#I managed to get three on the table and boom gone

[its-a-beautful-day]

Wednesday - Antonio the Anteater

Hmmm these ants are suspiciouly cranberry flavored 🤔🐜

[nolita-fairytale]

don’t want to walk alone | carmen ‘carmy' berzatto | chapter three: september

summary: the moment we've all be waiting for: you and carmy get married.

warnings: swearing, eventual smut, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov, she/her pronouns

wc: 7.1k

listen to: the official don't want to walk alone playlist. there is SO much music in this chapter, so per the playlist, it starts with 'it takes two' and ends with 'love story.'

a/n: ok so this chapter was a behemoth to write and i am in fact in love with it. it's taken me days, really weeks, to get what i wanted out of it and i still feel like i could've gone deeper. however, i'm also kind of just happy to have this out in the world and give these two the wedding they wanted me to give them. each moment was curated and thought out, down to the music selection so this chapter is really just a product of me stewing on this idea for quite a bit of time. this is a part of my make my heart surrender universe so check out the masterlist if you haven't read the series! next up? their long weekend at the langham where we really get carmy x reader and moments for just them. please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part two | masterlist | part four

“It takes two to make a thing go riiiiight.”

You never pictured the night before your wedding like this, you think to yourself, as you listen to Fak sing, to the best of his ability in a somewhat-decent falsetto, along to the 90s hip hop classic. 

Hell, you’re not sure you really ever pictured your wedding, but as you sit, surrounded by the people you love, you can’t see it going any other way than this. You watch as Richie rallies up as many people as he can for shots of Mallort, recounting that infamous morning at Ceres – a story he’s told over and over again, yet still manages to tell as animated and boisterously as the first time you heard it. 

You groan as you watch Richie successfully convince Gary to take a shot with him, Gary’s face twisting into a look of disgust in response to the foul taste of the Chicago liquor, as Sugar reminds him that he should know better by now. 

Carmy gives your knee a squeeze while simultaneously brushing off Richie’s attempt at shoving a shot in his direction. You laugh, a warm feeling filling you to the brim (could be the beer, could be being surrounded by your people), while Sydney jumps right into her best Rob Base impression. 

It just so happens that your continuously put-off ‘let’s shoot for next month’ karaoke plans with a few staff members from The Bear coincided with plans to go out with friends before the wedding, which is how you’ve found yourself here. 

After a lovely dinner at The Bear, your parents went back to the hotel for the night, insisting that you two go and have your fun. And as much as you would’ve loved to have brought your mother-who-has-a-doctorate-in-music-theory to karaoke night, she much preferred a good night’s sleep. 

The crowded bar claps enthusiastically as Fak and Sydney wrap up their song, finishing their truly-made-up-only-for-comedy dance moves. You giggle, exchanging another glance with Carmy, as your friends take their bows, before shuffling off of the stage. 

You hear the loud boom of the emcee’s voice through the microphone as he says:

“And up next we got… Tina!”

“Let’s go, T!” you shout through hands crowded around your mouth, in an effort to increase your volume of sound. 

Carmy cheers, clapping his hands together as Richie enthusiastically chants Tina’s name while Tina makes her way to the stage. 

“This is gonna be good,” Sugar nudges you, from where you are, seated in between the Berzatto siblings. 

You nod your head in agreement before settling in a little closer to Carmy. 

“The queen, herself,” Sydney remarks, gesturing towards the stage as she and Fak both return to your table. Sydney pulls up a chair next to where you and Carmy sit while Fak joins Richie on the other side of it. “And the ONLY act that could follow our exceptional performance.” 

“Well, exactly,” you agree, playfully. 

You exchange a laugh with Syd, while Carmy playfully rolls his eyes at the two of you. 

The crowded bar room goes quiet as soon as Tina reaches the stage, smiling nervously as she grabs the mic. 

“This one goes out to our favorite Jeffrey. And his lady Jeff,” she begins, earning a round of cheers and hollers from the group you’re with. Tina blows a kiss you and Carmy’s way, before nodding at the emcee to begin. 

“I love you guys.”

You hear the beginning notes of the iconic Etta James tune, gasping in anticipation of her song:

“at last my love has come along my lonely days are over and life is like a song.”

You sigh in admiration, a hand over your heart as Tina continues to sing. Her voice is powerful, soulful – perfect for the song, really – as she continues into the second verse. 

“at last the skies above are blue my heart was wrapped up in clover the night I looked at you.”

This time, it’s Carmy who steals a glance your way, his mind taken back to that fateful night at a bar in Hell’s Kitchen, when he spilled his drink on you so many years ago. You’re entranced, enchanted, with Tina’s performance, and he thinks to himself, that maybe this is the best it’s ever going to get: being here with you, getting to love you, on the cusp of promising you ‘forever’ tomorrow. 

Never had he expected that you’d make it this far. You’d always been so much cooler than him – well-liked, talented, funny – in and out of the kitchen, that he had no idea how the hell he was supposed to talk to you without vomiting all over your shoes out of nerves. 

He can remember that night so vividly: standing there in the restroom of the bar he can barely remember the name of, while you stood across from him with the kind of glare on your face he swore could kill him. But you didn’t, and after many attempts to push you away, you asked him to be your friend, deeming it the day that started it all – a friendship that would teeter the line of friendship and something more, one that would bloom into the greatest love he’s ever known. As much as he hates to give Nate fucking Walker any kind of credit, he’ll the be first in line to say he’s glad the jagoff pushed him into you, setting it all in motion. 

You can see that Carmy’s become distracted, lost in thought as the song finishes, something behind your favorite pair of blue eyes as the entire bar ignites into a huge round of celebratory claps for Tina’s performance. 

You look up over at him, setting your beer bottle down on the table before leaning over to whisper in his ear.

“I can hear you thinkin’ over there, Berzatto,” you tease him quietly, pulling him from his trip down memory lane. “It’s only the night before the biggest day of your life. Relax.”

Carmy rolls his eyes playfully in response, but before he can properly respond to your jab, the emcee has begun introducing the next karaoke singers to the stage. 

“Alright. Looks like I’ve got uh… three singers here this time,” the emcee says, his voice cutting sharply through the crowd of remaining cheers. “Let’s welcome Sydney back to the stage with… Sugar and… the bride to be!” 

“What!?” you exclaim, your eyes wide with surprise as Sydney jumps to her feet.  

“But I didn’t-,” you begin to protest, as Sugar pulls you to your feet, tugging on your arm. 

“Oh there’s no way in hell we’re letting you sit this one out,” Sugar orders you, as Sydney rushes to your side, ushering you towards the stage. 

“Yeah this was your idea!” Sydney simultaneously reminds you. 

“Babe! Help!” you call out to Carmy, only to be met with a shrug and a look that says ‘don’t think I could if I tried.’ 

“Oh, he’s in on this,” Sydney adds, which does explain why he didn’t even attempt to help you when your friends began dragging you out of your chair. “So don’t even think about asking him for help.”

“Wh-? But I don’t even know what we’re singing!” you continue to protest, looking from Sugar to Sydney as they push you onto the stage with them. 

“Trust,” Sydney reassures you, her face serious, while Nat slides a sash over you (one you’ve refused to wear all night) that has the word, ‘BRIDE’ printed over it in huge gold lettering. You groan, sending a glare in Nat’s direction, even though you know it’s all in good fun. 

You hear Richie shout, while Fak and Marcus clap loudly, and Carmy laughs, shouting words of encouragement your way. 

You know there’s no use in putting up a fight, especially since this was your idea anyways, as you begrudgingly take one of the three wireless mics. Before you can ask once more, what the hell Syd and Nat signed the three of you up to sing, a distinct slide of piano keys comes in, lighting up the karaoke screen in front of you. 

You grin immediately, in recognition, and to your two best friend’s delight, as they smile too, raising the mics to your lips to sing:

“friday night and the lights are low looking out for a place to go where they play the right music getting in the swing you come to look for a king.”

You laugh as your friends point towards Carmy on the last line. The three of you continue to sing the next part with reckless abandon, and all is forgiven. 

You could care less about how the three of them conspired against you to get you up here. All that matters now is that you’re here, singing one of your favorite songs with your best friends, grooving and dancing to the ABBA classic, as you prepare to marry your best friend. 

“you can dance you can jive having the time of your life ooh, see that girl watch that scene digging the dancing queen.”

"what good is love without any strings?" dayglow, 'close to me'

“Baby.”

Carmy groans in response, as soon as he hears the low hum of your voice. 

“Good morning,” you say, a soft smile on your face as you watch him begin to blink his eyes open. 

Carmy turns his head towards you, and he can’t believe he gets to wake up to this – to you – every single day. 

“Hey,” he says back, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “Good Morning, sweetheart.” 

“Guess what?” you ask him with the kind of glee and anticipation as a kid on Christmas morning. 

“Hmm?” he hums, as you smooth a hand over his chest, your body pressed against his side as you look at your soon-to-be husband. 

“We’re getting married today,” you grin, a giddiness that bubbles inside of you. 

“‘S that so?” he mumbles, playfully. 

“Uh huh,” you nod with a chuckle, this time playing along. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

Instead of replying with words, Carmy swiftly wraps an arm around you, before flipping you so that you’re the one on your back this time. You let out of a shriek and a laugh as he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before adding:

“How could I ever?”

You shrug casually, “Weeeelll…. you just have so much going on up there.” You reach up to where Carmy hovers above you, brushing a golden curl out of his eyes as you continue your little dance. 

“You know, between the restaurant and all that time spent being a genius,” you joke, bantering with Carmy. “Don’t know how you have the time to remember silly little things like wedding dates and what not.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Carmy laughs, shaking his head incredulously, before pressing another kiss, this one much deeper to your lips again. 

And this time, as he pulls away, he gives you one of those languid looks that pierces right through your soul replying much more seriously this time with:

“I could never forget you.”

The way he says it with such conviction takes your breath away, and you know that Carmy means it. The double meaning isn’t lost on him either. 

It’s one of the reasons he called you all those years ago to come teach Marcus; it’s why you ended up in Chicago:

Because as much as he tried, as damn good at compartmentalizing as he’d always been, he really could never forget you. Carmy shakes his head once more, a playful smile on his face as he leans down to kiss you again, wondering when the hell he got this fuckin’ sentimental. As he places his mouth over yours, you’re more than happy to switch gears into doing this dance for a little longer. 

 Carmy traces light shapes against your skin, his mouth pouring love into yours with every kiss, with every drag of his tongue. You gasp as he grinds his hips into yours, making it clear where he’d like this all to go. You pull away, only for a moment, giggling cheekily. 

“Babe, I-,” you begin to protest, as Carmy chuckles, continuing to kiss you with zero intention of stopping “We… we’re going to be late.” This time, you feel his hands snake underneath the t-shirt you’ve been sleeping in, sending chills down your spine. 

“And-, Carm-, I-, I have to do my hair for-, … and what about-, my parents, they’ll-,” you stammer through, your thoughts becoming all kinds of disorganized with the way Carmy’s lips move against your neck this time. 

“I’ll be quick,” he answers with an aplomb you didn’t know he had in him. 

“I don’t know if that’s the flex you think it is,” you tease him as his hands begin to cup your breasts, your body responding with an involuntary arch of your back. 

“How fast I can make you come? I think it might be?” he murmurs against your lips, cockily.  

“Carmy,” you moan, as he begins to pull your t-shirt up higher, making it incredibly difficult to think of your to-do list for much longer. 

“Oh fuck it,” you sigh, deciding that, perhaps there’s no harm in getting the honeymoon started a little early anyways. 

“That’s my girl,” Carmy whispers against you, grinning like a Cheshire cat as you surrender to him. 

And he’s right about this too. 

How fast he can make you cum deserves all kinds of bragging rights, awards – a Nobel Peace prize, even – and you’re not sure why you thought getting a head start on doing your hair would’ve been the better idea in the first place. You spend the morning in the arms of the man you plan to spend forever with as he writes love letters, promises to give you the world, declarations of adoration with the pleasure he brings you. And besides, you’re not running all that behind on time anyways – something you realize, as the two of you get out of the shower (a round two, really). 

It takes a little longer than expected – mostly due to the fact that you and Carmy can’t seem to keep your hands off of each other – but against all odds, the two of you pull up to the courthouse right on time. 

It’s a sight for sore eyes: you, running hand in hand with your husband-to-be in a white, halter-cut wedding dress while Carmy follows along, in a classic black suit – no tie around the neck – as the two of you hurry into the courthouse. 

Sure, you could’ve tried to get here early – saved a little time and stress – but where’s the fun in that?

The two of you approach your families, hand in hand, to the sounds of your heels clicking against the marble floors of City Hall. The actual ceremony at City Hall, you’d both decided, would be family only. 

Since you weren’t making a huge deal of it, you viewed this part as necessary paperwork, while the party itself could function as the ceremony and reception. But as soon as you see the look on your parents’ faces, you know this is more than just a few signed papers. You watch as their faces change, from impatient, waiting, eager, to in awe and emotional as you walk towards them. 

You hear Ava shout your name, immediately dropping her dad’s hand as she runs towards you. 

“Ava!!” you exclaim, bending down in your heels and white dress to scoop her up into a hug. You spin her around, just for a moment, before setting her back down on the floor. 

“You look like a princess,” she says, completely in awe, her eyes wide as she looks up at you. 

“You look like a princess, sweetie,” you reply, before giving her another hug. “And you know I can’t wait to hear your song, right?” 

“I picked the best one,” she grins, proudly. 

“I’m sure you did,” you reply confidently, with a playful wink. 

“Oh-ho! Pay up, Rick,” Sugar mutters smugly, to Richie, as Carmy busies himself with greeting both of your parents.

Richie groans, muttering something profane as he not-so-discreetly hands Nat a $20 bill, earning a quizzical look from both of your parents that travels from Carmy and then to you. 

“Sorry,” Richie apologizes, this time directing this one towards your parents as he holds up both hands, respectfully bowing his head. 

You send a playful glare Richie’s way, earning a sardonic laugh from Natalie, as you push right past him and over to your parents. 

“Oh sweetie,” your mom gasps, pulling you in for a tight squeeze. 

“Hi, Mom,” you grin, as you hug her. “Dad!”

“My God, honey, you look beautiful,” your dad says, as it’s his turn next. You hug your dad, exchanging a few words about the morning, asking how they slept, how the hotel is, as your mom and Carmy hug it out. 

This time, he turns his attention towards Carmy, so you release him, letting the two of them have their moment. 

Taking your chance, while your parents are otherwise distracted, you make your way over to where Sugar and Richie stand. 

“What? You guys were betting on whether or not we’d be late?” you ask Sugar, an eyebrow quirked in Richie’s direction. 

“Listen,” Sugar sighs, cupping your face in her hands, endearingly. “You and Carm are nothing if not consistent.” You exchange a laugh with your almost-sister-in-law because you know she’s right. “And for the record, I bet that you’d be-.”

“Just in time!” the judge says, as he approaches the six of you, slipping his judge robe over his shoulders, black leather fold pressed against his chest. “You guys ready to get started?”

Carmy looks over at you, as if he’s waiting for you to take the lead here, and you nod, before the both of you turn back to the judge. 

“Yes.” 

“Great,” he smiles, clapping his hands together once. “Then let’s get you two married!”

"sooner or later, you'll find yourself right where you were, on the corner went looking for her, she had somethin' to tell you, she can't quite remember, but wait for a second, it always comes back to her, you always come back to her." -- the japanese house, 'morning pages'

And after dotting all appropriate i’s and crossing all necessary t’s, with one signed marriage license later, you, Carmy, your parents, Richie and Ava, Sugar, and Judge Thompson find yourself on the green roof of City Hall. 

Carmy stands across you, his hands in yours, offering you a lifetime with one look from the most expressive blue orbs you’ve ever found yourself in. 

“If you’d like to say something, if you prepared any vows… now would be the time,” Judge Thompson says, offering you and Carmy both the space to do so. 

“Oh I think we-,” you begin, ready to decline the opportunity since you figured you’d save it for the reception. 

“Actually uh, yeah. Can we?” Carmen interjects, sending you a look of reassurance. 

“Of course,” Judge Thompson nods, giving you and Carmy the floor. 

“Carm, I didn’t prepare anything for-,” you begin, but he’s quick to put your mind and heart at ease and he interjects with:

“It’s okay. I did.”

“Oh.”

You hadn’t expected this, since you both agreed you’d save any kind of speeches that may or may not happen today during the reception. But as Carmy’s palms grow clammier, a nervous look in his eyes as he searches for the words he’s practiced over the last few days, it becomes clear that he’s been planning this. 

“As you know… I’m not always great with words,” he begins, almost apologetically, letting out a small laugh as he looks to Richie for reassurance. In turn, Richie gives Carmy a sympathetic nod, and you’re practically melting over the fact that he probably asked Richie for help with this. 

Let it rip.

 “I just uh-,” Carmy stammers, because he really, really wants to get this right. “Well, I’ll keep it brief.” He takes a breath, letting all of his nerves out on the exhale before beginning again. 

Let it rip, buddy.

“I have loved you for so long – I think maybe since the day you brought me soup after I uh… you know, spilled my drink on you,” he states, earning the sweetest laugh from you, your friends, and family that came to witness. 

“-- so I promise to love you for even longer, for forever. You changed my life.”

You exhale, trying your best not to cry right here and now, thankful for the mysterious powers of waterproof mascara. 

“Jeez, no pressure,” you joke, dryly, before taking another breath, this time approaching your words with much more seriousness.

“Carmen. I’m so happy… that I changed your life,” you begin, cheekily, earning a laugh from your witnesses once more. “Because you changed mine. And I promise to love you forever.” 

‘I love you,’ Carmy mouths to you, before nodding towards the judge to signal that you’re both done with your vows. 

“Alright then,” Judge Thompson smiles, looking from you and then to Carmen, before uttering the question that will change the course of your life forever. 

“I do,” Carmy replies, his voice even, sure, ready. 

Natalie steps up this time, handing Carmy your ring, and you watch, teary eyed and full hearted as he slides it onto your left ring finger. 

“And do you take Carmen Anthony Berzatto to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Judge Thompson repeats the question, this time for you to answer. 

“Yeah, why the hell not?” you reply, earning a groan from your mother and a playful chuckle from your father. 

“Yes. I do.” 

At Richie’s encouragement, it’s Ava this time who steps up, handing you Carmy’s ring, with the sweetest most excited smile on her face as she looks from you to Carmy. You thank her, before returning your attention to Carmy once more. His eyes search your face, and there’s something so soft, so genuine in them that you think you’re going to cry as you help him put on his new piece of jewelry as well. 

“Then by the power vested in me by the State of Illinois, I now pronounce you, husband and wife,” Judge Thompson concludes, contently.

“Should we-, do we kiss?” Carmy asks, looking from you to Judge Thompson. 

“I’m just a civil servant but you may, yes,” he answers lightheartedly. 

“Let’s go for it,” you shrug, taking a step towards Carmy. 

Instead of answering, he smiles, stepping towards you before planting one on you in front of your friends and family that were invited to this brief ceremony. 

While Sugar claps gleefully, Richie claps along muttering a ‘get a room,’ while you remind Carmy to keep it PG enough for your parents. You giggle, slowly pulling away from the kiss that begins the rest of your life with the man that you love. 

“We did it, baby. We’re married,” you chuckle, in disbelief. 

“Finally,” Carmy sighs, and you can see his smile from his lips to the crinkles in the corners of his eyes. 

It doesn’t take long for your mom to usher both you and Carmy over to a spot in the garden she thinks will be best for pictures, just as the photographer arrives. She wasn’t wrong when she insisted you hire one, that you’d want to remember this day for the rest of your life. The photographer, who is incredibly talented, gets the shots needed up here in the garden, then downstairs, and outside, before you’re all off to Sugar’s place for the reception. 

As you and Carmy sit in the car, having taken a separate one than your parents, you’re giddy with anticipation. 

It’s all so surreal. 

Never in his life did Carmy picture it ever getting this good, but as he looks over at you, your head resting on his shoulder, he presses a kiss to the top of your head, smiling to himself. 

“We did it, sweet girl. We’re married,” he says, repeating your words from earlier. 

“Yeah,” you grin, lifting your head off of his shoulder. 

“We are, Bear.”

