you’ve been thinking about wanting to have another baby, more so when Juno was asking you for a sibling and Chris was dropping hints all around, ever since Changbin’s wife gave birth to a beautiful baby boy seven months ago.

“Fine, but it would be cute to have another little boy, or girl, around,” he stated, lifting his shoulders in a shrug.

You fell into another line of conversation, but you guys were interrupted by a chorus of hollers that sounded all too familiar -- one that you have been hearing for years.

“Hyung!”

“(Y/n)!”

You and Chris took turns as the both of you welcomed them with hugs.

“Hi, Seojun,” you cooed at Changbin’s son, who was nestled within his mother’s arms. “He’s precious,” you said, caressing Seojun’s cheek with the back of your index finger, which earned you a gummy smile from him. “Can I hold him?” you asked Luna. “Of course,” she nodded and carefully handed Seojun over to your possession.

You called Chris over as you bounced Seojun on your hip. “Hey, bud,” Chris smiled, letting out baby noises to which Seojun responded with incoherent babbles. “Juno’s going to be all over him once she sees him,” Chris spoke as he took a glance at your face. Radiant and beautiful as ever, he thought.

“I know, she’s been asking for a sibling for months now,” you replied. “More reason to add another member to our family,” Chris stated as he leaned in to give your forehead a kiss, his silent way of asking you to think about it. You offered Chris a sweet smile, “We’ll see, babe.”

Seojun let out a soft whine, his arms extending towards where his mom stood. You quickly walked over to Luna and handed him over. “Go on and grab a seat, I’ll go and get Juno,” you said and Luna nodded with a smile.

Your eyes scanned through the crowd and soon after, you finally spotted Juno.

“Juno, honey!” you called out for her and she turned towards your direction. “Your uncles are here, come say hi, baby,” you beckoned her over. She obediently followed you, taking a hold of your pinky as you led her to the guys.

Upon her appearance, various greetings and compliments were thrown her way. She beamed in response, but as soon as she spotted Jaehyun, she shied away from them, opting to hide behind you.

Chris’ eyebrows furrowed in confusion, uncertain of what -- well more of who -- made his daughter flustered. He followed her gaze and it landed on Minho’s boy, who was holding a small bouquet of roses. “Oh gosh,” he breathed out, which earned him a chorus of laughter.

“Juno, Jae-oppa is here,” you looked over to where she was, gently grabbing her arm to prompt her to show herself. Juno shook her head instead, “Don’t wanna.”

You let out a chuckle and picked her up. Juno wrapped her arms around your neck, burying her face into your hair as she resisted on showing her face. “Look, sweetie. Jae got you flowers,” you coaxed but she only let out a soft whine in response. “It’s roses, Juno,” you added, knowing that they were her favorite.

“Happy birthday, Juno,” Jae said as he approached the both of you. You squatted down to meet Jae’s level. Juno wiggled in your arms, turning her head sideways as she took a peek at the boy. Jaehyun flashed her a smile as he offered her the bouquet. “Go on, sweetheart,” you whispered to Juno, encouraging her to reach out to Jaehyun.

All of you watched in amusement as Juno gently took the bouquet from the older male, muttering a small ‘thank you’ in the process.

“You’re welcome,” Jaehyun replied.

You let out a soft chuckle as you stood up with Juno in your arms. “Mommy, can I go play now?” Juno asked and you nodded, setting her down gently. “Go join her, Jae,” you gestured for Jaehyun to follow. You awed at the sight of Juno grabbing the boy’s hand and merrily running towards their friends.

“I mean, she got good taste,” Jisung joked and you all fell into a fit of laughter. “Ji, she’s three,” Chris defended, his protective side showing. “Exactly,” you noted, ambling towards Chris and wrapping your arms around his torso. “Which is why you shouldn’t take it too seriously, plus Jaehyun is a good kid,” you explained.

“Got it from me,” Minho chimed in. “Hyung, let’s not push it,” Changbin teased. Jeongin and Hyunjin immediately held Minho back from attacking the younger lad.

Soon, their playful antics came to an end and it was time for Juno to blow out her birthday candles.

“Happy birthday, Juno!” everybody greeted in unison, followed by applauds and cheers from the crowd.

[A few hours later...]

You let out a soft sigh as you tucked Juno in, moving some of the stray curls away from her face. “Sweet dreams, my love,” you whispered and kissed her forehead. You switched her night light on as you made your way out of her room.

You walked across the hall and entered your bedroom. Upon your arrival, Chris looked up from his phone, flashing you a sweet smile and beckoning you over to where he sat on the bed.

“Is Juno asleep?” Chris asked and you nodded in response as you eased yourself between his legs, snuggling further into his embrace. Chris held you close, planting a kiss on your cheek, then your nose, and finally your lips. “I figured, her eyes were getting sleepy when I was giving her a bath,” he chuckled. “I’m glad she had fun,” you claimed, “I can’t believe she’s already three,” you added.

“And crushing on Jaehyun,” Chris sighed, making you laugh in response. “Oh come on, babe. Let it go,” you playfully rolled your eyes at him.

“Thank you for everything, Chris,” you spoke after a moment of silence. “You do so much for us,” you continued. “No, baby. Thank you for everything,” he insisted, rubbing the small of your back.

“You make me want to be a better person, a better husband, and a better father. I can’t imagine my life without the two of you in it,” he paused to take a better look at you, his brown orbs staring deeply into yours. “I will always be here to love you, to protect you, to make you happy, and everything else within my ability,” he continued.

“I love you so much,” you beamed, leaning in to give him a kiss. As you were about to pull away, Chris caught your lips and deepened the kiss, molding his lips with yours with such passion and longing. You slowly moved to straddle him, your lips still connected with his, and Chris wrapped his arms around your waist.

The shared kiss was intense, yet it still held his affection for you. Chris pulled away from your lips, only to pepper kisses along your jawline, slowly moving down towards your neck. He sucked on the soft skin, stopping his actions once he left a deep red mark.

Chris flipped you on your back, his body now on top of yours, but careful not to crush you underneath him. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he rested his forehead against yours.

“I love you, (y/n).”

“I love you, too.”

The both of you stared lovingly into each other’s eyes, taking in each other’s presence.

“So about Juno’s wish for a sibling,” Chris hinted. You giggled as you lightly hit Chris’ arm.

“Well then, stop talking and get to work, babe.”

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tomthesoftie · 4 years ago

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the right decision pt. 2

❧ prompt: you and tom grew up together but always as enemies — nothing more, nothing less. as you grow older, you must realize it’s time to be mature. you either must throw tom out of your life or take him in as an ally. which will you choose?

❧ pairing: prince!tom holland x princess!reader x prince!park jimin

❧ genre: angst, barely any fluff, e2l

❧ warnings: light swearing, slight verbal abuse (nothing too heavy, only degradation), heartbreak ?

❧ a/n: lmao there are so many hidden symbols in this fic except some are revealed so i’ll explain the color symbols in this fic: orange is the change of attraction, pink is romance, and purple is the two characters coming to peace with each other. also this is a bit longer than what i usually write so ;P hopefully the second part makes up for the shitty first chapter lmao. shit, i was originally not going to write a third part but umm... shit. ok see you in the third chapter lmao smh

← chap. 1 chap. 3 →

masterlist prompt list

In your white organza, you let your fingertips graze over the delicate petals of the gorgeously growing gardenias. Your dress flows with your movement as you step forward, observing the chrysanthemums. Looking as perfect as usual, you moved ahead to observe your candytufts. All flowers were white, like your dress.

Truthfully, how you obtained these enchanting flowers still puzzles you. They just suddenly appeared one day when you were considering doing something with the empty space the flowers had suddenly occupied in the garden. However, you don’t care. The flowers are perfect.

Life has become quiescent ever since Tom has left you alone, almost to the point you regret pushing him away. Of course, there was a reason to why you acted the way you did. It was time for you to mature, and Tom wasn’t helping that growth whatsoever. Although the more you think about it, the more you realize that you could’ve taken him in as an ally. You couldn’t avoid him forever, and neither could he. Eventually the two of you would grow to rule your kingdoms as king and queen.

Shaking off the growing feelings of regret, you twirl back to the kingdom, hair whipping around with you. Taking one last breath of the fresh air surrounding you, you drag your heavy body back into the same, old, stodgy castle you’ve been living in for years.

To your surprise, a handmaiden is waiting for you, instructing you to follow her on behalf of the king, your father. Leading you to the doors of the dining hall, she adjusts and cleans off your dress, combing your hair until it neatly falls onto your shoulders.

“She’s ready,” you hear the handmaiden whisper to the tall standing butler before quickly rushing off.

“Madam,” he says sticking his arm out as the door opens, “Her royal highness, Princess Y/N L/N.”

Awkwardly curtsying in your dress, you look up to see unfamiliar faces sat across your parents’. The first face to draw in your attention is a man that looks young — a bit older than you but almost your age. Suddenly standing, the man bowed, no words spoken. You smile awkwardly before moving to take the seat beside your mother and across from the man.

“Ah,” the woman sitting across from your mother spoke, “how nice it is to finally meet you.”

You smiled warmly, though forcibly. Your hands rest in your lap, each finger toying with the other. You look down at your manicured hands, taking a moment to put together the pieces, but nothing came to mind. Looking up in frustration, your eyes meet the man across from you. He looks angelic.

His silver hair and pale skin made him look soft. Not only that but his eyes are enchanting. They are a beautiful crystal blue color, reeling you in like you are under a spell. He has plump, pink lips, glistening every time he licks them.

You hear someone clear their throat, “May I introduce King Park and Queen Park of South Korea and their son, Prince Park Jimin.”

Looking around expectedly, waiting for your father or mother to speak up, you are only met with eyes staring at you.

“O-Oh,” you cough gingerly, “It’s a honor to meet you, King Park and Queen Park.” Looking over at the silver-haired boy, you shyly smile, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Prince Park.”

He smiles, and you feel your heart clench at the sight, “And I, you, Princess L/N.”

He stands as you do, bowing to you before stretching a hand out for yours. Hesitantly, you place your hand gently in his and watch as he lightly kisses the back of your hand. Sitting back down, you feel heat rising to your cheeks as your thumb strokes the tingling sensation on the back of your hand.

“Great,” your father quips, “Now that we’ve familiarized ourselves, let’s talk about the marriage.”

At the word, your head snaps up to look at your father. Your gaze seems to be searching for something, a sign that tells you that your ears are deceiving you. Sadly, nothing suggests that your ears are wrong.

For the rest of the discussion, you’re not in your body, soul floating about and out of the kingdom. What pulls you back to reality is the sensation of the chair attempting to be pulled out from underneath you.

Abruptly, you stand up, curtseying the Park Royalty goodbye.

“See you soon, princess,” Jimin says, exchanging the title for a cheeky nickname, before kissing the back of your hand once more but letting his lips linger longer.

You blush away from his touch and give him a shy smile as you watch his slim figure slip out of the large doors.

Once the family is no longer in your sight, you burst at your parents, “Marriage? Seriously?”

You are infuriated. You never expected to be married off to some stranger, nonetheless at such a young age. You had just turned 21, for fucks sake. Moreover, they didn’t even consider discussing the situation beforehand.

“Look, darling,” your mother places a delicate hand on your cheek, “We’re growing old and soon we won’t be able to protect this kingdom. We need to pass it on to someone more reliable and trustworthy.”

“Yeah, then pass it on to me. Just me,” you clarify.

“As much as I’d love to do that, you know it’s not possible. You’re not possibly strong enough on your own,” she gives you sympathetic eyes.

“I’m- Excuse me? Not only are you stripping away my freedom of choosing my own significant other, but you’re now degrading me?” You snap, seeing red.

“You know that’s not what I mean-” your father cuts your mother off.

“Enough! We gave you a chance already,” he huffs, anger rising as well.

“What chance? Vincent? If I had known that-”

“Vincent? That silly boy? No, that was show enough that you can’t choose the right people to help rule this kingdom, but albeit that wasn’t your chance. There’s someone else that’s been beside you all your life. It’s been planned for ages, and you just had to go off and ruin it,” your father roars.

“Who else is there? My handmaidens?” You laugh sarcastically, tears filling your eyes.

“Think, you foolish child! If you can’t even figure out who it is, you definitely won’t be able to rule a kingdom alone,” you shake angrily at your father’s debasing words.

Thinking as hard as you can through your sorrowful rage, a face pops into your head.

Tom.

“Has it finally clicked yet?” Your father’s voice breaks your trance.

“Tom,” you whisper, weakly.

Without any other words, he nods, escorting your mother and himself out of the room, leaving you to think to yourself.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” a handmaiden spoke up, “would you like us to prepare anything? Like a bath or supper?”

Shaking your head, you dismissed her, thoughts racing in your head.

It suddenly got all too stuffy to be staying in the kingdom. You had to get out. You had to breathe in the fresh air of the wet grass, old, growing trees, and your precious flower garden.

Moving as fast as your heel-clad feet could take you, you rush out and towards your white flowers when you notice a silhouette standing above them, watering them.

His brunette locks shine in the golden light of the setting sun. As you move closer, you can see his well-constructed body through his garments. What he wore wasn’t anything special, just a white button down and grey trousers.

“Did you know?” You ask, voice wavering.

“Of course I knew,” he replies, quietly, voice soft to soothe you.

“Why didn’t you-” you felt yourself choke on your words, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to force you into falling for me,” he simply shrugs, hands playing with your flowers. “Although, seeing where we are now, I can’t say that what I did has encouraged us towards marriage.”

Standing in silence together, the pair of your stare at the flowers, the white of the petals turning orange, then pink, and then purple, following the shifting colors of the sky.

“I’ve missed you,” you suddenly blurt out.

Tom turns his head to face you, “I’ve missed you as well, darling.”

Tears erupt from your eyes, and you fall into Tom’s chest, arms wrapping around his torso.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, “I didn’t mean what I said at the ball. I don’t know what got into me.”

You felt him press a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“It’s alright, darling,” he sighs, hand rubbing the arch of your back.

“It’s not. What I said was wrong. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” you shake your head, hair sticking onto your wet skin.

“I forgive you, darling. Please stop crying,” he says sweetly before pulling back to wipe away your tears.

You look at him with glistening, doe eyes. Your hair is a wild mess, and the minimal makeup you wore had smudged off, revealing your natural beauty.

“Do you want to know something about your flowers?” Tom asks, trying to change the subject and cheer you up.

Nodding, you give him a silent answer.

“These,” he points at your chrysanthemums, “mean truth,” next, the candytufts, “indifference, and finally, my favorite,” the gardenias, “secret love.” He looks over to see your sparkling eyes of fascination, “Ever wonder how you got these?”

“Yes, I wonder every time I see them. Do you know who or how?” You ask, completely oblivious to the fact that he knows you didn’t personally request for the flowers to be planted.

He chuckles, “It was I, darling.”

You turn to face him in shock, “You?”

“Let me explain,” he smiles, “I first sent these to you when I realized my feelings for you. The gardenias represented my hidden love for you, the white chrysanthemums represented that I was going to tell you soon, and the candytufts represented you and your indifference for my feelings. You were perfect. You are perfect,” he corrects himself, “Then, when you started Vincent, I became jealous, and I was mad that you chose the man that you had barely known over me. I was beside you all of your life, yet you chose him,” Tom’s face contorts in jealousy. “I became bitter, and whenever I saw you, I saw him. He was always beside you. I treated you more harshly because of him, but when I heard news of your breakup, I immediately regretted the way I treated you. I should’ve protected you, rather than ignoring you.”

With eyes of awe, you whisper to yourself, “Tom likes me?”

“I’d say ‘love,’ but if you’re more comfortable with ‘like’ then I happy that you’re happy,” he chuckles.

You warm smile drops, “I’m sorry I treated you with such dislike. If I’d known, I would’ve respected you.”

The smug look on his face drops as well, “Does this mean you don’t feel the same way about me?”

“Well, to be honest, Tom, up until a couple weeks ago, I thought we had a mutual hate, but I do think that I have potential feelings for you that are slowly but surely arising. Although, even if we wanted to be together, it would be impossible,” you look down at your hands, tears developing in your quivering eyes at the mention of the arranged marriage.

He smiles lamentably, “I know.”

The two of you stand in silence, heads hanging in despair. None of you have anything else to say, only there to enjoy being in each others presence. You only move when you hear sniffles that don’t belong to you.

“Tom?” You say his name, hopelessly. Not receiving a response from him, you look up to see his shaking figure. “Oh, Tommy,” you coo, taking him into your arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you rub his back, face snuggled in the crook of his neck.

You let Tom sob in your arms until he ran out of tears to cry. When he finally collects himself and is in the right state of mind, again, he places a gentle kiss to your cheek before running off and leaving you to yourself in your dark garden.

You look up at the sky. The sun is already long gone, and the stars have come out to play with the moon. A tear falls down your cheek, left with confused feelings and a broken heart.

Jimin sits on the marble seat of his balcony, staring up at the dark sky, wondering what you were up to at the moment. He was infatuated with you at first glance; your beauty lures and traps him.

Jimin smiles at the twinkling stars, a sense of thrill flowing through him.

There were three stars that shone especially brightly that night. One of said stars twinkled its last day, falling unannounced, leaving the one star sad and confused and the other excited and ready.

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twiceinadream · 5 years ago

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Twice React: Fem! S/O Confesses They Love Them

Requested: Yup

Request: Twice reaction to fem/best friend confessing to them. (Written as a: High School AU)

a/u: It took 2 months but I finally finished a react and they ended up being pretty long. But, I hope you guys like them since this was one of the hardest prompts I’ve had to write, since some of them are based off real ways I’ve confessed to crushes. I want to thank you all again for 2k followers! I love you guys! Stay safe and wash your hands.

Category: Fluff and Angst (There’s only one)

Nayeon

“I love me too.”

The two of you had known each other longer than you could remember. And now you hoped that you could make her your forever. “Am I really that hard to love?” Nayeon sobbed as you held her close to your chest, your best friend’s tears soaking your shirt. You sighed, “Nayeonie, look at me,” Nayeon blinked back tears as she looked up to meet your eyes, “How could you ever think you’re hard to love? You’re smart, beautiful, kind, literally every amazing trait under the sun. But, you somehow always find a way to waste your time on people who don’t deserve you.” The older girl looked at you in confusion as she pulled away from you slightly, “What do you mean, ‘Wasting my time’, Y/N?” You let out a frustrated sigh as you pointed between the two of you, “Like what we’re doing right now. I sit on the sidelines watching your heart getting broken over and over by people who barely even give a damn, and when they’re done ripping your heart to shreds I’m here to pick up the pieces. But, no matter how much you think you can see love. You’re blind to when it’s staring you in the face, Im Nayeon.” The room went silent as you could see your words being processed by the girl across from you, “What are you getting at, Y/N?” You pinched the bridge of your nose before throwing your hands up, “How can you not see that, I’m in love with you!?” As the words left your mouth, you felt as if you couldn’t breathe. The room was silent aside from Nayeon’s sniffling, you ran a hand over your face as you looked at your best friend, “Look, Nayeon. I’m really sorry I…” Before you could finish your apology, Nayeon’s lips were on yours. She seemed to take all the air from your lungs as you melted into the kiss. When she pulled away, Nayeon couldn’t help but laugh at the dazed look in your eyes, “I guess we’re both blind to love when it’s staring us in the face.” You gave Nayeon a confused look that made her roll her eyes, “I’m in love with you too, Pabo.”

Jeongyeon

“No wonder you’ve been being weird!”

Yoo Jeongyeon wasn’t easy. But then again, when have you ever looked for easy. “Y/N. Y/N. Earth to Y/N!” You shook your head as you realized you had been staring at your best friend, Jeongyeon. She looked at you with concern as you sighed. “Sorry, Jeong. I’m just a little distracted.” Jeongyeon let out a laugh, “It seemed a little more than that, Y/N. You were staring at me for a good five minutes,” Your best friend smiled as she reached over to ruffle your hair, “From the way you were looking at me I could have sworn you must be in love with me.” Your eyes widened as you cleared your throat awkwardly, “What? No,” You pushed Jeongyeon’s shoulder playfully, “you’re crazy, Yoo.” However, Jeongyeon just rolled her eyes and turned away from you. You wanted to facepalm, ‘I’m such an idiot! There’s no way she doesn’t know I love her.’ Suddenly you felt Jeongyeon turn to face you again, her eyes wide as she looked at you, “What did you just say?” You blinked as you stared at her, “Please don’t tell me I said that out loud.” You suddenly felt the urge to cry as tears began to fill your eyes and you wanted to get as far away from Jeongyeon as fast as possible. “Y/N wait.” Jeong grabbed your wrist and pulled you back onto the bed making you lose your balance and fall on her, “Jeong…” But before you could stop her, Jeongyeon’s lips were on yours, your eyes widening before leaning into the kiss. Your guy’s breaths were labored as you pulled away, your foreheads resting against each other’s. “I love you too.” You wanted to say more but, Jeongyeon had pulled you into another kiss and you knew. She really did love you too.

Momo

“Doesn’t this mean we kiss now?”

Momo could be oblivious. And apparently so could you. You yawned as your eyes began to blur the text in front of you, “This was a stupid idea.” You groaned as you looked at the time on your phone, Momo would be here any minute now and the anticipation was starting to kill you. You had come early in the morning to put your concessfession of love for your best friend, at her locker: eight red carnations (one for each year the two of you had known each other). And the longer you sat in the library by yourself your nerves were starting to get the better of you, until a pair of hands came from behind and covered your eyes, “Guess who?” You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as you breathed in, “Let me guess…Momoring?” Your best friend laughed as she pulled her hands away from your eyes and took the seat next to you, your eyes still focused on the textbook, “You’ll never guess what I found at my locker this morning.” Momo gushed as she sat back in her chair, a giddy smile on her face, “Someone likes me, Y/N!” A soft smile grew on your face as you flipped the page, “That’s great, Momo! Red carnations always seemed to bring out your eyes. Do you have any idea who it is?” There was a long pause before you finally looked up from the textbook to face your best friend, a look of disbelief on her face, “How did you know they were red carnations?” You felt your breath hitch as you looked around Momo to see that there were no flowers in sight, you immediately felt like you wanted to slap yourself, “Momo, wait. Before you say anything, I understand if you don’t feel…” The shrill sound of the bell cut you off as a defeated sigh left your lips, you refused to look at the girl beside you as you closed your textbook and picked up your bag, when you were pulled back by your wrist and a quick peck was placed on your cheek. Your jaw dropped as your hand flew up to touch the spot Momo had just kissed, your eyes meeting Momo’s as a heavy blush set on both your cheeks. Momo let out a light laugh as she began heading towards her class, “I’ll see you after class, Y/N-chan. Don’t keep me waiting.”

Sana

*Internally gay panicking*

Sana was the sweet talker of the two of you. But today, it seemed like you had her tongue tied. You and Sana walked in silence as the April breeze carried the scent of the cherry blossoms blooming on the trees around the two of you. The sight could only be described as straight out of a fairytale, and Sana was the Princess to complete it. You didn’t know if it was the milk you had drank earlier or the courage that was bubbling in your stomach, but either way you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You were a few paces behind your best friend as you looked down and spoke, “Satang, I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a long time.” You let out a breath as you continued, “I like you. Like a lot, and way more than just a friend. Dare I say I’m in love with you.” You squeezed your eyes shut as you braved yourself to finally look back at Sana, a confused look on her face as she stared at you before taking an earbud out of her ear, “What did you say, Y/N?” You felt your mind go blank as your heart sank in your chest, “Um...I said I have to go, my mom called.” Sana gave you a smile as she pulled you into a hug, “Okay, call me when you get home. See you tomorrow!” You gave her a small wave as you began backtracking the way you had come, ‘I’m so stupid!’ You sighed in defeat when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket, it was from

Sana: I heard you, you Aho. And I like you too <3.

You felt a smile break out on your lips as your heart swelled in your chest, ‘Huh, I guess fairy tales really do have happy endings.’

Jihyo

“I can't believe you remembered.”

Jihyo was like the universe. And you were lost in space. You have been hopelessly in love with your best friend for years, since it seemed humanly impossible to not fall for, Park Jihyo. But, even through the years you had never plucked up the courage to ask her, until the two of you had stumbled upon a flash mob proposal in a mall, Jihyo saying how she always dreamed of a big show as a confession of love. So with that in mind, your plan was finally in motion. “Y/N. Y/N.” Jihyo waved a hand in front of your face as she brought you back to reality, “Are you doing okay? Your hand is shaking.” Your eyes widened as you pulled your hand away from hers, shaking off your nerves, “What? Must have been a breeze. Can we get going? There’s something I really want to show you.” You shot a smile at your best friend as she let you pull her through the aquarium, going past various exhibits until you stopped at a large tank filled with various fish and plants. You quickly looked at Jihyo as you spotted two fish chasing each other in the tank, before pointing them out to her, “Hyo, look at that!” You drew her attention away from the divers that you could see in your peripheral, ‘The moment of truth.’ You looked at the opposite end of the tank when you felt Jihyo poke your shoulder, “Y/N, look! They’re waving at us.” You looked to the divers who were now in front of the two of you, holding a rolled banner in their hands. As they started to open it up, a crowd began to gather to see what was going on; when you suddenly felt Jihyo drop your hand.