"give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be la vie en rose."

“No, Sugar! That’s not supposed to go out yet. Everything’s goin’ out family style. Let’s just take out the apps for-,” Carmy exclaims, stressed over the execution of your wedding reception-slash-brunch, because he just can’t help himself. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, Bear!” she snaps at her brother. “Will you calm down and let us handle this?” 

“I just want everything to-,” Carmy begins, his face blushing a shade darker. 

“To go right. We know. And we know we’re just taking out apps, alright? Everyone else is outside, and everyone’s having a good time so just… relax,” she suggests, her tone serious because she’s just about to kick Carmy out of the kitchen. 

Carmy shifts nervously, hyper-fixating on the happenings of the kitchen, his eyes tracking the movements of one of his caterer, Derek’s, sous chefs. It’s almost as if he needs to give himself a distraction as he asks, blankly:

“Do you uh… you think Mom is actually gonna show?”

Sugar pauses, the question throwing her. 

“I… I don’t know. I called her yesterday. She never picked up. What do you think?” she replies, her voice quiet. 

With your encouragement, you and Carmy had sent his mother an invitation to the brunch, only it’s been Sugar who’s followed up with her. 

“We did what we needed to and if she doesn’t come, then she doesn’t come. I’m not pushin’ it,” Carmy had explained, justifying his actions, or rather, lack there of, to you. 

She’s doubtful, but Nat can’t help the tiny glimmer of hope she has in her heart that Donna might show, even if she knows it’s unrealistic. In fact, her mom had barely been interested in stopping by as of late, ever since she’d told the Berzatto matriarch that she was pregnant. She keeps telling herself that it doesn’t matter – that it’s probably better if Donna doesn’t show – but it doesn’t help ease the disappointment she feels about the situation as a whole. 

“Doubt it, honestly. Never even got an RSVP so,” Carmy shrugs, his eyes following one of the caterers as the woman plates a few Hors d'oeuvres on a large serving platter. 

Before Sugar can say anything else about their mom, Carmy’s impulse takes over as he opens his mouth to give feedback to one of Derek’s assistants. 

“Carmy!” she snaps, blocking his pathway with her body, before repeating one more time:

“Let. Us. Handle this.”

“I mean, are any of us actually surprised, Nat?” Sydney adds, as soon as she enters the kitchen from where she’s been outside in the backyard, in search of another plate to bring out. “He’s a control freak! We know this!”

“I-,” Carmy starts, knowing it’s no use protesting, as both Sugar and Syd begin guiding him out of the kitchen and into the living room. 

“C’mon, Carm. Why don’t you go see what your wife is up to?” Sydney suggests, emphasizing your new title, earning a snicker from Natalie. 

“Who’s wife? This wife?” you ask, as soon as your feet hit the bottom of the staircase. 

“Woah,” is all Carmy says. He can’t help but stare, gawking at you in your new dress. 

You’ve changed out of your near-floor length wedding dress into a sleeveless white blazer dress that’s much more friendly to hanging out with your friends and family outside, kept your hair the same, and put on one of those super stay red lipsticks that you’re eager to put through its paces. 

It’s as if time stops when he sees you, and Sugar and Syd both notice, using this time to retreat back to their duties. The only thing that can break his focus right now is the way that you let a carefree laugh fly from your lips, as soon as you see that Natalie’s using the future baby’s baby gate that Nat must’ve purchased early, to officially block Carmy from coming back to the kitchen. 

“What?” Carmy asks, only to be met with a gesture towards what Natalie is doing. 

He frowns, immediately seeing the baby gate his sister has put up. 

“You know, I’m not a baby,” he pouts at his sister. 

“Then stop acting like one!” she parries right back, before disappearing into the kitchen to help out your caterer. 

Quick to console your husband, you wrap your arms around your neck, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“They’re only trying to make sure we have a good time, Bear,” you offer, sympathetically, only to be met with a heavy sigh because you know it feels near-impossible for him not to be in the kitchen. 

“You trust Derek right?” you ask this time, referring to the caterer that Carmy hand-picked for your wedding. 

“Yeah,” he nods. 

“Okay. Then let’s go out there. Make our grand entrance,” you suggest, a playful smile on your lips. 

“Yeah,” Carmy nods again, this time a little more sure about taking a step away from what’s happening inside the kitchen. You take his hand, leading him towards the back door that opens up to the backyard. 

You’re truly amazed at what everyone involved has been able to do this morning, while you and Carmy were off at the courthouse getting married. Long tables pushed together and covered with tablecloths function as the main attraction of the you-and-Carmy-wedding-reception-brunch, filled with ceramic plates, printed menus, apps on serving platters, taper candles and flowers in all kinds of little to big vases. 

The minute the two of you enter the backyard area that’s been transformed into a wedding venue, you’re met with cheers, ooo’s and aaaaah’s, claps, and congratulations by your friends and family. 

“Sugar really knocked this out of the park,” Carmy says, in awe as he takes in the scene. “Okay, fine. I’ll just have to trust, I guess.”

You nod, happy to hear the confidence in his voice as you agree, “That’s my guy!”

There’s a banner that hangs across a much smaller table, the one that holds the stunning wedding cake Marcus has made for you that reads, Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Berzatto.

“See? I told you I couldn’t wait to be Mrs. Berzatto,” you joke with Carmy, as the two of you walk hand in hand towards the table. 

“I think I like the sound of that more than I should,” Carmy smirks, a glimmer in his eyes that says ‘I can’t wait to get you alone.’

“Can’t wait for you to show me later,” you wink, referring to the long weekend you plan on spending with Carmy as a pre-honeymoon. “C’mon. We should probably go say hello.” 

“So… you two married now or what?” Marcus asks, as soon as the two of you approach the table. 

You hold up your left hand, showing off your new ring, earning grins and more cheers from your friends and family. 

“That’s what I’m talking about!” he celebrates, while Tina simultaneously and enthusiastically cries out: “Congratulations, babies!”

The plan is to divine and conquer. While you chat with Gary, Carmy lets himself become enveloped in Tina’s arms and praise, as the two of you make your way down the table saying hello to your guests: your parents, Marcus, Tina, Ebra, Fak, Gary, a few others from the restaurant, while. 

Carmy’s glad you decided to keep this wedding small: close friends and family only, because he’s not sure he could’ve done any more of this. It’s just close friends from the restaurant and your parents. You’d even decided earlier that this weekend would be chill enough that you’d celebrate with Maya and Liz a few months later when you and Carmy stop in New York before the official honeymoon, planning another celebration with your New York people for later. 

Besides, you don’t mind celebrating you and Carmy a few more times, after all. 

Finally, you’re both able to settle into the empty chairs seated right next to your parents in the middle of the table labeled ‘bride’ and ‘groom.’ It’s a Saturday well spent, being celebrated by some of your favorite people in the world on a day you made a promise to your favorite person in the world. It doesn’t take long for everyone in the kitchen to join you at the table: Sugar, Richie, Sydney, and Pete, and once the meal is served, family style, you’re pulling up chairs and insisting that Derek and his team join you as well. 

The menu is perfect, and you can see why Carmy’s been trying to get this guy to come work for him for so long. Next to Carmy’s, this carbonara might be your second favorite carbonara on the planet. After all the eating, drinking, and merry-making, it’s Richie who steps up to start the speeches, gently tapping a butter knife against a champagne glass as he stands at the table. 

“Can I get everyone’s attention?” he asks, his voice loud. Richie raises his champagne glass as he begins his speech with:

“Now as the best man and this Bobby Flay-motherfucker's cousin, I think I earn the right to kick this thing off, eh?” earning a laugh from everyone around the table. 

“To Carmy and his much, much better half,” he continues, earning a laugh from everyone around the table. Your mom squeezes your hand under the table, and out of the corner of your eye you can see Sydney nudging Carmy softly as Richie addresses you. 

“You once made me $150 richer.” You laugh, exchanging a look with your now-husband, as you fondly remember the day you returned to Chicago, only to learn that the entire restaurant staff of The Bear had been betting, not on if, but on when you’d return.

“You see, we all took bets – all of us – that you were comin’ back after that first week you spent here in Chicago, and you know why? I think it was obvious to any jagoff with a pair of eyes that what you and Cousin had was something special – something not to be missed, or overlooked, or skipped over. And thank God you two idiots woke up and figured it out yourselves. You did good, cousin. And I know your brother would’ve wanted to be here for this. I love you, man. I love you both.”

“To this very special day, and to the rest of your lives. Cheers.”

“Cheers!” everyone repeats, raising their glasses, clinking in celebration. 

The upside to having a small wedding party is having a small wedding party, and the downside is that everyone who feels the need to get in a word does so. While Ebraheim waxes on about love as a metaphor, Marcus keeps his toast short, leading to the cutting of your wedding cake:

Vanilla bean cake, with a clementine curd, a swiss meringue buttercream, decorated with delicate flowers, citrus, and dollops of curd to finish. 

Richie slips out with Pete momentarily, earning a few quizzical looks from both Carmy and Nat as she gets up from the table to make sure they’re not trading punches in the driveway. It’s not till Richie returns with Pete, carrying a rented little karaoke machine for Ava. Hand in hand, you watch as Natalie guides Ava up and out of her chair, and over to the head of the table, handing her the microphone. 

“You ready, sweetheart?” she asks, earning a confident nod from Ava. 

The beginning of the famous Taylor Swift begins to play, and you and Carmy exchange a knowing look as she begins to sing along. 

“we were both young when i first saw you i close my eyes and the flashback starts i'm standin' there on a balcony in summer air.”

As Natalie and Pete watch on, Pete hugs his wife close to her, tears in his eyes as he whispers: 

“This is going to be us very, very soon.” 

“Yeah,” Nat nods, holding back her own tears as she notices how proud Richie looks, and how happy Ava seems to be. 

It’s not that she wants Donna here. Realistically, she knows that it would be a nightmare, most likely descending into drama and chaos from the minute she walked in, but she can’t believe that her own mother didn’t come to her son’s wedding. She shouldn’t be surprised, but it hurts more than she imagined, doing this, watching Carmy get married, having this baby with Pete, all without her. 

Ava finishes her Taylor Swing song to a resounding and enthusiastic round of applause. Marcus cheers her on while you and Carmy share a soft, chaste kiss, welcoming Ava with open arms as she runs towards you. 

“That was so good, baby,” Richie exclaims, when it’s his turn to scoop Ava up into his arms as you get out of your seat. Allowing Richie to sit next to Carmy while the two gush over her performance, you get up, eager to help put the karaoke machine away. 

As she watches, Nat reminds herself that this is what family looks like – this is the family she wants for her baby – even if it means something, someones, are missing.

And it’s as if she can’t hold back her tears anymore, excusing herself as she jerks her body away from Pete’s grasp, hurrying back inside so as not to cause a scene. 

“What just-?” Pete begins. 

“I’ll go,” you assure him, having witnessed the whole interaction. “I-, it’s not you, Pete. I’ll go.”

It doesn’t take you long to find Nat, though she’s not where you expected her to be, having run all the way upstairs when you find her sitting on the floor of the baby’s nursery – one you helped paint and get ready over a month ago. 

“Hey, everything alright?” you ask, as you gently push the door open. 

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” she sniffles, wiping tears out of her eyes as she realizes she’s no longer alone. 

“Nat, what… what’s going on?” you ask her, joining her on the floor. 

But it seems as if your question only makes it worse as her face crumbles once more, beginning to cry. 

“Oh no! I-, Nat, sweetie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it even worse.”

“No, no, you didn’t. It’s just these… stupid pregnancy hormones!” she exclaims, frustratedly, earning a small laugh from the both of you. 

She takes a beat, and then a breath, and then finally, she feels ready to tell you. 

“It’s Mom,” she admits, even though she really doesn’t want it to be. “I just can’t believe she didn’t show. It’s stupid, I know.” 

You nod in understanding, before scooting a little closer to her, “It’s not stupid! And I’m sorry. For the both of you, really. Carmy doesn’t want to talk about it but, I know he’s some combination of relieved and disappointed too.” 

Sugar sighs, “Yeah that uh, that sums it up pretty well. About anything involving Mom these days.” 

Nat takes another breath, and another beat, because she knows she’s safe to share this with you. 

“I just… I’ve just been thinking a lot… with the baby and everything. About family. About motherhood. I mean, your parents are so great and I-. I’m just sad for us, you know?”

“I’m sad for you too,” you empathize, rubbing soothing circles on her back, before leaning back on both of your hands instead. 

“God, I’m so sorry. It’s your wedding day and I’m causing all the drama,” Nat begins to apologize. 

“Oh, you have nothing to be sorry for!” you interrupt her, quick to dismiss any notion of that. “You lent us your house and put together all of this in your backyard on top of accompanying us to the courthouse! You have nothing to apologize for.”

Sugar nods slowly, processing what you’ve just said, realizing that you and Pete have been such big role models of unconditional love for her. 

“Wanna know what I think?” you ask, your voice a little more optimistic this time. 

“What’s up?” she asks back, stealing a glance your way. 

“I think… that now that I’m a Berzatto… and with your little Bear on the way,” you begin, painting her the picture. “We’ve got a whole new chance to write a new chapter for the Berzattos.” 

She looks your way once more, because these are the words she didn’t know she needed to hear. 

“And with that… we can make this… make our families anything we want them to be filled with love, and joy, and-, well, only a little drama because you know, you guys are… you. But… Sug. This can all start with us, you know?”

“You really think so?” she asks you, a hopeful look in her eyes. 

“Yeah,” you answer, confidently. 

She nods slowly once more, almost as if she’s letting herself believe them. 

“Thank you. For checking in on me. For… this,” she says softly, sniffling again. 

“That’s what sisters are for,” you repeat her words back to her, one’s that she’s said to you time and time again. 

“We should probably get back out there,” Sugar suggests, sitting up a little taller this time. 

“Yeeeaaaaahhhhh,” you sigh, disappointedly, this time making a joke as you continue with: “We don’t want to start any rumors about us running away together. 

Nat snorts with laughter, thanking you for always making her laugh, as you stand up, making your way to your feet. You hold out your hands, helping Nat up to hers this time, before the two of you head back downstairs. 

“Hey,” Carmy says, as soon as he sees the two of you. “Pete said you disappeared.”

“We were just talking about some stuff,” you reply, sharing a look with Sugar before releasing her hand. 

“I’ll leave the two of you to it,” she says, before slipping out through the back door. 

“Everything okay?” Carmy asks, his brow knitted together in concern. 

You nod, “Yeah, she’s alright. How’re you doing?”

“Today? I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he replies, a smile on his lips that makes you melt. 

“Damn right you are,” you reply, pressing your lips against his. 

It’s a private moment for just you two, where you can kiss him like you want to, and you have to admit that the lipstick holds up. Wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands go to your waist, you propose a grand idea to your husband:

“Now that cake has been cut… what do you say… we spend a little more time with our guests, say our goodbyes… then we get our honeymoon started early? Think uh… our room at the Langham should be ready by now.”

“Thought we already did that this morning,” Carmy smirks, kissing you again. 

You giggle, leaning your forehead against his, “You know what I mean, jerk.” 

Carmy scoffs, shaking his head incredulously as he feigns hurt, “Married for a few hours and you’re already insulting me.” Instead of adding anything else, he simply pulls you in closer by your hips murmuring against your lips:

“Alright then, Mrs. Berzatto. Then let’s go say goodbye to our guests.”

“it's a love story, baby, just say, "yes" – taylor swift, ‘love story’

[ultimate-chickennougat]

| Your Salaryman Husband | (Vol 7)

Vol 1 Vol 2 Vol 3 Vol 4 Vol 5 Vol 6 (Not Required) Vol 8 Vol 9

Salaryman!Kento x Housewife!Reader

When Nanami goes on a work trip, his cute little housewife can’t help but miss him…

Word Count: 1.8k

CW: SFW, domestic fluff, fem!Reader, lightly suggestive, wearing Nanami's shirt...

A/n: I was feeling like writing something cute... hope you enjoy!

“Goodbye, my darling, stay safe,” were the last words you muttered to your husband, Nanami, before giving him a kiss as he left the house. Even to him, going on a trip without you was unfathomable, though it had only been three months since your marriage.

It was a work trip for three days, more or less to entertain the heads of a business Nanami’s company was hoping to partner with. It was not his intention to get chosen, there were plenty of other employees, but his standout reputation as a professional, down to business senior manager made him an easy candidate. 

Nanami wiped his forehead with the cloth you had packed with his lunch, something that he appreciated after hearing the news. His boss’s booming enthusiasm had him somewhat hesitant to downright decline the offer, especially the part about him being on the only one who could do the job. 

Maybe he was starting to like doing the bare minimum to keep on top of his work. Being a slacker wasn’t something to be proud of, but it sure was easier than caring in his case. His demeanor was far more dignified than the younger employees, and it’s not like he didn’t produce good results for the company. But the one thing he didn’t want, was for it to take away from his time with you, and any more attention on him from the higher-ups would do just that.

Instead, it was you who inspired him to go. Something about being able to plan a surprise for him for when he got back, the encouragement for him to do something that would hopefully make him get to know his coworkers better.

While you were happy to know your husband was doing well at work, you still got that sinking feeling when he brought the topic up. “Of course you should go, we don’t have anything planned this week and it isn’t that far away,” you fake smiled your way through the conversation, trying to come up with a reason. It would be the first time you were alone in the house for that long without him, you hadn’t gone on a trip since your honeymoon together. 

“Since this one is short, it could help you make up your mind on doing other ones…” you mumbled, carefully stacking the plates on top of each other and carrying them to the kitchen. “I know, but I still don’t want to leave you alone,” Nanami groaned, “Besides, I would rather not spend more time working than I have to.” You sat back down at the table. 

“Don’t you also get a few days off afterwords? We could do something together. I have been meaning to get some things done anyways…” you muttered, giving him a look. “Some things… do indulge me, my love,” he smirked back at you. “A surprise,” you shook your head as he laughed. “Fine, I’ll contact my department,” he stood up, sighing in exhaustion. 

Nanami left for his three day long trip, though not without a yellow scarf carefully tied around his neck, and a neatly ironed jacket. The weather had said it would be windy where he was going. After loading up his bags in the car, he was being picked up by a coworker, the two of you said your final goodbyes, and then he was gone. 

That was in the early morning when it still felt like a normal day. You went about your morning and afternoon routine, you had still packed him a lunchbox to take with him. The sun was shining, and aside from the absent-minded glances at your wedding photo on the table next to the couch, it seemed the same. 

Inevitably, the evening came, and by the usual 5:35 Nanami still wasn’t home. Of course he wouldn’t be, he was hours away. You tried to entertain yourself, first eating a dinner consisting of leftovers, and then sitting down on the couch to do the final touches on the new suit jacket you were making for him.

It wasn’t your best work, as you were more used to sewing simple dresses, aprons, and occasionally mending things, so it was the first undertaking of a challenge like that. Getting your husband’s measurements in an inconspicuous manor was a struggle as well, leafing through his closet in hopes of finding a note from the tailors. 

A light gray suit jacket, something functional he might be able to wear to work if it was taken to an actual tailors and fixed, but after two months of work in your free time, you were quite proud of what you had created. It was something Nanami could hold onto as a gift from his lovely wife. 

The next day was the first without him there at all. As you washed the dishes, all you could think about was calling him, though you knew he would be in meetings all day and would call you when he had the chance. But finally that day passed and it became the third, and you were truly grateful he would be home in the morning. 

You dressed yourself in a light pink nightgown, it was Nanami’s favorite. The two nights before had been the worst sleep you’d gotten in a very long time, missing Nanami’s weight behind you while he wrapped his arms around your waist. You sighed, pulling it off and hanging it up again, instead opting for one of Nanami’s sleeping shirts, one that was just worn by him briefly before he left. He would be home soon afterall, it would be a waste to wear it just for yourself. 

You put your hair up, sinking into bed. It only reminded you of that conversation the two of you had right after your marriage, trying to decide where the two of you would sleep. However, cuddling always seemed to dictate your spot on the bed, so neither the left nor the right side felt correct to lay on after all those months. You sprawled yourself out in the middle laying on your side, pushing a few pillows next to your back and taking Nanami’s to your face, and coupled with the shirt, it smelled just like him. 