The banner read: Hey, Hyo. I didn’t know how else to tell you I loved you, but I have for a long time. Will you be my girlfriend? -Y/N.

While she was distracted a lady that worked there quickly ran over to give you a bouquet of flowers to give, when Jihyo finally looked at you; tears in her eyes. You took a breath to calm your racing heart, “Park Jihyo. You have been my best friend for years and frankly I’ve been crazy in love with you from almost the first day we met. And, until the day we saw that proposal in the mall I had no idea how to tell you until now.” You gave Jihyo a small smile, “So. Will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?” The tension in the air was almost suffocating until Jihyo finally answered, “Of course I’ll be your girlfriend, Y/N, took you long enough.” You let out a laugh, which was silenced when Jihyo suddenly pulled you into a kiss. Rounds of applause sounded as the onlookers cheered for the two of you, your foreheads resting against each other as you pulled away, “Well lucky for you, Hyo. I’m done waiting.

Mina

“Wanna stay the night?”

Midnight confessions were always the best kind of confessions. You couldn’t put your finger on what exactly felt off, but even with how familiar the situation was, something just felt wrong. Your head rested on your best friend’s stomach as she ran her fingers through your hair, something she had always done when you couldn’t sleep as she hummed an old Japanese lullaby. “Want to talk about it?” Mina asked softly as she continued running her fingers through your hair. “I don’t know if I can, Minari,” you closed your eyes as you let out a sigh, “I know I can trust you with my life, but I can’t seem to tell you how much I love you. What is wrong with me!?” You ran a hand over your face as you sighed again, not noticing how Mina’s hand had stopped midway through your hair. Your words ringing in her ears as it seemed as though you hadn’t noticed you said it. It wasn’t until her silence became more quiet than usual did you sit up to face her, noticing how her eyes were wide as she looked at you. “Are you okay?” Concern clear in your voice as Mina swallowed. “You love me, Y/N?” You felt your heart drop as Mina’s soft words seemed to slap you in the face, “W...what?” Mina pursed her lips, “You said it earlier. You really love me.” You squeezed your eyes shut hoping you were just in a bad dream, but Mina was still there when you opened them, “I’m not going to deny what I said,” you pinched the bridge of your nose, “because, yes. I...I do love you, Mina. I have for a long time.” You gave her a small smile as you waited for her response, but instead of words, you felt Mina’s arms around you as she pulled you to lay down. Your head on her chest, as her heartbeat thumped in your ears. Before you could ask what she was doing, you felt her place a kiss on your head as she whispered, “Get some sleep, Y/N. I don’t need my girlfriend getting bags under her eyes because I kept her up all night.” You felt as if your jaw dropped at her words before responding, “Trust me, Mitang. Having bags under your eyes would be the least of your worries if I kept you up all night.” Mina blushed as she slapped you playfully, “Don’t push your luck tonight, L/N.” You chuckled as your eyes began to close, “I don’t need to push my luck, Myoui. I’m already the luckiest girl in the world.”

Dahyun

“Finally!”

You had loved Dahyun for a long time. And it seemed she had loved you too. The two of you were sitting on opposite sides of your bed as Dahyun continued to pout, “Come on, Y/N-ah. Why can’t you just tell me?” You crossed your arms, “‘Cause. It’s a secret.” Your best friend copied your pose and crossed her arms as well, “But, we’re best friends, we have no secrets! And I let you keep it a secret for four years. Please just tell me.” You huffed, “Fine. I’ll let you guess.” Dahyun smiled as she pursed her lips in thought, “Is it...Nayeon Unnie,” You shook your head, “Jeongyeon Unnie, Momo Unnie, Sana Unnie? Oh, Jihyo Unnie?” You let out a laugh as you shook your head, “No, no, no, and very funny, but no.” Dahyun raised an eyebrow, “Mina Unnie? Chaeyoung? Tzuyu?” You once again shook your head ‘no’ making Dahyun lay back on your bed in thought, “But, if it’s not any of them. That only leaves…” Realization seemed to hit Dahyun as you rubbed the back of your neck, “Yeah. Are you mad?” Dahyun blinked as she looked back at you, a smile forming on her lips, “Y/N-ah, how could I be mad? I’ve listened to you be smitten over this ‘girl’ for four years and I find out that my crush likes me back, of course I’m not mad.” As you listened to Dahyun’s words your eyes widened, “Are you saying?” Dahyun nodded as she smiled, “Yes, Y/N. I like you too.”

Chaeyoung

“The little things, huh?”

The pun was coincidental. But falling for Chaeyoung was not part of the plan. Your thoughts seemed to race faster than you could process them as you looked around the school in search of your best friend. Unsurprisingly finding Chaeyoung in the art room, her back facing the door as she doodles in the sketchbook in front of her. “Son Chaeyoung.” You deepen your voice to imitate the school’s principal, making her jump. “Y/N!” You laughed as you pulled out the chair beside her as she slapped your arm, “You made me mess up my drawing.” Chae pouted as you poked her cheek, “Pouting doesn’t work anymore, Chaengie. I’m immune.” A proud smile on your face as Chaeyoung continued to pout, your facade fading, making her smile, “Ha! I win! No one can refuse my pout.” You rolled your eyes as a nervous look began to creep out into your face, Chaeyoung noticing it in an instant, “Y/N? Are you okay?” You sighed as you decided to just bite the bullet, “I don’t know why, but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately and I realized. I really need to appreciate the small things in life and take chances while I have them. So,” you purse your lips as you look into your best friend’s eyes, “that’s why I’m gonna finally just spit it out. I like you a lot, Chae. And it’s way more than just a friend.” You let out a breath as Chaeyoung looked you in the eyes, a smile on her lips, “Really? You just had to start off with ‘the little things’.” You laughed as Chaeyoung pulled you by the collar of your shirt and into a kiss, silencing you. “Pabo.” You chuckled as Chae pulled you in again. “But, you’re my, Pabo.”

Tzuyu

“Promise me.” (Whoops, my finger slipped)

Tzuyu has been your best friend since you had met that day in the classroom. And now you hoped this wouldn’t be where it ended. It was a week before graduation and the butterflies of finally being free weren’t the only thing filling your stomach. You had been planning the way you would finally confess to your best friend, Tzuyu, for months and you wanted to take your chance before she left for Korea, to chase her dreams. So now you were left with your own thoughts as you waited in the now empty Chemistry class where the two of you had met on the first day of school, four years ago. Your heart seemed to beat out of your chest as the door to the room began to open, revealing the gorgeous face of your best friend. Tzuyu looked around the room to see that all the tables were pushed to the side as you stood in the center of the room, a bouquet of purple hibiscuses in your hand, “Hey, Tzu.” You set down the flowers before reaching down to your phone on a chair as you started playing a slow song, extending your hand to her, “Care to dance?” Tzuyu looked at you in surprise before tentatively taking your hand as you pulled her into a slow rhythm, you took a deep breath before looking her in the eyes, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” The girl in your arms raised an eyebrow at you but nodded, “Four years ago we met in this classroom and have been best friends ever since. But, four years ago I also fell in love with the shy girl in this classroom and kept my feelings to myself till life finally kicked me in the ass to confess. And I’m here to say that, I’m head over heels for you, Tzumong.” At your confession, Tzuyu suddenly stopped. Hurt evident on her face, “Y/N. I’m so sorry,” the hope in your eyes began to fade as you felt your heart sink, “but I can’t accept your confession. When I leave for Korea I can’t ask you to uproot everything you’ve worked so hard for here, just to watch me chase a dream. I couldn’t live with myself if I did that to you.” You and Tzuyu both had tears brimming in your eyes as she placed a kiss on your forehead, “But, I need you to promise me something, Y/N.” You nodded, “Anything.” Tzuyu let out a breath, “Promise me, you won’t wait.” You bit your lip to distract yourself from the pain of your heart breaking, “I can’t make promises I know I won’t keep. But don’t worry about me and go chase your dream.” Tzuyu’s lip wobbled as she wrapped you into a tight hug, tears soaking your shirt. Her voice shook as she pulled away and headed for the door. A longing look in her eyes as she looked back at you, “In another life, Y/N, I promise: I’ll love you too.”

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coffeecomicsgalore · 5 years ago

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25 Days of Adrien (+ 6 of Marinette)

Part 2 of Chloe’s party.

Ao3

Chapter 31 – New Beginnings

Marinette stared at the love of her life. Her hand remained at her mouth while the tears continued to fall. Adrien was down on one knee with the open ring box held carefully in both hands. Sitting in the box was a very simple, but gorgeous, pink round cut diamond engagement ring. It sat perfectly centered on a rose gold band that was twisted to look like a stem of a flower. It was even the perfect ring to keep on her finger as she worked with fabric. It was quaint and ornate and exactly her style. It was absolutely perfect for her.

“I never want to spend a minute of my life without you. Marinette, princess, will you make me the happiest man alive and spend the rest of your days with me? Will you marry me?”

The sound of cheers rang throughout Paris as the countdown reached zero. There were fireworks blazing in the sky in front of them, but Adrien and Marinette were enthralled in their own little world, completely oblivious to the actions around them.

Marinette shut her eyes tightly, warding off the remaining tears that threatened to fall. She shook her head “yes” so enthusiastically she was nearly dizzy. She leaped into his arms and wrapped he arms around his neck and yelled “yes!” before crashing her lips to his. A handful of passionate kisses and happy tears later, Adrien was finally able to pull away to place the ring on her finger. More tears fell between the two as Adrien helped her up, held her in his arms, and kissed under the firework display. Slowly, they both pulled away, placing their cheeks together to watch the display as they embraced.

Chloe and Sabrina watched from the side, smirking as the entire proposal was caught on film. “Adrien and Marinette are going to love that I did this.” She said as she pressed a button on her phone.

The two intruders of the private affair left the couple to their own accord as they walked back down towards the party.

Adrien grabbed his fiancé's hand and guided her over to the piano where the bottle of champagne and two flutes waited to celebrate with them. Popping the cork with a loud “pop!” Marinette giggled sweetly as she held out the glasses. Adrien clinked his glass against hers, toasting to the future.

“To our future. To many, many years of happiness, love, children, kwami antics, and lots of lots of laughter.”

Marinette smiled widely at his toast and added, “To new beginnings. Many years of love, forever more.”

Another kiss, another clink of their champagne glasses, another sip. Adrien moved to the end of the piano and brushed his fingers against the keys. Finding his position, Adrien’s fingers danced along the keys playing the most harmonic song coming straight from his heart. Marinette could feel the music as he closed his eyes. Listening carefully, Marinette clutched her hand against her chest, moving and sitting silently beside him as he played.

Marinette blushed. She recognized the song. What feels like forever ago, but also felt like yesterday, she remembered that moment. It was the moment. Marinette stood outside, hand out in the rain as she pondered running the short distance to her home or to stay until the rain subsided. She rushed out of the house late that morning, forgetting about the upcoming storm that would drench the day.

Hearing the shuffle coming from behind her, she moved over allowing the student to pass. When she noticed the boy with the blond hair trying to say hello, trying to make small talk even though he played that prank on her that day, she looked away.

When he told her those personal things, apologizing for the misunderstanding, and showing the sweet side of this sheltered boy who wanted to give so much, she fell in love with him. The umbrella was a simple gesture of selflessness and innocent friendship. The beautiful giggle that had bubbled from his chest. Her heart sang the song. She stared at him and her heart melted and the song played.

Adrien was playing her song. The love of her life was playing the song that brought him to her.

Tears pricked her eyes. She knew he loved her, but this – this made her realize how much he loved her. Her soulmate. Her chaton.

Adrien finished as he turned to her and noticed the tears falling so slowly. His smile turned upside down, worried that he did something wrong. He pulled her hands into his, his eyes not leaving her gaze. “My lady, why are you crying? Did I do something wrong?”

She softly shook her head no. “Mon chaton, you played my song.”

“Your- your song?”

“The day I fell in love with you. When you handed me the umbrella, my heart sang this beautiful song. The time around me stopped. I don’t remember breathing. But my heart continued beating and almost soared from my body. But there was this beautiful song that played; I heard it. And you, mon minou, you played the song that has been in my head all this time.”

Adrien’s heart swelled with so much love. He played her song. He had been hearing this song forever, but never understood it. He wanted to play a song for her and allowed his heart to pour through his fingers and choose the keys. The song he played came from his heart and he didn’t know why it was so important to play it right then and there. He just knew it felt... right.

Grasping her and holding her tightly, tears flowed from his own eyes as he placed his head in the crook of her neck. “I love you, Marinette. I can’t wait to spend the rest of forever with you.”

Marinette held him tightly and followed in his gesture. “I love you, Adrien. Forever and always.”

-----xoxox-----

The moment that Marinette noticed Chloe, she walked up to her in thanks. Chloe, not one to reciprocate affection, held out her hands to hug her in congratulations. Sabrina waited sweetly beside her to give her congratulations to the happy couple.

After cooing over the ring, Adrien interrupted for a quick dance with Chloe, offering his thanks for her help in the whole plan.

“Chloe, thank you for everything you did tonight.” Adrien kissed her cheek.

A smile pressed her glossed lips. “I’ve already sent you and Marinette the video of the whole thing and Sabrina forwarded the photos. We thought you wanted to remember this moment.”

Adrien stopped and hugged her tight. “You seriously are one of my best friends. I’m so glad you’re in my life.”

“And I’m happy you’re in mine”

Once the song finished, Marinette sauntered up to her fiancé to request a final dance before he whisked her home.

Swaying to the music, a few photos being taken as she nonchalantly flashed her left hand over Adrien’s shoulder, prompting a quick glisten from the diamond stud. She whispered into Adrien’s ear of wanting to bet on how long it would take for the media to freak over the newest addition.

“Hmm..” Adrien teased his chin, “I bet in about five minutes we’ll see the photos on social media, and in six minutes Alya will text you or call you to scream in your ear.”

“I’m going to bet in three minutes for social media and four minutes for Alya.”

As if she didn’t know her best friend, Adrien’s phone buzzed at the four-minute mark. A quick teasing glare from Marinette and Adrien bowed praises to his princess.

“I think they can wait a little longer for confirmation. I need to tell my parents anyways.”

Adrien spun Marinette around and tugged her closely to him. “They already know.” Marinette shot a quick glance in confusion. “The grandchildren comment from your papa.”

“Figures.” Marinette shook her head.

A quick dip, a chaste kiss, and Marinette and Adrien left the floor to head home.

“Today was amazing.” Marinette said as she placed her tired head on his shoulders. “Thank you for making this night absolutely memorable.”

“Always for you, my love.”

#mlholidays2k19 #christmas fluff #ml proposal #ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfiction

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hcneymilkks · 5 years ago

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CIX Hyunsuk 'Mission Mistletoe'

Request from WATTPAD!

Request a oneshot here!

Prompt number:

15. Avoiding the Mistletoe at all costs, however, everyone is trying their best to get their otp there.

Pairing - Hyunsuk x Reader

Genre: Fluff

CEO AU!

Word count: 2.6k

MASTERLIST

You’ve got mail

Grumbling, you paused your Netflix movie and propped your laptop onto your lap, wanting to be free from work for a least a few hours.

READ: IT IS OF UTMOST IMPORTANCE

You clicked on the email, from none other than the person you really wanted to punch right now.

Good evening Miss Y/N,

I miss you, come back to the office and stop leaving me with these idiots.

Your boss.

IMPORTANT!

Miss Y/N,

I know you got my email. JUST COME MY GOD IM BORED AND IM IN NEED OF SOME COMPANY.

Your boss.

FOR FRICK’S SAKE THIS IS IMPORTANT

Y/N,

I sent Jinyoung to come and grab you, don’t you dare say no.

See you soooonnnnnnn!

the love of your lifeeeeeeee

“YOON HYUNSUK!!!!”

Your doorbell rang and deciding not to answer it, you snuggled deeper into the blankets. Not wanting to leave your comfy bed.

Knocking.

Doorbell ringing.

A ding from your phone.

CEO Hyunsuk 🤡

Open the door for Jinyoung or else im telling him to break it down

You

Hyunsuk wtf do you want Im tryna rest before i ACTUALLY HAVE TO GO BACK TO WORK TOMORROW!

CEO Hyunsuk 🤡

Just come here now!!! It’s chaotic here i wanna cry

You

For fucks sake…..

You owe me!

_____________________

Hyunsuk was ecstatic when you popped your head inside his office, standing up as fast as he can and dragged you inside. His hands were on your shoulders, shaking you.

“THANK GOD YOU’RE HERE. Wait, why are you wearing PJ’s? WAIT THAT’S NOT THE POINT!”

You crossed your arms and glared at him. “Mr. Yoon, I want to know why you called me here at-” you looked at the clock and you closed your eyes, feeling the anger build up. “2 am in the morning. Why am in my PJ’s? IT’S BECAUSE SOMEONE CALLED ME AT THE WORST TIME!!!! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU!”

“Stop calling me Mr. Yoon we have literally known each other since we were kids.”

It was true. You and Hyunsuk were part of the Elite, a group filled with only the richest families of the world. People outside of the Elite view them as modern-day Kings and Queens, with some of the families in governments. While others view them as stuck up bitches who got lucky in the past. Even in the Elite, there are ranks. Your family was one of the lowest, barely surviving in the cutthroat economy. While Hyunsuk’s was one of the highest, and it didn’t help that his whole family was blessed with looks.

The company, Complete In X was where your parents had met Hyunsuk’s parents, and history was made. It was considered mind-blowing, the products created. It not only allowed for recreation, but for changing parts to create a new overall story. Hyunsuk had become the CEO, and along with his other friends, created a new target, video games.

You had dabbled in computer science and data collection, finding an interest in video games. It wasn’t until you needed an internship did Hyunsuk reach out to you. After chatting over coffee, the internship turned into something more. To be a personal assistant to Hyunsuk as well as the design planner for corporate parties.

You didn’t think that it would have a small downside.

“Y/N as I was saying, thanks for coming. First, how do you control those children? Because I know for sure I can’t at all.” You rolled your eyes. This, this was the downside.

“Hyunsuk, those children you are talking about are your friends. Also just get them some food and they should be fine. They are human and need a break as well.” He nodded and looked out his window through the blinds. His friends, his teammates, were bouncing around the office. He smiled and you felt your heart race.

Somewhere along the months of working with him, you scummed to not only his looks but his kindness, the soft side of Hyunsuk. And man did you fall harder than what you were supposed to.

No other words were spoken to each other after Hyunsuk introduced the planning of a corporate Christmas dinner, you immediately get to work.

Hyunsuk looked up every few moments to admire you sitting on the sofa, typing furiously. Even when you were in PJ’s he found you cute. You looked up for a moment and he quickly retracted his eyes to his computer screen. You giggled quietly and went back to work.

A moment between you two that lasted forever.

But behind the blinds, a group of boys were planning a mission that should have been done six months ago.

“Mission Mistletoe is in effect!”

____________________

Christmas music played from the speakers, the air smelling like peppermint. As you were spreading the chocolate onto a baking sheet, the doorbell rang.

“Y/N! Open up!”

You rushed to the door, being engulfed in a comforting but cold hug. “Hyunsuk! What are you doing here? Don’t you have a business to run?”

“The next conference meeting isn’t until the day of the corporate dinner.” He shut the door behind him and took his gloves off. You had retreated back to the kitchen, where the music had started yet again. He followed, practically drooling as he saw freshly baked cookies on the island.

“So, how’s the planning coming along?” He bit into the cookie and groaned. Your baking was to die for.

You faced him. “It’s going well, I just need an updated guest list of who is coming. Also, does gold and red work well for corporate colours?”

He nodded. “I’ll ask BX to get you that list. Run the colours through with Seunghun, I heard he wanted your opinion to add navy blue. The boys also wanted to add mistletoes as well for some reason. Saying that they wanted to get a specific one true pairing to come true.” He shrugged and ate another cookie.

Your face became heated and you turned back to put the chocolate in the fridge, trying to cool your face at the same time. “Mistletoes huh? Well, I say no. I mean although mistletoes are part of Christmas, this dinner is also for organization and agreements. What I’m saying is that we need to look professional. And on the navy blue, I’ll make the curtains it.”

Once Hyunsuk had left, you plopped down on your bed, taking a deep breath.

Just what did the boys want to do?

_____________________

“Seunghun that goes there. Jinyoung stop putting mistletoes everywhere I said no! BX where’s that list? Yonghee my goodness stop throwing glitter everywhere!”

Five days nearing the corporate party and everything was under control.

Well almost.

You had ordered poinsettias to put on the small pillars, but you didn’t realize that BX was allergic to flowers. So you had to return all of the flowers and to your dismay, not all of the money was returned. After apologizing profusely to Hyunsuk, he smiled and decided to keep some of the flowers, regardless if anyone was allergic or not.

“Suck it up and chug some allergy medicine!” was what he said.

BX ran into the room at the exact same time Yonghee threw glitter into the air, sprinkling it directly onto him.

“Yonghee!”

The tears were becoming too much, as you doubled over in laughter. The rest had stopped what they were doing and started to join in.

Laughs echoed around the room, the sun starting to set creating a hue of colours on the glittered floor and BX’s hair.

“Okay okay, Yonghee clean up the mess. I have an idea for the glitter. BX hun I’m so sorry but I need that list, glammed up or not.”

Grumbles came from Yonghee, but he quietly obliged, signalling to Jinyoung to hide at least three mistletoes somewhere your eagle eyes would not see.

But someone did notice, and with a smirk on their lips, they knew what the boys were planning.

“Mistletoes huh? Someone wants drama.”

_______________________

The dinner was in full swing. Yonghee fixing his collar while BX was fixing any mistakes on the powerpoint, quickly rehearsing the game once more. Seunghun was covering Jinyoung who ran around the ballroom to stuff extra mistletoes, making sure to avoid any contact with you as you were doing final preparations and trying to calm Hyunsuk down.

“Mr. Yoon-” “Hyunsuk….just call me Hyunsuk woman.”

You rolled your eyes but obliged. “Okay, Hyunsuk. You will be fine, the presentation will go smoothly. I double-checked and printed out extra copies if needed. Just breathe in and out.” You demonstrated how to breathe and Hyunsuk couldn’t help but laugh. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer to him, his lips ghosting over your ear and his breaths making you shiver.

“Thank you Y/N, for everything.”

He let go and you bowed, shakily moving towards the clatter of people surrounding the middle of the ballroom. Jinyoung snickered as he popped out beside you, making you yell in surprise and smack him.

“Ow ow ow! STOP IT Y/N YOU’RE FINE!”

“Don’t ever scare me! You know how easy I get scared!”

He smirked and moved away from Y/N, bowing dramatically and tipping an invisible hat. “Oh you haven’t seen the grand finale.” and Jinyoung walks towards Hyunsuk, whispering in his ear.

You tilt your head in confusion. “This is not a circus!”

A clink of a glass and the whole crowd goes silent.

“Good evening. My name is Yoon Hyunsuk, CEO of Complete In X. I would like to express my gratitude for your attendance tonight. As you may have known, it is a corporate Christmas dinner, but also a way to introduce a project my colleagues and I are in the process of making.”

Hyunsuk beckons his friends to take their place near the projector, with BX starting up the powerpoint and the game.

“if you look at the screen that is descending, we have immersed ourselves into the video game realm. A game that is popular such as League of Legends or A Chinese Ghost story has given us the idea to create our own version. We introduce Spirit Kingdom, an adventure filled with magic, kidnapping, seduction, and romance.”

BX opens up the game and the screen goes dark.

[START]

“WELCOME TO SPIRIT KINGDOM. UPON ENTERING,

DO NOT WAKE THE KING.

DO NOT STEAL THE PRINCESS.

DO NOT SEDUCE THE QUEEN.

MOST OF ALL,

CATCH THE KILLER.”

“As you can see, a character is already put on the castle grounds, and the narrator will explain the backstory as the person may change their character or move them around.”

BX moved the character around while Hyunsuk talked, all eyes on the boys. You looked in fascination, the graphics were clear, no glitches in sight. Detailed and engaging. You smiled and started to clap while others followed. It looked like everyone was enjoying the preview as you were looking around. You gasped as you saw the CEO-in-training for Treasure Alchemy, Choi Hyunsuk, walking towards you.

“Good evening Miss L/N.” A chaste kiss to your right hand and a smile to die for.

“Good evening sir.”

“Nonsense. Call me Choi Hyunsuk. We are the same age are we not?” you nod and glance your eyes at Hyunsuk, his eyes already on yours. He smirks and you panic, diverting your eyes to the man in front of you. Hyunsuk follows your eyes and scowls when he sees him. Out of all days, why today?

Nonetheless, Hyunsuk takes a deep breath and regains his stance, glancing at BX who has customized the character to his liking and is entering the Elves of Forest.