Just as you were about to fall asleep, the phone finally rang, and you hurriedly picked it up. “Hello? Kento?” you asked, waiting to hear his voice. “Y/n, I’m sorry I couldn’t call earlier,” he spoke, you could hear his heavy breaths through the speaker. “We were with the clients all day, I don’t think I’ll be doing this again  if I can avoid it,” he voice was scratchy and tired. “I missed you, Kento,” you tried to speak quietly yourself, focusing on the sound coming from him. “I miss you too, my love,” he smiled hearing your words, even if he couldn’t see your face. “They had us turn in our phones, for confidentiality reasons,” he explained. “Makes sense, you’ll be back tomorrow?” you turned to lay on your back, holding the phone to your ear. “Yes, probably around 10:30,” he let out a long sigh. “I can’t wait to hear all about it,” you smiled, knowing your husband and you were tired. “I’ll stay on the phone until you fall asleep, how about that?” he asked as you put the phone on speaker mode and set it on the nightstand.

He started talking about his plane trip, and the struggle the group had when trying to find the hotel, they barely made it to the first meeting with the business representatives. By the third time he asked if you were still awake, you were sound asleep, he could hear your soft breathing through the phone. “Goodnight, my love, I’ll see you in the morning,” he whispered, before hanging up. Smiling to himself in the hotel room, he finished packing up his things for the early flight out, including the picture of the two of you he brought with and sat on his desk. 

When he finally got home, it was Saturday. Your gift was already wrapped and set on the table in the living room, and the house was already clean from the day before. Of course with the combination of your tiredness, and being used to sleeping in late on the weekends, it  almost lead to your absence at the door when Nanami walked in.

You ran to the door, Nanami walking in promptly at 10:30, and assisted him with his bags as if nothing was unusual. His smile remained as he eyed you, having not seen his cute little housewife in three whole days. More specifically, though, was the way you stood there, wearing his shirt. It was long enough to be a short dress for you, loosely covering your body as you greeted him with a soft smile and quick apology. “I’m so glad you’re back, Kento,” you helped him with his things as he hung up his coat. Nanami smirked, moving his hand to your cheek as he leaned down. “What a perfect surprise, my love,” he motioned to your outfit. Your face flushed bright red as you avoided his eyes, about to speak, though that was shortly cut off with a kiss. “I’m sorry, I slept in on accident,” you started, “your gift is on the table, I’ll go change,” he stopped you from moving. 

“I quite like it, actually,” his hand moved down to intertwine with yours. “I’ve never seen you wear my shirts before,” he opened the box on the table, moving the paper from on top of the jacket. 

“It’s not perfect, but I tried to make it to your measurements,” you muttered shyly, as he held it in his hands. “To think you’ve been working on this all this time,” he put the jacket on over his usual button up. “It fits quite well,” you always loved how your husband looked in a suit, and it was no different wearing this. “Should I take it to the tailors?” you asked, as he stared at the embroidery on the inside of the jacket. “I think it’s perfect, thank you, my love,” he pulled you against his chest. 

“I’m glad you like it,” you smiled. “I seem to have a new favorite garment, it came just in time,” he remarked, loosening his tie and folding the jacket back up. “Since I have that time off, we should go somewhere and show this off,” Nanami grabbed your hand, starting to walk towards the bedroom. “Though, right now, I’d just like to spend time with you, my love.” 

“I’m curious, why the change in outfit?” he asked once you entered the room. “Because… I missed you,” you mumbled, “and it smells good, like you.” Nanami gave you a smirk, picking up his pillow from where it laid in the middle of the bed. “And my pillow too, hmm?” you covered your face with your hand, embarrassed. “Well if you like my scent so much, I can certainly do something about that,” he chuckled, pulling you into a hug.

[alchemistc]

goon | bucktommy | chapter three

check out the hockey glossary here (updated for chapter two)

Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two

read Chapter Three on ao3

Tommy's got a plan for the break. It's the same plan as he has every year: spend six days losing every bit of conditioning he's managed to gain over the course of the season by slowly becoming one with his couch, catch up on all the shitty shows he's been neglecting, eat his weight in potato chips and ice cream. Then he'll have one day before practice starts up again where he does weight training so long he wants to throw up, and back to the grind. The usual.

He gets the text as he's rebuilding his nest on the couch, three quarters of the way through day three, and for a long long moment he considers ignoring it.

His phone vibrates on the table again, and Tommy stares apologetically at the movie already queued up to play.

Drinks at Rare Bird tonight. says the text from Chimney, and then, below it, See you at eight. Love Actually can wait

Not a question mark to be found, and he's about to point that out when another text comes in, this time from Ravi.

You have to come tonight

No additional context, again. He's - not exactly unfamiliar with becoming the anchor for an anxious kid trying to find his place - a little mentorship, a little wing-manning, a lot like the guy who'll sit there and just be steady and quiet when someone is overwhelmed and needs a focus point. Panikkar is calm on the surface and an absolute nightmare right under it, a stunning swan with little webbed feet kicking up a storm underneath where all his vulnerabilities are laid bare. Tommy's used to cracking a terrible joke just to force someone so breathless with laughter they forget they'd been holding it, and he's used to that person immediately finding themselves at ease around him.

He has no fucking clue how the front office had known to look for someone to fill that role on the team, but it's become very clear over the course of the last month or so that this in one of the hand-wavey intangibles he's been brought in for.

And Greenway getting traded two days before the All-Star break had fundamentally changed something in the locker room.

There’s always a clique situation in a league like this — D-Pairs like Buckley and Diaz spending so much time together they have their own language that’s incomprehensible to anyone who hasn’t known them as long as they’ve known each other; stars like McKinley and all the guys he’s convinced the front office to sign because he can make them fit the play style they’re going for; the group of guys that jump between third and fourth lines with their heads on a swivel for the first opportunity to take a stab at more minutes; the boys living in their buddies basement apartment and the ones who own a McMansion somewhere in a gated community half an hour away from the rink.

Greenway had made the cliques circle in, shore up for the storm. And Tommy’s an easy-going guy, gets along well with everyone, but — something had lifted, the day they got the news, some tension easing, the groups getting a little less exclusive even just in the single game they’d played after he was gone. There’s no one for Tommy to say “I told you so” to, but he’d patted himself on the back for knowing it, anyway.

Tommy's trying to convince himself not to cave to Ravi and Chim when another text comes in, this one from Diaz.

We're taking bets on which turn Buck's gonna eat shit on this year, you in?

Christ, they live eat and breathe the game.

Tommy's not any better.

Twenty bucks says he beefs it on the third turn, Tommy sends back, before turning off the television and heading towards the shower.

---

There’s a certain artistry to meeting up for drinks with teammates. The dynamics of running into fans has changed, over the years. The social media boom had made it a nightmare for a few years, and Tommy’d spent about five of them walking and talking the faces of the league through panic attacks and generalized anxiety like he was a damn therapist, before he’d discovered that just telling them to go to fucking therapy was enough.

He’d seen a switch after finally escaping the Edmonton bubble, in a world that had spent eight months dialed in to social issues and gained a startling awareness of personal space, so it was a little easier, now, to roll into a bar and meet up with three or four guys without crowds of people demanding selfies. Tommy wasn’t likely to be on anyone’s radar, but he tended to be noticed out in public when he was out with everyone’s favorite.

Today he rolls up with Eddie Diaz in the passenger seat of his truck and hands his keys to the valet. The kid is still sporting a face full of acne, a foot shorter than Tommy and eyeing Diaz curiously as he swivels out of his seat, and Tommy has a moment where he’s sure the kid is gonna forget himself and gush about everyone’s second-favorite d-man in this town, but when his eyes go wide his gaze flicks from Diaz back to Tommy, and Tommy feels completely out of his depth.

“I — sorry, this is so rude, dude, but — you’re my sisters favorite player, man. She’s like, obsessed with you.”

Tommy’s brows go up, and he can feel Eddie’s eyes on the back of his neck as he points at his own chest. “Me?”

“Yeah, man — I mean she sorta hated you when you were with the Kings, but in a weird, like, ero —.” He pauses, and Tommy is grateful for the both of them. “Anyway. She was super excited when we signed you. We were at the St. Louis game. Fucking epic, man.”

Tommy — flounders. It’s been years since he’s gotten anything more than a look of recognition and a glance behind him to see if anyone else has tagged along with him. When Diaz rounds the hood of the truck and smacks a hand firmly down on Tommy’s shoulder, the kid smiles and redirects his gaze straight to Tommy. Which is weird as fuck. What the hell is in the water in this state?

“Thanks,” Tommy says, and Eddie grins charmingly at the kid.

“That’s Kinard, for you. Fuckin’ epic.”

The kid does something complicated with his face, like he’s realized some sort of gaffe, and turns an apologetic look on Eddie. “You’re also, like — I mean you’re great, Mr. Diaz.”

Tommy can’t hide the snort that escapes when Diaz’s face twitches, like he’s trying his very hardest not to react to the name. The kid looks like he’d like the ground to open him up and swallow him whole, so Tommy reaches into his back pocket, pulls a twenty from his wallet, and slaps it in the kids hand before he can say anything else. “Just in case your shift ends before we’re back,” he says, when the kid opens his mouth like he’s going to protest, and Tommy makes a mental note to ask the manager for his name, maybe send the kid a couple tickets to their next home game. Not that the seats need filling, in Denver, but — yeah, he’s a little flattered and it’s always fun to make someone’s day with shit like that.

Tommy shoots the kid finger guns as they say their goodbyes, about half to make the kid feel less self-conscious and half because he’s never been able to break the habit when he’s feeling a little overwhelmed himself. “Tell your sister I said hi,” Tommy says, and it’s Eddie’s turn to snort as they swing through the doors in search of the rest of their party.

---

Ravi’s hands go up the moment he spots them being led through the crowd by the hostess, and he does a celebratory little dance in his seat before he seems to realize his fingers are covered in nacho cheese. Chimney rolls his eyes from Ravi’s left as he reaches for one of the linen napkins on the table, and the woman sitting next to Chimney smiles.

He’d forgotten Chimney was engaged. The last time he’d spent any length of time with Chim, he’d been seeing a girl who didn’t know a single true thing about him.

She’s pretty — long dark hair and deep brown eyes, a quirk to her lips as she smiles at him that feels vaguely familiar, though he can’t quite place it. When he leans in to shake her hand, she introduces herself as Maddie Buckley.

Which he’d known, in the abstract. Of course he’d known, he’s heard Chim and Buck chirping at each other good naturedly for weeks now, really leaning into the idea that they’re soon to be brothers.

She tilts her head to the side, eyes on him as he settles in next to Ravi, Eddie pulling out the chair to his left, and Tommy recognizes that mannerism too — sitting in the locker room after optionals, Buckley already done with his after-practice workout and parked on the bench a few feet away from Tommy (who’d spent the same half hour on the ice taking passes on the move, trying like hell to find a rhythm that could help him keep up with Panikkar) plying him for stories about the year he’d played for the Hershey Bears.

They’re well situated to watch the skills competition, tucked into a corner with a television hanging overhead in every direction, all of them tuned into the pre-show, and as a server comes by to grab their drink orders Tommy stares around the table at the piles and piles of starters laid out and covering most of the available surface area. Chimney clocks his raised brow.

“Listen, there are only so many times a year I’m not under constant threat of death and dismemberment from my future brother-in-law if I so much as think of junk food. Ravi and I are going to enjoy this while we can.”

Maddie tsks. “He’s not that bad,” she intones, although she’s smiling like she’s conjuring a fond memory of her brother being an absolute terror. And it’s not that he hasn’t heard these stories before — Buckley’s sort of renowned for the health-nut thing around the league — but Tommy had also downed three cream cheese pastries with his coffee on the walk back to their hotel rooms, back in Utah, and Buckley hadn’t said a word.

“It’s the silent judging that really gets to you,” Eddie throws in, head tilted up towards one of the TV’s, where they’re showing highlights from the last few All Star competitions.

“He’s never silently judged me in his life,” Ravi contradicts, digging deep into the nachos in search of the strip of chicken buried under the pile. “He’s very loud about it. Whoever gave that man an iPad and Karen Wilson’s spreadsheets should be drawn and quartered.”

“Oooh, are we talking shit about Buckley?” comes a voice from his left, and Lucy Donato sneaks past him to snag a chip from Ravi’s plate.

Donato is technically the most decorated athlete of the lot of them — three golds and a bronze in women’s hockey, Tommy doesn’t have a fucking clue why she’s been an equipment manager for the team for going on four years now but the team loves her, and she seems to enjoy the work. Maybe it’s the roar of the crowd, maybe it’s the camaraderie, maybe the fact that she’d grown up with four brothers factors into it and she’s just happy to have that lovingly antagonistic relationship with the boys again.

“Is this is a safe space to remind everyone that it is not my fault Taylor Kelly wrote that tell-all article for the Athletic?”

At Tommy’s side, Eddie makes a face. “We don’t have to talk about her.”

He’s used to being a little out of the loop, when it comes to the intricacies of team dynamics — every team has groupings of people who live in each others pockets for eight to ten months out of the year, and know a little too much about one another. Tommy’s used to being a witness to it from the outside, to being the aloof mysterious one someone is always bound and determined to crack.

“We could talk about Marisol, if you want,” Lucy says, licking cheese off her finger as she settles into the seat to Ravi’s right, and Eddie shoots her a warning look. “How about Kim?”

“Okay,” Chim interrupts when Eddie opens his mouth to retort. “Hen’s late, but we are still taking bets. Tommy’s got the third turn, my lovely future wife and Eddie are both naïve optimists who think he’s going to learn from last years embarrassment and make it all the way to the end without letting the pressure get to him, I’m going first turn when he tries to build momentum. Ravi, Donato?”

Tommy lets the conversation wash over him. When his drink comes, he doesn’t even get a chance to sip at it before Donato is leaning over the table to steal his spear of cherries. Hen gives the bar-food laden table a raised brow when she arrives with her wife and jumps right into giving Panikkar shit about the condo he’s trying to purchase in one of the nearly-gentrified neighborhoods downtown. When the pre-show ends fifteen minutes later they all turn their attention to the televisions overhead, and Tommy sips at his Old Fashioned, wishing he’d ordered a beer instead.

There’s an element to nights like these that always make Tommy a little wistful. There’s so much history between them all, so much love. Tommy’s not lacking for friends, but he’s never really been a part of something like this. Like family.

When the server comes around to check in about another round, Tommy asks for the beer menu and orders himself an IPA. Anything to keep him from getting too loose-lipped as they cheer on Buckley and McKinley in their skills events.

Buckley eats shit around the third turn in the speed skate, and in his pocket Tommy’s phone buzzes with Venmo notifications as rest of the table grumbles and pays up.

He’s halfway through his second beer, two rounds into the precision shot competition, when Donato rounds on him.

“So. Kinard.”

“Donato.”

Her gaze is assessing, like she’s trying to pin him down, and Tommy has played this game for too many years to do anything but take a steady sip of his beer. “Thoughts on upcoming theme nights?”

Tommy doesn’t particularly pay attention to those. After the shitstorm of the commissioner banning Pride gear, confirming to Tommy that he’d been right, all those years ago, to lean into the toxicity, he’d stopped caring what sweater the equipment team left in his locker for warmups and just tried his best to keep his head down. He spends a long moment holding eye contact, unsure what exactly the line of questioning is about, before Eddie chimes in on his left.

“You do this every time,” he says, finger out, head tipped warningly, and Lucy shrugs, arms up in a gesture of surrender.

“Just trying to take the pulse of things, Jesus. I’m the one that has to deal with it if one of you fucknuts gets too enthusiastic and tapes his stick up in rainbow colors and he throws a tantrum about it.”

Hen and Karen both swivel their eyes to meet his, and the table goes uncomfortably still. He’d been leaning into the misogyny, the last time he’d played for a team Hen worked for, and he’s still not sure if she’d ever noticed how lackluster the comments had been, how close he’d been to finally breaking free of a truly mindbogglingly shitty coaching staff. They’d ended on friendly terms, but other than a few polite questions about her wife, they’ve never really talked about any of that.

Maddie, shockingly, is the one who breaks through the tension. “You went to the Pride parade in Nashville last summer, didn’t you? Buck always makes a note of the guys that do.”

He’d been terrified out of his fucking mind that someone would come to the outlandish (correct) conclusion that he was there as more than an ally, but Tommy didn’t shit where he ate, and Josi drew plenty more attention than he did, anyway.

Tommy nods. “I can tape my own stick and everything,” he says to Donato, brow raised, and she just nods back, apparently satisfied. It’s a relief, even if Karen Wilson has a curious eye on the finger he’s been nervously tapping against his beer since the original question had been posed. He keeps up the tapping for a few more beats.

“Always good to have another ally in the mix,” Hen says, doing something under the table that makes Karen glance away, and Tommy shifts the nerves into pressing his heel firmly into the floor beneath him. He feels like they’re all talking in riddles, trying to piece him together with faulty information, and for a moment, in this little bubble with people who seem to genuinely care for each other, he thinks it’d be easy to just let the cat out of the bag, say the words he’s had on the tip of his tongue for a decade, and in his heart for at least three.

Beside him, Eddie takes another pull off his beer, leans in to Tommy’s side. “Come watch the game at my place tomorrow? Just me and Chris, the rest of these idiots are doing brunch before coaches shindig.”

Tommy sort of desperately wants to tell him that he has a date with his television that he’s already skipped once, but — well, he likes Eddie, and it’d be nice to finally meet his kid. “Will Christopher snitch on us if I bring pizza?”

Eddie grins. “He absolutely will, but Buck’s wrath isn’t enough to stop me. Is it enough to stop you?”

Possibly, Tommy thinks, but instead of admitting that he just asks Eddie to text him his son’s toppings preferences.

---

On the bedside table, his phone lights up, and Tommy turns to grab it, keying in his passcode and frowning at the name on his notifications.

He swipes into his messages and stares at the text for a long, long minute.

Tommy’s never actually come out to anyone in his life. Never said the words, never had them asked — but there are a few people that have figured it out on their own, a few people who have done the work of supporting him while keeping it under wraps.

Sid’s sent him a picture. Not the usual one where it’s mostly his ass in a mirror followed by the number of squats he’s been doing daily. This is a terrible quality photo, shitty lighting in a dark bar, half the screen taken over by a hairy arm because of the angle the camera is tipped at. It’s four in the morning in Tampa, and Sidney motherfucking Crosby has just sent him a selfie of himself with his arm tossed over Evan Buckley’s shoulders.

Both of them are grinning, faces cast in shadow, eyes towards the camera, and Tommy taps into the picture so he can zoom in, stare at the smile lines around his eyes, the edges of a grin — Sid’s smug look like he knows exactly what Tommy had been thinking when he’d asked him to reach out to Buck.

He stares at it until another text comes in.

You should reconsider how off-limits this one is, he won’t shut up about you. Your name has lost all meaning to me.

Tommy swallows. Breathes through his nose, in-out-in-out. Slides his gaze back to the wide smile and rosy cheeks of Evan Buckley, one more time.

Go to bed, old man, he shoots back and closes out the thread.

He stares at the background on his phone: the crest of the hiking trail he’d found, two weeks ago, on a recommendation from Diaz, which he’d hit right at sunset, pinks and oranges and purples bleeding in to the chilly grey-blue sky.

His phone buzzes with another notification, this time from Buck. Tommy considers ignoring it, letting it sit unread at the very least until the morning. His phone buzzes a second time, and then a third.

The first is another picture — better angle, better lighting, better quality in general, exact same pose, including Sid’s knowing eyebrow and the soft sparkle of Buck’s eyes.

You can fly a helicopter? the first text reads, and then, all caps, YOU FLEW CROSBY IN A HELICOPTER ONCE????

Like an idiot, Tommy taps into the picture, presses down, saves it to his phone, and flips back into the thread just in time for another text.

You bet on me falling :(

You WON on me falling :( :(

He should absolutely put his phone down and go the fuck to sleep, but on the off chance that Buckley is stlll hanging out with Crosby, he doesn’t want to ignore Buck. That’d just be rude.

Used the winnings to buy a kid and his sister a suite for the next home game, he shoots back, and ignores the little thrill that shoots down his spine when three dots immediately appear right beneath his text.