“So Miss Y/N, let’s take this conversation somewhere quieter hm?” You looked at Choi Hyunsuk, who held out his hand. Hesitant, you glance at Yoon Hyunsuk, but he is occupied with finishing the presentation. Clasping your hand’s around Choi Hyunsuk’s, he leads you to the balcony. The cold air nipping at your arms.

“As I was saying, Miss Y/N, why are you still working for that kid?”

You snapped your head at Choi Hyunsuk. “I beg your pardon?”

“That kid has barely started University, and yet he’s already managing a company. Watch, all his hard work will go down the drain.” Choi Hyunsuk stretches his arms, leaning on the balcony. “Let’s talk about this game he created. Or should I say copied? The ideas? Unoriginal. the graphics? Hurts my eyes. Overall, I would never purchase the game, nonetheless play it even if it was free.”

You clenched and unclenched your hands. Just how dare he. “And I suppose Choi you can do better?”

“Hm?”

“I know you heard me? Or is it because you’re scared of losing to a guy three years younger than you?”

He looked in your direction and grabbed your wrist. His lips nearing yours “Why would I be afraid, I would have the mastermind behind the company.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

Choi Hyunsuk smirked. “I know little Hyunsuk doesn’t make these ideas, how else was the company in top shape? It’s you Y/N, and I want you.”

You placed your other arm as a shield to protect you. “Never will I work for you Choi Hyunsuk.”

He smirked. “I’ll get you. One way or another.” He presses a kiss to your cheek and walks to the door, facing you once more.

“Be ready love, you won’t know what’s coming.”

Shaking your head, you ran back to the ballroom in time for the closing announcements. Drowning a glass of water taken from a worker, Hyunsuk looked in your direction. It seemed as though time had slowed down, both of you in a trance as if the glitter Yonghee sprinkled a few days prior that still lingered was like magic. Clapping interrupted your daydreaming, someone tapping your shoulder as Hyunsuk held out his hand for you to take.

You smiled and placed your hand in his.

“I would like to say a special thank you to Miss Y/N. We met when we were kids, and have become great business partners. Without her, I would be a mess right now.” He laughs and everyone else does too.

You smile at Hyunsuk and was about to take your seat until Jinyoung quickly grabbed the mic. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WE ARE NOT DONE YET. What you saw, of course, was the main point of this dinner but we couldn’t say this is a Christmas dinner without a little magic and holiday cheer.”

“Jinyoung what the hell are you doing? This isn’t part of the program.” you hissed at Jinyoung, ready to smack him. But Hyunsuk stopped you, rubbing soothing circles onto your back.

Jinyoung winked. “Live a little Y/N.”

The audience was confused, what does he mean by Christmas cheer?

“I have a little magic trick for you all. I just need you all to count down from three okay?”

“THREE.” You braced yourself for the worst, gripping onto Hyunsuk’s hand.

“TWO.” Hyunsuk smirked at Jinyoung, shaking his head slightly.

“ONE.” Yonghee cheered and pressed a button

The screen ascended and mistletoe hung from the ceiling, found in people’s pockets. Glitter was thrown everywhere. Mistletoes everywhere.

“MISSION MISLETOE IN EFFECT! L/N Y/N AND YOON HYUNSUK JUST KISS ALREADY!”

Your eyes widened in horror.

“BAE JINYOUNG!”

Hyunsuk laughed, a mistletoe descending above you both. The audience notices and starts to chant. You blush and try to hide your face while he brings you closer to him.

“Y/N, you probably won’t believe this but, I’ve been in love with you since we met.” and he takes your lips in a breathtaking kiss.

You wrap your arms around his neck and push your body flush to his, foreheads touching and smiles all around.

You had to thank Jinyoung, in that if he didn’t secretly place mistletoes almost everywhere, the stars wouldn’t have aligned that night.

#woop woop woop woop another prompt done #requests are still open until december 6th!#CIX #Hyunsuk #Seunghun #BX #Jinyoung #Yonghee #CEO au #christmas prompts request

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iambuckyrogers · 6 years ago

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Truly Madly Deeply

Summary: It’s your wedding day and everything seems to be going wrong. Can Tony step in and save the day?

Word Count: 1,967

Warnings: pure fluff

Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger!Reader

Authors note: Written for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan playlist challenge. My prompt was Truly Madly Deeply by Savage Garden who is one of my FAVOURITE Aussie bands and this song is so beautiful it took me a while to write something which I felt did the song justice. I hope you enjoy it, likes and reblogs are always appreciated!! xx

Prompt: Truly Madly Deeply // I’ll be your hope, I'll be your love, be everything that you need. I love you more with every breath, truly madly deeply

Your wedding day was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, right? Wrong. From the moment you woke up that morning everything started going downhill. Your alarm hadn’t gone off so Natasha had to break into your room to wake you up. You had several missed calls from the florist and a message letting you know that the flowers you had ordered were delayed due to a storm preventing their delivery from the farm. It couldn’t get any worse, could it? Wrong again. Your parents plane had been cancelled, the celebrant had been involved in a minor accident on their way to the compound making them unable to perform the ceremony and on top of that your veil was missing and sometime during the night your cat had decided that your wedding dress made a good scratching post and ripped the delicate material to shreds. Despite all of these setbacks you pushed on, determined to not let anything ruin your day. Thankfully your make up and hair went off without a hitch which renewed your confidence in the day. Everything was running relatively smoothly until you put your dress on, any hope that the damage wasn’t as bad as you thought it looked was quickly quashed when you caught your reflection in the mirror. You flung yourself dramatically onto your bed Disney princess style as tears threatened to ruin your mascara.

“Y/N/N it’s not that bad you can barely tell,” Nat soothed, rubbing her hand up and down your back.

“Honest, Y/N it looks fine,” Wanda agreed.

“You’re both terrible liars,” you whined, “I’m not getting married, not today, not in this.”

“Y/N, don’t do this,” Nat pleaded.

“Today is supposed to be perfect, the happiest day of my life and nothing about this,” you wave your hands around and gestured to the dress, “is perfect.”

“Ok, fine we’ll give you some space, just please think before you make any rash decisions.” The door to your room clicked shut and as if it was a trigger, tears began falling thick and fast from your red-rimmed eyes. You knew it was weak and selfish to cry, you had everything to be happy about, you were going to marry the man of your dreams in a beautiful location surrounded by your friends and yet here you were, balling your eyes out and ruining your make up. A soft knock at the door pulled you from your self-pitying spiral.

“Come in,” you sniffled, trying your best to hide the evidence of your tears.

“Babe,” Tony’s soft voice came from the doorway. He was stood leaning against the doorframe in a soft grey suit with his white undershirt half buttoned.

“You know it’s bad luck to see me in my dress,” you tried to joke but your voice cracked. Tony laughed softly, moving to sit next to you on the bed. He cupped your face gently in his hand, wiping a stray tear from your cheek with a calloused thumb.

“You should know by now that I don’t care much for rules. Especially when there is talk that my bride won’t be showing up.” You were afraid to meet his eyes, scared of what you might see.

“Come on baby talk to me.” Tony gently tilted your chin up, studying you with worrisome eyes.

“T-today was supposed to be per-perfect but everything’s turning to shit. Why c-can’t anything in our lives just go to plan,” you choked out between sobs. Tony pulled you into a tight hug.

“Baby, I don’t care if you’re wearing a potato sack, as long as we’re together nothing else matters.” You’re overcome by a new wave of tears, “How about you clean yourself up and meet me on the roof in an hour? We can pop the champagne and watch the sunset, what do you say?”

“Y-yeah ok,” you pulled Tony down into a gentle kiss, “thank you.” Tony winked and pressed a kiss to your temple before leaving you alone in your room once again. You did as he had asked, reapplying your make up and changing into a dusty pink cocktail dress you had been saving for the reception. Making your way to the elevator you noted how quiet the compound had been, neither Nat nor Wanda had come back to see you and the usually bustling living room was dead silent, the team must have been making the most of their time off. You took the elevator to the roof, humming along to the soft music that was playing. As the doors tinged open you were lost for words with the sight that was before you.

A shaggy white carpet stretched from the elevator doors, dusted with gold confetti and pink petals. On either side of the aisle were white wooden chairs draped in pink fabric and behind those chairs stood the Avengers, your adoptive family, smiling warmly at you as you took in your surroundings.

“Y/N/N I found this,” Nat’s soft voice came from beside you, in her outstretched hand sat your veil.

“How? Where?” you asked.

“Long story,” she chuckled as she gently positioned the veil on your head, “perfect,” she whispered pressing a kiss to your cheek before covering your face with the silky lace and handing you a bouquet of white and pink flowers. Next to Nat stood Bucky who offered you his left arm.

“I know I’m not your dad but since I’m the oldest here I thought that it would only be fitting that I walk you down the aisle,” he said before quickly adding, “unless you don’t want me to.” You felt tears spring behind your eyes once again.

“Oh Buck I couldn’t think of anyone better,” you replied, pulling him in for a hug. When you pulled back you brushed your hands down your dress to smooth the non-existent wrinkles and straightened your veil. Taking a deep breath your accepted Bucky’s arm and looked down the aisle. At the end was a white garden arch decorated with pink flowers, greenery and fairy lights which twinkled as the sun set behind you. Underneath the arch stood Steve in the place of the celebrant who smiled at you like a proud dad. Next to him, stood in the same spot where you had shared your first kiss, first I love you’s and where he proposed, was Tony. He gasped in feign shock and bit his fist, his eyes crinkling adorably. Peter was stood next to him, a small speaker in his lap playing the wedding march as you and Bucky made your way down the aisle. A metre or so from Tony, Bucky stopped and lifted the veil off of your face before kissing your cheek and taking a seat at the front. Tony took your hands and closed the distance between the two of you.

“How?” you asked, your mind completely lost for any other words.

“Getordained.org,” Steve answered, “but more about that later.” He shut his eyes and took a breath as if to get into character, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union of Anthony Edward Stark and Y/Full/N in holy matrimony.” Steve continued, reading meticulously from a sheet of paper, after getting through the nitty gritty he finally reached the good stuff.

“Now for the vows,” he said, “Tony?”

“Y/N/N,” he started, “I knew from that first moment you called me a self-centred bastard that we were destined to be together” you laughed, smacking him lightly on the shoulder, “you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met, and I vow that I will spend the rest of my life trying to be the kind of man I know you deserve. I’ll be your hope, I'll be your love, be everything that you need. I love you more with every breath, truly madly deeply.” By that point you were a sobbing mess, looking up at Tony through tear-filled eyes you saw his own tears gently track down his face.

“Is the great Tony Stark crying?” you joked through sniffles.

“I think your eyes are playing tricks on you, my love,” he laughed as more tears spilt down his cheeks.

“And Y/N,” Steve interrupted.

“Tone, I am reminded every time I wake up by your side just how damn lucky I am to have you. I vow to stay by your side no matter what, whatever crazy shit you get yourself into, I’ll be right here,” you tap his chest where his heart lies, “Always.”

“My gosh guys you’re just the cutest,” Steve whispered, wiping tears from his own eyes. Composing himself, Steve continued, “Now for the rings, Pete.” Peter came forward carrying a plush pink pillow, on top of which sat 2 rings. One ring was a simple band of gold with three stones set into the metal, one red, one yellow and one blue. The other ring was more intricate, a large diamond was the centrepiece of the ring, the band on either side of the diamond curled gracefully, embellished with red, yellow and blue stones identical to the other ring.

“Oh Tony, they’re perfect,” you gasped.

“Nothing less for my girl,” he sighed, relief evident on his face that you liked his designs.

“Tony, repeat after me,” Steve said the lines as Tony took your left hand in his and slid the ring down your fourth finger.

“I, Anthony Edward Stark, take you, Y/Full/N, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, to love and to cherish, from this day forward,” Tony repeated, a cheek-splitting smile gracing his features. Then it was your turn, you repeated after Steve and slid the ring onto Tony’s finger. When it reached the base of his finger the audience cheered.

“You may now kiss the bride,” Steve announced. Tony swept you into his arms, dipping you back and kissing you like you were the last two people on Earth. You’d kissed Tony thousands of times before but something about this time was different, each brush of his lips against yours sent sparks radiating through your body, which started from your lips and spread right down to your toes. Your hands wound themselves into his hair as he swept his tongue across your bottom lip and deepened the kiss.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Steve cleared his throat, “I present to you Mr and Mrs Stark!” Tony brought you back up to your feet without breaking the kiss. He smiled against your mouth before pulling away, you chased his lips only to be met with a soft chuckle.

“Save some for tonight babe,” he smirked, causing heat to flood to your cheeks. Grabbing your husband by the hand you led him down the aisle as your friends tossed confetti and petals overhead. Husband. Now there was a word that you would have to get used to. Pressing the elevator button you turned back around to bid farewell to your family. Wanda and Nat were clutching each other and crying softly, Peter was snapping photos, Steve and Bucky were clapping politely while Sam stood on a chair whooping and yahooing into the night sky. The elevator dinged open and Tony pulled you inside, but not before you threw your bouquet into the crowd. There was a scuffle, a few grunts and groans before Thor came out of the pack victorious. You and Tony laughed at the god brandishing the flowers as the elevator doors closed.

“What now, Mr Stark?” you asked. Tony kissed you on the temple and pulled you into his side.

“Well Mrs Stark, I do believe we have a plane waiting for us.”

#star's marvel playlist #tony stark #tony stark marvel #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark x avenger!reader #marvel #marvel fic #marvel imagine #marvel x reader

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aphroditestummyrolls · 6 years ago

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For the prompt thing! @ihni , my BBY, here is the first of your prompts! This is 13 and 28! I hope you love them, tell me what you thiiiiink! ❤️

Every nerve in his body, it felt like, was alive with jitters. Billy wanted to punch someone, get in a fight, go for a run— anything to get rid of some of the intense energy building in his gut.

Fear. He couldn’t believe that of all the times to be driven through with fear, it would happen to him on the steps of the Byers house. It was a fucking stupid mistake to let Steve take him here. He was weak to agree in the first place.

“Hey, relax.” Steve said, soft and warm, taking his hand in his and squeezing “It’ll be an... adjustment. But once they know you like I do, they’ll love you like I do.”

The brunette looked so happy to have finally gotten Billy there— to his “family”— that he just couldn’t change his mind. He couldn’t let his Pretty Boy down.

Billy just nodded and tried a smile. Steve just smiled back, fidgeting nervously with Billy’s fingers in his hand and leaning in for one last kiss. It was a gentle press of lips on his, and Billy felt lighter and safer. He gripped the brunette’s hand tighter and melted into the kiss like there was no one on the other side of that door.

So it somehow managed to come as a surprise when that door was wrenched open, to Dustin fucking Henderson on the other side.

The cheeky smile the little shit had had at the sight of Steve dropped off his face in record time.

“No. Not you, anyone but you.” He said, going from shock, to disbelief, to rage. “What the fuck— the actual fuck— Steve, you can’t be serious!”

This was off to a great start, Billy thought. He tried to extricate his hand from the other boy’s then, but Steve only held him tighter.

The tension was palpable, but Steve just held up his free hand placatingly “Things are different now, kid. You gotta trust me on this.”

The swell of pride in his chest was almost too much to handle without grinning like a lovesick idiot. He would never say it out loud, but part of Billy had expected Steve to ditch him at the door. Part of him thought Steve would distance himself to cling to some semblance of heterosexuality, but if anything, it was the opposite. The brunette held his hand and led him into the small house, right past Henderson and all the other slack jawed twerps that had been alerted by Henderson’s loud cursing.

“Steve, who’s this?” A small woman came up to him, oven mitts on. She smiled with genuine warmth and Billy soaked that up like a flower looking up at the sun. Her eyes were sparkling like she knew who he was— at least, who he was to Steve— already.

“Joyce, this is Billy.” Steve smiled back. He was clearly relieved to see her, and Billy had never immediately trusted someone the way he trusted Joyce in that moment “He’s my boyfriend.”

“Billy, what the Hell?” Max cried, incredulous. Billy didn’t even spare her a glance.

“Don’t trust him, Mrs. B— he’s a fucking psycho!” the dark haired tall boy piped up. Steve whipped his head around to glare at the kid.

Over Joyce Byers’ shoulder, he could see the gawping faces of Princess Wheeler and Jonathan. A tall, gruff looking guy with a cigarette hanging from his lips was paused near the back door, taking him in.

Billy wanted so badly to just disappear. He wanted to look down at his boots until this was over and pretend he wasn’t a fucking spectacle. Steve stroked his knuckles with his thumb, jaw set stubbornly.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Billy.” Joyce touched his shoulder, sensing the tension. It was pretty much impossible not to, really. “Dinner’s just about ready— would you boys help me set the table?”

It got them away from the kids, at least, who let out a calamitous protest that grated on the remains of Billy’s patience.

“Hey, hey! Pipe down, relax—“ the man was saying, almost bored over the sound of all those little shitheads.

Lucas Sinclair called something called a “Party Meeting”, and they disappeared to Will’s room.

Joyce handed them forks and knives, plates, everything they would need, and left them to it while she and Jonathan finished up dinner prep.

“They’ll get used to it.” Steve said after setting out plates, setting his hand on the back of Billy’s neck as he folded a napkin so hard it tore.

“I’m fine, Harrington-“

“Really? Are you sure about that? You just give off the impression that you want to murder everyone you look at.” He chuckled, but Billy didn’t find it too fucking funny.

“Don’t say that too loud, Asshole— Henderson’ll call the fucking cops, or something.” He snapped, more harsh than he meant to be.

“And why would he do that?” The gruff man from earlier said, leaning in the threshold of the dining room.

Billy and Steve both took a couple steps back from each other. He strode up to Billy and extended a hand that the blonde was careful not to visibly flinch away from.

“Chief Jim Hopper, kid. You’re Billy?” He shook the offered hand. Steve had outed them to a cop, was he out of his goddamn mind?

Billy just gave a cocky half a smirk, hiding the alarm bells telling him to run like Hell away from this house and all the people in it that hated his guts.

“Billy Hargrove.” He nodded. Steve was chewing anxiously on his fingernails.

God, what a shitshow.

Sitting down to eat was a blessing and a curse. Clutching at Steve’s hand under the table, Billy took a slow bite of chicken and hated himself.

He actually wanted these people to like him, damnit. But, with all those kids watching him like he was a ticking bomb, Steve’s ex girlfriend sitting across from him, and the chief of the fucking police staring him down, Billy was starting to feel pretty hopeless.

Joyce was his one reprieve, asking “So Billy, you and Max are siblings?” and “Where in California are you from?”

He answered all the questions with as much charm as he could force while Steve fiddled with Billy’s hand under the table.

Max was looking at him, studying him all through dinner with the curly haired girl with the big eyes. Both of them were damn near looking right through him and he was acutely aware of how badly he needed a cigarette. If Max breathed a word of this to Neil, he’d fucking kill her, and he made sure to send her a glare that said that.

She just looked right back at him though, adding to the tension boiling over in the worn out dining room.

He finally escaped back to the front porch after they finished eating. Pacing and clenching his muscles, Billy took a long drag on his smoke and let himself revel in the relief of the hot burn in his lungs. He let the chilly spring evening nip at his skin, and tried to get himself together. He felt like he hadn’t properly breathed in the 2 hours since stepping into the Byers house.

When the door opened, he expected it to be Steve. But when he turned to look, there was a spark of anger igniting him all the way to his toes.

It was Henderson and his gaggle of brats.

“Well, if it isn’t the Fellowship of the fucking Ring.” He deadpanned, sucking down a lungful of smoke to tamp down his rage.

If any of them got the reference— which of course they would, look at those dweebs— they ignored him.

“What’s your angle with Steve?” Dustin said, trying to be tough.

“You’re asking me what my intentions are with your precious babysitter?” Billy replied, arching an eyebrow and blowing smoke in the little twerps face “What or who Steve Harrington does in his spare time is none of your business—“

“Just get out of here and leave him alone, you psycho!” That was the tall kid again.

“Who are you, again?” He sassed back, knowing full well that that must be Wheeler’s brother.

The kid just rolled his eyes at him “Fuck you, Hargrove!”

“Steve’s been through enough!” Sinclair cut in.

Throughout his berating from the Scooby Doo gang, Billy noticed something. Max was silent, looking almost embarrassed. Little Will Byers was staring at his shoes, and that curly little thing was still just staring at him. This was a pretty half assed intimidation tactic.

“Hey assholes!” The door opened again, flooding the step with a moat of yellow light. Steve was standing there with a dish towel over his shoulder, his lips pursed like he had smelled a rat. “What’re you doing?”

“Defending your honor!” Henderson shot back, as if it was obvious. “You’ve taken complete leave of your fucking senses!”

The brunette stepped out into the cool night “Taken leave of my— who even fucking says that, Dude?” He cried “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I’m happy?”

Happy. Steve was happy, Steve was defending Billy at the very house that he’d beaten him in. Something melted in Billy’s heart, and he finished off his smoke to hide the swell of emotions. He made Steve Harrington happy.

The whole train wreck of a night was suddenly worth every second.

Steve shooed the twerps back into the house “Go play Atari or something, leave Billy alone, Jesus Christ, guys...”

Billy grinned at the other boy, batting his eyelashes comically “Steve Harrington, you’re my hero. How will I ever repay you?”

Steve’s grin back was bright, and defeated the purpose of his eye roll “Yeah yeah— I can think of a couple ways.” His eyes sparkled, going a little dark even at the joking insinuation of sex, because Steve Harrington was an insatiable motherfucker.

“You guys are gross.”

Max was still standing there, hovering by the door.

“Then why are you listening, Maxine?” Billy replied, at the end of his rope.

“This is why you’ve been so nice lately, isn’t it?” She continued, not caring that she was ruining a moment “Apologizing to me and Lucas, driving me to the arcade.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged, taking hold of Steve’s fidgeting hand.

“If Neil catches you, he’ll make us move again.”

Billy rolled his eyes, not saying that if Neil found out this time, he’d skip the moving part and just beat Billy to death. He fucking wanted to, but instead he hissed out “Then I guess we shouldn’t tell him.”

Max nodded, like she was finally understanding something. She looked from their hands to their faces and back again.

“You’re still gross— but I’m happy for you, Billy.”

And maybe for that night, that was as good they were gonna get. That was fine with Billy.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #lemon writes #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 2 #fanfiction #harringrove fanfiction #prompt ask #the gang ™#the gang meets billy

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kurogabae · 6 years ago

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Hanahaki Unending

disease: a fictional disease where the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim’s romantic feelings for their love also disappear.

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [Hanahaki Unending tag]

Now on AO3

It had been months since Kurogane had felt so at peace.

He is in incredible pain – the part of his shoulder where he had cut through muscle and bone to sever his arm in order to rescue Fai aches and burns, the whole side of his torso where that insane king had managed to blast him with attack magic rages between stabbing ice and tearing electric shocks. On top of all of that his body feels like one whole bruise and even without moving he can tell he will be weak and stiff, and among all of that are a hundred stinging cuts and scrapes that cry out for an application of soothing balm.

He can breathe clearly, though, and the air he tastes is terribly familiar.

Tomoyo is the second thing he sees when he opens his eyes to the familiar ceiling of Shirasagi Castle’s private medical wing. She is sat by him, eyes soft and voice warm as she welcomes him home. It is what he has been looking for, what this entire, insane, ridiculous journey has been all leading towards. He is finally back at his princess’ side.

Without the Hanahaki tearing him open from the inside he can feel the full pain of the realization that it isn’t all he needs anymore.

The way that Tomoyo speaks to him, though, makes him think that she knows this already, that she expects him to remain by the sides of those he had arrived with. Part of him feels like a traitor. He had sworn an oath, he has a duty, but if Tomoyo gave her blessing is he really breaking his oath? She is, afterall, the one who sent him off in the first place.

This is entirely her fault.

Which reminds Kurogane of something he wants to ask her, now that he can.

“I see you’ve finally learned the true meaning of strength,” Tomoyo says proudly. She touches the empty sleeve at his side gently, her small hand brushing the fabric with only her fingertips. Her hand falls back to her lap as she speaks again. “And that the condition the others were concerned about has cleared up as well.”

He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that Syaoran and Fai brought up the Hanahaki to Tomoyo and the medics. In the end, he agrees with their choice.

“Speaking of that,” he says. “Did you know this would happen?” He does not insult her by accusing her of anything. The question is what it is; a question. “Is that why you always made me read that fairytale to you?”

Her smile is rueful for a moment, and then she shakes her head. “I didn’t know this would happen,” she clarifies. “But I knew you were someone who was particularly susceptible to the Hanahaki Disease, I needed a way to prepare you, just in case you ever came down with it.”

That is not at all the answer he expects, and it must show on his face when Tomoyo continues without prompting.

“The Hanahaki Disease is an illness that is born of the heart, and those who feel deeply and fiercely are more likely to fall victim to it than those with shallower emotions,” she says, looking up at Kurogane, who feels his jaw slacken slightly. “You have always been someone who deals in extremes, Kurogane, and I knew you would one day leave my side to go on a journey. I had no idea if you would find love on this journey, let alone if that love would be returned or not. I did what I could.”