That’s annoyingly sweet

Tommy breathes deep. Four-o-nine AM in Tampa. They’ve got a game that starts in less than twelve hours, there. He sends back: Selfish. The sister is apparently my biggest fan.

I’M your biggest fan, comes the text, followed by typing dots. They disappear, then reappear, then disappear again. Tommy doesn’t mean to time it, but thirty seven seconds later they appear again.

Let me know where they’re sitting. I’ll have someone send them your sweater.

then

You wanna sign it first?

Tommy takes a deep breath, and presses the call button.

[idyllic-ghost]

beeeeeee!!! congrats on 2k!!! 🥳🥳 you deserve all of the support and love that you have and so much more!! ❤️❤️

may i request a fluffy smut fake dating au blurb with mingi and prompts 5 & 12 please? 😊🫶🏽

a/n: thank you for this request cherry !!! it was so much fun to write <3

title: wedding buddies

prompts: (5) "I want you to kiss me." (12) "I haven't listened to anything you just said."

pairing: mingi x afab!reader

warnings: smut, p in v sex, afab reader

word count: 2k

MDNI

join in on the celebration!

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Ah, wedding season. That special time of the year, between late spring and early fall, where everyone and their mothers decided to hold their weddings. You had come to that age where you friends and acquaintances were getting engaged and married - and you were just not there yet.

To every wedding you got invited to, you also got a plus one. For the first wedding you just went alone, but the amount of comments you got was enough to make you leave early. Which is why you now had a plan - and his name was Song Mingi.

Mingi was one of your friends, but he was the kind of friend you would usually just hang out alone with. None of your acquaintances, who had invited you to their wedding, knew of him, and your closest friends barely saw anything of him. So, to avoid future questioning, Mingi became your fake boyfriend.

It wasn't difficult to get him to do it, he was promised free food and drinks. What more could he want? Moreover, you got to present a hot boyfriend to all of your friends.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The deeper you went into your lie, the harder it was to deny your growing feelings for you your fake boyfriend. Mingi was so good at acting as your boyfriend that you almost felt betrayed when he'd go back to your normal ways after the wedding.

Now there you were, the last wedding of the month, and drooling over the man that you couldn't have - and you had no one to complain to about it!

Mingi was getting the two of you drinks by the bar, and while he was gone you found yourself fixing your outfit. The need to look good for your fake partner felt stupid, but that didn't stop you from trying. You watched Mingi walk back to you, a big goofy grin on his lips which didn't match the tight black slacks and white button-up shirt he was wearing - three buttons unbuttoned, and his tie just laying around his shoulders. His broad shoulders... Mingi did a little dance, trying to make you smile and succeeding immediately, before he finally got to the table.

"See, the venue might've been worse than the last one." Mingi picked the conversation you had before he left back up. "But I still think this wedding is better- my proof being: open bar!"

"I can't argue with that," you hummed and accepted your drink.

Mingi kept on talking, but you were busy staring at the way his lips moved. Soft and pouty, so incredibly kissable- no. You weren't allowed to think like that - he was your friend! Your buddy! Your pal! So in an attempt to be rational, you looked back up at his eyes. He hadn't noticed you staring. However, he was looking for some sort of answer that you couldn't give.

"Sorry, I haven't been listening to anything you just said," you admitted.

"Yeah I could see that," he said knowingly, "You've been busy."

"Hm?" Your eyes widened.

"You're too obvious when you've been drinking," he said, "Honestly, it makes the acting a lot easier."

You stared at him, wondering if he had managed to figure everything out. Mingi wasn't dumb, by any means, but you didn't think he could figure you out - you were stealthy... right?

"What do you mean?" you murmured.

The music started booming, and people made their way onto the dance floor. You kept looking at Mingi like a deer in headlights. He knew something, but you didn't have time to question it. Mingi stood up and held his hand out to you, leading you out to the dance floor once you had taken it.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The wedding was far enough away from either of your homes that you had decided to book a hotel room together. It was a late booking, and the only room you had managed to get had a king bed. Before this wedding it had been a source of anxiety for you, but now it was convenient.

Mingi's lips stayed on yours while he fumbled with the keycard to the door. He pulled away from you, swearing under his breath and tried one last time to open the door. Slamming the door open, the two of you let out drunken giggles and laughs while you stumbled towards the bed.

"Maybe we should talk about this." Your ass landed on the soft bed and Mingi kneeled before you.

His hands worked on taking off your shoes for you, throwing them behind him when he was done. He stood back up, towering over you, and held your hands in his.

"Is there anything you want to say?" he asked softly.

You stayed quiet, your mind completely blank. Mingi chuckled and pulled his tie off his shoulders, throwing it behind him as well. Without hesitation, your hands went to the buttons on his shirt and started unclasping each one. As his shirt opened up more, you started kissing the revealed skin - leaving lipstick marks across his chest and torso. Mingi took your face in his big hands and made you look at him.

"Talk to me, sweetheart," he murmured, "What do you want?"

"I want you to kiss me again," you admitted in a plea.

Mingi bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, teasing you before going in again. One of his hands went to your back, while the other one leaned on the bed behind you.

"Tell me you want me and I'll give you everything I have," he mumbled against your lips, "You don't know how long I've been wanting to do this."

"I want you."

It came out as a whisper, but you wanted to scream it. His lips attacked your neck, leaving blooming bruises on his path down your upper body. His lips felt like heaven, and you noticed a heat growing from your core throughout your body. When he got to your chest, where your dress started, he stopped.

"Wanna take this off for me?" he asked gently. "Let me see all of you."

You nodded eagerly and stood up on wobbly legs. Mingi worked on getting his own clothes off, laying down on the bed when he had done so. He watched you struggle with your dress, a big grin playing on his lips.

"Don't laugh!" you said as soon as you heard a snicker. "I can't reach the zipper!"

"Come here, sweetheart." He motioned for you to come over.

You stood in front of him and his hands landed on your hips, gently rubbing the skin over the fabric of your dress. He smiled up at you before turning you around. Reaching up, he grabbed the zipper and slowly dragged it down - teasing you.

"Mingi..." you whined.

"Mm," he hummed as he pressed a kiss to your spine, "I love it when you say my name."

You huffed and walked away from him, finally pulling your dress down. Almost instantly, you missed his hands on your hips. When you turned back to the man on the bed he was laying back with a confident smile on his face, cock straining against his underwear. Already, you could tell he was big. You got on top of him, straddling him. Mingi looked at you expectantly. Besides this rather bold move on your part, you had no other plan on what to do. At least you got to feel his hands on your hips again.

"You're even more beautiful than I could've ever imagined," he admitted.

"So you've been imagining me naked?" You grinned.

"Don't act like you haven't done the same to me," he argued.

You scoffed, but couldn't come up with anything else to say - it was true after all. Nevertheless, you had no time to respond because Mingi started grinding your hips against his, using his grip on your hips to get you to move. Strings of swears left your mouth and you leaned against him. You hadn't realized how sensitive you had gotten from his light teasing, but you were practically throbbing. Mingi found your lips again and kissed you, drowning all of your sounds out.

As you started approaching your high, your noises getting louder and your cunt leaking through your underwear, Mingi stopped moving you. Before you could whine and throw a tantrum, he flipped you over on your back.

"Did you bring a condom with you?" he asked breathlessly.

"In my bag."

Mingi quickly went over to your bag and rummaged through it. When he finally found it, he held it up to show you his victory. You laughed as he approached you once again. Your laugh got caught in your throat when you saw the wet spot you had created on his underwear. A big splotch of lust sitting promptly on top of his erection.

"Are you always this prepared?" he teased.

"I wouldn't call it prepared," you said, "Just hopeful."

"I'll answer your prayers, babe, don't worry," he grinned and got on top of you again.

He went to kiss you, but you put your hand in front of his face.

"No more fooling around, I need you to fuck me," you said desperately.

You ended up on your hands and knees, Mingi's cock ramming into you from behind. Each time he pushed inside, it felt like he was tearing you apart. His cock was even bigger than the ego he was going to get from fucking you stupid. Your moans bounced against the walls, filling the room quickly and most likely spilling out from the thin walls. You didn't give a shit, not when he was making you see stars.

"Mingi," you moaned, "Close..."

It was all you could muster saying. Your chest fell to the bed and he took the opportunity to drill deeper into you. It felt like he was in your ribcage, every thrust sending a shock through your body. Your sopping cunt was making sounds you couldn't imagine yourself making. It was crying out for more and more, the sounds of your wetness filling your ears.

"You can cum, sweetheart, I'm not stopping you." Mingi reached around your body and started playing with your clit, rubbing tight circles.

It pushed you over the edge, your body spasming and your legs almost giving out from under you. You let out a shriek as he kept fucking you, chasing his own high. The continued stimulation made your head spin, and you became a wobbly mess of limbs. You didn't even noticed that Mingi had pulled out of you and thrown away the condom. His sweaty body cuddled up against yours, the sudden skin-to-skin contact bringing you back to reality.

"You okay, baby?" he murmured in your ear.

"I'm alright," you breathed out, "Just need a minute."

"Okay, just lay back. I'll get you cleaned up and something to eat."

You felt him leave, and you turned around to put your head on one of the pillows. When he came back it was with a wet towel and snacks he had gotten from the mini fridge. He sat down beside you and helped you clean up.

"Do you have water?" you asked hoarsely.

Mingi reached over to the bedside table, where he had put all of his things, and opened a water bottle for you. You thanked him and sat up to drink.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The two of you were under the covers watching a film on the TV in front of the bed. You had calmed down from your high, and he had helped you get into bed properly. After talking for a bit, both agreeing that "just friends" maybe shouldn't be your title anymore, you decided to watch something until one of you fell asleep.

"You know what's so good about this?" you asked quietly and he hummed, "Now you don't have to pretend to like me at weddings anymore."

"I was never pretending."

[msbarrybeeson]

Princess and Her Matra | Cyno X (F) Reader (Part IV) (Royal AU)

Summary: Sanity slipped from Scaramouche as you, kneeling on the floor, retaliated against his desire to enter the Eternal Oasis. You, carried in the arms of your loyal General Mahamatra, must put an end to the Prince's enraged assault on Setekh.

Relationship: (Bodyguard) Cyno X (Desert Princess) Female Reader

Characters: General Mahamatra Cyno • Matra Dehya (Lionness) • Matra Candace (Priestess) • Prince of Avidya Scaramouche • Avidyan Advisor Il Dottore • Liloupar the Jinni.

Warnings: Minor Character Death.

Word Count: 3070

Parts: One / Two / Three / Four / Five

➵ ➵ ➵

"You're telling us in the one time we were tasked with not watching over you, the Prince held our General Mahamatra hostage, nearly killed him, and coerced you to call this 'magical spirit' to enter some kind of Oasis?"

Dehya gaped in utter shock, while Candace, concerned. Before the latter inquired, you interjected while flipping through pages of a book.

"No, I have not informed my Father yet."

"With all due respect, Your Highness, you should. For one, you have a good reason to get your wedding called off. Two, send them away!" Dehya cracked her knuckles. "I've been waiting to get rid of those numbskulls. Did you see how they've been treating us? We Matra may be soldiers, but calling us 'dogs' is low." She turned to Candace for validation of her point.

The latter, however, noticed your reservation. "Your Highness?"

In your thoughtful silence, Cyno answered, "Her Highness is worried about her people. The whole point of our King agreeing to the arrangement is to save Setekh from dehydration. Knowing the Avidya's malicious intention now, the Prince himself threatened to harm the Setekh if anyone hears of this."

He crossed his arms. "And knowing how he managed to have me tied up so easily, I doubt he was bluffing."

"Don't think we should be giving into his egotism though," Dehya remarked. "He's probably going to assume control of Setekh regardless of whether he enters the Eternal Oasis."

"Do not worry," you assured, speaking up again. "I have a plan."

"I believe it has something to do with that book?"

You nodded. "I have read about the legend of the Eternal Oasis. I do not remember ever it saying the realm grants a God's power." Flipping through the pages. "Though, I do recall reading this Jinni shares a notable power of its own."

"I am guessing that's the 'magical spirit' you were talking about," said Dehya.

"The Jinni had served under the Goddess of Flowers, or Nabu Malikata. Only listens to those worthy, which I assume is whoever is blessed by the Goddess herself." You finally reached the page.

Scanning the words, your fingers paused on an interesting detail. "Just as the Jinni is cautious with its master, the gateway to the Eternal Oasis opens only to those whose heart is deemed worthy," you murmured to yourself.

Suddenly.

You heard loud thuds beyond the library doors, hurrying down the corridor, as if panicked.

You recognized them as footsteps.

"Did something happen outs–?"

A voice boomed, muffled through the door. "The Prince has gone mad!" You also recognized that sound as one of the Matra.

"Defend our King!" shouted another.

Blood ran cold as you picked yourself from the seat, hands on the table. "Father? What's going on?" Your breath became shallow.

All four of you bolted out the library, straight to the throne room. It had not been three days since his arrival, yet somehow, your fiancé had caused unnerving trouble.

There was a dispute. Your eyes darted from the crumbling sandstone pillars to the shredded banners on the walls. Then to the Avidyan Prince, surrounded by his angry Rangers. "You're no Prince of ours!" one Ranger screamed, directing their spear at the young man. "You must be the reason why Lady Rukkhadevata, went missing! You monster!" yelled another.

Dehya was bewildered. "Rangers rebelling against their own Prince?"

"Fools!" Scaramouche seethed, tying up the Avidyan soldiers in his strings. "Completely absurd. You dare disrespect your one and true Prince!? You should be bowing to me!"

One Ranger prepared his bow, his brows furrowed and tall black ears folding back. "As if! You're no Prince of ours if you wanted nothing to do with our forests! We have always taken pride in keeping Avidya alive, yet you are bold enough to tell us to let it wither!" The arrow shot through, but Scaramouche cut it up into pieces with his strings.

Another Ranger leaped up behind him and threw her boomerang.

"Silence!" However, his hand sent her flying back onto the ground with a loud thump. The Prince pulled a set of strings around the Fennec, strangling his throat.

"Your Highness!" Your head turned to find one of your Matra running to you. "You must leave! Run away for your own sake–." His sentence barely finished as Scaramouche cut his body up. The pieces dissipating to blood-red dust. Your eyes widened in horror. Cyno, Dehya, and Candace attempted to retreat you, but Scaramouche sensed your presence.

He eyed you with a crazed smile. "Looks like you're on time, Princess." A sudden movement of his wrist and the strings were attached to you. He yanked you to him.

This prompted the General Mahamatra to shout, leaping to grab ahold of you. "Your Highness!" But more cutting strings appeared, caging he and the other two outside.

"I demand to see my Father! Where is he!?"

"Under close care of my advisor. So there is no need to worry, dear." He held your chin, mocking you.

"Do not lay a finger on him. Or anyone!" You gritted. "What have my people done to you? What have your own done to you?"

"What have they done?" he laughed, turning his back to you. "They failed to know their place." The strings pulled everyone in the throne room up, hanging them on the walls like flies trapped in a web. "I am your true King. Your true God with powers beyond your understanding."

All except you.

"But not enough for you fools to respect me, is that right?" His head snapped back to you, stomping back to your kneeling figure. The Prince snarled. "So you better call that Jinni of yours, or one snap will kill them all."

"You're wasting precious time, Scaramouche." Il Dottore scoffed, stepping in the perimeter. "Slice their heads off them all already. We only require the girl for the Oasis."

"If you choose to kill them all," you picked up a fallen arrow and brought it up to your neck, "I shall end myself as well!"

"(Name)!" Cyno yelled. "What are you doing, (Name)?!"

"Your Highness, our lives are not worth it!"

"We Rangers are not worth your sacrifice!"

"The Setekh needs you!"

Yet your resolve remained.

"Do you dare to gamble with my death, your only chance of reaching the Eternal Oasis?"

"You." Scaramouche's form shuddered as he laughed maniacally.

He laughed.

And laughed.

To the point even you were concerned.

"Haha! You truly are bold, Princess!" He laughed. "To think that these pathetic subjects cared about you so so," Scaramouche swung his hand across your face, "much!" His expression went from laughter to a dangerous scowl.

"How could they worship such a pathetic weakling like you?!" he screamed, slapping your face once more.

This time, you had enough. You etched the arrowhead into your skin, drawing a trickle of blood.

"Enough, Scaramouche!" Il Dottore interjected.

The Prince stopped his hand from throwing another hit.

"Do you, or do you not want to become a God." The question, or more so statement, made the Prince falter. "Hit the girl again," Il Dottore's tone dripped with venom, "and I shall cast you aside as your Creator had done before."

His hand dropped to his side. His knees onto the floor.

And suddenly, the strings on everyone were released.

You closed your eyes, lowering the arrowhead. You heaved, releasing some pressure on your lungs. "I command everyone to leave the palace grounds... Matra, evacuate all Setekhans to Avidya. I urge for the Rangers to provide temporary shelter."

You added, "..Immediately."

Although the named and injured councilmen passed a worrisome glance in your direction, everyone opted to follow your word and flee the throne room.

"General," the Lionness called out.

"Leave me be. Whatever the circumstances, I cannot abandon Her Highness."

The Priestess intercepted, "Then, we shall help you as well."

"No, I have always served as her protector. You two heard her: evacuate the people."

Candace bit her lip and nodded. "Defend our Princess."

"We have released your people. Time is ticking, so you better do what you must, girl." You glared upon Il Dottore's sharp-toothed sneer, carnivorous and predatory. You wanted to fling your hand to his nose.

One glimpse to the side and you found your General. His hand gripping his partisan while positioned defensively. You showed him a weak smile, a sign you knew more than you led on.

You faced forth the thrones, worn away from the chaos ensued while standing tall. You slowly clasped your hands and closed your eyes once again. "Strewing flowers along a path, that which is blessed by the gentle Nabu Malikata herself," you recalled from the book. "I call upon thee, Jinni, to seek my heart's wealth."

All of a sudden...

A blinding light illuminated the throne room, capturing the insatiable eyes of Il Dottore and Scaramouche. A spiral of brilliance glowed before halting in front of you. A brighter flash prompted you to cover your eyes until it dimmed into a bottle. Or perhaps, a bulb made from glass. There was a violet cap on top and a distinguished golden glow inside. For a moment, it trembled, danced frantically until a voice echoed.

"Who has called upon the powers of a Jinni?"

You prayed you were aware of whatever fate you were pulling yourself into. There was a sense of hesitation: "It is I, Princess (Name) of Setekh."

It audibly gasped. "It is a great honor to encounter another member of the Setekhan Royal Family. I shall introduce myself, Your Highness. It is I, Liloupar."

"Enough stalling," Il Dottore interrupted. "I demand you Jinni to bring forth the Eternal Oasis."

In a shade of red, the bottle shook violently. "How audacious of you. I only listen to the commands of those who are worthy and one alone. Who are you to dare order me in front of Setekh's Princess? Oh, I understand. Indeed, you are nothing more but an outlander."

Il Dottore scowled. "Hold your end of the bargain up, Princess."

You rolled your eyes, before facing the Jinni. "Liloupar," you spoke in a gentle voice. "I request of you to show us the entrance to the Eternal Oasis. I entrust you to reveal a heart's truth." For a minute, Liloupar only appeared to stare at you. You felt as if the Jinni was pondering. "Very well," Liloupar hummed. "As you wish, Master."

As the bottle danced in the air, a gateway appeared before them. This garnered a malicious smile from Il Dottore. Scaramouche wasted no time pushing you aside as he hurried to the entrance, only to learn:

He could not pass through.

Stunned, his breathing quickened.

"What is this?"

Panicked.

"Why can I not enter?"

His hands began slamming onto the gateway, like an invisible wall existed there. Liloupar lowered itself into your arms' embrace, vibrating in prideful satisfaction.

"What is going on, Scaramouche? Move along!" Il Dottore reprimanded. "After every resource poured into this project, not another second should be wasted. The Prodigal cannot obtain its full potential without a God's power!"

Enraged.

"Open your eyes! Are you so blind to not see what I am doing?" snarled the Prince. His eyes flickered to yours, violent and crazed. He seethed, "You find this amusing, do you not? Daring to play your absurd games and tricks against me, Princess?" Electricity began to conduct as the floors shook. Sand from the ceilings themselves fell. You tried standing to your feet, but your balance faltered. A voice bellowed:

"I am going to end you all!"

"(Name)!" Cyno grabbed you by your wrist and yanked, ushering you away from the palace. "The palace is no longer safe. We must retreat to the Avidya!"

"Archons!" you cursed. "Is there no end to this tantrum of his?!"

The second you and Cyno touched the final flight of steps, a deafening and thunderous sound quaked the Setekh. You peeked behind to discover that Scaramouche had transformed into an enormous mechanical puppet, demolishing half of your palace in the process. His height as tall as thrice the palace.

Sandstone debris and boulder-like chunks toppled down, nearly colliding into you if it were not for your General wrapping an arm around your waist, picking and carrying you up in his arms. "Hold onto me, Your Highness!"

You yelped, panicking as the Prodigal swung a hand down in your direction. "Cyno! Above us!"

Cyno leapt out of the way as the hand smashed right into many homes and buildings, crumbling them all to dust. Your stomach churned in a sickening feeling, and you prayed to Deshret the Matra evacuated everyone on time.

"Never in my years of serving my masters have I experienced such troublesome events," Liloupar trembled.

"From your right!"

Cyno jumped to the left, avoiding a scorching beam from obliterating you. "Not only his hands!?" You grimaced upon how the Prodigal occupied a wide range of offense. "You cannot outrun him, even if we reach the Avidya!"

"I have my duty to protect you. Until I entrust you under the care of the other Matra, I cannot simply stop when your life is endangered!" he yelled. His amber eyes gazed down into yours. For a brief moment, his features softened up.

You instantly broke contact when a shadow overcasted his features.

"Cyno!" you screamed, tugging on his shoulder. "Above you!"

The Prodigal's hand began to fall with a heavy force. Your General gritted his teeth. His mind came to terms with the unlikeliness of outrunning the strike area, yet his legs pushed further. A booming sound echoed as the edge of the hand pounded into the sand. Your fingertips dug into your palms as you urged, "Cyn–!"

The Prodigal's fingertips were right above you. You felt the wind knocked out of your lungs as your General hurled you tumbling forward. You fell with a weighted thud. The impact casting sand and spinning your head into a migraine.

"Urgh."

Accompanied with a terrible high-pitched ringing in your ears.

"Aurgh."

An awful groan left your throat, leaving you to cough up some sand. Your throat had gone dry when you realized. "No." You screamed his name, "Cyno! You did not dare–."

You witnessed his figure vanish as the Prodigal's hand made full contact with the ground. A disastrous earthquake rumbled Setekh from the force, and a huge gust of wind nearly blinded you with sand.

You found yourself hyperventilating.

Your blood ran cold.

Practically gasping in and out.

You could not move.

Dread painted your eyes.

"This cannot be happening."

You faced down, vision blurry by the second as hot tears trickled down. "Cyno. Cyno." You tried running to him, but your legs were too weak. "Cyno. No. This cannot be happening. Please. Please!" Your hands clenched tightly and you shut your eyes. Voice caught in your throat, feeling like you were going to choke. "Please! No. You said you would protect me no matter what."

Liloupar left your arms, glowing brighter. "Master!"

You slowly opened your eyes again.

And trailed up front.

Your General.

A breath heaved out. More tears fell over your smile. You sighed again out of pure relief, shutting your eyes, "Thank Deshret." Opening up again, confusion soon overtook your features instead.

"Cyno?"

A violet hue shone from the electricity crackling underneath the puppet hand. As the murky fog began to fade, you distinguished another figure, large as the hand trying to crumble them. Only this time, you discovered a pair of claws and tall ears. All in violet and gold.

Your eyes widened.

"Hermanubis?"

The figure's claws shoved the Prodigal's hand off them, another gust of sand hitting your way. Cyno was still there, but the colors around his headdress– which enlarged into some form of a hood or mask– lit up in synchronization with the figure that seemed to possess him.

"Cyno is Hermanubis?"

"No, not himself," Liloupar corrected. "It appears he is a current holder of the Great Priest Hermanubis' power. 'How' he obtained such power is beyond my knowledge." You pursed your lip and huffed, your strength returning to pick yourself up. "There is no time to ponder now. I must help him."

This had the bottle frantically shaking. "But Master! Your own safety comes before his!"

"Liloupar." Your resolve remained strong. "I wish to help him."

The Jinni merely sighed. "Perhaps it is time for me to conduct use of my other assets."

A voice reverberated from inside the Prodigal.

"Unsightly insects!" His hand swung at Hermanubis, who leapt onto the arm and bolted up to strike the head. Scaramouche seethed, "Keep your claws off of me, animal!"

He attempted to snatch Hermanubis off, but the latter jumped to the shoulder and landed another heavy strike to the puppet's spine. Catching him off guard, the Prodigal nearly fell forward.

Another to the head.

Across the face.

Until Scaramouche screamed, enraged.

"Worthless humans should be bowing down to your God!"

He hurled Hermanubis down onto the sand. Giving no time to recover from the impact, the Prodigal ignited a blast. The energy revving from within.

SHATTERS!

Scaramouche audibly hitched his breath as a needle practically stabbed him through the heart. His sights fell to the very Princess he despised, standing in his way. You smirked.

"There's more to me than smile-and-waves!"

You aimed another arrow to the chest. The bow you carried being a metamorphosed Liloupar. "Leave Setekh alone!" Releasing in an instant, the arrowhead struck the heart, pieces of glass breaking off from its outer casing. His emanating power briefly faltered. The Hermanubis figure picked themselves from the sand, their glowing white eyes staring upon you.

"Cyno! Strike the heart!"

The figure silently nodded, leaping back onto the puppet's arm again.

Scaramouche became more agitated. "No!" The Prodigal tried to swing him off, but Hermanubis clutched on, who propelled himself up to thrust a powerful lightning bolt to the puppet's chest. The entirety of the heart case shattered into thousands of pieces.

An energy wave bursted in response.

The puppet began to collapse, but Scaramouche, in his final chance of retaliation, shot a beam in your direction. "I refuse to be brought down alone!" he yelled.

Hermanubis, or rather Cyno, darted to you. Their glowing eyes widened. Their claws dug into the sand and vaulted themselves in desperation to grasp you.

Time slowed down in this very moment.

Hermanubis wrapped you into their claws, right before the light blinded you.

[milfmorrowind]

Catch Me When I Fall (Epilogue)

whoops! I wrote another chapter to this. turns out I had more thoughts. anyway, enjoy!

chapter word count: 4,249

fic word count: 12,658

link to full work on ao3 | parts one two three

When Mailie trudged her way back into the Flagon, Delvin and Vex were waiting for her. Delvin beckoned her over with a wave when he saw her enter and she came without comment, too tired to voice a response.

"You were in there for a while," Vex remarked as Mailie approached.

"Telling him off took longer than I expected," she responded, leaning against the fence surrounding the pool. Mere months ago she would not have trusted it with the weight of a tankard, but one of the first renovations she'd had performed was replacing the existing fence with a newer, taller, and stronger one. She didn't need anyone falling in and catching a cold-- there were children around, for gods' sake.

"I hope you told him what an idiot he is," Vex said as she crossed her arms. "And to never go running off like that again."

Mailie had to smile at that. "I did-- or in so many words, anyway." She suppressed a yawn. "How were things while I was gone?" She didn't really want to ask for fear of an answer that might keep her awake even longer, but she knew she had to.

Delvin set his notebook down onto the table next to him. "We got on well enough. Rune picked up a few interesting items that should fetch us a pretty penny, provided we can find the right buyer. I've got Ton working on connections as we speak. Cynric thinks he's got a lead on a big score, though he's been stingy on the details."

"Meaning he doesn't have them," Vex interjected.

Delvin snorted. "Right you are. We'll see if he actually comes through. Beyond that, business as usual. I'll spare you the details. You can check the ledgers yourself if you want them." Mailie nodded gratefully, knowing she would probably be doing just that. Later.

"Thanks, Del. I need one of you to talk to Herluin and find out what we owe him for supplies. Preferably before he has a chance to think too hard about it."

"On it." Before Mailie even finished speaking, Vex was marching off towards the apothecary's shop. Delvin watched her with an amused expression.

"I don't envy him if he tries to pull one over on her," he muttered.

Mailie snorted. "Me neither. Though a part of me would love to see him try." She rubbed the bridge of her nose. Gods, she was tired.

Delvin raised an eyebrow at her. "Take a seat," he said, pulling out a chair. She all but collapsed into it. He sat down across from and gave her an appraising look. "If you don't mind my saying, boss, you look like you'd lose a wrestling match with a skeever at present. What are you up to next?"

Mailie sighed. Sometimes she was glad that Delvin could read her like book, and other times she hated it. She wasn't sure which it was at the moment. "I don't know. Food, bath, sleep. Haven't decided on the order yet."

"I can help with one of those." Delvin stood and disappeared to the bar for a moment before returning with a bowl of soup, which he placed in front of Mailie. "Eat that, and get some rest. You've earned it."

She managed to let out some appreciative noises before setting upon the soup. It was Vekel's usual, meaning it wasn't anything special, but it was by far the best thing she'd eaten in days. Delvin let her be while she continued eating. When she finished, she stood and left the Flagon, too tired to care that she'd left her dishes on the table. Vekel could hardly complain; he had her to thank for his booming business.

She returned to her bedroom. She slowly pushed open the door to avoid making any noise that might wake Brynjolf. Thankfully, he appeared to be fast asleep.

Mailie shut the door behind her and crept to the other side of the room. Carefully, she removed her borrowed armor and set it atop her dresser. She then undid her braids and combed the tangles out of her hair, wincing at the snags on her scalp. She'd need to properly wash the sweat out of it at some point, but it could wait. Finally, she blew out the candle on her nightstand and crawled into bed.

Brynjolf stirred. "Lass?" he said groggily into the darkness.

Mailie lay down next to him. "Right here," she whispered as she pressed a kiss to his chest.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, humming appreciatively. "S'good to have you here."

She smiled, and draped herself over him. "It's good to be here."

***

The Winking Skeever was alive with activity, but Mailie partook in none of it.

She stayed at her corner table with her cup of mead, overlooking the lively scene on the inn's main floor. It seemed as if every working person in Solitude had elected to spend their gold here tonight, filling the air with shouted conversations and raucous laughter. Which suited Mailie's purposes just fine.

The sound of footsteps came up the stairs. Mailie kept her eyes trained on the bar below her as the argonian crossed the balcony and sat in the other chair.

Gulum-Ei carried his own drink, which he set down on the table. Mailie drained the last of her mead.

"I assume there's a reason for all this secrecy," he murmured.

"Apologies." Mailie put her tankard down. "I wouldn't normally go to these lengths, but I have extenuating circumstances to contend with."

"As long as it keeps me out of the dungeons, I don't mind." Gulum-Ei took a sip of his drink. "What do you have for me, then? I assume it's something good."

"The opposite, actually." Mailie crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair. "I'm looking for something."

"Oh?" Gulum-Ei seemed intrigued. "We get plenty of unusual items passing through Solitude. I'm sure I can help you. What are you looking for?"

Mailie shifted. "Information."

The smuggler rapped his fingers against the table. "On what?"

Mailie leaned over to meet his gaze. "Three weeks ago, the Legion arrested a man breaking into a house near Castle Dour. A Nord, red hair, leather armor. He was badly injured and needed help changing out of his armor before they put him in the cell. I need the name of the guard who helped him."

Gulum-Ei stood. "Wait here."

Mailie emerged from the tavern the next morning. Instead of any of her usual armor, she'd donned a Nordic dress. Whether or not it would make her less conspicuous remained to be seen. She walked down the streets of Solitude, missing the familiar weight of Dawnbreaker on her hip. She was not without substantial protection-- there was a dagger on her waist and in her boot, she had her magic, and these streets were rather safe, besides, but she felt naked without it nonetheless. It had killed her to leave the sword behind in her room at the inn, but she knew it would draw far too much attention.

She spotted her quarry. Gulum-Ei's information had been sound, as usual. The guard was standing near the Hall of the Dead, squinting in the early morning sun. He was younger than Mailie had expected-- she normally wouldn't have been able to tell, but his helm was visorless. Probably a more comfortable option in most circumstances, but on this particular day he was probably wishing for a closed helm, if for no other reason than to block out some of the sun.

Mailie walked over to him. He didn't seem to notice her approach as he stared blankly across the street.

"Good morning, sir."

The man nearly jumped. Clearly, passers by did not often stop to talk to him. "Ah-- Morning, ma'am," he sputtered out. He looked around him, as if expecting to see some kind of emergent situation occurring behind her. "Can I... help you with something, ma'am?"

Mailie folded her hands in front of her. "I do hope so," she said. "I believe I find myself in a situation in which--" She glanced over her shoulder, then stepped forward and lowered her voice. "Might I speak to you in private, sir? It's a rather delicate situation."

The guard blinked. "Certainly," he said in an uncertain voice. "I, er-- Let me take you to the fort, ma'am."

They walked up the streets to Castle Dour. In the courtyard, a few guards milled about, practicing with bows, swords, and axes. The guard led Mailie past them and through the door to the castle's interior. Once inside, he turned and led her down the stairs to the barracks. A few people looked at them curiously as they passed, but none seemed to pay them much mind. Finally, the guard opened a door to a small side room, and Mailie followed him inside.

He shut the door behind them. The room was windowless, though a pair of candles provided enough light to see. "I don't believe I caught your name, ma'am," the man said as he removed his helmet.

"Amelie." Technically not a lie.

"A pleasure to meet you then, Amelie. The name's Erik." He gestured to a table behind him. "Please, have a seat."

Mailie shook her head. "No, thank you." Refusing him was a gamble, she knew, but she didn't want anything between her and the door.

He looked at her curiously, but did not press the issue. "Suit yourself." He put his helmet down on the table. "What can I do for you, ma'am?"

Mailie placed her hands over her belt, fiddling with the fastening. "I don't know if you'll have heard, but... a few weeks past, a man was arrested near Castle Dour. I don't know if he'll have given his name, but it's Brynjolf. My understanding is that he was hurt quite badly and needed some assistance-- perhaps you heard some of this from the guard who helped him?"

Erik's jaw moved silently for a moment as he stared at her. "I did hear of it, ma'am. Well, in a manner of speaking. I was the one who helped him."

"Oh!" Mailie feigned surprise. "I suppose I can cut to the meat of it, then. I know it's a lot to ask, but is there any chance that I could see him?"

Erik's whole body seemed to tighten. "I'm afraid that's not possible, ma'am."

Mailie looked down. "Of course. I understand. Security is very important, especially with the war on. I'm sorry to ask this of you, but would you take a message to him, at least? I would not ask under normal circumstances, but..." She pressed her hands to her stomach and let her cheeks redden. "As I said, it's a rather delicate situation."

"I--" Mailie thought that Erik's face might be redder than her own. "I'm afraid I can't do that either, ma'am, though not for the reason you might think. Brynjolf disappeared from the dungeons not long after he was captured."

"I see." Mailie put on her most crestfallen expression. "Thank you for your help, sir. You have been most kind." She dropped her hands and turned to leave.

"Wait." She turned back around. Erik looked positively terrified. She wondered if he'd even meant to speak.

"Yes?" she said hopefully.

Erik looked to be at a loss for words. She was close. She stepped forward so that she was barely a foot away from his face.

"Sir-- Erik, if I may-- I don't mean to press you, but I find myself in a very difficult situation. I will likely never see that man again. If there is something you wish to tell me--" She placed a hand over her chest. Below it, her heart beat a steady rhythm, but more importantly, the Amulet of Articulation pressed against her palm. "I would very much like to know it."

The guard looked down at her. Mailie could almost see the turmoil in his head. Finally, he reached inside his uniform and pulled out a small object, wrapped in cloth. Without a word, he pressed it into Mailie's hand.

"You should go," he murmured.

Mailie stepped back and nodded. "That I will. Thank you, sir."

***

The walls of the Ratway were, predictably, wet. For once though, Mailie did not particularly mind. She walked briskly down the winding halls, barely even noticing the weight of her pack. When she finally reached the office door, she entered without knocking.

Brynjolf sat behind the desk. He looked up at the sound of the door with the most disgruntled expression Mailie had ever seen him wear.

"Welcome back," he said sullenly. The desk before him was littered with papers, books, and a sprinkling of coins, but was dominated by a heavy leather-bound ledger.

Mailie walked around to his side of the desk. She slipped her pack off her shoulders and dropped it onto the floor, then shoved a few items to the side and closed the ledger so she could perch on the edge of the desk. "Has Delvin seen what you've done to his books?"

Brynjolf crossed his arms. His leg, still splinted, was propped up on a short stool. A pair of crutches leaned against the wall behind him. "As a matter of fact, he has."

"And he let you live? Clearly you're more charming than I thought."

"I'm charming enough. At least for you, it seems."

Mailie smiled and dropped off the desk. Brynjolf tilted his head up into her hands as she leaned down and kissed him. His hands went to her waist and pulled her in close.

"Hm." Mailie tucked his hair behind his ear after retreating from the kiss. "For future reference, I greatly prefer this to the welcome you gave me."

Brynjolf's thumbs rubbed circles into her sides. "I don't know if you've noticed, lass, but I'm a tad limited in my movements." He shifted his splinted leg. "Sorry to disappoint."

Mailie rolled her eyes, but sat down on top of his leg-- the good one. Brynjolf wrapped his right arm around her waist to hold her steady.

"How were things while I was out?" she asked, still playing with his hair.

"Fine." He shifted forward a bit so he could lean back, giving Mailie more room. "Nothing of note, really."

Mailie finished with his hair. "Does whatever broke Vipir's nose count as 'nothing of note' to you, then?"

"If by that you mean his own stupidity, then yes. He managed to lift an entire book out of a mage's pockets without rousing a bit of suspicion, then tripped on his own feet two streets away. You should have seen him when he got back. Thrynn nearly fell in the water, he was laughing so hard."

Mailie winced. Vipir's nose would be fine, but she was a bit concerned about what might be in that book-- and even more so with who he may have taken it from. She resolved to ask him for details later.

"I'll take your word for it." She cupped his face in her hand and stroked her thumb gently back and forth across his cheek. Brynjolf was never especially attentive in maintaining his beard, but he'd let his whiskers grow even longer than usual in the week or so that Mailie had been gone.

"After all this time, you finally take me at my word." He tilted his head to the side to let her fuss over his cheek. "And what adventures did you find yourself on this time, lass?"

"Running back and forth across the whole damn province, mostly," Mailie grumbled. "I've cleared Herluin's bounties in Whiterun and Winterhold, but Ulfric's steward is proving difficult. I might actually have to prove his innocence to get it taken care of."

Brynjolf looked at her skeptically. "You sure he is innocent, lass? I'm not saying I don't trust him, but I wouldn't leave him alone with my porridge, if you catch my meaning."

Mailie shrugged. "Innocent may be something of a stretch, but I know he didn't kill the man in question. Directly, at least. I'll speak with him about it later. Hopefully he can provide some helpful information, or at minimum a convincing lie." She leaned in until her face was finger's breadth away from Brynjolf's. "But that's a task for another time. For now, I have more pressing concerns."

When she brought their lips together into a kiss, Brynjolf's arm tightened around her waist. She let him pull her in against his chest as she continued to run her fingers over his scraggly beard. His hand rested comfortably on her knee, stabilizing her as she balanced atop his leg.

They came apart for just a moment. Brynjolf's fingers dug into Mailie's side, but she barely even felt them.

"I missed you," he whispered against her lips.

Mailie smiled. "I missed you too," she whispered back, tilting her head in for another kiss.

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Mailie jumped off Brynjolf's lap with a barely concealed yelp of surprise and brushed herself off. "Come in!" she called, hoping whoever was outside didn't think anything was amiss.

Vex strolled into the room with her usual composure. "Oh good. You're both here," she remarked. "Get to the Flagon when you can. Cynric came through on that score he was going on about, and I want to show you the details." She looked them over and raised an eyebrow. "Do I want to know why you're both looking at me like that?"

Mailie shook her head and prayed fervently that her cheeks weren't as red as they felt. "Don't worry about it. We'll be along in a bit, I want to finish looking over the books."

Vex shrugged. "Suit yourself. Enjoy your numbers." She left the room, closing the door behind her.