There is a pang in his chest, one of gratitude and love. It is bittersweet and leaves a dull ache, but it is by no means a bad feeling. It takes a few seconds, but Kurogane does manage to smile, small but heartfelt, and thank Tomoyo. It’s probably the first time he’s thanked her since they were children. He will have to be better about that.

Tomoyo looks happy and proud, there’s a twinkle in her eyes that reminds Kurogane of his mother and when he catches sight of it he doesn’t immediately turn away. He thinks this might be what healing is. It’s a good feeling.

Then, she turns towards the screen door and the rest of the world comes into focus for Kurogane in a snap. “Thank you for waiting, you may come in now.”

How he had failed to sense anything outside of his room is beyond him, but that he didn’t sense Fai standing just on the other side of that thin paper door sends his mind spinning. He nearly panics, his instincts calling for him to rise and double- no triple check the perimeter. His body is unable to meet those demands, but his mind feels as if it may force obedience regardless.

It doesn’t have the chance, though, because Fai is there, whole and alive and wearing a beautiful furisode that Tomoyo no doubt fashioned specifically for him. His hair reflects the warm light of the candles in the corner of the room and the cool moonlight that pours into the room from the open veranda doors where it falls into his face, hiding his one good eye and most of the eyepatch from view. He is breathtaking and Kurogane can feel his pulse quicken with each measured step Fai takes towards him.

He schools his features, waits for several seconds to see if Fai will speak first, and when only silence meets his ears Kurogane says the only thing he can think to, “Hey.”

He is hit soundly on the side of his head, probably the only thing left undamaged from their latest near death adventure, and taken so off guard and so off balance that he finds himself tumbling backwards into the frame of the shoji. He blinks up in confusion and surprise, but before he can demand any explanations he sees it.

Fai is smiling, fist still held up and eye shining with… Kurogane doesn’t know what. He has never seen that look on Fai before, but it’s one he likes. “That’s payback, Kuro-sama.”

If the Hanahaki had not already cleared itself from his lungs it would have at that point. Kurogane’s heart is soaring as he grins up at Fai and promises to kick his ass, the exchange familiar and new all at the same time. He notices Tomoyo take her leave without a word, and is thankful once more. He needs this time with Fai. There is a lot to be said.

And yet they sit together in silence for what could have been days, but what Kurogane knows is probably just shy of an hour. Fai helps him wordlessly to the veranda, eases him down to sit and look out into the familiar sky Kurogane has known all his life, and tucks himself close to the side that is now missing an arm. Even through their clothes and the bandage wrappings, Kurogane can feel the warmth of Fai. He’s hyper aware of their proximity now after so long of having distance forced between them.

The feeling is nice, and the silence isn’t uncomfortable even as it is humming with words unspoken between them. Kurogane knows they should talk, that they need to, but he’s stubbornly unwilling to release this delicate peace he’s been granted. He realizes that he’s worried it will all shatter and be taken away from him again.

So when it’s Fai who finally speaks it’s both a relief and a shock.

“The children are okay,” he says. “More or less.”

Kurogane is glad to hear as much from Fai, but he’s not surprised by the news. He hadn’t been worried over the fate of Syaoran or Sakura, if something had happened to either of them Tomoyo would have made sure to tell him, she wouldn’t have been able to hide it from him. Still, he thanks Fai for the news.

“Tomoyo-chan fussed quite a lot over Sakura-chan, I suppose that might be something that will always be,” he continues. He’s avoiding the true topic at hand, but Kurogane can’t be mad, he’s not doing any better himself. “Everyone’s more or less healed up, except you.”

Fai leans ever so slightly more into Kurogane’s side and Kurogane feels his heart rate pick up. Fai must hear it, the vampire ever tuned in to him, because he leans back almost immediately, an apology half formed on his lips.

Kurogane cuts it off. “Don’t,” he says. Don’t apologize, don’t run away anymore. Don’t put anymore distance between us. He reaches over awkwardly with his single hand and pulls Fai back to him. “It’s okay.”

And it is. It’s all okay. It’s all out in the open now and it’s okay. Or it will be.

“Kuro-sama I-”

“How do you want to be called now?” Kurogane asks, unable to stomach any sort of apology from Fai. He would be a liar if he said he hasn’t been thinking about it either. “The same or with your proper name?”

Fai can only stare at him for what feels like ages. Eventually he snaps out of his stupor and shakes his head. “Is that it? That’s all you have to say?” He doesn’t sound angry. Perhaps incredulous. “After everything you saw, everything you learned, you ask me which name I want to use?”

Kurogane shrugs his uninjured shoulder, the movement awkward for it’s false nonchalance. “I think it’s an important question.” And he does. One’s name is a sacred thing, especially in Nihon. And this man beside him has not used his own birth given name in lifetimes.

“Fai. It’s all I have left of him,” he says, gazing out into the starry night sky. “If I use his name, some part of him still gets to live on.”

Kurogane nods and hums his approval. A good answer and a fine reason. He would have accepted anything Fai told him, but this decision sits well with him easily.

“Now it’s my turn for a question,” Fai says with little preamble. He’s still looking into the stars. “When we arrived we warned the medics and healers about the Hanahaki, but they said it was nowhere to be seen. How can that be?”

It is impossible to tell if Fai had asked Tomoyo about this and had been denied an answer or if he had been agonizing over this question silently while Kurogane slept, but either way, Kurogane is glad to have an answer to give him, especially since he technically owes him one as it is.

“Because the condition to cure it was applied,” he answers. He waits for Fai to meet his eyes before he explains. “Only three things rid a person of Hanahaki; death, the removal of the flower and the sufferer’s love, or the reciprocation of that love.”

Fai’s eye is wide and shimmering with unshed tears. He opens and closes his mouth a few times in false starts until he can finally speak. “But I… I never got the chance to say…”

“When the manjuu was transporting us out of Celes,” Kurogane says. “You said ‘please don’t leave me’ remember?” Fai nods quietly, clearly not understanding. “I knew then. After everything I had seen and everything I knew about you, you never would have said that to me if you didn’t love me as well.”

Love is selfish, and it was that knowledge and the following realization that cleared Kurogane’s heart and lungs of the cursed flower back then. The first clear breath of air had been icy and painful in a way that Kurogane was familiar with for reasons other than heartbreak. He watches Fai absorb what he’s been told and ignores the burning in his cheeks. It’s not an easy thing to speak so frankly about his emotions, he’s not used to it and the words feel clumsy no matter how honest they are. But this is honesty Fai deserves, honesty Kurogane has wanted to give him for too long. It’s the least of the things Kurogane wants to give Fai.

The honesty seems to be enough, though, because Fai reaches up a hand to cup Kurogane’s cheek. He’s smiling and a few tears have fallen from his eye, but there’s no sadness in that beautiful, loved face, and Kurogane thanks every star in the sky for that blessing.

“You stupid, stubborn, wonderful man,” Fai says through a mix between a sob and a chuckle. “You could have died, and for what? To be in love with me!”

Fai is all but in his lap without warning, keeping balance for them both as he kisses Kurogane. It’s gentle and he can feel the tears on Fai’s cheek, but it’s perfect and Kurogane could happily spend the rest of eternity doing nothing else, forever in this moment with this man. But Fai pulls away all too soon and between one breath and the next Kurogane finds himself unable to suppress a yawn.

Smiling playfully, Fai taps Kurogane on the nose. “Big Puppy is still recovering, he needs his rest and to take it easy or he’ll open up the stitches the healers worked so hard on.” Fai slides easily to his feet and helps Kurogane up. “Last thing we need is for you to go and bleed to death on us now.”

Ahh, speaking of…

“Mage, when did you last drink?” Kurogane asks as he slides the outer door shut with a soft click.

At first Fai freezes, reflex mostly Kurogane is sure. He watches it fade away, hears the low hiss of a breath that Fai releases, measured and purposeful.

“When we arrived,” he says. “There was plenty of your blood already outside of you, I took advantage at Syaoran-kun and Tomoyo-chan’s insistence.”

“How long was I asleep?” Kurogane asks. Fai doesn’t answer, but the lack of response is answer enough. “Mage,” he says warningly. “Don’t make this continue to be difficult.”

“You’re still healing,” Fai says, and there is icy steel in his tone. He’s trying not to be unkind, trying to keep away from how things have been for the last couple of months, but he cannot fight Kurogane about this without real barbs.

Even so, Kurogane still fights a little dirty. All the better to quicken the pace and bring an end to this nonsense. “I’ll worry if you don’t.”

That gets Fai to turn on his heel, blue eye blazing. He knows that Kurogane has gone for the kill and he looks just a touch betrayed, but he takes in Kurogane, standing before him, open and honest and now knowingly in love and the change in his body language is obvious.

“Only a little.”

“So long as you aren’t skulking around starving yourself,” Kurogane concedes. He’ll accept this compromise for now. He’s tired and this regained closeness is too precious to test with a proper argument just yet.

“Get in bed,” Fai commands with what can only be described as a pout. “You’re already tired, I’ll bet you knock out after I take a mouthful.”

Kurogane rolls his eyes, but obeys nonetheless, slipping under the sheets of his futon with weakened limbs. He can tell that it will take weeks for him to be back to normal again and he’s already impatient at the thought. There’s too much to do, he hasn’t got the time or the luxury to slow them all down with his healing. But he does have tonight, and he has Fai, so he lets the frustration pass from his mind as Fai extinguishes the oil lamp on the far side of the room.

“Are you going to stay?” Kurogane asks. It’s easy to watch Fai move towards him in the shadows. The moon outside is bright and it’s gentle glow highlights Fai’s fair features beautifully. It also makes it easy to see the surprise flit across his face before a smile, soft and genuine, settles on his lips.

“For as long as I’m wanted,” he says, adjusting the folds of the unfamiliar clothing awkwardly as he lowers himself onto Kurogane’s lap. It’s a graceless motion, but Fai is careful to ease himself into Kurogane’s space and avoid causing any pain to his plethora of injuries.

Kurogane reaches up and runs his fingers through golden strands of unruly hair. “I’m always going to want you,” he says, exhaustion and unbridled joy at finally being able to be with Fai like this ruining any brain to mouth filter he had. “I thought I’d made that clear.”

Fai laughs quietly, chiding and playful all at once. “You have,” he says, “I finally understand now.”

There is still a dangerous road ahead of them. A monster is lurking at the end of the road and they have little choice but to face him, but this time they will face him as one. No more are they frightened, confused children fearing shadows and uncertainties. They aren’t alone, and they have something to fight for, something tangible and real. They have their children, they have each other.

Tonight they will rest, wrap themselves in one another and find comfort in softer, kinder things. Tomorrow is another day, and it will wait for just a little while longer.

#KuroFai #TRC #CLAMP #Kurogane #Fai Flourite #my fics #Hanahaki Unending #spoilersTRC

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ultiwrites · 6 years ago

Text

October writing challenge 6-7

Following @horrificmemes ‘s list. And yeah, i’m still doing this lmao.

Day 1 : Revenge

Day 2 : Lookalike

Day 3 : Transformation

Day 4 : Scream

Day 5 : Creature, Night sky

Day 6-7 : Poison, Doll (Hollow)

He swallowed the sobs that tried to find their way out his throat, nearly choking in the process, vocal chords feeling raw and tender, aching from all the screams he'd had to swallow.

He curled even closer against the weight in his arms, plastering himself more to the wall and willing his breaths to be silent, soft, no matter how much he just wanted to scream and wail and curse.

This was all his fault anyway, he had no right neither time to feel pity for himself.

He slowly leaned forward, resting his forehead against his friend's, his breath hitching for a tick, then stopping altogether when he heard footsteps, loud and thunderous in the stillness that surrounded him as he hid in the crevice of a broken wall, curled into a ball and trying to be invisible.

The noises faded away in the distance eventually, but the panic remained, remnants of crazed eyes and twisted smiles making his skin crawl, making him clutch on his friend tighter as he held his breath, trying to listen for the other's, heart freezing when he thought he couldn't feel them.

They were too soft, too feeble.

Holding someone you loved in your arms while they struggled to breathe was nothing short of painful, and he couldn't take his eyes away from his teammate in fear that his chest stopped moving altogether.

His eyes were vacant and empty, staring straight ahead at nothing, looking like he wasn't there. His mouth was slightly parted, skin pale and clammy, body completely boneless and lax, looking like a marionette whose's strings had been cut. He could barely feel his heartbeat through the closeness of his hold, and it scared him to think it could stop and he would be none the wiser if he so much as leaned away.

If he didn't do something soon, he would be...

He wouldn't allow it.

Not his friend, not his family.

This had been his fault, and he wouldn't rest until he made things right, until he made sure he was safe. He wiped his eyes with the back of his gloved hand, clenched his jaw and bit his lip, inhaled through his nose and let the determination drown him, invigorate him, shroud his body like a second skin.

No matter what happened to him, he would protect his family.

It was the least he could do.

-5 hours earlier-

Lance walked out of his pod, yawning and blinking sleepy eyes in hopes of becoming more alert, squinting against the three stars that made the sky a vibrant green, hurting his vision with the intensity of it's color. He had been sent to planet Karakuri to seal an alliance with the natives there, the Kuria, whom Allura had said had been allies of Altea and her father long before Zarkon lost his mind, that they were agreeable and honorable people and it would be easy.

He kind of thought that she'd jinxed him, but she'd waved his hand and said that nothing bad could happen this time. Again, he'd thought that that was inviting bad luck to bite him in the ass, but she'd just glared at him and shooed him away towards the hangar, her frustrated expression becoming fond after a tick, waving him goodbye.

He used his helmet to analyze the air and see if he could take it away, sighing in relief when he did so, the gentle breeze feeling wonderful against his sweaty skin. The planet was humid as all hell, and his suit was doing nothing for him, it was plastered to his body and the sensation was uncomfortable.

He wiped his head around, looking for his partner in this mission, but it seemed like he hadn't arrived yet-

Ah. There he was.

Another pod descended and landed just besides his, the ramp opening as Keith strided forward, running to Lance's side and taking his helmet away when he noticed he didn't have his own.

"Sorry for the wait, Lance. My mom wanted to run our next mission by me again." He smiled at his friend, chuckling at his sheepish expression.

"Don't worry dude, it's all good. Let's just go to the castle, I'm sweating buckets here." He fanned himself with his hand, prompting Keith to snort and nod his head, both of them walking alongside the path and towards the big castle on the other side.

It took them only minutes to arrive, and the King and his advisors were readily waiting for them, slightly bowing - in respect, or as a salute, he didn't know which. These aliens were...To put it mildly, they made him uncomfortable at first glance. They were humanoid in form, with ashen skin and gaunt appearances, fuzzy spongy hair, long limbs and noses, with mouths that stretched from side to side of their faces and big eyes that shone too bright for his liking.

They also made a strange sound as they walked, but Lance wasn't anyone to judge by looks alone, and Allura had assured them over and over that they were allies. So he would be respectful and dutifully carry out his role as a diplomat.

He slowly approached the King and shook his hand, the skin cold as ice and just as hard, then proceeded to make idle chat that slowly devolved into talks about alliances, the coalition, weaponry and armies and everything Allura had instructed into him as the representative of Voltron.

From time to time, he would side glance Keith, who sometimes gave his input about something, his brow slightly furrowed with his hand constantly at his hip, right where his luxite blade was. It was a sign that something was putting him on edge or making him uncomfortable or wary, and it might had been the alien's appearance or the slight mechanical tone of their voice, but Lance could agree that he wanted to finish this quick and return to the Atlas as soon as possible.

"That is wonderful, Paladin Lance. But we should continue our talk while we dine, if you do not mind a small walk through the gardens first. My daughter, Luktar, likes to wander around there, it's her favorite place, she loves the flowers and the stone fountain." He nodded with a smile, and followed the King -Keith in tow- and his entourage as they guided them through the castle's hallways, slowly inching towards his teammate's side to whisper to him.

"Hey, Keith. You seem quite nervous, is everything okay?" The other looked at him through the corner of his eye, biting his lip, his hand never leaving the handle of his blade.

"I don't know, Lance. I'm just....something feels...off. My instincts are screaming at me and...I don't know why." Lance frowned, looking around for any sign of danger, noticing the small cracks in the walls and some withered plants, rusted armors and a slight coating of dust on the furniture.

It was nothing strange, every culture was different and, it was obvious that as wealthy as the royals were, they didn't care much about appearances, just enough to distinguish who was well-born and who was a commoner. But still...

Keith's gut feelings and instincts had never steered them wrong before, and he wasn't about to doubt them now. Although his feeling could come from many things, so they couldn't just ruin this mission before knowing that they were facing.

"Maybe the Galra are lurking on this planet..." He whispered. "...or maybe some bounty hunters will be after our heads like last time, who knows. Whatever the reason, just....stay on guard, and let me know if your 'feeling' gets stronger, okay?" Keith nodded wordlessly, and Lance straightened from his bent position, watching the light at the end of the hallway that eventually revealed a beautiful garden, full of exotic plants and flowers.

Someone was approaching them from the left, clad in bright pink clothes that matched their peach skin perfectly, sporting a veil that covered the lower half of their face, possibly to conceal their large mouth, their frizzy beige hair up in a big bun. It was a big difference from the pale demeanor of the other natives, and he wondered why that might be, only to lose his train of though as the newcomer spoke.

"Father! I see you've welcomed out guests already. I am so sorry I was late, I made some refreshments as an apology, I hope our brave paladins accept this small gift." He had the feeling that the...Princess? smiled under her veil, eyes crinkling as she handed some drinks to her father and his servants, then approaching Lance to do the same.

"I am sorry, Sir Paladin, it seems I miscounted how many drinks I needed, I only have one left." The Princess looked apologetic, staring at him although she was waiting for his disapproval. In all honestly, he didn't want to drink anything they gave him right now, but the others were enjoying it without trouble, some already having finished them, and he didn't want to be disrespectful in such an important mission.

So he smiled at the Princess and took the glass, watching her eyes lit up as she giggled softly, walking towards her father's side and chatting with him as she glanced at him from time to time, looking eager and nervous, as if she was seeking approval for the concoction she'd made.

Lance resigned himself to drink something that he knew was going to taste disgusting, and rose the glass to his lips, smelling the faint aroma of strawberries and milk, ready to take a gulp before-

A hand snatched it away, and before he could do anything, Keith had downed it in one go.

The black paladin sent a toothy smirk towards the Princess, who looked flabbergasted and surprised, but immediately beamed and bowed her head in appreciation and gratitude, her posture relaxed and expression happy as she spoke to her father.

"Keith..." He seethed under his breath. " Why did you do that? They might have taken offense or something, we dont know how their culture works." Keith gave the glass to one of the maids and took a deep breath, looking Lance dead in the eye, the fire that he was so familiar with begginig to burn brighter behind his eyelids.

"I don't know. Something just didn't feel right with me, you know how it goes. My Galra side detects something and urges me to act, but my human side doesn't have an idea what the problem is or what I was acting on, and I have to find for myself." Keith shrugged, annoyance clear in his face as he sported a small pout. His Galran heritage had given him trouble in a few occasions, and, although Krolia and Kolivan had tried to help him to the best of their ability, as he was a hybrid, there were many things they didn't understand.

So right now, his Galran side may have screamed at him to ' Drink the glass' but gave no reasoning neither an inkling as to why, and it left his teammate with a big ass question mark above his head, having to unravel the mystery by himself.

"Okay buddy, I get it. Just....try to hold back next time?" He hopefully asked, trying to be gentle, knowing how much Keith hated the things out of his control, specially things that had to do with his own body.

His friend nodded and they both followed the King again, finally ending in a big dining hall in which not him -neither Keith- ate anything, and used up their time to convince the King to join them instead while the Princess shared her input as to why they should.

Everything was going smoothly when Lance noticed that the sky was beginning to darken, and his clock read 9 pm Earth time, time for them to leave and come back tomorrow to discuss whatever matters they hadn't been able to today.

He rose from his chair and began saying his goodbyes when he felt fingers curl around his wrist, and he turned to the side to watch Keith curled up on his chair, hand on his stomach, parlor pale and lips a straight line as he shallowly breathed.

"Keith? Keith, what's wrong?" He kneeled before him, noticing the way his eyes were squinting and blinking continuously, shoulders shaking slightly as the grip he had on Lance's wrist tightened. He raised his hand and felt his forehead, noticing the icy feel of his skin and the cold sweat that dripped down his neck, internally panicking and wondering what to do, he looked to be in pain.

"Paladin, what's going on?" The Princess approached, brows furrowed and voice hurried and frantic, the worry palpable in her tone.

"I don't know, he just...he doesn't seem to be feeling well..." Keith coughed and shook his head, and his body began falling forward and right onto Lance's arms, the coldness and tremors making Lance's heart stop, drowning him in concern. " Keith! " He called his name, hoping for an answer, but he only got ragged breaths in return and a pained moan that broke his heart.

"Quick paladin, take him to the medical ward!" The Princess shouted, already running there as she trusted Lance to follow her, which he did. He cradled Keith close to his chest and stood up, holding him tight, then began walking as fast as he could, eventually running with all his might until he arrived at a hospital-like room, where the Princess instructed him to lay Keith down on one of the beds.

"I will have one of my doctors run a scan to find out what's wrong." She told him seriously, her voice grave and filled with the authority only a Princess could have. "You should go and contact your team." The Princess began tinkering with the many machines around, giving him his back.

"I am not leaving him." He said, determined to stick by and make sure nothing bad happened to him, make sure that they could help him and, if not, take him back to the Atlas for treatment.

"Paladin, I do not know if we'll be able to help, we have no knowledge on your species, he's here just for first aid. You need to contact your team, but this room is specifically constructed to block any kind of signal, because it interferes with our machinery and is dangerous for patients." She continued connecting cables and controlling the stats on a screen, continuously typing and moving around, even going as far as ripping her skirt to be able to go back and forth without restrictions, as fast as needed be.

Lance looked at Keith's pained face once, and knew that he had no choice, he needed to call Shiro and the others, he had to take Keith back home to find what was wrong, had to make sure he was safe. He approached his teammate and whispered comforting words into his ear, brushing his hair back from his clammy forehead, then leaning back.

"I'll be right back, Keith, you'll be okay. I promise." He nodded at the Princess, who returned the gesture, before striding away from the room, putting on his helmet and hailing the Atlas as soon as he was a corridor away, but only static welcomed him, so he ran further and tried again, and again, and again....

As his panic continued to grow, he noticed that no matter how far he got, his systems didn't seem to want to function, and in his haste to find a good spot, he'd returned to the garden, running right through the rocky path, breathing heavily as he wildly looked for a connection.

He turned towards the right and began running again, but his leg collided with something and he fell face first onto the ground, his helmet falling away while he let out a scream of pain.

He spat out dirt and pushed himself away from the floor, opening his eyes to search for his helmet in desperation-

Only gray greeted him.

He blinked once, twice, three times.

He rubbed his eyes and glanced around, uncomprehending.

What had once been a colorful, lush and vibrant garden was now nothing more than ashes and rot; the ground was gray- as was everything else- the trees and plants were withered and decaying, most of them dead, and the fountains and stones were cracked and broken with no water inside.

The air smelt pungent and sour, the smell of soot and rot and stagnation mixing together in a suffocating perfume that spoke of death. There wasn't even any noise; the previous chatter of bird-like creatures and running water was gone, no more rustling of leaves and wind chimes filling the silence, only a foreboding stillness that was broken by the wail of a desolate landscape.

Lance held his breath and looked at his foot, seeing the machine he had tripped onto, fumbling as he looked for some kind of switch, something- He found it, and pressed it, and in an instant, the beauty was back, like a dream, like paradise- He crushed the device under his foot, and brought back the reality alongside a feeling of dread that did nothing to his growing panic.

Something was really, really wrong here.

He needed to get Keith, right now

He scrambled for his helmet, with still no news from his failing comms, and ran all the way towards the medical ward, bayard in hand, eyes wide open and ears trained to catch any kind of sound. He arrived within a minute, but as he'd feared, when he opened the doors, Keith was nowhere to be seen, and Lance felt his gut clench with nausea and his head beginning to spin as he thought of the many horrible fates that could have befallen his best friend.

Neither Black nor Red could come because they were healing after an arduous battle; his comms were shot, Keith was missing and he was alone- god-

Just when he was pondering what to do, voices began seeping into the hall, and he hid under a bed just as a few soldiers passed by, muttering to themselves.

"Have you seen the Red one?" Their voices were monotonous, and made shivers run down his spine.

"No. Princess asked us to find him and bring him back, but he is nowhere to be seen." Another voice, devoid of feeling, speaking as if it didn't matter to them, as if it didn't concern them at all.

"Continue looking." Affirmative noises. Then their footsteps faded away in the distance, still emitting that strange sound, like the rattling of metal inside wood, heavy and loud admist the continuous noises in the medical ward, all of them making it hard for him to think.

Getting up from under the bed, he tried his comms one last time, and, seeing as he still got no response, he left a recorded message in case the signal came back, hoping that one of his teammates would receive it and come help them. When he was finished, he took out his bayard and drew his sword, peeking over the hallways and hugging the walls when he was sure there was no one near him.

His helmet's systems were all shot, so he couldn't look for heat signatures or try to pinpoint Keith's suit location, so he had to resort to look for him in the traditional way, which did nothing to his distress and agitation, his heart thundering inside his chest with fear.

What if he was too late? What if something horrible had already happened to him? He would never forgive himself. Tears sprang to his eyes at the mere thought.

He wiped at them before looking around, realizing that he was in a part of the castle that he didn't recognize, with dark walls and even a darker floor, all coated in a layer of velvet cloth that made it seem like everything was covered in blood.

It gave him the chills, but if they hadn't visited this area before, then there was the possibility that they had taken Keith here. He needed to look. And so he did.

Amongst the corridor, there were many doors, all of them closed with writing on them that he couldn't understand, but a few feet before him, one stood slightly ajar, a faint light illuminating the hallway. He stood glued to the wall, turning his head slowly and peeking inside, squinting to try and see through the haze and brightness.

At first, he couldn't understand what he was seeing.

There were....rows and rows of some kind of machines, seemingly made of wood with a slight humanoid form, giving him their back. He knew from Allura's info that these aliens's abilities consisted in making weapons that resembled dolls, battle machines that fought and followed their master's wishes, and that were pretty strong and durable.

Enough to fend off the Galra for ten thousand years.

He tried to get a closer look, but just then, a voice he knew echoed loudly from his right, and he whirled around to see another open door, this one far ahead, and strained his ears to catch what was being said, his fist closed tightly around the handle of his sword.

"This one's so pretty....not as pretty as the other one, but still exotic enough. It is sad that he has Galra genes, but I am sure I will be able to fix it, I just need the right tools." Lance's blood froze in his veins, there was only one person who the Princess could be talking about. " Guard him well. Not that he can go anywhere, but I do not want his companion to find him, understood?" A chorus of 'Yes, Princess' followed her words, and then footsteps grew nearer, and, in his panic, he ducked into the room, holding his breath and trying to calm the racing of his heart.

Thankfully, the room he'd ran into rattled with noise, creaking and rustling and the sound of wood being shifted around that seemed to be everywhere, all of those hopefully masking his harsh breaths and the tremble of his hands.

When he was sure that the Princess had gone away, he left the room and stealthily walked towards the other door, peeking in with his heart in his throat, praying to god like a mantra to 'Let Keith please be allright'. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the light, he froze on the spot.

Keith was sitting on a big, plush chair, his hair brushed back and tied in a small ponitail, his body clad in a white robe layered with a violet vest that covered him whole, his uniform thrown away on the floor by his side. He wasn't doing anything, eyes trained in front of him, head slightly tilted to the right, mouth open and hands resting on the sides, looking like he was in a trance, body so immobile Lance thought he wasn't even breathing.

And it was that thought what prompted him to move, barging in and taking the guards by surprise, managing to stab one in the heart. The other one jumped over him, his hands going to Lance's neck, applying force that felt like too much for someone their size and weight, making the cogs in Lance's mind begin to spin and slowly fall into place.

He kicked at the soldier with his legs and threw him off balance, then used the opportunity to bring his sword up, changing to his blaster and shooting him in the face, the other falling to the side and remaining unmoving.

He hurried to move the soldier away, and as soon as he was free, he ran towards Keith's side, hands going to his neck and wrist, trying to feel for a pulse, feeling the fear and anger rise in a deafening crescendo that didn't stop until he found a heartbeat; slow, feeble.

Too much to be healthy, too much to be normal, but there.

He sighed in relief and rested his forehead against Keith's chest, slowly looking into his eyes and tying to speak to him, get a reaction or even a twitch of his fingers.

"Keith, hey, it's me, Lance." He cradled his cheek and slowly patted it." C'mon can you hear me? Say something please, blink if you can hear my voice, do something- anything." But Keith remained a statue, empty eyes gazing at nothing, body a dead weight reclining against the seat. He didnt even blink once, his lashes didn't flutter and his lips didn't move, it was as if he was frozen solid, and Lance wanted to scream.

He had to get away. Had to get Keith help.

He struggled to move Keith the way he wanted, but eventually managed to carry him on his back, the sound of his breaths calming him somehow. He looked at the floor to sidestep the bodies of the soldiers, and stilled when he noticed that there was no blood at all, and that the way their bodies were strewn around was...wrong and unnatural.

He crouched down and touched the hole he made on the soldier's chest, freezing when he heard a small sound coming from it, like the ticking of a clock or the rotation of cogwheels. He turned on the lights on his helmet, and, gulping in a deep breath, looked inside the hole.

Something moved inside, and with a choked shriek, he backed away so fast he nearly dropped his teammate. The soldier fell to the side from the speed of his movement, and his robe fell open, showing his chest and arms-

Lance gagged and covered his mouth, whimpering.

All the way from his elbow to his neck, a big cut divided the skin in two, the edges broken and slightly green, stitched together with a thick thread that haphazardly kept the two halves together. On the center of his chest, there was another one that ran all the way down, disappearing under his shirt, just as badly stitched as the arm, a gaping hole in the sewing letting him see the inside for a tick, catching a glimpse of wood and iron, broken tissue and remnants of clogged blood.

He looked away and vomited on the floor, struggling to keep Keith on his back, tears springing to his eyes as he pieced together the mystery unraveling in front of him.

He stood up on shaky legs, staggering towards the soldier he'd shot in the face, nudging him with his foot to turn him around, eyes widening and stomach clenching at the sight of ripped skin and a wooden piece under it, the smell coming from it foul and nauseating.

He gasped and wheezed, looking at the many figures hanged on the walls with racks, the supposed weapons that the Kurians were so skilled at making, the battle dolls. But when he approached them and rolled up their sleeves, the same cuts and stitches on the skin greeted him, and a horrifying realization turned icy the blood in his veins.

He backed away slowly, looking around, remembering the many rooms with hundreds upon hundreds of dolls lined on the walls, and resisted the urge to scream. But then, a rattling sound began filling the room, louder and louder as the seconds ticked by. The dolls' eyes rolled on their head and looked at him, all of them at the same time, their mouths stretched impossibly wide into twisted smiles.

And he did scream.

He kicked the door open and ran with all his might, remembering to take Keith's bayard with him before he left, goosebumps rising on his skin when a myriad of footsteps began trailing his path, their voices distorted and mechanical- not human.

"Found him. Find him. The Princess orders it so. Do not let him escape. Retrieve the doll, retrieve the new doll." This was insane, the Princess was crazy. He needed to tell the King or- or one of the villagers, maybe the maids would be able to help him-

He crossed paths with the King just as he thought this, and was about to yell for him when he noticed his stance, lax and slumped, head twisted to look down the corridor Lance was running from, eyes rolling around abnormally until they finally settled on him.

The noise he made was shrill and inhuman, and Lance was fast to turn he other way and run towards the garden, looking for a way out. His legs burnt from the effort, and his chest felt like it was going to burst; both with panic and fear, but he couldn't stop, Keith needed him, he had to keep him safe, had to get them away from these...monsters.

On his mad dash throughout the castle, he met with villagers and soldiers, maids and children and royals, the cook and the gardener and the medic; all of them began pursuing him as soon as they saw him, and all of them sported the same cuts on their wrists, hidden by fine made clothes, their insides rattling as they ran after him.

Everyone had been turned into a doll, there was no one left alive.

And, no matter how far he ran or how well he hid, the dolls always found him, scratching at him like ferocious beasts, brandishing daggers and knifes and whatever they considered a weapon, forcing him to retreat and go back to running.

It was an endless hunt, and they never grew tired.

But Lance did, and he was getting desperate, taking twists and turns in different directions, trying to lose the monsters intent on catching him.

And it was on one of his blind turns on the castle hallways that he heard a voice he recognized; the voice of the Princess, scolding someone with a high pitched tone of voice, speaking loud on a room nearby. Lance glanced around, frantic, and noticed that he was next to the medical ward once more, catching sight of a hole in the wall behind a painting and hurrying to hide inside, holding Keith against his chest as he crammed them both in the tight space.

"You have not found them yet? How useless can you be? The potion he drank will only last until the stars have dimmed, and I do not know what kind of effects it will have on a Galran hybrid. You need to find my doll so I can complete the transition, understood? Failure is not an option." Lance held his breath and let the echo of her words drown him, a weight settling on his shoulders as he realized what had happened, and why Keith was suffering right now.

"Yes, Princess."

"Good boy. Now, focus your hearing and find them, the Paladin's vibrations should be enough for you to pinpoint their location, do not come back until you retrieved them both." Footsteps left towards the right, and the Princess' voice spoke again, filling him with incommensurable rage and disgust, his fists clenching with the need to squeeze the life out of her.

"Now, I should go back to the basement, this one needs a few adjustments." Her presence grew further and further away until she disappeared, and Lance slumped forward, depleted of energy but seething with fury, vision becoming blurry as he fought back tears.

God, this was all his fault. The potion had been meant for him, it was supposed to be him and not Keith, Keith had drinked his glass and saved his life, but....but the price he paid for it was too much.

The tears that fell down his cheeks rolled down Keith's own, and as Lance glanced inside his empty eyes, he found himself breaking, sobbing softly as he tried to think of what to do. He thought that bringing Keith along was the safest option for him, but if what the Princess had said was true and the dolls located them through vibrations and sound...then Lance was nothing but a huge red flag, a beacon for the flesh dolls to find him.

His very heartbeat was a loud siren attracting every single one of those vile things.

He had to go.

-Present time-

It was time to do what needed to be done. There was no two ways about it.

He needed to go, but he didn't dare leave Keith alone, just the mere thought was unbearable. His friend was vulnerable and defenceless, drugged to stay immobile and stone-like so the Princess could carve a doll out of him.

His throat burnt from the vile rising in it.

Is the flesh dolls really detected vibration and sound waves, then he had to hide Keith where there was a lot of noise, but the palace was but a tomb, still and lifeless, and the dolls wouldn't have trouble finding him since they didn't need to breathe.

The only existing sound right now was Lance.

He looked down at his best friend, eyes still empty and frozen, breaths and heartbeat so slow they seemed to court death, and he knew the dolls wouldn't find him as he was, if only he could find a place where he could pass unnoticed.

A gentle hum lit up a lightbulb inside his head, and he glanced at the door to the medical ward, remembering the whirring sounds the machines made, the beeps from the computers and the steady drip, drip, drip of several objects and fluid bags.

How he'd hid there before, and none of the dolls had found him.

He held his breath and ran as quick as he could, entering the empty room and searching for a good spot to hide Keith in. He found it on the far back at the end of the room, a big closet for storing supplies and medical tools that was mostly empty and dusty, looking like it hadn't been used in years.

Another piece to the puzzle that Lance couldn't yet understand.

He hurried to dig out boxes and sheets and cloth, took everything away and laid Keith inside on his back, taking his shield from both his armor's and his teammate's and putting them on his friend, creating a sort of force field that covered him like a small dome.

He leaned forward and looked at him through the shield, smiling sadly and wishing to see something, any expression on his face; anger, annoyance- even fear would have been welcomed as of now. But nothing showed, nothing moved, and Lance cried.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, this is all my fault. That drink was supposed to be mine, this shouldn't have happened to you. But I'm going to make things right, she said the effects would wear off at night, and there's only an hour left at best." He tried to smile, sure that it came out more as a grimace than anything.

"She said she didn't know what effects it would have on a Galra, but I hope they aren't too severe. Keith....if you can hear me, when you wake up, run away from here as fast as you can, there's something really wrong with these people. Ask for help, then come back, okay?" He took in a deep breath, gripping his bayard as hard as he could, his blaster manifesting as per his wishes.

"Don't worry about me, and don't do anything stupid, okay? I'll be fine. See....see you later." Lance took all the objets he'd taken out and covered Keith with them, making sure he was concealed on all sides before hiding him behind boxes and other things, trying for it to look as inconspicuous as possible. He then took a rolled quilt and put a white blanket around it, tying it to his middle to realize the illusion that he was still carrying Keith.

Afterwards, he closed the doors and left the room, running as fast as he could, never looking back.

The more he looked around as he ran, the more he realized things were really wrong here. There were machines like the one in the garden everywhere, and, when turned off, the small coat of dust atop the furniture turned to inches of soot and ash, the slightly cracked walls became collapsed rocks and broken stone, and the small rusting on the armors turned into melted metal, nothing but a puddle on the grass covered ground.

Nothing was real. Not the castle, neither the sounds or smells, and he was doubting if even all the people were fake. So far, he'd only found dolls, their stench speaking of rot and long lost life, strong and overpowering now that the devices had been destroyed by him.

He nearly hurled everytime one of the flesh dolls attacked him, but he'd managed to avoid them so far and escape everytime, so he counted it as a win.

They were gaining on him, though, and he still needed to stall, or, alternatively, go to the root of the problem and see if he could do something about it himself, in other words-

The Princess.

He had no doubt that she knew what was going on, and that she was aware of who the mastermind behind it all was. He needed to find what was going on and stop whatever she was doing- he didn't know how the dolls worked, or who was controlling them, but if he found the Princess, he was sure he would find out.

So he set out to just do that, running amok through the infinite hallways and corridors, looking for any kind of stairwell that led down, screaming in frustration when he found none. His legs hurt from running around so much, and his chest was on fire; he'd been scratched a few times and kicked a bit, too, and his ankle was giving him grief from a bad dodge he'd done some time ago.

He had no time, the dolls were relentless, and if he didn't find the basement soon, he was sure it would be the end of him, there wouldn't even be flowers to put on his grave here-

He gasped.

Flowers. The garden. The King's words.

'But we should continue our talk while we dine, if you do not mind a small walk through the gardens first. My daugther, Luktar, likes to wander around there, it's her favorite place, she loves the flowers and the stone fountain.'

It was a long shot, but he couldn't think of anything else. With aching legs and a renewed determination, he stealthily sought the desolate gardens from before, and, when he finally arrived, he peeked over the edge of the fountain, and saw a stairwell that went down, down into the abyss.

It was dark, and ominous and scary, but he was still going to go down.

Keith needed him, and if Lance could defeat the evil guy behind all this, then maybe they could escape sooner and contact their team without the threat of danger lurking behind every corner.

He threw the rolled quilt behind a pile of rocks, gripped his sword tight, and jumped down and into the stairs, walking down and trying not to wince at the dim lightning and the smell of stagnant water and mold, the cold giving him chills.

There was a steady dripping sound around him, and the walls and ceiling were covered in moss and dirt, the decay showing signs of being old- although just how old, he couldn't say, but he had the feeling it was a lot.

When he reached the end, a long hallway illuminated with torches awaited him, and he hugged the wall as he walked the length of it, breaths harsh and short, his panic a constant thrumming that wouldn't leave him be. The door a the end was slightly ajar and, without further ado, he walked right in, sword at the ready, since he didn't want to take any chances.

He jumped when the door closed behind him, and frantically looked around, the fear getting hold of his heart.

"Ara? If it isn't the Red paladin? My, I rarely have visits, so this is a surprise." The Princess appeared from behind a pillar, the lights growing a little brighter and letting him see the circular room they were in. "Isn't the Galra one with you? How unfortunate, I wanted to make him into a beautiful doll, but I guess you'll do until I can find him. How about you play with me?" The alien took out two swords from her dress, and threw herself at him with the ferocity only a warrior could have, making him back away in surprise.

"Wait! Princess, why are you doing this? Where are all the people? What are those dolls?" He blocked her every swipe, dodging her attacks and parrying her hits as best as he could, but she was good. She smiled, rows upon rows of teeth making him cringe.

"Wouldn't you like to know. Tell me where your friend is, and maybe I will tell you." Lance seethed, remembering a frail body in his arms, breaths feeble and ragged, a heartbeat that could barely be heard.

"Not on your life! I don't know what kind of twisted game you're playing, but those were the lives of your family! I know what you did to them! I saw! You hollowed them out and made dolls out of them! Have you no shame, no heart?" The Princess shrieked and roared, coming at him with even more strength than before, her swipes and slashes relentless, no more words leaving her lips besides grunts and screams of rage, her anger visible in her eyes.

She cornered him against the wall, and Lance managed to sidestep and hit her on the back, but she merely staggered before turning around and resuming her onslaught, her force never ceasing, her attacks never wavering in strength.

His arms began to hurt, and he knew he had to end this now.

He waited until her movements had become like a loop to him, until he memorized every pattern and variation, letting her close even when she managed to cut him and keeping her at a distance to see how she behaved when afar. When she stepped back and prepared to dive at him again, he knew she would swipe down before slashing with her other hand, and so, when the swipe came he crouched, turning his bayard into the blaster, and when the slash went for his head he tilted to the right, pointed his weapon upwards, and fired.

The squelching sound the body made as it hit the ground was disgusting, but Lance kept it together long enough to get his breaths under control, trying not to look at the blood on his hands for too long-

There was none.

The choked gasp that left his lips was cut off by a searing pain through his chest, and he looked down in time to see the tip of a sword sticking out of it, coated in red and slowly dripping to the floor. A malicious voice, shrouded with grief and anger and fire sounded from behind him, slowly mixing with a booming one that seemed to come from everywhere at the once.

"No shame? No heart? I did this because I loved them, you wouldn't understand." The sword was taken out and he screamed, his legs failing him as he dropped to the ground, trying to cover the wound with his hand.

Another hand gripped him by the back of his collar, dragging him forward, and through blurry vision, he saw the figure of the Princess, eyes blank and smile twisted, the hole on her head showing him nothing but an empty casket.

She was a doll too- but then- who-

He coughed, feeling the blood fall down his parted lips, the grip on his neck nearly choking him, his battered body still being dragged but this time up a flight of stairs and towards the center of the room. He was thrown unceremoniously on the cold floor, the voice echoing throughout the stance no longer the Princess', but a deeper, rougher one, one that sounded older.

He looked up from his crumpled position, and his eyes landed on a throne, in which an alien sat, clad in pink with pale beige hair up in a haphazardly made bun, their face wrinkled and mouth twisted into a smile that didn't reach their eyes. From their hands and body, from every part he could see, thousands upon millions of strings flew towards the ceiling, some tugging, some lax, some moving and swaying as they moved their hands like a conductor, like a-

A puppeteer.

"You do not understand, paladin, I did this out of love." They said, standing up from their chair and walking towards the Princess' doll, slowly caressing her face.

"When the Galra came, many, many eons ago, they took away everything that I loved, they killed my family, my friends, the villagers and the children and destroyed every single smidge of life they could find. Our dolls were no match for them, no matter how skilled we were." The alien tugged on a string, played a few of them like a harp, closed their eyes and hummed a tune, smiling as if they had seen something funny.

" When I came out of hiding, everyone was dying or dead, and I was left alone. It was lonely, so lonely, I didn't have anyone to keep me company, neither a way to contact anyone or leave, my home was going to be my grave, and I was sad, so sad."

"But then I found father, he was agonizing, asking for relief, but I thought- what if i sewed him up instead? His wounds would close, and he would surely be okay, right? But father didn't like that, he screamed and cried and then slept, leaving me all alone again." The alien let out a few tears, patting the Princess' dolls head like she was a puppy, and Lance struggled to keep his vision steady, everything was growing blurry.

"But we were good at making dolls- I was good too, I only needed practice, and soon I found a way to keep everyone safe, to have them by my side again, and I made dolls- so many dolls, everyone was okay again, and I wasn't lonely anymore." They let out a small giggle.

"This one's my favorite, you know? I was so cute when I was young- I see through her eyes, feel through her skin, talk through her mouth- she is me, and I am her. Wasn't I pretty? I know I was, and my world is pretty too, and colorful, and lovely. But nothing ever happens, and then you showed up and oh- you would make such pretty dolls, another friend to add to my collection!" Lance fought to understand what she was saying, but although he pieced together some parts of her story, his mind was becoming muddled fast, and he felt like he couldn't breathe.

"My father and the others will be so happy, you'll see. You and your friend will keep us company, won't you?" Lance gurgled, then spat the blood on the floor.

"W-what- we just c-came here to help-why are you- d-doing this..." The one that he now knew was the Princess blinked, her child-like eyes growing darker until not a shadow of her innocence was left, being replaced instead by a darkness that felt as deep as it felt scornful.

"Help? Help? Where was your Princess when the Galra tore my city apart and dismembered everyone!? When was she when they killed my baby brother and tore my sister's head from her body!? Where was she when the city was decimated and everything burst into flames?! " She gripped him by the hair, making him whimper, seething in anger, hands trembling as they tugged at him with force.

" Help? Help? You are five thousand years late to help!" She threw him to the ground, and he watched in a stupor, pained and wheezing, as a look of confusion crossed her features, her stance changing to a more refined, curled one, like she was trying to look smaller, younger...

"Ah help...some people came to help, once, but then they wanted to leave when they saw my dolls....I realized that, if I wanted people to never leave my side again, the best way was for them to become dolls too, then they wouldn't feel pain or get hungry or anything! And we could all be happy together!" She giggled again, and Lance finally understood the state she was in, trapped in a past long gone, the madness of an abandoned lonely child, her fantasy of a happy home surrounded by her loved ones, made into puppets by her own hands, speaking the words she wanted to hear, inhabiting a replica of the body she once possessed.

A fake world moved by the strings she controlled. Denying reality, a pitiful fate.

It was heartbreaking- it was horrible.

"It will hurt a little, at first, but do not worry, the poison my blade has will take care to destroy your insides so I can empty you clean." Lance startled, shaking in both fear and pain, feeling the burn that was slowly traveling from his feet and up, now reaching his stomach. The Princess kneeled down and brushed her hands against his cheek, he could do nothing to bat her away.

"You will be so pretty, I just know so, we can be best friends, I'll even make sure to color your skin so you don't end up grey like the others." She laughed again, childish, soft. Evil without malice was terrifying, she was nothing but a kid inside her own mind, and her innocence, twisted by death and solitude, had turned her into a monster that had no salvation.

A searing pain in his chest made Lance curl into a ball, his hands clenching his neck, eyes wide as he fought for breath, the fire in his gut becoming an inferno, unbearable, agonizing. He couldn't breath through the intense sting that seemed to run through his bloodstream, and his vision was all but gone now, making his panic escalate, the world around him nothing but darkness.

The ground was cold, and it seemed to seep into his bones, making him shiver and tremble. He was so cold...but the pain was a furnace inside his chest, he couldn't breathe.

He didn't want to die here, didn't want to become one of the flesh dolls, eternally manipulated by a manic mad child. But he could do nothing about it. He just prayed that Keith had somehow gotten away and ran back home for help, that the effects of the potion hadn't hurt him anymore, he hoped that...he..was....okay...

He closed his eyes, and his hands fell, boneless, to the ground. The noises around him were distorted and faint, and he was pretty sure he stopped breathing at some point, but he was sure he heard a voice he recognized, and that there were the sounds of fighting and metal clashing; screams of anger and words that didn't register on Lance's mind.

And then, everything became still.

He thought he'd finally died, but then something touched him, carefully, slowly, arms sneaked around his back and legs and cradled him against something soft and warm, and another thing, cold and small, began slowly dripping down his cheeks, one at the time.

A hand brushed his hair away from his forehead, and another patted his cheek, he thought he heard a call of his name said in desperation, and struggled to open his eyes and see, although even his lashes hurt -just like every part of his body- but he fought the pain, and the burn, and eventually managed to squint to the shadow above.

He saw purple; purple eyes, purple skin, purple ears....a scar on the right cheek and black hair in a hideous mullet- it was definitely his best friend, although more colorful than normal.

He was okay, he was okay. He was alive and- and fine. Mostly.

Lance could have cried, if he'd had the energy to do so. But it seemed Keith was already doing it for him, small droplets of salt water dripping down his cheeks and chin, falling on Lance's own and his nose, making him shiver. His head lolled to the side.

Besides his friend, there lay the mangled body of the Princess, and through the hole on her chest, metal and wood peeked out, and he understood; she'd turned herself into a doll, too, to survive for such a long time. All around, the strings that had connected to her were lax, some of then completely broken or severed, shrouding the place in a deathly silence that gave him goosebumps.

He couldn't feel them, neither his body. Just the pain.

"Lance, Lance! Say something, please! God, you idiot, why did you come here? You should have just left me and look for help!" He saw Keith's hand go to his chest, but Lance couldn't feel it. "Shit- it won't stop bleeding, god, there's so much blood, you need- I need to get you home-" Home...yeah, that sounded good, that sounded great...

"Hey! Hey, no! Don't you dare close your eyes you hear me!?" Keith stood up, jostling him slightly, and Lance saw stars and felt his insides churn and melt, like he'd swallowed lava. "Shit, sorry, sorry! Don't sleep okay? I'm running back home, I'm gonna get you help, but you need to stay awake!" He thought he nodded, but he couldn't be sure. His eyes were failing again, and more often that not, blood would make him choke on his own breaths, and he would cough it up and drench both himself and Keith in it.