Mailie turned around to see Brynjolf looking at her with an amused expression. "It's not funny," she insisted, but his grin only grew wider at her indignation. "Brynjolf!"

He chuckled, which did nothing to calm her. "You have to admit, lass, it is a bit amusing. You're redder than a tomato."

She leaned back against the desk with a scowl. "You're insufferable."

He winked. "You love me for it."

She did, but she wasn't sure she could say so at the moment without it coming out as a smart remark, so she kept quiet. Her fingers drummed along the edge of the desk. "Bryn, can I ask you something?"

Brynjolf leaned back and rested his elbow on the back of the chair. "I serve at your pleasure, Princess."

Mailie didn't have it in her to roll her eyes. She looked down at the floor, suddenly doubting herself. Brynjolf seemed to notice her consternation and straightened a bit.

"What's on your mind, lass?"

She took a deep breath. "When did you know?"

"That I loved you?" he asked quietly. She nodded, not trusting that anything she tried to say would leave her mouth willingly.

Brynjolf paused to think. "I've two answers," he said after some consideration. "When you and Mercer went missing... I suppose that's when it started. I knew you could both take care of yourselves, but couldn't for the life of me work out why he wanted you to settle the score with Karliah. If I'm honest, I spent the whole time I was searching for you steeling myself to tell him off for it." He snorted. "In a way, I did, eventually. But to answer the question of when I knew for sure... I suppose it's when we made you guildmaster." His jaw was tight, and Mailie though she saw him grind his teeth. "It-- something changed in you that day, lass. When I put that amulet around your neck, all I could think of was how far you'd come, and how proud I was." His voice broke off a little at the end and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "What about you?"

Mailie knew she couldn't very well skirt the question after that. "I-- I don't think I realized until I heard you'd been arrested. I didn't think much about it, I just had to find you. You knew that, though." Her cheeks were burning redder than ever. "As for when it all began... it was Karliah. I didn't think anyone would believe her, Bryn, but you did. I--" Her words were failing her. She nudged at his leg with her foot. "You're a good man, Brynjolf. Better than you know."

He looked away. They were terrible at this. Mailie bit her lip. There were a hundred things she could say, but not one of them felt right, and every one was harder to say than the last.

"We should go see Vex," Brynjolf said finally. He moved as if to grab his crutches.

Mailie scrambled off the desk. "Wait." She'd forgotten half the reason she came in here in the first place. She rifled quickly through her pack and retrieved a small cloth bundle. "Here, I have something for you," she said, and handed to Brynjolf.

He looked at her curiously. "What is it, consolation for my leg?" He began to unwrap the bundle. "I'll admit you've surprised me, but it's not much substitute--" He froze.

Mailie watched with bated breath as he unfolded the cloth. Her hands were on the verge of trembling, so she clasped them in her lap. The cloth fell to the floor, ignored as Brynjolf laid his father's amulet across his palm.

Mailie drew in a shaky breath. "I'm sorry to spring this on you. I meant to tell you when I came in, but--"

She was cut off by Brynjolf launching himself at her. She caught him as he fell forward against her and would have toppled over if it weren't for the desk behind her. She would have scolded him for being so careless of his leg, but he pulled her into a kiss before she got the chance.

His hands cradled her head gently as he placed kiss after kiss on her lips, cheeks, nose, jaw, and every other inch of her face he could reach. The amulet's cord was looped around one of his fingers and bumped against her back with every movement, but Mailie barely even noticed. For once in her life, she let someone else shower their affections over her without hesitation. Her hands were braced against his shoulders with just enough strength to keep him balanced on his good leg, but she otherwise let his lips wander over her face.

It took him a while, but Brynjolf eventually remembered that Mailie needed to breath. He ceased his attentions and leaned his head back enough to look her in the eyes. "How?" he whispered in a voice full of wonder.

She placed one of her hands over his heart. It beat like a drum inside his chest. "Gulum-Ei found me the name of the guard who helped you out of your armor," she said. "And told me his schedule. I found him and convinced him to give me the amulet."

Brynjolf shook his head in disbelief. "I was certain he'd have gotten rid of it as soon as he could. It's not worth much, so he couldn't have sold it, especially not in Solitude. I've been imagining it at the bottom of the ocean more often than I'd care to admit."

"You'd be surprised what people are willing to buy," Mailie muttered. As if he didn't know that.

Brynjolf shook his head again. "What did you even say to convince him to hand it over?"

"I told him I was carrying your child."

Brynjolf choked. "That was your solution?" he sputtered.

"It worked," Mailie said with a shrug. "And I more implied it, anyway."

Brynjolf eyed her with a trepidacious look. "Just so we're clear, lass, you're not--?"

Mailie rolled her eyes. "Obviously not, Bryn. Do you really think that's how I'd tell you?"

He shuddered. "Forgive me for choosing to not give it too much thought."

Mailie chuckled. The hand holding Brynjolf's amulet had gone from her cheek to the table beside her to support his weight. Almost instinctively, Mailie rested her own hand on top of it. He lifted it from the table and laced their fingers together, then brought their hands to his lips and kissed the backs of Mailie's knuckles.

Mailie let her fingers slip out of his. They tangled in the amulet's cord as she lifted it from Brynjolf's hand and slipped it over his head. The amulet thumped against his chest, and she took his face in her hands and brought him into a soft kiss.

"Thank you," he whispered, resting their foreheads together.

Mailie kissed him on the tip of his nose. "Don't mention it."

Brynjolf's hands settled on her waist as he nuzzled along her jaw. "How long do you think we can keep Vex waiting before she sends someone after us?"

Mailie snorted. "I think she's far more likely to proceed without us." She stroked Brynjolf's cheek with her thumb. "We should go to her. I'd like to see if this score is as good as Cynric seems to think it is."

"Very well." Brynjolf leaned back. "Shall we pick this up later, then?"

Mailie rolled her eyes. "Not sure I have much choice in the matter, seeing as you've been sleeping in my bed." She dropped off the desk and handed him his crutches. "You need to shave, by the way."

[zoeysdamn]

Headcanon (crack): Wednesday’s characters being drunk

Don’t ask me why. @beggingforxavierthorpe​ and I talked and boom -- crack thoughts, you know the drill

Wednesday: 

Doesn’t get drunk easily, is used to fancy wines from family dinners; it takes around a whole bottle to get her tipsy.  

Prefers old age whisky (or nail polish remover)

Blunt af – even more than usual it is

But it also means blunting compliments

“Your dress is nicely complimenting your body, Enid”

“....I’m sorry wHAT– “

“I said what I said”

0 sense of danger

Like, none

Would accept any dare, I swear to god

“Hey Wednesday, bet you can’t walk barefoot on that electric line”

“Hold my beer–” 

Probably confessed a hella lot of personal stuff to Thing without realizing it

(he’ll keep it to himself, he’s not suicidal)

If she tolerates a hug more than 5 seconds, she’s wasted 

Enid: 

Can hold her liquor for like three cups top – after that she’s a goner

Will deny she gets drunk 

Switch between sad drunk, happy drunk, and cuddly drunk

Also will fight God in a fistfight on her 6th drink 

Sad drunk Enid will cry her heart out and cuddle you over any random subject. Last episode of her favorite show? Yep. The caramel dessert at the cafeteria at lunch? Absolutely. Yoko wearing the same outfit as her at the last party? She’ll cry on your shoulder. Mommy issues? bOI bring the tissues. 

Karaoke is a must do; don’t tempt her with a mic, you’ll have the full Taylor Swift discography blasted ‘til daylight 

Came become suspicious of everyone on her top drunk state: she’ll be sure one of the guest is actually principal Weems in disguise 

Probably had show her boobs on top of a table for fun (sober Wednesday had to pull her down)

Gets whiny when the alcohol starts to wear off 

Already ended up asleep upside down in a bathtub – somehow always wakes up in her bed 

Ajax: 

Mildly light weight; can hold his beer as much as he wants, but anything stronger and he’s gone. 

At 3 drinks he thinks he’s a good singer; at 5 he’ll demonstrate it (he’s not) 

Definitely an affectionate drunk 

Will hug anyone – anyone

The only person who had tackled Bianca Barclay into a surprise hug and lived 

Bc drunk Ajax is a gentle giant too cute for his own good

Actually managed to get away after being busted by Ms Thornhill as he stumbled drunk in the school’s corridor 

Asks the dumbest yet most legit questions

“So snakes are basically walking on their bellies?”

“D’you think Weems can have a baby with herself? I mean theoretically–” 

“If I stone someone during sex and pull out, do I pull the sword out of the stone?” 

Loves everyone, will die for everyone if you ask enough (just ask him)

Saw a bearded man once and hugged him while crying “Dumbledore, you’re alive!!” 

Xavier and Yoko filmed the scene; it’s an official meme of Nevermore now 

Harder drunker, so somehow the best at knowing all the tricks how to handle hangovers 

Will leave ibuprofen and bottles of water in the bathroom every time the party’s in his room

Xavier: 

Also familiar with fancy drinks (family dinners and all)

Ajax definitely made fun of him during their first time drinking together because of that 

Will defy anyone in a drinking contest – will most likely win but at what cost 

Knows when he’s drunk, will have another drink to celebrate it 

Needs no more than 3 drinks to dramatically turn to Ajax singing like he’s a judge in The Voice 

Hair has no rule anymore: past 5 drinks, Xavier will let anyone try any hair style on him – should he end up with a palm tree hairstyle (he definitely did. Multiple time.)

Instaured a socks race with Enid to establish a winner in beer pong in case it ends in a tie

The scale of drunken Xavier can be established by the corny nicknames he uses: babe, sweetheart? Getting tipsy. Muffin, baby doll? Drunk. Sexy cake, pudding, honeybun? Definitely drunk. Baby boo, Sugar pie? Bro you’re wasted af, drop this drink right now and stop trying to hit on the coat hanger.

Emotional drunk; the daddy issues WILL show and the emo playlist will be brought up.

Also somehow a bitchy drunk. Will make a gossip club with Yoko and Wednesday on the spot to bitch about every single guest while sipping mojitos and margaritas. 

Bianca: 

Will drown a bottle of tequila without blinking an eye and then recite an entire Shakespeare sonnet without stuttering 

Slightly emotional drunk, but also a loud drunk

Like, legit sounds like Cardi B laughing while drunk – a hyena

Brutally honest with you, but more prone to help you after a few drinks 

Dance monster on her 4th drink; don’t try to stop her getting on the dancefloor 

Taster of every new mix by Yoko; she has excellent cocktail tastes 

Will cry watching ‘Monsters Inc.’ on her 5th drink, will absolutely trash talk the little mermaid tho

The strongest drinker – it takes a lot to actually get her drunk

So she always end up being the referee to all drinking games (which she’s most likely to have instigated)

Have tons of pics of her friends during their drunken antics – goldmine. 

Mama bear taking care of the drunk crew 

Tyler: 

No filter whatsoever

Will either broke down into tears or unleash anger 

Would fight anyone too 

Not a lightweight but doesn’t know how to handle the amount of liquor he’s drinking 

Conspiracy theories after the 5th drink. So. much. theories. 

Had improvised a drunk strip tease once; will not do that again (for free)

Actually received a lot of compliments after that

The official coffee supplier of the crew on hangovers 

“Give me a pint of that coffee, Galpin” 

Around 4am, he’s usually taken by the urge to stress/hangover clean everything. Will do all the dishes to sleep off the alcohol. 

Will alternatively flirt or try to fight everyone, no middle ground 

He’ll actually defend any of his drunk friends being harassed 

High chances he’d join the bitch club too; Enid once photoshopped his, Xavier, and Yoko’s faces on the ‘Mean girls’ poster

(every one of them had secretly that printed in their locker)

Also a mother hen – at least he tries

Bonus: Principal Weems

Did indeed transform herself into a student to attend a party 

Quickly understood why she preferred a glass of Chardonnay in her cozy office

The sole time she threw up after a party thanks to cheap vodka

Also had to purposefully ignore some students after that – some pictures can’t be erased 

[k-montes-26]

The living room was tense as Jimin's voice boomed, "You have a boyfriend?" His body language was rigid, his eyes ablaze with intensity, as he forcefully struck his palm against the coffee table, the sound echoing through the room.

“Had.” Abigail corrected her brother.

“And that fucking asshole cheated on you?” The handsome man with his golden locks was consumed with fury. His little sister had appeared in the doorway moments ago, and all hell had broken loose. She was crying, an unusual sight, especially in front of others. Jimin could count on one hand the number of times he had seen her cry since childhood. When she was younger, she used to cry a lot, but that was understandable given what she had gone through at such a tender age.

“I hope you punched his face or, even better, his balls!”

The irritation was written all over Abigail's face. She blinked at her brother a few times until she opened her mouth. “I'm not a violent person, Chim.”

Abigail was uncomfortable as she sat in a room with three pairs of dark eyes staring at her. Jungkook, seated on the right next to her, let out a frustrated huff and slammed his back against the armchair. Taehyung, on the other hand, remained silent, but his unwavering gaze never left the girl before him.

Jimin, Abigail's brother, paced up and down the room with a deep frown, clearly agitated by the situation. "Gail, that was a situation to get violent. He deserved it. Fuck, you flew more than eight hours to see him!” He sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his blond locks, the same color as their mother's and older sister's.

The sound of Taehyung's deep voice made her shift in her seat. She could feel the intensity of his presence as he watched her. "Why are you here, Galileo? Summer break hasn't even started yet!" he exclaimed with a boldness that caught her off guard. Despite her stoic nature, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at his audacity. She wondered how he managed to be so carefree and unapologetic all the time. And the nickname he gave her made all the hair on her body stand right up.

The men's eyes fixed on her, waiting expectantly for a response. Abigail took a moment to compose herself, closing her eyes for a brief second and taking a deep breath. Then, in a calm and confident tone, she revealed, "I had intended to tell him that I received an acceptance letter from Harvard College.”

Everyone in the room was still for one- two- three- heartbeats when suddenly, Jimin and Jungkook let out a loud whoop of excitement, their faces breaking into huge grins. They jumped up and embraced each other tightly, their excitement barely contained. After a few moments, Jimin turned to his sister and swept her up in a tight embrace, twirling her around like a fluffy ball. “I knew you would make it!”

However, when he put her back down on the ground, she felt a wave of nausea wash over her. Jungkook, seeing his chance, stepped forward eagerly to do the same, but she quickly held up her hand, stopping him in his tracks. "Don't touch me," she said firmly, "I hate physical contact!”

More laughter filled the room. “Gods, how did you get a boyfriend when you don't like to be touched?” Jungkook patted her head gently instead and brushed his mouth teasingly against her ear, “You haven't changed a bit, Abs.”

Her elbow met his ribs, and Jungkook huffed a joyous giggle. Abigail's gaze went to the man sitting on the armchair, his hands in his pockets and the goddamn piercings stained through his black shirt, doing nothing to hide the sinful jewelry. She was happy he and Jungkook put on a sweater after all. Taehyung was always the quiet one in the trio; he was the cranky bad boy, the opposite of Jungkook's quirky and loud persona, but they were equally famous with the girls, well, even with the boys.

They never showed interest in boys, though. Maybe they hid it from curious eyes. All Abigail could remember was that she had seen them, including her flirty brother, with girls all the time. Their school was in the same building as hers, so she heard many rumors about the trio’s achievements and skills. Her stomach turned at the thought of it. She shook her head to get rid of the imagination and studied her brother's apartment.

Dirty dishes, clothes, and trash were tossed around the place. Her toes curled up in disgust at the sight of their kitchen counter. Jimin was never the cleanest person, so weren't his friends. She even caught a glimpse of red lace underwear on the kitchen counter. “Eew, is that a slip?” The guys followed her gaze and landed on the counter. A grin decorated their faces in amusement.

Jungkook walked toward the tiny red material and hooked it with his fingers. Abigail’s lips creased in disgust at seeing the material hanging on his tattooed fingers. “This is a thong, Abs, not a slip!”

“It is what it is. Something to wear underneath and not to decorate your counter where you eat.” She inhaled sharply as she went on. "That's gross!”

“Well, I think someone had a fabulous meal on top of this_”

“Gross, gross, gross!” Abigail interrupted Jungkook from talking and covered her ears with her palms. Jungkook, however, laughed wholeheartedly, took a deep sniff of the red lace cloth, and put it in one of his pockets. “Chim, can I stay the night?” Abigail asked as she was already headed toward his room. Jimin nodded immediately, and that was all she needed before she entered his room and closed the door with a light thud.

The room was silent for a moment as the three men adjusted to the information Abigail had dropped on them. “You think she's okay?” Jungkook asked carefully after gulping a glass of water down his throat.

Jimin shook his head and folded his arms before his buffed chest as he answered, “I don't think so. She may look fine on the outside, but she's a master at hiding her feelings.” He was Abigail’s confidant, someone she always went to when she needed to talk. She emptied her heart to him, especially during the most challenging time.

She was still a kid back then, but she couldn't talk to their parents. They were so busy searching for a solution, someone who could help her, that they forgot to stay with her when the medication hit her, and she hurled her guts out. Or when she wanted to get rid of her hair because they were falling out, she couldn't stand to wake up every morning seeing she lost more of her dirt-blond hair. Jimin was the one who took her to the nearest hairdresser and held her hands when tears streamed out of her beautiful amber-colored eyes.

Abigail loved her lengthy hair, although she had always complained about the color. She wanted them to be as golden and shiny as their mothers. Hers were not blond yet not brown either; it was somewhere between.

Jimin saw the slow change in her eyes. He saw how, with every session, the light in her vanished. Abigail was a quirky kid, always had a bright smile on her face, and her sass would be dangerous if she had kept that fire till now. At some point, she locked herself completely. She stopped shedding tears because she knew it saddened their parents when she was hurt. So, she pretended she wasn't in pain and decided to stay quiet when she struggled through a thunderous hell of pain. She was only eight years old then.

“Bro, you okay?” Jungkook questioned when he noticed Jimin’s face was losing color. The man played the ring in his bottom lip with his tongue and plunged onto the couch beside his blond friend. They shared glimpses of encouragement.

Taehyung played with the tiny ring on the chain around his neck and hummed. “Give her time, mate, she will be okay.” Jimin nodded at his friend's remark, and before he could lose himself again, his bedroom door opened. Approaching steps were audible when Abigail stood in the middle of their kitchen, rubber gloves on, a towel on her shoulder, and brushes of all kinds in both of her hands.

Without an announcement, she threw all the empty boxes and bottles into separate bags.

“Wow, she is separating the trash?” Jungkook clasped his chest dramatically as he watched the girl work inch by inch through the chaos.

“As we all should!” Taehyung added and got a weird look from Jungkook as if saying really, we never did. Taehyung stood up, collected the clothes on the floor, and turned on the music through the speakers. Somehow, he waited for a reaction or a scolding, but Abigail didn't. That was when he noticed her earbuds. He smiled and muttered, “I'm curious if she's listening to science now.”

Jimin was about to grab his things for the shower but answered his curious friend, “Nope, I think she's listening to an audiobook. She loves that shit—fantasy stuff about demons, angels, wolves, and fae. I tried to listen to it, but that was nothing for me.” he sang the last words as he locked himself in the bathroom.

Jungkook and Taehyung helped Abigail clean up the mess they had left for a week. Neither of them liked it, and it always ended in chaos till one decided to start the cleaning. The guys were humming to the blasting music, entirely consumed by the melody and beat. Jungkook took all the trash bags and exited the apartment to throw them out.

Their apartment was finally clean and smelled of citrus and mint. It had never smelled like that when they cleaned. Just as Taehyung wanted to grab a drink from the fridge, he noticed that Abigail wore Jimin’s shirt and sweatpants. A grin creased on his lips. The girl was swimming in her brother’s clothes.

“Didn't you bring a little suitcase?” Taehyung teased behind her; his voice was low with a hint of amusement. Abigail put one of her earbuds out and turned to look at him, confused. "You're wearing Jimin's clothes; it's too big on you. Don't you have your own clothes?”

Abigail blinked a few times, considering what to say, but she bluntly said, “Those clothes would be inappropriate to wear in front of my brother and his guy friends, I suppose!” She held his gaze behind her glasses a little longer than he was used to. Taehyung wondered how she could stay so still without showing a fling of emotions—a straightforward, striking face.