On one such time, he couldn't seem to regain his breathing or stop the blood from clogging his throat, and, to the sound of Keith's panicked fading voice, he felt the world dissolve and turn to dust, and his consciousness alongside it.

A whirring sound woke him up, back against something soft, warmth tucking him in and arms around his middle, holding him close to a warm chest, heartbeat like a lullaby that threatened to get him back to sleep. The arms tightened on his back, cuddling him closer, and Lance sighed in happiness, feeling safe and comfortable, his chest no longer hurting and his breathing no longer a struggle.

"Mmmh..." Someone sighed by his side, and Lance felt hair tickling his nose, making him sniff and whine, burrowing his head even closer to the softness holding him. He thought he heard a snap, then a clicking sound, and his mind became slighty more awake, automatically opening his eyes and glaring in the direction of the sound, an automated response.

"Awwww, look at them Hunk! I need to take like a thousand photos of this, they're going to be soooo embarrassed when they see this-" Even though everything was fuzzy and blurry, Lance recognized Pidge's and Hunk's forms, and knew he was back home at the Atlas, inside a healing bed. Looking to the side he could see that it was Keith holding him, with purple splotches on his skin that were rapidly fading away, looking content and relaxed as he lay besides him.

Lance continued to glare in Pidge's general direction. "Uh...I highly doubt that, Pidge. And you might want to- you know, hide your camera before Lance smashes it to bits." He saw Pidge turn and groan, hiding something on her back, but Lance just snorted and snuggled more against Keith, all the while maintaining eye contact, willing to make her either uncomfortable with watching, or so flabbergasted she left.

"Shame is not a word in my vocabulary, Pidgeon, you should know that. Besides, Keith is, like, my brother slash best friend, and I used to cuddle a lot with my brothers and sisters and Hunk back home, so this really doesnt matter to me." He heard Hunk give testimony to that, remembering their times at the Garrison. "I'm used to cuddle piles, and I greatly enjoy it, so if you don't mind, I'm going to get back to that." Pidge groaned and Hunk cooed.

"Aww, that's so cute. Keith was really worried about you, you know? Wouldn't even go into another bed, said he had to make sure you were okay. He was pretty out of it, saying he had to keep you safe, that it was his turn. In the end we let him because he wouldn't rest otherwise, he was all purple too, Allura nearly had a heart attack." Lance chuckled, imagining the face the Princess did when she saw Keith, then saw Pidge snap more photos and shooed hear away.

" Vaish, vaish, go away Pidge, I don't care how many photos you take -they might even tempt people to join the coalition, seeing how cute and cuddly we are- but, you're going to wake up Keith at this rate, and then he'll be all grumpy, so, shoo." Pidge laughed at him, but eventually listened to his demands, Hunk following after her as soon as he'd squeezed Lance within an inch of his life, gifting him with one of his brightest smiles.

He waited until he saw sure they were completely gone before he turned to Keith.

"Sooo....how long did you plan on feigning sleep?" No answer. Keith didn't move, didn't even twitch. Lance smirked. " I know you're awake, Keith, you can't fool me, c'mon." Still nothing, Lance's smirk widened and he chuckled darkly. "Well, if that's how you want t play." Lance plastered himself to Keith's chest, sneaking his hands around his waist before going up, up, up until he reached his back, then he burrowed them under his armpits and began to tickle.

For a tick, nothing happened. Then one of his eyebrows twitched, his mouth tilted slightly up, he scrunched his nose and small high pitched noises left his sealed lips. Lance tickled with even more force, among his siblings, he was feared for his skills, nobody could win against him, his fingers moved with dexterity and purpose, striking the weak points.

A small gasp. And then Keith burst out laughing.

"Ahahaha- s-stop, aha-hahaha, L-Lance!" He listened to him, smiling at the giggles coming from his friend and the small tremors raking his body, tears on the corner of his eyes.

"So, how long were you planing on faking sleep?" Keith sighed and frowned a bit, looking sheepish and hesitant.

"Until Pidge left and you woke up and followed, or until there was no one here." From this close, it looked like Keith's cheeks were tinted pink, and Lance rose an eyebrow, wondering.

"Was it because of the camera? Are you...embarrased?" Keith shook his head.

"It's just...when I came back from Karakuri with you, there was this...voice in my head, it told me to stay by your side, keep you safe and stuff. Even though we were back home and no one would hurt you here, the need to stay wouldn't leave. I remember refusing to go on a healing bed unless it was with you, and the others....well, they tried to convince me, but it didn't work. In the end they stuffed both of us together and called it a day." Lance laughed, smiling softly at his friend.

"So, you were embarrassed." Keith pouted, averting his gaze as his cheeks became even more red.

"....A bit." Lance understood his uneasiness, to some extent, but he really didn't have anything to be ashamed of, he was who he was, and there was nothing wrong with him.

"I'm sure that was just your Galra side acting up there. Instincts are very strong on Galra, and they are protective of their family aren't they? It's a good thing." Keith still looked doubtful, but eventually nodded his head, wiggling around under the blankets.

"Thanks, Lance, for....for saving my life, and for what you did back there." He jolted, remembering the events with a tightness on his stomach that filled him with dread.

"It's nothing, you would have done the same for me, yeah? Besides, I told Pidge already, you're like a brother to me, so of course I wouldn't abandon my family." Keith's eyes widened, and he bit his lip, eyes looking anywhere but at him.

"Do you....do you really mean that?" Lance laughed again, squeezing the life out of his friend while he answered.

"Of course I do, idiot. I mean, we argue about every little thing- but in a good natured way, and we always make up when we really fight, we annoy each other but got the other's back always, we've lived together for years, shared a room, a bed, food, a shower; we've been chastised by Shiro and allura, worked together to prank both of them- then took the brunt of their fury like a team- Yeah, we're pretty much brothers already, dude." Keith smiled again, and his arms finally squeezed Lance back, chuckles leaving his lips as Lance tried to rub his cold feet on Keith's ankles to annoy him.

"That's...nice, besides Shiro, I never had a brother, and it'll be cool to have...." Keith smirked, and Lance stared at him in confusion."...a younger brother." Lance screamed, outraged, his hands going to ruffle the other's hair, fighting to get on top of him. "C'mon Lance, I'm three years older, there's nothing you can do about that!" Lance continued his onslaught, shrieking like he'd been wronged, trying all his tickle tactics while he refuted the other's statements.

"That's not true! you're only one year older than me!"

"I'm not! I spent two years on the back of a space whale in an interdimensional rift, remember?!"

"Those don't count! It was just a few weeks for us! That time didn't pass for us!"

"But it did for me! So I'm three years older, deal with it, little brother!"

They continued bickering and wrestling inside the bed, tickling and fighting as they both laughed and made a mess of things, a feat that Allura would surely yell at them for later. Unbeknownst to them, from behind the slightly ajar door, Pidge continued to snap photos with her camera, and stored them in the folder titled 'Family pictures', a soft smile lighting up her features as she walked away.

The last thing she heard as she left, was the echo of Keith's voice asking a question and Lance's laugh following after, happy and bright and lively.

"Hey Lance, does this count as another bonding moment?"

#october writting challenge #promptober #lance mcclain #keith kogane #platonic klance #they are best friends #gen #genfic #VLD #vld fanfiction #vld fanfic #vld fic #lance pov #violence #horror #spoopy #my fics #friendship

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arielsojourner · 7 years ago

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Skywalker Family Values

Think Parent Trap mixed with Addams Family put in a blender with Star Wars, the Original Trilogy. I know I just posted part 4 but part 5 just CAME to me. Not sure when Part 6 may come. Again, warning, this is a very ROUGH draft.

Part 1 and 2 (along with the prompt that woke up my muse in the first place) are HERE.

Part 3 is HERE.

Part 4 is HERE

Part 5 begins . . .

/// Dear Father,

I hope you got my last message. I haven’t heard back from you yet. I hope you’re not still mad about what happened at the end of school. I didn’t mean for things to get that out of hand. Really.

Nevermind, if you are too busy to comm, just stay safe. But could you just send me the things on my supply list? If you can’t send them all, just the first 5 things on the list would be a big help. Or you could just come and get me and bring the things yourself. We could do the plan together. The plan really needs 2 people. Please? I really need to see you and ///

Scowling, Luke erased the entire message and tossed his datapad aside. He couldn’t send that to his father! He needed to handle this himself! He wasn’t a baby. He was 11 years old!

He started to pace back and forth, trying to think what to do, but he was just so angry. He had a deep seated urge to raze all the buildings to the ground and lay waste to his fellow campers and the camp directors. It would serve them right if he did it! Once the care package from the Executor arrived he would show them. He’d show all of them that he was really his father’s son!

Especially the Princess.

Luke stopped in his tracks and took several deep breaths. No, he told himself. He needed to be calm. He needed to remember that just because people said horrible things or were mean and thoughtless didn’t mean he had the right to teach them a bloody and violent lesson in manners. Just because they whipped defenseless creatures, murdered innocents for sport, caged mothers and babies, and enslaved sentient races didn’t mean they deserved to die horrible painful deaths, begging for mercy, screaming that they were sorry for being horrible, cruel, thoughtless, bigoted, evil–

He needed a project, Luke thought to himself suddenly. That would take his mind off things. He just needed something to distract himself with until he could think about things calmly and rationally. That was what Obi-Wan would suggest and he always gave good advice.

He wished Obi-Wan was here.

He wished his father was here.

He could go work on the scanner, that needed some work. Luke hadn’t been able to meet up with Han and Chewie last night because of his fellow campers, but he could work on it now. Working on the scanner would be productive and calming.

Mind made up, Luke double checked that Artoo was still charging comfortably and started hunting for his spare boots. He had just found them when the comm system blared to life.

“Hello, campers! Just a friendly reminder from your helpful camp counselors Gary and Becky Granger that those interested in participating in today’s sport hunting activity should start getting ready for our 1100 hour departure time. The hunter with the most confirmed kills will be specially honored at tonight’s dinner dance event. Those campers who wish to remain onsite can participate in jewelry making, swimming, and archery. Riding lessons will resume next week when new animals are delivered so until then, please enjoy using the canoes and other watercraft during your leisure time. We hope you all have a wonderful day here at Camp Chippewa, the Empire’s foremost summer camp for privileged young adults!”

Then again, Luke thought with a growing sense of righteous anger as he shoved on his boots, sometimes being calm and rational was overrated. Sometimes all you needed to do was to take action, and damn the consequences.

Digging into his suitcase for his favorite tools, Luke headed out to perform some sabotage.

“They’re sentient beings and you have them in cages! Cages! Those are mothers and children in there! You’ve been committing murder!”

“Princess, I think you’re confused,” Becky Granger said with a smarmy smile as she tried to lead her out of the stables. “Yes, they look like cute little pets, but they are just animals and they can be dangerous. We don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Besides, you really shouldn’t even be here, your Highness. This is hardly the place for a young woman of your background,” Captain Greg Granger added even as he looked around with sharp eyes. He was sure that Erso was somewhere nearby but he couldn’t find her. He’d only found Princess Leia and her droid when he’d gotten word of another disturbance around the barn and stables the day after the incident with the fathiers.

“It’s a mistake, the Senate got it wrong!” Leia argued. “I just had a conversation with several of the Ewoks. My droid translated their speech. You need to let them go right now.”

“Your Highness, I–“

“Gary, is that smoke?” Mrs. Granger said suddenly, cutting her husband off, pointing in the distance.

“Smoke?” he echoed and then turned. “What in the ‘verse?”

A guard came running into the paddock. “Sir, the speeders and the bikes, they’ve been destroyed.”

“Destroyed? Are we under attack?” Captain Granger demanded.

“Lock the camp down. We must protect our campers,” Mrs. Granger said with breathless worry. “Oh, Gary, we have to makes sure everyone is safe and happy.”

“It looks more like sabotage, sir,” the guard offered.

“I guess that means no more hunting trips,” Leia said with a pleased smile. “Good, that gives us time to fix this horrible mistake. I’m going to comm my father right now and he will look into this immediately.”

The Grangers shared a look and then rounded on the Princess. “I’m sensing something friction here. I think you’re not quite embracing the Chippewa spirit, Your Highness,” Captain Granger said with a slightly deranged smile. “Not to worry though. All you need is good friends, good fun, and a little time in the Happiness Hut.”

Luke kept his head high as he was “escorted” to the tiny cabin surrounded by a picket fence and flowers by Captain Granger and a cadre of armed guards. He was pushed through the door with a chirpy “have fun” and the door was locked behind him.

Prepared for the worst, Luke stepped inside a room decorated in pastels and propaganda posters of Imperial might. It was like a Imperial Navy recruiting center had been decorated for an audience of kindergartners. A massive picture of the Emperor on his throne surrounded by smiling happy children and genuflecting adults dominated one wall.

It was enough to make a person want to gouge their eyes out.

A holoscreen was on, piping out a cheery tune as animated human children sang songs about how amazing the Empire was. Sitting on the couch in front of the holoscreen, two throw pillows pressed against her ears and her eyes tightly closed was Princess Leia Organa.

Great, not only was he stuck in this torture chamber but he was stuck inside with the privileged stuck up two faced prig from Alderaan. Rolling his eyes, Luke fished out his multitool which the guards had stupidly failed to take from him when they’d caught him at the scene of his crime. He used it to pop open the back of the holoscreen and shut the entire system off. The Happiness Hut was plunged into blessed silence.

Leia carefully cracked open one eye and then another and gently lowered the pillows from the side of her head.

Luke stood there next to the silent holoscreen and scowled at her.

Blushing under his gaze, Leia set the pillows aside and tried to straighten her mussed hair. “Thank you,” she said in an overly polite tone.

Luke rolled his eyes and grabbing one of the chairs, dragged it over to a window, as far away as he could from the Princess. He then proceeded to sit down and ignore her.

Leia huffed, embarrassed and upset. How dare he just ignore her when she had been polite! Well, two could play that game. She was going to ignore him right back! She sat back into the couch, crossing her arms over her chest. In silence her eyes wandered over the paintings and posters covering the walls, proclaiming cheerful slogans of Imperial xenophobic might. She wished she had her datapad with her but at least the holoscreen was off.

She shook herself suddenly, realizing she’d closed her eyes and nearly dozed off. Sitting up a bit straighter she looked over at the boy in the chair. He hadn’t moved from his seat by the window. There was no chrono in the room so no way to know how much time she’d spent trapped inside nor any idea how long they’d both be stuck together.

Fed up with sitting, Leia stood and came over to look outside the window. Luke continued to ignore her. This far away from the main camp, it was hard to tell what was going on.

“What’s happened?”

“They’ve ordered the repair and clean up of all the speeders and bikes so they can resume their fun in the forest,” Luke said tersely.

“It’s barbaric!” Leia hissed. “I talked to the Ewoks in the barn. They’re sentient and terrified. This is mass murder. We have to do something about it.”

“We?” Luke asked with one arched brow. “I’m already doing something about it. Chewie and Han and Ghosh and the other “help” at the camp have been doing something about it. Don’t you worry about it. People of your quality and breeding can just continue to be outraged while you enjoy your camp experience. No need for you to take action. You leave it to us nothings.”

Leia wanted to snap back at him for that. But those had been her words. He was only reminding her of what she’d said. Taking a deep breath she fought down her anger and tried to respond calmly.

“I can help. I can plan and organize the campers to protest this. If I can get to a long range comm unit, I can comm the Senate offices for Alderaan and fix this.”

“The Grangers aren’t going to let you near a long range comm and all other messages are read and censored before they are sent on for long range transmission home. Everything shipped in and out of this place is searched. You’d need some sort of prearranged back door slice through a point to point encrypting source to get around that and unless Threepio is built with something I don’t know about, you don’t have that. Besides,” Luke said sitting back in his chair. “The Senate is utterly useless, don’t kid yourself. It was useless under the Republic and it is even more useless now. If you really want to save lives Princess, protest is just going to keep you locked up in here, and stop us from saving the Ewoks.”

Leia wanted to argue as a matter of principal but struggled to think of how. Luke had good points. It was so infuriating. Strangely enough he reminded her of her mother (her real mother), and her efficiently ruthless planning of the Rebellion against the Empire. Leia knew from long experience that arguing didn’t get her anywhere with her mother and it wasn’t likely to get her anywhere with Luke. It was time to concede and maybe, just maybe, apologize.

She hated doing both, especially when the other side was right. But she wanted to be a Rebel, the best Rebel there was, and the best Rebel there was would help regardless of their pride.

“I still want to help. If you have some sort of plan in the works, I want to be a part of it. I want to help the Ewoks. Just . . . tell me what to do.”

Luke finally turned to look at her. The black eye on his face had darkened and his soot stained hair was a disheveled mess. He said nothing. He just stared at her, waiting.

“And,” she continued feeling a burning knot of shame inside. “I’m . . . sorry for what I said to you. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

“But you still believe them,” Luke said evenly. “You still believe I don’t have a family.”

Leia opened and closed her mouth in frustration. Anything she said now would either be a lie or start another argument. She thought back to her lessons with Auntie Breha and Uncle Bail. What would they say?

“I don’t know,” she finally said. “I don’t know you or Lord Vader enough to say. I just said things that were rumors, that other people were saying. I said them because I was angry but that didn’t make them right or necessarily true.”

Luke tilted his head to the side, considering and then sighed. “All right, you can help.”

“Good, what’s the first step?”

Luke pointed out the window. “There will be a signal when the Grangers are on their way back to let us out so I can turn the holoscreen back on. When they get here we pretend that we’re pacified.”

“And then?” Leia asked eagerly. She had hoped to spend the summer with her mother on a Rebel base. She hadn’t expected summer camp to give her the opportunity to fight against the Empire. “How are we going to free the Ewoks and stop the campers from killing or kidnapping anymore?”

“I’m waiting on a few things at mail call, but even if they don’t come, we’ve got a back up plan. Threepio could be a big help, though. I’ve been looking for some way to communicate with the Ewoks.”

That was not the level of planning detail she wanted to hear but she tried to be patient. “Threepio will help too, but what about me? What do I get to do?”

Luke thought for a long moment and then a devious light lit his blue eyes. “You can play nice. You can pretend to be reformed. You can kiss up to A’Man’Daa and her friends and Mrs. Granger. You can be our spy on the inside and help cover for us and distract them as we get everything ready. With me busting up the speeders and bikes, they aren’t going to trust me at all anymore, not that they ever really did. But you, you can be just like one of them and fool them all.”

“A spy,” Leia breathed in excitement. Now that was more like it. “With a code name and secret code phrases and everything so I know who’s on our side.”

“Exactly,” Luke said with a growing smile. “Can you do it, Agent– er . . . Agent Sand?”

“Agent Sand?” Leia said in disgust. “What kind of a name is Agent Sand?”

“Sand is coarse, and rough, and irritating, and gets everywhere. It’s the perfect name for a spy and the perfect name for you,” Luke insisted cheerfully.

“It’s a horrible name! I refuse to be called Agent Sand!”

“Too late, its done,” he said standing up and walking over to the holoscreen. “You’re our spy, Agent Sand. No take backs.”

“Why you-you scruffy looking, laser brained–“

“That’s good, that’s exactly how you have to talk to me when you’re spying,” Luke praised her.

“–slime ridden–“

“Don’t peak too soon, Agent Sand.”

“Nerf herder!” And with that she swooped up a pillow and smacked it into Luke’s face.

#skywalker family values #star wars au #luke skywalker #princess leia

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memyselfandwe00001 · 7 years ago

Text

Say it with Flowers (1/?) ~by memyselfandwe09

~Beta’d by the brilliant @tenroseforeverandever ~Artwork by Mudheart7567

Fandom: Doctor Who *but it’s an AU, so it can be read by whomever*

Rating: M

Ship(s): Twelve x Rose, Jack x Ianto

Characters: Twelfth Doctor (Human), Rose Tyler, Ianto Jones, Bill Potts, Jack Harkness, Wilfred “Wilf” Mott, Donna Noble, Jackie Tyler

~~Based on the prompt; Person A owns a flower shop and person B comes storming in one day, slaps twenty bucks on the counter and says “How do I passive aggressively say ‘fuck you’ in a flower?”~~

Summary: Rose Tyler had just moved into her new London flat. It was everything she ever wanted, with one major drawback; the madman living upstairs. Can she put up with his antics as he endlessly torments her, or will she be forced to move.

Tags: Flower shop AU, Humor, Neighbors, Eventual romance, Slow burn, Enemies to Lovers, Older man/Younger woman, my first Twelve x Rose fic, I was tricked into this, I tried giving the prompt away but it was given back to me.

AO3 / FF

Chap 1 / Chap 2

A cascade of ice-cold water washed over Rose Tyler’s head, interrupting what was supposed to be a serene morning of drinking tea on her new patio.

Leaping to her feet, she shrieked and looked up to see where the water was coming from. An arrangement of plants and flowers hung down from the balcony above, dripping from recently being watered.

“Hello,” she called out, trying to keep her voice pleasant despite her growing irritation. When nobody came she yelled out louder, “Hey!”

A man came strutting out, bracing his hands on the banister as he peered down with angry eyebrows. “What is it?” he bit out irritably in a thick Scottish accent. He paused to take in her appearance as she shivered from the cold. “You know, you shouldn’t be standing out there all wet.”

“I wasn’t wet a minute ago,” she hollered. “I was sitting out here having my tea when you decided to surprise me with an arctic shower.”

“Well you shouldn’t be sitting right under where I do my morning watering, now should you?!”

Rose stared at him perplexed. “How the hell should I know your watering schedule? Besides, this is my patio and I would appreciate it if you would refrain from doing that over my head.”

“Oh!” His eyebrows raised as his voice turned condescending, “Well I’m sorry, princess, I didn’t know I had bloody royalty living below me.”

“Wait. What?” Rose stammered, unsure how to respond.

“Look, these plants,” he indicated the plants hanging above her, “are up here on my balcony. I can’t help it if they might drip a little. Do you come out and yell at the fuckin’ clouds every time it rains too?”

“Of course not,” she uttered in surprise at the audacity he had, turning this around on her.

He pointed toward her door. “Why don’t you go dry off, and drink your tea inside like the rest of us peasants?” With that, he turned away and went back inside, slamming his door shut in the process.

Rose could only stand there, staring at his empty balcony in shock. She thought once she’d left the Estate she’d be done dealing with people so incredibly rude and inconsiderate. Apparently she was wrong. This man living above her made some of her more boorish neighbors in the past seem gracious.

A cool breeze blew through, causing her to shiver again, and she headed back inside. She peeled off her sopping wet clothes, cursing under her breath as she made her way toward the bedroom.

After putting on some dry clothes, she headed back to the living room and decided to put this morning’s fiasco behind her for now. This was only her second day in her new flat and she had a lot of unpacking to do.

Her mum had told her she was being pretentious and didn’t think she needed two bedrooms, but Rose didn’t see it that way. She was making more than enough for rent and after all her hard work, why shouldn’t she reward herself?

Honestly, there had been very little her mum could have said to talk her out of it. The minute she stepped inside, she had known she wanted to live here. The flat featured a bright open kitchen and living area, with breakfast nook and hardwood floors. The master bedroom was very spacious as well, complete with an impressive en-suite.

Then there was the patio. Being on the first floor meant Rose had a private outdoor space all her own. Of all the amenities this flat had to offer, this feature excited her the most.

The flat was everything she could have dreamed of, with only one drawback: the madman she had just learned was living upstairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soon after the water fiasco came the clippings that littered her patio whenever he trimmed his plants. The first time she’d let it slide, hoping it was a simple mistake, but the second time it happened. she went up to his flat and approached him about it. That interaction had gone worse than the first one, much louder too, and ending with a door being slammed in her face.

It was basically a downward spiral for the next month after that, but of all the irritating habits her upstairs neighbor subjected her to, nothing bothered her more than the one she was experiencing now: his pacing. Not just normal pacing, but quick, inconsistent footsteps erupting from the ceiling above her.

She did her best to ignore it, she really did, but after lying in bed listening to it for over an hour, the pacing only became more erratic. Looking at the time, she saw it was reaching midnight. She needed to get some sleep, so she did what they always did in the Estate when they had a similar problem; she grabbed a broom and rapped the ceiling at the source of the pacing.

His response came in a series of loud stomps of his foot in the same spot. Seconds later the pacing resumed. Rose waited a moment then pounded again, much more aggressively than before because she wanted him to know she wasn’t going to put up with this. The pacing stopped, and for a moment she thought it had worked. Then she heard the heavy footsteps racing to his balcony.

“Will you stop that incessant banging,” he cried out from above, “I’m trying to think!”

Rose grumbled and stepped out onto her patio and fired back, “Can’t you think a little quieter?”

“Of course I can, but if I do, I won’t be able to hear my thoughts!”

Rose screwed up her face in confusion. “What?”

Grumbling something about whiny kids, he stomped back inside, and the pacing continued. At least it did for about five more minutes, then he came back out and bellowed down to her. “Well, now I lost it! I hope you’re happy!”

Rose rolled over in her bed, mumbling to herself, “I am, actually.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few short hours later, her alarm clock started blaring, and it took every bit of willpower she had to drag herself out of bed. Once she was up, her first stop was the kitchen where she started a kettle, then proceeded to get ready for work

She made her tea and had a seat, fighting exhaustion. It only took a few sips before she realized, if she was going to get through the day, she would need something much stronger than tea.

There was a coffee shop not too far from her flat, making it a very convenient stop for Rose on mornings such as these. It was owned by Donna Noble, a feisty, quick-witted redhead Rose greatly admired.

The front of the shop was often attended to by Donna’s grandfather, Wilf. She never asked Wilf to work for her, he simply insisted by doing it anyway. He wanted to help his granddaughter out anyway he could, and he was glad to be out of the house and away from his daughter, Sylvia’s, nagging.

He soon became a house favorite, with an unusual talent for memorizing the names and drink orders of all their regular customers. Another valuable aspect Donna gained by letting her grandfather work for her were his scones. He had a family recipe even his daughter didn’t know for some of the most delectable scones anyone had ever tasted.

Rose entered the shop, thankful she’d missed the busy, morning rush and greeted Wilf as she approached the counter.

“Good morning, Rose. Caramel latte for you?”

“Please,” Rose smiled and removed her sunglasses, revealing her tired eyes. “I barely slept a wink last night.”

“Neighbor problems again?” Wilf asked as he rung up her order. This wasn’t the first morning she’d come in feeling exhausted from a long night of dealing with her neighbor.

“When is it not?” She rolled her eyes as she handed him the money then stepped aside to wait for her order.

The chime from the front door sounded and she turned, scowling when she caught sight of her heinous neighbor entering the shop. He seemed to be far more rested than she was. She glared at him as he approached and couldn’t stop herself from commenting, “I didn’t get any sleep last night because of you and your endless pacing.”

“And I lost my train of thought because of you,” he retaliated, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Before you moved in, nobody else complained about my thought process.”

“Because everyone else is afraid to approach you,” Rose pointed out. “Why can’t you be like normal people and play music or something while you think?”

“Why can’t you invest in a pair of earplugs, then we could both be happy?”

Rose gaped at him in shock and felt a storm of vulgarities brewing on her tongue when Wilf touched her arm, snapping her from her vile thoughts. He looked at her pleadingly, silently begging her not to cause a scene. “Here you are Miss Tyler. Don’t let Mr. McGregor’s insolence ruin your day.”

“Thank you, Wilf.” She smiled politely as she took her drink from his hand, then turned back to her neighbor with fury in her eyes. “We’ll talk about this later, Mr. McGregor,” she warned him.

He rolled back on his heels and grinned cheekily. “I can’t wait, Miss Tyler.”

His elation had her seeing red, and as much as she wanted to let him have it, she really needed to get to work. Cursing under her breath she made a quick exit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Aiden, why must you be so mean to her,” Wilf asked once Rose was out of sight.

Aiden feigned insult. “Mean to her? I simply came in here for a cuppa and she began attacking me.”

Wilf shook his head dismissively and resumed taking Aiden’s order.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later, as Rose lay in bed, she heard a strange sound, like something heavy being moved around above her, followed by a scraping noise. She was trying to figure out what that wanker was up to, when a loud buzz pierced her ears, followed by the unmistakable screech of an electric guitar.

Rose leapt out of bed. What the hell?

The ear-piercing wailing continued, filling her flat with the unpleasant noise. She grabbed her dressing gown, put on her slippers, and headed upstairs. It was oddly quiet outside and she didn’t hear the guitar again until she approached his door. She wondered, not for the first time, if the noise bothered anyone else and they were just too afraid to confront him. He was insanely rude to everyone, but she wasn’t about to let him intimidate her too.

She banged on the door loudly until the music stopped, then his heavy footsteps could be heard approaching as he barked out, “What is it now, Miss Tyler?”

The door flung open to reveal him in a pair of denims, a dark t-shirt, and a long black coat. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling self-aware as she stood there in her dressing gown. “How did you know it was me?”

“Lucky guess,” he quipped.

She pointed at the guitar he had slung over his shoulder. “Mr. McGregor, do you have any idea how late it is?”

“You suggested that I play music,” he remarked. “Now you’re complaining about that too?”

“I meant soft music, like on the radio,” she argued. “I didn’t mean for you to go out, buy a guitar, and go all Keith Richards on me.”

“Actually, I didn’t go out and buy it.” He looked down as he cradled the guitar in his hands. “I’ve had it locked away for far too long. I haven’t thought of playing it much until you mentioned it. Thank you.”

“Listen,” Rose pleaded, “it’s nearly midnight and I-.” Her words were cut off as the door closed in her face.

Seconds later the wailing resumed. Rose began pounding on his door again, but her efforts were hopeless.

“Arsehole,” she screamed at the door, giving it a final kick that should have provided her with some level of satisfaction. But, with only thin slippers covering her feet, all it actually gave her was a painful stubbed toe. She limped back down and entered her flat, hearing the continuous wailing resonating from above. She wondered how much worse it could get as she climbed into bed and yanked a pillow over her head and prayed for sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rose wearily dragged her feet about the restaurant kitchen on an unusually busy Wednesday afternoon.

She worked at Torchwood, an up-and-coming London hotspot with all the attributes of a sophisticated restaurant, but with a more relaxed atmosphere and a budget friendly menu.

It was owned by Ianto Jones, a young entrepreneur whom Rose had met while in culinary school. He was a natural in the kitchen with a highly refined palate and a talent for creating remarkable dishes. Being from a wealthy family, he always carried himself with a sort of self-importance, a trait that Rose initially found off-putting, but soon realized was just a product of his upbringing and not how he saw himself.

He was the one who had befriended Rose in the beginning. After being singled out for not only his social status, but also his sexual orientation, he appreciated having a friend like Rose who treated him as an equal.

Together, they were an unlikely pair: a well-off kid who had every luxury growing up, and an estate girl who had had to work harder than anyone to get where she was. Yet they were inexplicably similar in nearly every other way.

After they had finished school, they went their separate ways, he to get his new restaurant underway while Rose took the long path. Over a few years, Rose had worked her way up and continued learning more about her craft as Ianto had gone through his own hardships of making his dream a reality through failed attempts.

Five years later, he’d finally found his stride and once he was fully established he’d tracked down his old friend and proposed she work with him in his restaurant.

At first, she was hesitant, worried that working for her friend could be catastrophic, but then dismissed those thoughts considering he’d always treated her with more respect than she was often used to. Ianto had offered her a very generous salary, and the desire to leave her current job and nightmarish boss also made the idea of working for him very appealing.

That had been nearly a year ago, and today the restaurant was still highly successful, even more so than when she’d first come on board

She was carefully putting the final touches on a couple of dishes before they went out when an enormous yawn escaped her.

“Looks like someone was out late last night,” Ianto jested as he slid into her station.

Rose scowled and nudged him back to give her some space. “I didn’t sleep well s’ all; no reason to make assumptions.”

“Moody too,” he sassed while adjusting his suit jacket. “How come you couldn’t sleep?”

“Because of that tosser living up above me,” Rose growled.

Ianto smirked, “And what did Mr. McGrump do this time?”

Rose chuckled at Ianto’s play on her neighbor’s name. “He decided the middle of the night was a great time to play a two-hour guitar solo. Then when I went up there to tell him to cut it out, he slammed the door in my face. I honestly don’t know how much longer I can put up with him.”

“Do you need me to handle it?” Ianto playfully cracked his knuckles.

“No,” Rose laughed, “I’ve dealt with much worse growing up on the Estate. I just need to go about this differently.”

“Well, the offer still stands.” Ianto danced his fingers along her work station as he left her to prepare for the dinner crowd.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Rose arrived home that evening, she spotted something taped to her door. She eyed it curiously as she approached and found it to be a pair of earplugs. She yanked them off the door mumbling, “Seriously!” and entered her flat.

She only had two things on her mind at that moment: a shower and sleep. After washing the day’s grime off, she slipped on a comfortable set of pyjamas and crawled into bed. Her mattress had never felt so heavenly as she curled under the blankets ready to drift off to sleep.

As if he knew she had just climbed into bed, the wail of his guitar started up again. Rose rubbed her tired eyes and groaned before slipping out of bed. She looked around for her notepad and a pen before she walked out and headed upstairs.

First, she knocked, although she knew he wasn’t going to answer. Once she was certain he was ignoring her, she began writing out her note:

_- Mr. McGregor, __ Although you may find your guitar practice soothing, it’s keeping the rest of us awake. I’m not sure what it is you do, but I have a job to go to every day. Please consider this next time you decide to pollute the air with your racket. The world doesn’t revolve around you.

_She didn’t bother signing it; there was no doubt he would know who it was from. She stuck the note to the door and headed back downstairs to try and sleep. As she walked to her bedroom, she stopped and grabbed the earplugs. She figured it couldn’t hurt to try for one night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She wouldn’t admit that the earplugs helped at all and told herself it was exhaustion that ultimately brought her to sleep that night. Whatever it was, Rose finally felt refreshed when she woke up the next morning.

She puttered about her flat for a bit, knowing she didn’t have to be at work for a few hours. Like every other morning, she headed to the kitchen to start a kettle, frowning when the range wouldn’t start. She tried several more times, but nothing happened.

After taking a few deep breaths to keep from screaming, she grabbed her phone to call her landlord and request it get looked at. After such a good night’s sleep, she refused to let something so trivial ruin her day. Instead, she decided to make the best of it and take a walk to the coffee shop and get one of Wilf’s scones while she was there.

The coffee shop was slightly more crowded than usual, but like the issue with her range, she refused to let it bother her and waited patiently.

The line crept along slowly and when she approached the counter Wilf greeted her kindly. “Good morning, Rose. The usual?”

Rose nodded. “And can I get a scone too?”

Wilf frowned. “Sorry love, we’re all out. We still have plenty of danishes.”

“Ok,” Rose sighed, “I really had my heart set on one of your scones this morning.”

Wilf rang up her order and as he took her money he glanced over her shoulder uncomfortably. Rose wasn’t sure what that look was about and turned to see her neighbor sitting there, drinking his coffee. On a plate in front of him was a scone.

Rose turned back to Wilf, wide eyed. “Please don’t tell me he got the last scone.”

“Sorry Rose, you know it’s first come, first served,” Wilf explained, handing over her change.

Rose noticed the unease in his eyes and gently touched his hand. “I know Wilf, I’m not angry at you.” But she was angry. It felt as if the universe was against her and her morning’s efforts of trying to remain calm escaped her the moment she saw her neighbor’s face.

When her order was ready, Rose took her items and headed for the door, but couldn’t keep herself from stopping at his table. “First you make it impossible for me to relax on my own patio, next you leave your plant clippings for me to clean up, then you keep me up most nights with your endless racket, and now…,” she pointed down at the scone, “now this?”

He looked down at the table before him. “Am I at your table? You can join me if you’d like.”

“Not the table,” Rose snapped. “The last scone. It’s like you’re doing this to me on purpose?”

Aiden pinched the bridge of his nose and mumbled under his breath before addressing her. “Yes Miss Tyler, I walked all the way here and bought out every last scone just in hopes that you would come in and want to buy one. All to ruin your day.”

“Honestly, I don’t know anymore,” Rose fought to keep her voice level so as not to draw any attention. “With everything else you’ve been doing to make my life miserable, maybe you did.”

His eyes lit up. “Oh, so suddenly the whole world revolves around you?”

Rose’s jaw dropped. He was using her own words against her. Now she was livid. “Are you seriously…”

Aiden leapt to his feet. “Don’t bother!” He stood over her. “I’m tired of hearing it over and over again. It’s exhausting. Why don’t you give it a rest?” He bent down to pick up his scone, and a sly grin spread across his face as he eyed three flowers sitting in a vase on the table. With his opposite hand he reached out and picked the red one. “Next time, if you’re going to say it,” he held the flower up to her, “say it with flowers.”

Speechless, Rose plucked the flower from his fingers.

Looking her directly in the eye, he took a large bite from his scone, chewing it delightedly. “Delicious!” He winked insolently before stepping around her to exit the shop, leaving Rose stunned... as always.

#doctor who au #rose x twelve #doctor who fanfiction #slow burn #doctor who fic

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raisindeatre · 7 years ago

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the dream we dream together here (Zutara Week 2017: Soulmates)

*shows up late with Starbucks* Anyway, this is my very late submission for ZK Week 2017, under the Day 6 ‘Soulmates’ prompt (namely: the idea that you see your soulmate as a ghost after s/he dies, which is… admittedly just a very flimsy excuse for me to write my two favourite things: snow and angst, but oh well)

A hundred years from now, dear heart, We shall not mind the pain; The throbbing crimson tide of life Will not have left a stain. The song we sing together, dear, The dream we dream together here, Will mean no more than means a tear Amid a summer rain.

- John Bennett, In a Rose Garden

A List of Things You Learn Growing Up in the South Pole

1. Things disappear.

Amongst the glaciers, transience is a concept everyone learns from childhood. Nothing ever stays. Snowflakes melt the moment you tip your face up to them, there and gone in a blink as they catch on your eyelashes. You wake up one morning to find half the village’s meat supplies gone, dragged by wolves into the tundra sometime in the night. Every year when the worst of the blizzards hit, there are always people who go missing, caught in the storm and unable to find their way home, their cries indistinguishable from the screaming of the winds outside the heavy folds of the tents.

Things disappear. Mothers are alive one moment, and gone the next. Fathers kiss you goodbye and vanish over the waves, bringing all the men of the village with him as they sail into war.

You dumb-dumb, Sokka says to her once when she is six years old, when he jumps triumphantly out at her from where she is hiding, giggling, behind the alcove where the Southern Water Tribe stores their firewood. That’s gotta be the easiest game of Hide-and-Seek anyone’s ever played. You gotta learn to hide your footprints, Katara. I followed them all the way here.

She sticks her tongue out at him. I hate snow! If we didn’t live in the South Pole, you wouldn’t have been able to find me.

Maybe, Sokka says. But I like it. I like seeing where people go, or where they come from. I like that people know where I am. He jumps away from her, sending a spray of snow in the air, his boots leaving a perfect imprint in the white. It’s like a stamp, see? I am here!

Yeah, I guess snow isn’t so bad, Katara says. If we didn’t live here, I couldn’t do this.

Sokka turns just in time for the snowball to hit him in the face.

(2. How to run from your brother.)

Later, they walk home, Sokka keeping a firm grip on his sister’s hand as dusk begins to fall, as the Southern Water Tribe begin to light their lanterns. Katara looks over her shoulder behind them to see the trail of their footprints already vanishing under the falling snow.

I am here, Sokka had declared, a wild and defiant clarion call. I am here! But Katara looks at her footprints which are already beginning to fill in, and thinks instead, I am disappearing.

3. Things reappear.

But the sea never takes without giving back. Amongst the glaciers, return is also a concept everyone learns from childhood. Driftwood you hurl into the ocean one summer washes up on the black shores the next. Star-flowers survive the ice and the hail to push their weary heads out into the weak sunlight every spring.

The Avatar, a hundred years later, turns up in an iceberg.

And three months after his funeral, Katara wakes up one night to see Zuko sitting on her bed.

A Question: who does she love?

An Answer: the boy in the snow, of course.

Another Question: which one? There were two she first met amongst the ice.

“Zuko?” she says, almost gasps, as she bolts upright in her bed, blinking the sleep from her eyes. Taking shape amongst the familiar shadows of her tent, he looks for a moment like the South Pole personified: his pale skin the shade of every snowfall, his hair as black as any of the rocks rising out of the sea. Only his eyes ruin the illusion: they are the colour of amber as they blink at her, and oh, the joy that rises up in her chest at the sight of them is, for a second, indistinguishable from pain.

Old habits die hard. For so long the first emotion that had roared to life inside her at the sight of him was anger, and Katara almost embraces the fury that sparks to life in her veins.

“You idiot!” Katara snaps at him, and Zuko’s eyes widen. “What were you thinking, taking that lightning bolt for me – I’m so mad at you – “

He smiles at her, faintly. “When are you ever not?” Zuko says, and she almost closes her eyes at the sound of his voice.

Almost. “You idiot,” Katara says, and reaches out to – to hit him, or maybe to hug him, with all the strength that she has –

But her hand passes right through him like he is made of nothing more than mist, and when Zuko looks at her, Katara can see the disappointment in his gaze, but no surprise.

Okay, Katara thinks. Okay.

Anybody else might think they were going crazy. But Katara has held Aang in her arms in the midst of the Avatar state, his eyes glowing white, a god’s incredible, terrible power trapped in the slight figure of a boy. She has seen a princess disappear before her very eyes, vanishing into the sky as Sokka’s face clouded over with loss. She has lost her brother to the Spirit World once, when the angry spirit Hei Bai had whisked him away in its rage. She has visited an impossible library, hurtled down its corridors as she’d fled from the owl guardian’s fury.

Throughout the war, Katara has learned one thing: nothing is impossible when it comes to the spirits, and the way they blur the borders between the two worlds. She might have watched Zuko’s casket being lowered into the ground three months earlier, but he is here now, right in front of her, and that has to mean something, doesn’t it? Aang is the Avatar. Surely there can be some way for him to go into the Spirit World and bring Zuko back. Nothing is impossible, not anymore.

Everything will be okay when Aang sees him. Everything is going to be okay.

“Come with me!” Katara says, and Zuko might be the prince here, but he follows her orders as if doing so comes as naturally as breathing. Katara bursts out of her tent and runs across to Sokka’s, ripping the canvas folds open. Aang and Sokka look up at her blearily from their respective sleeping rolls.

“Katara? What is it?” Aang says in alarm, as he struggles to sit up.

“Zuko –“ Katara says. “He –“

Grief flickers over both their features. Sokka closes his eyes for a beat.

“I know,” her brother says. “Katara, I know, I have nightmares too –“

“What’s wrong with the two of you?” Katara says, gesturing to where Zuko is standing beside her, looking so solid against the ice. “Can’t you see –“ She breaks off, anger and desperation rising up in her throat. “Can’t you see –“

“See what?” Aang says, so gently –

And when Katara turns to look at Zuko – invisible Zuko, impossible Zuko – she sees that behind them in the snow, there is only one set of footprints: hers, which are already disappearing.

A Question: What is the difference between a spirit and a ghost?

An Answer: What does it really matter, in the end?

“Calm down, Katara,” she says to herself when she is back in her tent, having turned on her heel and ignoring Aang and Sokka’s confused flurry of questions. “It’s okay, breathe –“

“Maybe you need some calming tea,” Zuko suggests, from where he is standing by the foot of her bed.

“I don’t need any calming tea!” she snaps at him, and the expression on his face when she says that: amused, and also a little tender – makes something in her throat ache. She runs a hand down her face, takes a deep breath.

“If you were a spirit, Aang would’ve been able to see you,” she says. “I know he would. So what does that mean?”

Zuko doesn’t say anything; only watches her silently.

“I’m not crazy,” she says, and by now they are standing so close that if this had been any other world, one where Zuko had survived his sister, she would be able to feel the warmth of his body. But it is in this world they are in, and the only heart beating in this vicinity is her own. “Zuko, I’m not crazy.”

“I know,” he says softly, all smart remarks forgotten.

“You’re dead.”

A strange expression flickers across his face, a little sad. “I know that too.”

“Then what are you doing here? Why am I the only one who can see you?”

He has no answer for that, and so all he can do is look at her helplessly. Outside, the wind howls across the frozen tundra, and Katara could swear that it is the sound of pure loss.

“You have always been the only one to really see me,” he says to her later, his voice so soft from the corner of her tent he is sitting in. “Why should this be any different?”

Katara closes her eyes from where she is curled up on her bed, huddled under the blankets. “Please don’t say anything more.”

“Katara?”

“I don’t believe in ghosts, Zuko,” she tells him tiredly.

“Why not?”

The answer to this is because if they were real, my mother would have found me by now. The answer to this is because if they were real, why is it only me you’re haunting?

But Katara just shakes her head. She takes in a deep, shuddering breath. “Please,” she says. “Please just leave me alone.”

“I can’t,” he whispers back to her. “I don’t know how to.”

She doesn’t say anything to that, and Zuko studies her for a moment, his eyes dark honey in the flickering lamplight. “If you don’t believe in ghosts, what do you think I am?” he says at last.

For a long, long moment, Katara doesn’t say anything. She closes her eyes and turns her back on him, as if by doing so she can banish him, this vision of Zuko that has crept out of whatever dark crevice in her heart she’s pushed him into, whatever grave he’s been buried in. But when after heartbeats upon heartbeats later she turns and opens her eyes again, he’s still there, looking so real against the dark canvas.

“A dream, maybe,” she says hoarsely. “A hallucination.”

Zuko says, slow and distant, as if almost to himself, “An echo.”

Katara knows all about echoes; knows the hundreds and thousands of ways the South Pole can capture and crystallise and reflect moments in the past. When they were younger, she and Sokka had explored the vast white plains, stumbling into caves, peering over the snow-edged chasms of ravines; their young voices shouting into the depths, Hello! and hearing a thousand ghostly replies back: hello, hello, hello.

On bad nights when the blizzards howl around her tent, she thinks she can hear in its icy scream her own cries from almost a decade ago, trapped forever in the snow: Dad! I think Mum’s in trouble! On bad nights, Katara thinks that living in the South Pole means never escaping the past, an endless loop of your own voice reflected back at you in the cold winds that roll off the waves.

An echo.

“The last thing I ever did,” Zuko says reflectively, “the last thing I ever did in my life was reach for you.” And when he says that Katara flashes back to the palace, fires raging all around her – and Zuko, jerking and shuddering from Azula’s lightning bolt but still struggling to push himself up, still stretching out his hand towards her. “Maybe that’s why I’m here. Maybe I’m still reaching.”

“Then stop,” she says. “Stop reaching.”

Zuko smiles at her then, sadly. “Even if I did, Katara,” he says. “I’d still be here.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he says. “You’re reaching too.”

When Katara goes to sleep that night, she dreams of falling down an endless ravine, of desperately trying to hold on to fingers that always just slip through her own.

4. Always ask your gran-gran.

Amongst the glaciers, there is one truth everybody holds on to: when in doubt, ask your gran-gran. When all the men have gone off to fight, it is the women of the village who become its heart and backbone. It is the women who grimly haul broken bones back into line, who pick up spears to hunt, who tilt their heads back and read the signs in the sky. It is the women you go to when you have questions that need answering. Ask your gran-gran. (Amongst the glaciers, everybody has at least one).

Old habits die hard. It is Kanna that Katara has gone to time and time again over the years: on the fifth anniversary of her mother’s death, all the the cold nights when Hakoda’s ship did not appear on the horizon, the time she got her first moon-blood. It is Kanna that she goes to now.

“Gran-Gran,” Katara says the next morning as she sits down cross-legged in her tent. Zuko hovers unobtrusively by the entrance, as if anybody other than Katara can really see him. “What do you know about ghosts?”

The look her grandmother gives her is so, so sad, but not at all surprised, as if she knew all along that Katara was going to come and ask her this question one day. She looks out at the endless horizon, the flat gray sea just barely visible through the flaps of the tent. She looks, for a moment, older than Katara can ever remember her being. “Katara, my love,” she says. “Are you alright?”

“Please,” Katara says. “Just tell me.”

Kanna doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then:

“It is a strange place, the South Pole,” she says. “So far removed from everything else, all alone. Some people say it sits at the very edge of the world.” She passes a tired hand over her face. “They are wrong, of course. The South Pole sits at the very edge of the worlds; Katara, both of them. Here, there are places where everything is thinner: the air, the ice, and above all the veil that separates our world from the next.”

“And so?”

“And so.” Kanna sighs. “There have always been people here gifted with the sight. Spiritwalkers, we call them. Ghostseers. They see the people who have not yet crossed over, or the people who have crossed back. Which category they belong to doesn’t really matter, after all. The dead are always the dead.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Zuko flinches, and maybe it is because of that Katara’s next words are sharper than she’d intended. “But I’m not one of them,” she says. “I’m not. A ghostseer, or a spiritwalker, or whatever you want to call them. I don’t see the dead, or a horde of ghosts or anything –“

“Just one specific ghost,” Kanna says, and Katara closes her eyes, shame washing over her. It’s not my mother, she wants to say, the guilt rising up in her throat. It’s not your daughter, Gran-Gran, and I don’t know why – if I had to see a ghost, it should’ve been her, I don’t know why it’s him instead – and the worst part is that if I had to choose between the two of them, I don’t know who I would’ve rather been haunted by – they both died for me, and I couldn’t save either of them –

“What does it mean?” she says instead. “If it’s just one ghost, Gran-Gran, please, what does it mean? How can I get rid of –“ Her voice catches, and Zuko looks up at her.