The man’s nostrils flare, trying hard not to react to her statement. His mind went to places where it shouldn't go. Pictures of his best friend’s little sister in sexy lingerie were undoubtedly forbidden. He wished he could've pulled on her hair tie, to see her wild hair down. Taehyung remembered she had big waves. He once saw her in the middle of the night, in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water—she didn't notice him then; it was dark, and he was hiding with Jimin and Jungkook as they sneaked some girls in the basement.

Their hormones then were crazy and at their peak. As teenagers, they had the worst ideas, and often, to Abigail’s dismay. No wonder she had ignored them whenever Jungkook and Taehyung stayed for the weekends in Jimin’s basement.

A buzzing sound interrupted the silence. Taehyung watched Abigail pick up her phone. She was reading a message but tossed her phone back to the counter right after. She plugged her earbuds back in and pushed the play button. The message was still visible, and Taehyung couldn't help but read it. It was from her ex-boyfriend, Rhys.

‘Hey, darling, I'm exhausted. I have been working on a presentation till now. What are you doing? Missing me? I wish I could hold you.’ *heart emoji*

Taehyung scoffed at the message; something inside him was raging. Rhys didn't deserve Abigail— he thought to himself. Holding her? What the heck? He was holding a woman, straddling his lap while his girlfriend watched. For fucks sake. Taehyung picked up the phone, shifted closer to Abigail, took a picture, and typed a message.

‘Not your darling anymore. Caught you cheating, you prick!”

The phone buzzed immediately; a new message chimed in, and Jungkook entered the apartment while Jimin exited the bathroom. Taehyung watched Abigail read the messages with anticipation and smiled when he got the reaction he aimed for.

“What have you done?” She turned to the man standing behind her, his smirking face on full display. Her eyes were wide, and her brows furrowed in anger.

“Helping you!” Taehyung replied.

“Helping me?” Abigail’s voice was louder than usual. Jimin and Jungkook shared a confused look before glaring at their friend as she continued. “You made things worse. Now he thinks I am cheating!”

“Gail, what happened?” Her brother asked and approached the two fighting humans, as in his sister and his best friend.

Abigail held her phone to Jimin’s sight, “This happened!” Her brother's and Jungkook's eyes opened wide, amusement creasing up on their lips as they looked at a photo of Taehyung placing a kiss on top of Abigail’s hair. But what cracked them up in laughter was the message under the picture.

‘MINE!!!’ *middle finger emoji*

[anukulee]

Enchanting

Three Times Enchanting and One Without

Lilith Hansdóttir couldn't compare to Loki Odinson, and while most might be discouraged by that fact, Lilith wasn't. At least so she made it appear, for while Lilith might appear to be fine with it, as with everything there was a second side to the story. For Lilith couldn't always be second best given her title as Lilith Hansdóttir soon to be a goddess of enchantment. As she would be one of the few aside from Frigga who would be able to match Loki in terms of seider at least so she hopped. Yet things didn't seem to be going that way at least so it seemed, but we will get to that for this is the story of Loki Odinson later Friggason god of mischief and lies, and his wife Lilith Hansdóttir goddess of enchantment and trickery.

For as long as Lilith Hansdóttir can remember, she has been told that one day she would be able to rival, even Loki in terms of seider and enchantment. Yet for just as long as she could remember she has failed to do so. Even from the first time she met Loki at the tender age of 600. She had been sent to study under Queen Frigga, for her father's knowledge of seider was running out. To him, if she was destined to be on an equal level with the second prince of Asgard it only seemed right that she be trained by the same woman. Yet despite Lilith inhabiting a room in the Asgardian place, her contact with Loki had been few, through her encounters with both Thor had more than she had with Loki. While Lilith was rather disappointed that she was unable to meet Loki. Other parties were far more displeased than her. In fact, Lilith could remember a particular dinner, that occurred soon after she had arrived, one that wasn't pleasant.

That Dinner

At the time Lilith had yet to meet Loki as every time, he managed to slip away much like a serpent, even when he made his appearance to stab Thor. He always seemed to be gone before Lilith could reach the scene. He had even managed to slip by the dinners that Odin would hold, claiming he had more studies to attend to, something that Queen Frigga would always allow despite Odin's displeasure. Something he made clear that he had because until then everything had been pleasant until it wasn't...

Almost every member of the royal family had gathered at the table, just as they did nearly every night since Lilith arrived. Odin sat at the head of the table, with Frigga on his left side. While Thor sat to the right of Odin, sitting proudly, with a look of hunger that would frighten anyone who didn't know him. Lilith had taken her own seat on the third seat of the left, while the second seat sat empty. No words were said as the servants began to bring out the courses. Lilith had offered to assist them as she often did in her own home, yet when she did Odin would hold up his hand, and give a harsh look to Lilith. "I don't pay them to be helped I pay them to do their job," he stated in a harsh tone. After that Lilith hadn't tried to again, despite Odin's harsh tone that he took whenever one would make a small mistake. The servants had just finished bringing out the first course, yet Loki had yet to arrive. Odin's face looked more than displeased at seeing Loki's lack of presence at the table. He motioned a nearby servant to his side. "Where is HE!" The sound of Odin's voice boomed through the dining room reminding Lilith once more that he was the all-father and protector of the nine realms. The poor servant that Odin had called didn't look much younger than Thor. Yet rather than have the brave face of Thor, instead, he seemed to be trying to keep himself together as he mumbled something. This only seemed to displease Odin more. "Well speak up young man. I don't think I can hear you." His tone remained harsh despite Frigga's soft touch and look of, please.

Upon hearing this the young man while not having more courage seemed to take the hint. "I don't know," the young man said while looking like he was trying not to let his feet give out of fright.

 Rather than take this as a sign to tone himself down, Odin didn't. "Well, then I suggest you find out."

"Yes, your grace." The young servant let out a quick bow, and nod of his head before he quickly exited the room. Once the young servant was gone Odin's mood didn't seem to improve. 

 "He dares to try and miss dinner once more!" Odin's voice boomed once more as his fist hit the table, sending everything up before landing down perfectly likely thanks to Queen Frigga's seider.

 "Now father I am sure my brother is holed up as usual. You know how he gets," Thor said likely trying to calm Odin's wrath.

 "He needs to be reminded of his duties as the son of the royal family."

 "Father, don't you think that may be a little harsh?"

 "I don't care your brother needs to learn to be on time rather than skip out for his silly indulges." 

 "My love, I am sure will make it perhaps he is running late," Queen Frigga said as if trying to reassure Odin. Although both of them knew Loki was likely not coming. 

 "You spoil him far too much Frigga. Allowing him to continue this silliness when he should be meeting our guest." As Odin's hand pointed to Lilith. Lilith feared he might ask her to say something yet it was at that moment the young servant came in once more. Upon seeing this Odin's focus was now directed on the servant rather than on Lilith. "Well, where is he?"

"Prince Loki claims he has more studying to do," the servant said his voice having the smallest bit of fright in tone.

 "Well you can tell that whatever silly indulges he is doing can wait until after dinner!"

 The servant form seemed to get smaller and smaller the longer he stood there. Yet just as it looked like the young servant was about to say something Thor had something else to say. "Father, I could fetch my dear brother and see if I could pressure him to dine with us and Lady Lilith."

 "You would?" Odin seemed confused at Thor's words. 

 "I would, ever since Loki has become absorbed in his studies, I haven't been able to see him much."

 "I see well then go on better you than him. Through I expect both of you back."

 "Of course," Thor said as he stood up wobbling the table just a little from the suddenness. As soon he was gone, along with the servant leaving Queen Frigga, Odin, and Lilith alone. It was mainly silence before it looked as if Odin had something else to say.

 "I thought I told him to be quick!"

 "I am sure they will be here soon, love," Queen Frigga said her voice ever as gently. The look that crossed Odin's face at that moment looked to be one that would be another angry one. When Lilith decided to speak up, not wanting to sit here much longer. 

 "If need be I could go see if I could fetch them." The statement seemed to turn both Queen Frigga's and Odin's heads toward her.

 "You would?"

 "I would your highness."

 "Whose to say my son won't enchant you too?"

 "With what Queen Frigga has been teaching me, I am sure I could at least hold him off long enough to at least try and listen."

"I see, I suppose it wouldn't hurt my eldest son failed to do his task. But if you don't return rest assured Loki will feel my wrath."

 "Of course, I expect nothing less of you, your highness."

 "Yes."

 "I thank you for your kindness in allowing me to do so."

 "Think nothing of it aside from an investment of sorts."

 "But of course now if you will excuse me," Lilith said trying to keep her voice from faltering as she got up and exited the room in search of both of the princes. She started at the first place she had thought of and the place she heard Loki often was at the library. As she slowly made her way in, she found Loki sitting on the edge of a window, reading through a book. He didn't seem to notice her presence something Lilith took as a sign, as she quietly tried to make her way close to him. For all she needed was to be close enough to enact her spell. While it wasn't as powerful as one would be if she had been training longer, she figure it would be just enough to get the job done. Lilith allowed her hands to slowly light up with her golden seider, as she allowed it to slowly drift towards Loki's direction. Yet rather than Loki remaining in his book he shut the book causing Lilith to break the control of her seider. 

 "Now who might you be?"

 "Me?" Lilith looked around as if she didn't know who he was talking about.

 "Yes, you. Care to tell me why you were trying to spell me? And don't say you weren't, I happen to think I am quite talented in telling truth from lie."

 "I..."

 "You what?"

 Lilith tried to think of something yet failed to. "You weren't coming to dinner," was all she could get out.

 At this Loki seemed to get a look of interest. "Ah, so you are the one mother brought in. The one who is said to rival me one day. While your skills are lacking I see the potential."

 "You do?"

"Yes, but not enough that you can enchant much less lie to me. So care to tell me the real reason you are here besides my lack of attendance at dinner."

 "Your father seemed to be getting displeased, so I volunteered to fetch you."

 "I see I am surprised Thor, didn't come."

 "He volunteered, but he had yet to come back."

 "I see Father always worries more about him than me. Knowing Thor, he probably found my clone."

 "Your clone?"

 "Yes, I use one to practice my magic while I read up on it. For anything my clone does I get the knowledge once he expires."

"I see."

 "Yes, knowing my brother, I am sure he will be here soon."

 "I see."

 "As for that dinner, I would rather not attend."

 "May I ask why?" This comment seemed to surprise both Lilith and Loki. Yet rather than be displeased Loki seemed to be amused by it. 

 "You saw how it is. Father yells, while Mother tries to calm him, and Thor is Thor, it doesn't make one want to particularly attend."

 "I see, but what about his wrath?"

 "Father's wrath isn't one I haven't faced many times."

 "It isn't?" Lilith was surprised that Odin would act that way, she had never known her own father to do such a thing.

 "Yes, I am the second born or as father thinks the spare."

 "The spare?"

 "You don't know do you?"

 "Know what?"

At hearing this Loki let out an expected laugh, one that might seem cruel, yet held the slightest bit of hurt in it. Something that Lilith wouldn't realize until much later. "People seem to think father is the generous man being he is the all-father. While he was when I was younger, the moment I developed an interest that didn't fit him. He stopped being so generous."

 "He did?" A look of concern crossed Lilith's face upon hearing this. While it should shock her from the way Odin acted it wasn't.

 "Yes, but what does it matter I am just the spare, and Thor will likely be king."

Lilith had been about to say something at least until the door opened as Thor appeared. "So this is where you have been brother?"

 "Yes."

Thor continued to walk toward Loki, Lilith going unnoticed. "Father has been wanting you at dinner."

 "So I have been told."

 "Told by who?"

 "The lady," Loki pointed out as it was at that moment that Thor seemed to notice Lilith's presence. 

 "I see."

 "Yes, now how long did it take you this time to figure out the clone wasn't me."

 "It doesn't matter."

 "Seriously how many times are you going to fall for it?"

"It matters not we must get to dinner."

 "Why should I? Seeing as we both know how it will go."

 "Father wants you to meet our guest."

 "As you can see I have already met her." A look of uninterest was on Loki's face as he took the moment to pick back his book and flip through the pages.

 "Yes, but.."

 "But what," Loki asked still uninterested in Thor. Yet while Thor seemed to be trying to convince Loki, something hit Lilith. A way to convince Loki to come. It had been there all along she just hadn't seen it.

I hope this works she prayed as she got ready to spoke. "I know why you should come," she stated as the brothers looked at her surprised by the outburst.

 "Oh, are you going to try another spell? Because as of now you are far too weak to even try."

 "I don't need a spell to make you come."

 "You don't?"

 "No, when Queen Frigga could."

 "What does Mother have to do with this?"

 "I am sure with all your studying, it has likely been a bit since you have seen her."

 "So?"

 "I am sure you would want to see her sometime and seeing as I take up much of her time with my lessons and you hole up studying or with your other duties. I don't see you having much free time to see her."

 "Who says I can't during your lessons?"

 "You wouldn't, you care about her too much."

 "Do I?"

 "You do."

 "And how would you know?" A look of intimation crossed Loki's face, much like when a thorn lets out its thorns when messed with. As Lilith tried to keep her head up reminding herself the end will be worth it.

 "I didn't know until you just said it."

 "You didn't?"

 "I had a hunch, but you confirmed it."

 "I see." A look of interest once again appear on Loki's face as he was thinking through something. Until he came up with a solution but not without a sigh. "I suppose I could indulge you just this once it has been a while since I have seen mother."

At this, Thor went to hug Loki only for him not a second later to fall to the floor, a dagger now in his side. "Must you brother?"

 "Always," Loki remarked with a smile, setting his book down, as he held out his hand to Lilith. "Seeing as you convinced me would you accompany my lady?"

It was upon hearing this that Lilith had no words, never did she expect to be asked by a prince much less Loki to accompany her. "I..."

 "I what?"

 "I guess."

 "Then let us be off," Loki said as he smiled going around Thor.

 "Is he going to be okay?"

 "Yes."

 "Through it would help if you removed the dagger brother," Thor commented from the ground.

 "Should I?"

 "I am sure your father would rather like Thor in one piece. Besides, I fear of what he might do if he sees Thor like this."

 "Yes, the father does have his temper. I suppose I will let it slide." At this with a flick of his hand, the dagger vanished in green, as Thor was no longer in pain. Loki was about to leave when Lilith said something. As what happened seemed to give her a bit more confidence.

 "Loki."

 "Yes."

 "I think your father would rather have him healed."

 "Must I?"

 "You do this later when we aren't about to see him."

 "Such confidence for someone who seemed so timid."

 "Well, I will likely need some in regards to you."

 "I see this will be such fun," Loki said with another wave of his hand, and soon Thor was up. But not before being ditched by Loki, with Lilith on his arm. Little did they know that this was only the start of Lilith's attempts to enchant Loki...

Present 

While a frown would grace Lilith's face when she initially thought of that memory, she would be smiling at the end. As that was the first time she ever met Loki. Her confidence would grow much after that as soon the two could be found bickering with one another. Lilith has no problem with speaking her mind to Loki, something that anyone would pay for except for her. Lilith's attempts to enchant Loki wouldn't stop as she would try again in fact Lilith could recall when she had just learned the spell she would use to try and enchant Loki. It was an old one and had taken Lilith quite a bit to learn about a century's worth of training yet she did and she was ready to test it on Loki something she had tried to do on that day...

That Day

By this time Lilith was 750 and had already reached maidenhood with the idea that her time at the place would end soon. She had learned much and Queen Frigga could only train her for so long. As her debut would be coming soon, as her father would soon allow courting and marriage offer to come. Something that Lilith dreaded and told Loki more than once. While he offered to marry her himself, Lilith always put it to the side thinking it was his usual flirting. As Loki had grown older, he had become both more admiring and more admired. He would observe the beauty in everyone no matter their gender, something he would often state on his and Lilith's walks. It was before one of those walks that Lilith was going to enact her plan.

Rather than be by Loki's side towards their meeting spot, Lilith had taken to hiding behind a palace arch, only peeking to see if he had made his appearance yet. As she allowed one hand to remain face up, while she allowed a ball of magic to form. As she kept an eye on it until she saw Loki appear, as she began to speak the spell in Midgardian words it was Don't be afraid. Trust me. Lilith's eyes became a grow of gold compared to her usual blue eyes. She seemed to be getting close at least so she thought until she heard a voice. She turned to see Loki behind her. "Loki," she cried.

 "Nice try darling."

Upon hearing darling slip from his lips, Lilith felt her heart race a little as it seemed to whenever she was around him. Something she had been trying to convince herself not to for the past half a century. As she allowed her quick response to vanish what was thinking. "Seriously?"

 "You think I wouldn't know your presence much less your magic."

"No."

 "Well, I did sorry darling."

 "Seriously must you with the pet names right now?"

 "Always and especially right now," Loki stated with a smile.

 "Am I ever going to be able to enchant you?"

 "Whose to say about the future, but as of now I am afraid, not daring. So why don't you stop the magic and try another time?"

 "Why should I?"

 "I've already compromised you this time and we both know it wouldn't be smart for you to attempt so soon."

"Fine."

 "Good girl," Loki said with a soft pat on her head.

 "Seriously, I am not your pet."

 "Aren't you?" At this a smile began to cross the edges of Loki's face, a smile that Lilith both hated and loved seeing. 

 "You want to try that again Odinson? Because you know I could always send Sif on you."

 "You wouldn't dare."

 "Wouldn't I?"

"Fine, you win this time."

 "Naturally."

 "For someone who can't enchant me you still seem to bend me to your will."

 "Only because you let me."

 "Out of pity."

 "Sure whatever you say," Lilith said not buying it for a second. "Now how about we take that walk," she offered her hand out.

 "You won't try to enchant me?"

 "We will just have to see about that," Lilith stated with a smile on her face.

 "For a lady, you are quite cunning."

 "Aren't all ladies a little bit cunning?"

 "Perhaps," Loki said as he took Lilith's hand the two began their walk as ever. Both the upcoming leave and Lilith's feelings are unmentioned, as Lilith was trying to figure out her next attempt. But that was for later for now everything was perfect at least until it wasn't...

Present

While once again a smile crossed Lilith's face when thinking about that memory with Loki. Her smile faded into a frown as she remembered what would happen soon after. A thought that brought a sense of dread to her as she remembered it. The day was not to be spoken about, as everything thing had been perfect until it wasn't.

The Unperfect Day

Lilith had just recently turned 800, and her departure was edging ever so closely, as soon it would be time for her to debut to both her kingdom and the nine realms. On top of the lessons with Queen Frigga, Lilith was forced to attend debut lessons with the other ladies of the court and nobles of the kingdom. Even Sif who was only attending for formality and would likely quickly unlearn everything she was taught. The debut ball was nearing and Lilith was encouraged to have a man escort her. Lilith had been planning to get Loki to take her if need be to try and enchant him into coming with her. For after her last major attempt to enchant him, Loki said if she succeeded even for a second, he would do whatever task she asked even after it wore off with no questions. This is what primarily motivated her on this trial as she was ready to enact her plan.

She chooses to do it on one of her few free days. Yet rather than try and invite Loki to do something. Lilith thought it would be best to try and surprise him to catch him off guard long enough to spell him. She had been searching the palace with no advil in finding him, as she choose to go to the gazebo. Somewhere very few knew, as its door was hidden, this meant it was private enough that one who knew about it could get peace without anyone knowing. Until she opened the door she was sure she was ready for whatever ever at least so she thought...

Lilith barely opened the crack of the door, as she already saw Loki against one of the gazebo arches, yet his eyes were closed, something very unusual for him."Lo," she started to say at least she had been about to until she took in the rest of the sight. Upon opening the door, further Lilith saw a maiden with shoulder-length brown hair on her knees. Her mouth looked to be wrapped around something. Lilith froze upon seeing this, her heart stopped beating, all made worse as Lilith could see the maiden lifting up. Rather it was someone she didn't know it was someone she knew very well. Yet someone she never thought she would see with Loki, it was Sif. Sif was doing something to Loki, something he seemed to enjoy enough that his eyes were closed shut. All the thought Lilith had put into her plan vanished upon seeing Sif's come up. As Lilith only registered enough courage to place an invisible spell on herself. She was about to leave when she saw Sif's lips go on Loki's rather than be surprised Loki seemed far from it. As when he parted he seemed to have something to say. "Are you sure about this?"