“I do not know, Katara,” Kanna says. “But I imagine…” She trails off, and then sighs. “I think perhaps there might be unfinished business between the two of you. Resolve it. Only then can the two of you move on.”

“Right,” Katara says, addressing Zuko as they face each other in her tent. “Unfinished business. Okay, yeah. I think I know what it is.”

“That makes one of us,” Zuko says.

“Shut up,” Katara says automatically, and the way he arches his good eyebrow back at her is so familiar, muscle memory, an old dance she longs to slip into. She doesn’t. Instead she clears her throat and says, in what she imagines to be a magnanimous tone, “Zuko, I want you to know that I forgive you.”

This should be the moment where he disappears into nothingness, putting this whole hallucination to an end. Instead the affront that flickers over his face is anything but ghostly.

“You what?” he says.

“I forgive you,” Katara repeats, and Zuko looks at her incredulously.

“You forgive me?” he echoes. “For what? Right, yeah, I’m sorry I saved your life, Katara, I should’ve known that was something I had to apologise for –“

“Fine!” Katara shouts back at him, and some distant part of her recognizes that she should keep her voice down, but this is a storm that has been months and months in the breaking. “Then I apologize! I’m sorry!” she says, and her voice breaks a little, her chest catching as Zuko stares at her.

I’m sorry, Katara thinks desperately, I’m sorry that I didn’t do anything when Azula looked at me. I’m sorry I didn’t run, or fight back. I’m sorry that all I did was stand there and watch you jump. I’m sorry I volunteered to go with you. I’m sorry that all I ever was to you was a death sentence, I’m sorry I led you to your grave, I’m sorry –

She doesn’t say any of this out loud, but Zuko – Zuko is a ghost now, or an echo, or a memory – she doesn’t know, does she, but whatever he is, it renders speech between them unnecessary.

“Katara,” he says, reaching out to cup her cheek gently, but his hand passes right through her, and it’s ridiculous that this is the thing that sets her off, but it is. Touch has always been the one honest thing between them – even when they could trust nothing else about each other, their bodies have always spoken the truth. A palm on a scar, a hand reaching out to pull the other on a bison, arms flung around a neck. Depriving them of this is the cruellest thing Katara can imagine, and she lets the tears slide down her cheeks soundlessly as he tries, again and again, to wipe them away.

“Katara,” he says at last. “Katara, don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry. I don’t regret it; I will never regret what I did for you. That isn’t why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here?” Katara asks him again, and again his face registers nothing but uncertainty. And how can I make you leave? is the unspoken question between them, because just looking at Zuko hurts in a way Katara can’t quite articulate, can’t even begin to understand.

Has it only been months since the Agni Kai? It feels like a lifetime.

“I don’t know,” Zuko says helplessly. “I don’t know.”

Stop reaching, Katara tells herself. Stop reaching, but when she opens her eyes Zuko is still there.

“Maybe it’s not me you have unfinished business with,” Katara says to him later. “Maybe it’s Uncle Iroh. Or Sokka, or Aang. Have you tried going to them?”

“Of course I have,” he replies. “You greatly overestimate how interesting it is being in your head.”

“Hey, now.”

He tilts a tired smile at her. “Of course I’ve tried,” he says, quieter. “But I can’t. Sokka and Aang can’t even see me, and every time I try to go to my uncle I end up back here. I can’t leave. Wherever I try to go, whichever path I take, it leads me right back to you.”

“Not to me,” Katara says, trying to ignore the way her heart has jumped at his words, because she isn’t allowed to feel like this anymore, she isn’t allowed to look at a dead boy and think, maybe – “The South Pole. You heard what my gran-gran said, this place is like some kind of magnet for spirits or something. It’s nothing to do with me.”

“Maybe,” Zuko says. “Or maybe not.”

He sighs, and Katara watches the place where his breath should cloud out into the icy air. (There is nothing there, of course.) “Even when I was still…” he says, trailing off, and Katara knows what he means to say is alive. “Even back then,” Zuko starts over, “every path led me to you. Again and again and again. It’s just the same thing, I guess. It shouldn’t come as a surprise now.”

“You were tracking Aang,” Katara says. “Every path led you to him.”

“It wasn’t Aang,” Zuko says quietly, “that I met in the caverns beneath Ba Sing Se.”

And Katara closes her eyes, as if doing so will make what Zuko says next – what she knows Zuko will say next – less painful. It doesn’t, of course.

“It’s you, Katara,” he says. “It’s always been you.”

“Do you ever think about what would happen if things had been different?” Katara asks.

“Sometimes,” Zuko replies.

“What do you mean?” Aang says.

“I mean…” Katara says. “I mean, what if Zuko hadn’t died that day at the Agni Kai?”

Sokka shakes his head when she says that, grief and anger warring in his blue eyes. “Katara, don’t.”

“I’m just saying,” she says, but he interrupts.

“What’s the point in wondering?” he says sharply. “He did. It’s over. There’s no point thinking anything else.”

Aang looks at Sokka reproachfully, the way he does anyone he thinks is hurting Katara. “Maybe it would do us good to talk about it,” he says, but Sokka brushes them off, getting to his feet.

“Then be my guest,” he says. “I’m out of here.”

Zuko closes his eyes as Sokka walks right through him, and for a moment Katara wants to take the words back, call after her brother. Sokka is right, after all. Zuko is dead. Nothing any of them can do will change that.

But instead she turns back to Aang and says, “So what do you think would’ve happened? Do you think Zuko would’ve been here with us? The four of us at the South Pole – that sounds great, right?”

“Right,” Aang says uncertainly, as if he’s unsure now if this was a good idea or not, but Zuko looks right at Katara and says, “No.”

Katara has to fight to keep her eyes on Aang’s face, but Zuko pushes on.

“If I’d lived,” he says, the sound of his voice low and inexorable like the crashing of the sea in the distance, “I would never have come to the South Pole, Katara. I would’ve stayed in the Fire Nation and assumed the throne. I would’ve become Fire Lord. I would’ve married someone there.”

“Stop it,” Katara hisses, and Aang looks at her in confusion, but Zuko continues talking.

“Maybe,” he says. “Maybe this is why I’m here. Because this is the only way I can be here. Any other way – if I’d lived – I wouldn’t have been able to be here with you –“

“But you’re not,” Katara says, the word almost a wail, and the despair that opens up in her stomach like a chasm feels black and never-ending. “You’re not here, you’re not even real –“ She buries her face in her hands, shaking, and Aang steps forward to hug her –

But Sokka is there first; Sokka, who turned back for her like he always has, like he always will, and it is in her brother’s arms that Katara collapses for the first time since this all of this happened. Aang rubs comforting circles on her back as Zuko stands by and watches them, grief written all over his face, and Katara thinks to herself – to him – I miss you, she thinks, but you’re just in my head. You aren’t anything, anymore.

He doesn’t deny any of it. “Don’t cry,” is all he says, helplessly, as if that has ever stopped anyone from weeping.

Stop reaching. Stop reaching.

But Katara doesn’t know how to.

The nightmares get worse, and she begins to lose her appetite. Slowly Katara begins to withdraw from the rest of the village, because it’s easier to be alone – not that she’s ever really alone, not anymore – than it is to have to face the fact that nobody else can see Zuko, that no one else can hear his dry voice. It’s less confusing than having to navigate the awkward situations that arise with Aang or Sokka when she responds to something they haven’t said, when her eyes slide past them to where Zuko, invisible, is watching her.

It’s easier to disappear into the tundra for hours at a time, to sit with Zuko on the bluffs and watch the ocean churning below.

“Katara,” he says, almost sighs from where he is stretched out on the snow beside her, gazing up into the sky. “Katara, Katara.” He turns his head to look at her with his good eye. “It sounds like the wind, a little bit. Like it’s saying your name.”

“Oh?” she says tiredly.

“Don’t you think?” he says, as the plains around them sing with the sound of her name, calling her home. Katara, Katara. And Katara knows that for the rest of her life, it will be Zuko’s voice she will hear every time the arctic wind whispers across the ice. The idea is enough to make her want to curl up in the snow and sleep forever, to walk into the ocean and never stop walking, to reach out for Zuko’s hand and never let go.

“I do now,” she says, and they don’t say anything more after that.

Whatever you have to do, Kanna had told her that day in the tent, make sure you do it soon, Katara. The living weren’t meant to mix with the dead. They have to fade, or we run the risk of fading with them.

And there are times when Katara thinks her grandmother is right. Sleepless nights, pushing around the noodles in her bowl, uneaten. Days when she is viscerally surprised at the fact that she casts a shadow in the arctic sun, so used to the absence of Zuko’s own. A moment when she realizes that the first thing she does upon waking is look for Zuko, her eyes searching the tent for a dead boy’s face.

Stop reaching, Katara.

But she doesn’t. How can she? She stretched out a hand towards him in the green light beneath Ba Sing Se, and she’s never really withdrawn it since. Across oceans he has followed her, over mountains and canyons and a million forests, South Pole to Earth Kingdom to Fire Nation, palace to palace.

And now, somehow, she has to let go.

“You should sleep,” Zuko tells her one night, as the katabatic winds howl around them. Even with what feels like a hundred furs piled on top of her, Katara can still feel the cold.

“I can’t.”

“Have you been having nightmares again?” he asks, and Katara has to close her eyes at that. Again. He doesn’t know, does he, that they’ve never really stopped, not since he died. Instead she says, “Yes. Do you want to hear a bedtime story?”

Zuko smiles faintly. “Go on then.”

“Once upon a time,” Katara says, “a brother and a sister found the Avatar – who’d been missing for a hundred years – in an iceberg.”

“I think I’ve heard this one before,” Zuko says.

“It’s a pretty famous story. The brother and the sister who saved the world. The Wolf of the South and the most beautiful girl in the South Pole.”

“Huh,” Zuko says. “Not a very hard job. I heard she was the only girl in the South Pole.”

“And so,” Katara says, ignoring him, “they took the Avatar and his sky bison back to their village, and for a while things were good. But then who should come sailing in but a Fire Nation warship.”

“Of course.”

“Heading the ship was the prince of the Fire Nation and his uncle. And this prince, this villain, this evil jerkbender –“

“I get it.”

“He comes marching in and says, Give me the Avatar! I need to capture him to restore my honour!”

Zuko huffs. “I don’t sound like that.”

And when Katara looks at him, all the teasing in her falls away, because the look of affront on his face is so real, so familiar, and yes – yes, Katara thinks, she can see how the way she feels about him can transcend memories, can transcend even death. The way she feels about him – how could some part of Zuko not remain here, not be pulled back from wherever the dead go?

“Well,” Zuko says. “This doesn’t sound like it’s shaping up to be a good story.”

Katara, Katara, the gales sing outside, as the storm continues to rage. If she was to leave her tent now, she knows all she would see is endless white. If she was to leave her tent now, she would never be able to find her way back.

Katara pulls the blankets up to her chin, curls away from him. “Yeah, well. You should hear the ending.”

This is what she dreams about, again and always:

Falling into a chasm, the wind screaming past her as she tumbles into the black, all the fear and panic crushed into her throat so she cannot even cry out. And a hand, pale in the darkness as it stretches out to her, as she tries again and again, to grab on to it.

Stop reaching, Katara.

But if I stop, she thinks, I’ll die.

But there are times when she wakes up and sees Zuko watching her, half a smile on his face – here and not here, her impossible boy – and thinks that this might just be eating her alive anyway.

When the snowball hits her in the face, the first thing Katara registers is surprise. The next is fury.

“What in the Spirits’ name do you think you’re doing?” she yells at Sokka. Her brother is standing a few feet away, his shoulders squared, his jaw set – but despite all the determination in his stance, his blue eyes when he looks at her are filled with anxiety; worry that Katara knows she has helped to place in the lines of his face.

“We are going,” he says slowly, “to have a snowball fight.”

“What?” Katara says, as Aang nods solemnly at her from where he is standing beside Sokka.

“We are going to have a snowball fight,” Sokka repeats.

Katara turns away, to where Zuko is watching them. “I don’t want to –“

“You’re not eating!” Sokka cries out. “You’re not eating, and you’re not sleeping, and you’re not listening to anything anyone says anymore, like you’re not even here, and half the time you really aren’t here, you’re off in the tundra somewhere and –“

Katara swallows. “Stop it.”

“I miss him too,” Sokka says, taking a step towards her. “I miss him every day. We all do. You don’t have a monopoly on this grief, Katara. And we are going to have a snowball fight, right here, right now, because if Zuko was here this is what he would want.”

“No, it isn’t!” Zuko and Katara say in unison.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Sokka says. “Prince High-and-Mighty probably wouldn’t be caught dead in the South Pole.”

“Too cold,” Aang jumps in.

“And if he ever did come, we’d probably have to assign someone to keep an eye on him at all times,” Sokka says. “We’d lose him otherwise. After all, the guy could practically camouflage in snow, right?”

“How can you say that?” Aang mimics, just as Zuko says those exact words, and Katara – she doesn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.

“Maybe this is why I’m here,” Zuko huffs. “To stop you from being alone with these two morons. I feel like that’s a good enough reason to come back from the dead.”

Sokka and Aang are still watching her, and their eyes are suspiciously bright, but there is hope in their expressions too, a kind of plea. Come back to us, Katara. Katara, Katara.

“If he was here,” Sokka says softly, “he would want us to live.”

Is that true? Katara thinks, and all the mock-affront on Zuko’s face vanishes, to be replaced with disbelief, a terrible surprise.

“Do you really believe otherwise?” he says, his voice so hoarse. “I jumped in front of a lightning bolt for you, Katara, and you really have to ask me that?”

Katara swallows, nods. “Okay,” she says. “Okay.”

Relief sweeps across Sokka’s face then, in a way that reminds Katara of the waves breaking against the rocks: bleak and breathless. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Katara says, and throws a snowball right in his face.

(2. How to run from your brother.)

The battle is furious and deadly, snowballs flying through the air as they run and duck and jump, as triumphant shouts rise up to the sky, as they slip and tumble and skid on the ice. And with every victorious war cry, every footprint stamped on the snow, Katara remembers what Sokka had said, so long ago. I am here. The war has taken everything else from her, but it has not taken this. I am here!

“You cheater!” Katara yells at Sokka, when she sees that he has already prepared a whole pile of snowballs, ready to launch missile after missile at her.

“Non-bender privileges!” he shouts back, and Aang explodes from the snowbank beside them to shower them in white, roaring like a polar bear, and Katara cannot remember the last time she has laughed so hard.

There is a moment, though, when she glances around and sees Zuko looking at them, and the terrible sadness on his face stops her in her tracks. He looks down at himself as a snowball goes right through his stomach, and then another through his leg, and looks back up at them with such an expression of longing that it almost brings Katara to her knees.

Sooner or later, they are going to have to fix this, to stop reaching, to let go, because Katara sees now that she is not the only one being eaten alive. Sokka barrels right through him, shouting a battle cry as he hurls snowballs in quick succession at Aang, and Katara sees Zuko close his eyes.

They are here, but Zuko is disappearing.

Are we ghosts to you? she thinks. Are you haunting me? Am I haunting you?

“Yes,” Zuko says, his voice so quiet amongst the din. “Yes.”

The days after Zuko’s funeral and before she’d boarded the ship that would take her back home are a dark blur, but what she does remember is spending hours and hours in the Fire Nation Library, alone there in the dark and quiet.

There had been a poem in one of the Fire Nation scrolls she’d read again and again, peering over the parchment in the flickering light of the candles. Even now, four months and a thousand miles later, Katara can remember every word.

A hundred years from now, dear heart, she thinks, we shall not mind the pain.

“I remember that poem,” Zuko says. “It used to be one of my favourites.” He stretches out from where he is lying on the hides next to her sleeping roll, looking up at the roof of her tent, his smoky voice dropping to a whisper. “The throbbing crimson tide of life, Will not have left a stain.”

The song we sing together, dear, Katara thinks dully, the dream we dream together here –

“Will mean no more than means a tear,” Zuko finishes, “Amid a summer rain.” He props himself up on one elbow to look at her, his beautiful eyes so clear in the lamplight.

A hundred years from now, Katara thinks. A hundred years.

“Aang,” she says to him. “You’re pretty old, aren’t you?”

“Wow. Good morning to you too, Katara.”

She doesn’t laugh, but she does tilt a tired smile towards him. “Sorry. I was just wondering. I mean, technically you’re a hundred and twelve years old, right?”

Aang studies her for a moment, his eyes as gray as the sea churning behind them as they walk on the shores together. “Yeah. I guess.”

“So how…” Katara says, and looks away from him. Zuko is sitting on a nearby rock, watching them, but she forces herself to ignore him and look instead at the never-ending sky before her, the forever horizon. She takes a deep breath. “How do you do it? How do you keep on going?”

Aang doesn’t say anything, and Katara squeezes her eyes shut so she does not have to witness the pain she is about to inflict. “Everyone you’ve ever lost. Gyatso. The Air Nomads. How do you not let it crush you?”

When she looks at him again, she almost wants to take everything back, to erase the terrible grief that’s spread across his young (old) face. Aang looks at the ocean for a long while, his throat working.

“You want to know,” he says at last, “how I’ve moved on? I haven’t.” He runs a tired hand down his face. “You can’t move on from the past, Katara. All you can do is move ahead.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I, to be honest,” Aang admits softly. “I just… You have to have faith in the future before you. You have to believe that what lies ahead is greater than the loss behind.”

Katara doesn’t look at him when she says, “What if I can’t?”

Aang rests a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You miss him. And you will miss him every day for the rest of your life. But it will not be forever, Katara. I believe we will see him again, one day.”

Seeing him isn’t the problem, Katara thinks, and Zuko smiles mirthlessly at her.

“It will get better,” Aang says.

“How do you know, though?” Katara says at last, letting all her rage and despair into her voice. “How do you know it will get better? Maybe you’re better-equipped for this life, Aang, because you’re the Avatar, did you ever think of that? You’re going to live forever, in a way, so maybe loss doesn’t mean anything to you, but I only have one life –“

And I have already endured enough loss for a million of them, is what she doesn’t say. How can one life withstand so much grief?

“Don’t tell me it’s going to get better if you don’t believe it,” she says finally. “Don’t lie to me. I am sick and tired of people lying to me! I am sick of you lying to me.”

“Katara!” Aang protests, but Katara is looking directly at Zuko, who is rising to his feet. Somewhere she is dimly aware of Aang stumbling over his words, saying, “I’m sorry I lied to you when we first met Bato – I didn’t want you and Sokka to leave me, I’m sorry –“ But she keeps her eyes steadily on Zuko, who looks back at her with indignation.

“When?” he demands. “When did I ever lie to you?”

I can take Azula this time, she thinks emotionlessly. And this way no one else has to get hurt.

“Oh,” Zuko says. “Oh.”

And one night the nightmare changes: one night, she dreams she is back at the Agni Kai, blue and white and yellow flares lighting up the blackness as Zuko and his sister do battle, but this time when Azula turns to look at her it is Yon Rha’s face she is wearing, and suddenly they are in the middle of a blizzard, the arctic gales screaming around her with the voice of her mother, Katara, Katara, and Zuko jumps –

And Katara wakes up screaming too, her hands scrabbling over the blankets, her chest so tight it feels like she might die, then and there, her lungs gasping for breath. She is sweat-soaked and shaking, and Zuko is kneeling before her, trying desperately to hold on to her shoulders, to touch her face, saying, “Katara, it’s alright – it was only a dream, I’m here –“

“No,” she says, her tongue still thick from sleep. “No, you’re not –“

“It’s okay,” Zuko says, “everything’s okay –“

“It’s not okay!” she shouts, and Zuko flinches back, moves to say something, but Katara doesn’t let him. “It’s not okay, and you’re not here, you aren’t ever going to be here again, and I could’ve lived with that, I think I could have, if only you would let me.”

“Katara,” he whispers, brokenly, but Katara shuts her eyes as if by doing so she can shut him out forever.

“And I thought I could do this,” Katara says, “I thought I could have it both ways, but I can’t, I cannot keep you and I cannot let you go, and it feels like it’s killing me, Zuko, it’s –“

And suddenly her grandmother is there, enveloping her in her arms as Katara rests her head on her shoulder and cries and cries the way she hasn’t let herself in years, every breath she takes shuddering throughout her body. Her grandmother holds her, and doesn’t say anything, but Katara knows, as Kanna’s hands move comfortingly down her spine, that she can feel how prominent her ribs have become.

“Katara,” she says at last. “Katara, my love, please, you need to let go.”

“I’m trying, Gran-Gran,” Katara rasps. “I’m trying so hard –“

“Are you, though?” Kanna says, and tilts her head to catch Katara’s gaze, her eyes blue and so, so tired. “Are you really? Are you really ready to let go of him?”

“I don’t know why he’s here,” Katara says. “I don’t know what unfinished business we have –“

“That wasn’t my question,” her grandmother says. “Are you ready, here and now, to let go of him?”

Yes. No. Katara raises her head, lets her gaze flicker around, but for once Zuko is not there. For once, she is alone, and she has to fight not to cry again at how relieved she is at that, even if it feels a little like a betrayal. If Zuko stays any longer, she thinks she might grow to hate him, and Katara - oh, Katara has survived many things, but she does not think she can survive that.

“I think,” she says at last. “I might have to be.”

5. How to let go.

They are standing on the edge of the cliffs, she and Zuko, looking down into the waves. She can feel the current of the ocean from here, a waterbender’s call, the song of the sea. The sea, which never takes without giving back.

A hundred years from now, dear heart, she thinks.

“The grief will all be over,” Zuko finishes quietly from behind her. He looks so tired today, pale and almost flickering in the light of the setting sun, as if it is only here and now that he has become, finally, a ghost to her. You are here, she thinks. But I am disappearing.

Whatever unfinished business you and I have, she thinks, we have to let it go, we have to let go –

And just like that, she – she understands, feels the knowledge shift in her like a glacier splitting open, like a piece of driftwood washing up on the shore, like a snowfall covering the last of the footprints heading home.

“I know,” Katara says. “I know why you’re here. And I know how we can end this.”

There is silence for a long time, and then:

“Good,” Zuko says. “Are you going to tell me?”

“Tomorrow,” Katara says. “Just… just stay with me. One more night.”

“Always,” Zuko says, and they stand there together until the dusk begins to fall.

And the next day –

The next day, Katara leads Zuko out into the tundra. For a long, long moment she looks at him; his sharp chin, his dark hair, his eyes so soft as they look back at her. Ahead of them the vast snowy plains stretch on for forever, an endless white expanse reaching out to the horizon, the brilliance of the arctic sun almost blinding as she squints into it.

“I thought,” Katara says finally, “I thought that you were here because we had unfinished business. But that’s not true, is it?” She reaches out and rests her hand a heartbeat away from Zuko’s scarred cheek; and he closes his eyes and leans into her palm. She pretends she can feel the warm skin against her own, and lets out a breath.

“We don’t have unfinished business, Zuko,” she says. “You and I, we never started.”

Zuko blinks at her, long and slow.

“And –“ Katara says, and her voice catches, just for a moment. “Maybe that’s better, you know? If we’d started, but we never got the chance to end things, I don’t think I could’ve let go of you, but we never started, the two of us, and maybe that’ll make it easier. Maybe now you can go. Maybe now we can stop reaching.”

And Zuko smiles at her, just a little, so sadly it makes her throat ache, but there is something else in it too. Affection. Understanding. Grace.

“Never started,” he says, his voice so familiar – and already, it seems a little hollow, echoing, like already it is fading. “Okay. I think I can live with that.”

“That’s a terrible joke, ghost boy,” she says. “I’m the one who has to live with it.”

“Can you?”

“Oh, don’t you worry about my strength,” Katara says, an old joke between them, and even though she is breathless, even though she has to fight every impulse in her body to gasp out the next words, she does. “I have plenty.”

“Okay,” Zuko says. “Okay.” He turns to look at the horizon, unceasing and so empty. If they walk into it, Katara thinks, they might just keep walking forever, until they reach the edge of this world and cross over into the next one. He looks younger, suddenly; Katara can just barely make out the loosening in his brow as his features begin to flicker and fade.

“Thank you, Katara,” he says, and Katara has to stop for a moment, reset her heart, breathe out the pain in her lungs. It is too cold to cry, and for that alone, she thinks she might love the South Pole a little, this beautiful and frozen landscape, this icy world that has broken and built her.

“I think,” she says. “I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

Zuko tilts a smile at her over his shoulder, but he is already walking into the sun, and Katara watches him go. He doesn’t leave any footprints, but Katara pretends he does, and she stays until those imaginary footprints – I am here; I am disappearing – have been filled in by the snow that has already begun to fall.

And it is then, and only then, that she turns back towards her village – Katara, Katara – and lets the winds sing her home.

A hundred years from now, dear heart, The grief will all be o'er; The sea of care will surge in vain Upon a careless shore. These glasses we turn down today Here at the parting of the way— We shall be wineless then as they, And shall not mind it more.

#i write #zutara fic #zutara week #zutara week 2017 #zutara #otp: you rise with the moon i rise with the sun #forever and always the show of my heart #atla

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