 "Yes, but after this we never speak of what happens. Nobody is to know not even Lilith."

 "She wouldn't care anyway."

 "Would she?"

 "If she cared about I be here now?"

 "Perhaps just to mess with me."

 "I would never do such a thing Sif."

"Whatever you say, don't make me regret this."

 "Your wish is my command, my lady."

 "Good, now I would rather not finish this here where anyone could walk in?"

 "Don't like the public display?"

 "Not everyone is like you Loki."

 "Clearly," Loki said with a smile. 

 "Just shut up before I regret this."

 "Rest assured my lady, tonight will be filled with nothing but pleasure."

 "It better be."

 "Oh it will be," Loki said with his usual smirk before a flick of his wrist, they vanished in green.

Only when they were gone did Lilith lift her invisibility spell, as she fell to the floor, she began to cry? The heartbreak began to settle in, with the fact that Loki would never feel the same as she did no matter how much she tried to enchant him. So why even try?? Especially if she could never compare to Sif.

Present

Another bitter smile crossed Lilith's face, as she thought back. For the past hundred years since it happened, she has been doing her best to avoid Loki. Whenever she did see him, she would run and try to hold the tears in long enough to be out of sight. Trying not to think back to the sight she saw. Yet it kept coming back as if the fates loved to see it taunt her with something she could never have. Lilith never did tell Loki, about her debut going so far as to skip it. All of it made worse with the fact that she had received a letter from her father stating if she didn't have a suitor in Asgard there was no use in staying any longer now that she was near 1,000. The moment Lilith had gotten the letter she found herself once more near the royal gazebo, to cry. Despite the bitter memories, it was the only place where nobody seemed to come and look for her. Thus why she had been there ever since she got the latter remembering the times before.

Little did she know that rather than be alone someone else was there. As Lilith was clutching her letter wondering why she wasn't enough and how it had gotten so bad. Everything had been perfect enough until that day. "Why couldn't I be enough for him," she cried.

Rather than have no answer someone else voice came through. "Enough for whom?"

Without even looking Lilith knew who it belonged to. As she allowed her eyes to glow gold and begin the spell. Knowing Loki he wouldn't let her go until she relented. So there was only one other choice to make him leave. She just needed to stall him long enough to form the spell. "Why doe it matter to you?"

 "Because I care about you."

 At this, Lilith let out a cruel laugh. As she continued to prepare. "Trust me it isn't because of that."

 "And why wouldn't it be that?"

"Because I am sure Sif sent you."

 "Why would Sif send me?"

 "To taunt me perhaps or maybe because she cared."

 "Why would Sif do that?"

 "I don't know maybe the same reason you choose to sleep with her."

If Lilith had been looking at him rather than mumbling the words don't be afraid. She would've seen the look of surprise, shock, and worry cross his face. Sadly she hadn't as Lilith was near done with the spell at least she had been until Loki had something to say. "So you saw?"

 "Yes, I did."

 "I would suggest you not to be afraid and," Lilith had started to say until Loki place a finger on her lips. 

"Before you do anything will you listen to me?"

 "And why would I?"

"Because you wouldn't need a spell to enchant me."

 "And why wouldn't I?"

 "Because I already trust and need you."

 At this, Lilith let out another cruel laugh. "If you trust me you wouldn't have slept with Sif."

 "I didn't know you saw that."

 "Would it matter if I didn't?"

 "Yes."

 "Why do you want Sif more than me!"

 "Why would I?"

 "I don't know maybe because you slept with her and not me."

"I didn't sleep with her."

 "Please I saw her give you something in the gazebo. Not to mention kiss you."

 "It happened once."

"No shit."

 "We couldn't go through it."

 "Oh, couldn't you because it sure seemed like you were going to."

"After you likely saw us vanish, we couldn't go through with it."

 "Oh did Sif pull away?"

 "No, I did."

 "Why?"

 "Because I felt bad."

 "You sure didn't feel bad when Sif was doing something to you."

 "Because I hadn't had any contact with anyone in a while."

 "Ah, poor Loki not being able to get off on anyone."

 "Must you?"

 "Yes, now I would rather not hear any one of your excuses. So I suggest you hurry up before I make you."

 "What if I said I was in love with you? That Sif and I only sought each other out of loneness and that it will never happen again?"

 "I would say you are an idiot and why would I believe that?"

 "Because I would swear a vow of fidelity to you."

 At this, every anger slipped from Lilith's mind. For a vow of fidelity was the most powerful vow in courting, it meant they would seek no other, throughout the courting process. If broken the man would be disgraced seen only as a player meant for one night of company and nothing more. "Let's say I choose to believe that. Who is to say you aren't lying to me?"

 "I wouldn't, especially to you."

 "You swear this and you do nothing until I give you my answer."

 "Even if you don't forgive me I won't do anything until you say otherwise."

"Fine I suppose it is a start," Lilith said. Yet she got closer to Loki as her mouth grazed his ear. "Just know if you try anything I will be out here so quick. Got it?"

 "I know."

 "Good now you have a lot of making up to do."

"I know."

 "Good and you better do it quick or who knows what might happen," Lilith said with a smile as she got up. While she wasn't forgiving Loki she could see she would be on the path to doing it soon. Little did she know it was this very choice, that began them on a new one, though it is to be expected of the wife of the god of mischief, though this was far into the future, and all because of this one choice because of the one time, she didn't have the enchant him. But that is a story for another universe. 

@mochie85 @mochie85-archive @smolvenger @lokibug @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lokisprettygirl @lokisbirdofhermes @lady-rose-moon @eleniblue @mcufan72 @five-miles-over @evelyn-kingsley @holdmytesseract @wheredafandomat @writings-of-my-own @chantsdemarins @queen-paladin @sailorholly @muddyorbsblr @lady-rose-moon @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @iamlokis-blog @lokiburdenedwithgloriouspurpose @lokibug @lokisprettygirl @lokiprompts

[bongo50ize]

The best holidays Danceverse Crew's summer of the year

Here we see the Danceverse Crew'shouse. Where the crew is doing their average activities Suddenly a letter falls from the door and Sarah picks it up. And the crew I have a surprise for you everyone had come to the living room Sarah begins to read the congratulations letter you are invited to sleep in a lodge with three other people. Jack imagines who Night Swan who ruins the vacation for the crewSuddenly we hear a voice Jack Jack Jack. Jack worrying: you're sure it's a good idea your mother will ruin our vacation. Wanderlust take your gang behind Jack's back: maybe don't worry Maybe it's Dolores or Polo and Ruben or I don't know who else.mihaly : Cousin is right to stay calm, it can't be your mother. Jack he doesn't trust too much.3 p.m. later.The crew arrives at los angeles they arrive in the lodge The house in the hills. You can see there is liv blake and beedabop they arrived in the gite.Jack relieves by touching his heart.Wanderlust: I said there isn't your mother. In reality you can enjoy the holidays.Blake picks up a sheet on the table he begins to read: dear vacationer There are only 4 bedrooms for 8 people. have to pair you guys up in twos. Jack and wanderlust +discoball. Mihaly and brezzana. Blake and lib. Sara and beedabop even you are not in love to sleep in the same room.Brezzana coming out of joy: mi goes to sleep in the same room. Jack: we can cuddle in bed tonight liv â Blake: that's a nice man to book a room for the two of us. Beedabop: I brought a sleeping bag hello roommate. Sarah smiles back.Blake: I haven't finished yet, it's written morning closes at 8 am you're gone restaurant noon swimmer in the pool in the afternoon. Wednesday day in downtown Los Angeles. Thursday day at the Lake Tahoe Basin Management Unit. Disneyland Friday. And a boom and which represents the song which chooses.The Privacy Council.One closes the door to make love. Two you don't enter other people's room unless you are invited. Three beedabop he can't take a shower because he's a robot. The four No violence in this lodge. If you have a problem, tell me on the phone.Sarah : great I have a shower all to myself.At 8 p.m. Everyone swim in pool and beedabop serving glasses of apricot syrup. Liv: Thank you very much. She starts drinking after swallowing the first one: that's a vacation, what are we going to do on the farm tomorrow. Blake: retreat of the goats from the cows and see other animals Beedabop he goes inside. Suddenly Jack standing at the edge of the swimming pool shouting: attention I am going to dive!! How to Watch Jack Jumping Cannonball: Cannonballs!!It splashed everyone. Liv getting angry: because of your bomb my apricot syrup is soaked Wanderlust: Jack was I talking to you in private? Jack and wanderlust who went to a wanderlust corner: why did you make a cannonball!! Jack: Why? Wanderlust: because everyone is soaked because of your cannonball can you wait until tomorrow to do it again when there is no one? Jack: Ok sorry for everyone.At 6am later. Sarah: wakes up with wild hair. She gets up to brush them. Sarah she goes in the kitchen show him beedabop Who prepares breakfast for everyone he says: hello Sarah can you tell the others for breakfast? THANKS.After Sarah warns everyone breakfast is ready. Mihaly a sandwich: I love animals are so sweet. Wanderlust: maybe we can drink the cow's milk. Report for breakfast tomorrow morning.Jack: we go from chickens to chicks.

[sansaorgana]

— BLESSED (II)

PART ONE || PART THREE

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!half-Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — You find out your husband's true identity when Eregion is under attack. It is hard to tell which one is worse – the betrayal that you feel or witnessing how influenced by his evil your daughter already is.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I said there would be a second part, so here it is. But as usual, I could not stop writing and... there will be a third part, too! 🤣 Basically, in this part, Sauron is walking inside the rooms rapidly nearly all the time, which is something I realised later while re-reading the fic but I couldn't edit it since it made sense for the plot (and he was doing that a lot in canon, too).

WARNINGS — Reader's father is dead (he was human, so she outlived him), manipulating, gaslighting, lowkey toxic and abusive marriage between the Reader and Annatar Sauron, he gets angry at his daughter once or twice but he is not violent towards her (should not trigger anyone but I wanted to mention it just in case) + he is manipulating his daughter a lot, Celebrimbor has gone mad-mad, Reader being put to sleep against her will, trigger warnings from S02E07 (Sauron murdering the guards etc.)

WORD COUNT — 5,240

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

BLESSED (II)

You were sitting inside your chambers in the evening all alone and embroidering for your daughter. Your only company was a slowly burning candle as you focused on the beautiful gemstones that were appearing thanks to your needle. Almárea had always been interested in the craft of smithery and it was no surprise. Her grandfather had been an excellent smith and so was her father. Uncle Celebrimbor perhaps was not related to her but she had been growing up around him. And, recently, her new favourite thing to do was to spend time with him in the forge, learning everything she could about the craft. She was there at the moment, too.

And where Annatar was, you had no idea. Most likely with them or helping to run the city. Ever since Celebrimbor’s health had been getting worse, your husband was helping you with the administration matters around Eregion, for which you were the most grateful. He did not wish you to overwork yourself.

You heard a booming sound from the distance, which startled you slightly. However, you gave it no second thought. But when the sound began to repeat itself, you stood up and approached the window worryingly. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the fire burning in the distance and you spotted a cannonball coming closer and closer to Eregion.

You could see it all in slow-motion how it hit one of the towers of your city. You let out a scream and covered your mouth with a trembling hand. The very foundations of the tower you were in shook and made you hurry for the doors, desperate to find the ones you loved the most.

But before you could reach them, they opened widely and Annatar stood in them. He was oddly calm but oh, of course he was – an emissary of The Valar would not be ever scared and his calmness would bring nothing but peace in the times of trouble.

“We are under attack,” he announced and you grabbed his sleeve to squeeze the fabric and pull on it, holding onto him like a child. “Stay here.”

“But… Almárea… She’s in the forge with Celebrimbor…” You sobbed and yelped at the sound of another cannonball hitting Eregion.

“Do not be afraid,” Annatar put his arm around you and walked you back to your chair where he was trying to sit you down but you refused.

“Almárea and uncle Celebrimbor… I must go for them…”

“I shall go,” Annatar assured you and finally managed to sit you down by the table. “My love, stay here.”

“Should we not evacuate?” You asked, looking up at him with glistening eyes. Whatever he would say, you would listen, do and follow. You trusted him with your whole life.

“When the right time comes. Until then, stay here, so I do not lose you in the crowd,” Annatar instructed and left your chambers.

You wiped your tears with a shaky hand and felt the ground under your feet shaking once more. A while after his departure, you realised that his request was deeply concerning. Staying inside this tower could mean death to you, after all. There was no guarantee that the next cannonball would not hit your tower.

You moved up once more and ran to the doors but they were locked, which made you furrow your brows. You kept pulling the handle but without any success. Even when you used all of your force, they did not move an inch.

The sounds of cannonballs and people screaming in terror were reaching your ears from afar as your anxiety grew. How could your husband ask you to stay inside in a moment like this – especially with your daughter being far away from you? Your heart could not rest until you were sure that Almárea was safe.

You hurried to the balcony and looked up at the tower next to yours. The fire inside the forge was still on, you noticed. But you kept waiting and waiting for your husband’s return and there was nobody coming.

You were circling around the room nervously, trying to think of a way out. Almárea was all you could think of – your sweet daughter, your purpose in life, your little blessing. You had to be with her, you had to protect her.

And as you nearly broke down in tears of helplessness, you felt another cannonball hitting nearby. The force of that hit was so strong that you fell over, feeling the floor underneath you tilting slightly. When you dared to open your eyes, fearing what you would witness, you realised that half of the tower you were locked inside was in ruins now. Including the wall in front of you, which allowed you to run out without using the locked doors.

You did not think of anything else, leaving all your properties behind as you gathered your skirts and managed to get to the corridor, coughing heavily from all the dust.

The staircase was wobbly and you knew each step could cause you to fall down but you were too determined to overthink that. Step by step, as fast as you could, you ran downstairs and hurried across the courtyard, bumping into other screaming and terrified people, until you reached the doors to Celebrimbor’s forge.

What you witnessed, shocked you dearly. Because despite the siege around you, you spotted your uncle and daughter working on some design cheerfully.

“Almárea!” You called out for her, making them both turn around with widened eyes. “Uncle! What are you doing?!” You hurried to their side and put your arms around your daughter protectively. “Can’t you see and hear what is happening outside?! We must leave, this very moment!”

“What are you talking about, child?” Celebrimbor chuckled at you as if you were the crazy one. His eyes were full of joy but you also spotted a haze in them, a deep fog as if he had lost his mind. Your heart ached for him because his state had been worsening for weeks now.

“Uncle… Please, we must go,” you reached out to hold his wrists but he winced and pushed you away.

“No! I must not stop my work. What are you talking about, (Y/N)? Look at the state of you, you look like a slattern,” he pointed out and his words hurt you deeply. Of course you looked like a slattern. There was a siege happening and you crawled yourself out of the tower’s ruins to get here. “Almárea, your mother must be feverish,” he addressed your daughter.

“Almárea, my darling, we have to go and we have to take uncle with us,” you tried to explain it to her in the simplest way but she took a step back from you as she shook her head and the bow in her head bounced slightly.

“No. Daddy asked me to stay here and watch over uncle Celebrimbor,” she explained.

“Almárea, that is very noble but we are under attack,” you were trying to remain calm despite the noises reaching your ears from the outside. You knew that you had no time to argue. “Whatever your daddy asked you to do, it has no significance now.”

“But he has been here only recently,” she answered and you opened your mouth slightly, surprised. “He told me to keep up my work,” she added, proudly. “Uncle, go back to your craft. Mummy is sick indeed,” she addressed Celebrimbor and he nodded at her before giving you a dirty look and going back to his designs of the Rings.

“Almárea, it is not safe, we must leave. What are you doing to him?” You asked her, unsurely. You were scared to hear the answer as you crouched down to be on her level.

Your sweet, little daughter. Your blessing. Why was there so much malice in her eyes now?

The doors of the forge opened rapidly and you stood up at the sight of Annatar rushing inside. At first, you did not recognise him because his kind and loving face was twisted in anger as his soft eyes reminded you of nothing but black, empty abysses.

“What are you doing here?!” He barked at you. “I saw the cannonball hitting our tower, I rushed there and it was empty. Do you have any idea how worried I was?!” He raised his voice at you but you could not hear any concern in it – only fury.

You swallowed a lump in your throat and put your hands on Almárea’s shoulders.

“It is you who should explain yourself to me,” you tried to sound harshly but it was coming to you with great difficulty. After all, it was your husband, whom you loved and respected greatly. “Why is Almárea here and what is she doing to my uncle? You promised me you would come for them and we would evacuate together,” you pointed out.

“Not until the Rings are finished,” Annatar answered. “Almárea, are you keeping up the good work?” He addressed her softly.

“Yes, daddy,” she nodded her head with a grin and Annatar smiled before approaching Celebrimbor.

“How fares your progress?” He asked him.

“It would be better if your wife was not distracting me. She is feverish, you should take her back to your chambers and put her to bed. Call for a medic if you must,” Celebrimbor mumbled out.

“Is everyone going insane here?! We are under attack!” You exclaimed out of desperation.

“Almárea,” was all your husband said before she nodded and tilted her head

Suddenly, you felt dizzy. You let go of her arms and stumbled, grabbing the edge of Celebrimbor’s desk. You laid your free hand on your forehead and felt how hot the skin was.

“Oh, I… I… I do not feel well,” you whispered.

Annatar hurried to your side and slowly wrapped his arms around yours to help you move away.

“My gentle darling, you have a fever. You must have had a nightmare,” he told you sweetly. “I told you to stay in bed.”

“You… You did?” You asked but your mind was in a haze.

“Please, lay down,” Annatar helped you to get comfortable on a chaise longue in Celebrimbor’s study. He caressed your forehead and you could hear him walk away since your vision was too blurry to see anything. “Almárea, your mummy needs to rest,” you heard him whisper before your eyelids got too heavy to keep them open and you drifted off to the land of dreams.

You had no idea for how long you had been sleeping. Could be hours and could be days. When you opened your eyes again, you realised with terror that the forge was a mere shadow of its own glory. It was in ruins now and everything was dull, grey and full of dust. You stood up rapidly with your heart pounding inside your chest from the anxiety – Almárea and her safety were all you could think of.

And there she was, sitting boredly on top of Celebrimbor’s desk. They both had clothes and faces dirty from the ashes but he kept working cheerfully as your daughter was looking down at him and swinging her legs.

“Oh, mummy,” she smiled at the sight of you. “I am glad you woke up. I am so bored here and daddy keeps saying I must go on until uncle’s work is finished,” she sighed and jumped down onto the floor.

“What… What are you doing? What are you doing exactly?” You asked her, carefully. Your head was still heavy from the sleep induced upon you and your memories of what had happened were foggy.

“Daddy says uncle Celebrimbor must finish the Rings for men but he would be scared of what is going on outside, so while daddy helps to run Eregion, I am here, making sure uncle Celebrimbor has no idea about anything,” she revealed and you gasped.

At that moment, the doors opened and Annatar walked inside. His skin and robes were not dirty at all as if he was above the siege. For the first time in your life, you were scared at the sight of him as you swallowed thickly, so deeply confused.

“The Rings. Are they finished?” He asked and closed the doors behind him. Then, he spotted you being awake and turned around slowly with a puzzled expression. “Almárea, why is your mother awake?”

“I was bored, daddy,” Almárea whined and you watched Annatar’s face muscles twitching as he clenched his jaw and gave your daughter a look so scolding that she approached you to seek safety.

“She is only a child, what do you expect?” You asked him. “You have burdened her with a task that is too heavy for her. It would be too heavy for anyone. The measures you are taking to finish the creation are unholy,” you took a deep breath in and moved a little closer to your uncle with Almárea still clinging to you. You were trying to shield poor Celebrimbor from your husband. “Make it stop. Let us flee.”

Celebrimbor looked up at you, his eyes so full of fog and mist that it made you shed a tear of compassion as he smiled adoringly at you with nothing but pure joy. He had completely lost his mind now.

“No emissary of The Valar would do this,” you turned your face around to lay your eyes on your husband again as more tears streamed down your cheeks. He looked both – hurt to be accused and angry to be caught at the same time. The most confusing reaction you could expect. “My husband would not do this,” you added, nearly inaudibly.

At that, he snorted. And you only sobbed some more.

“Free my uncle’s mind, I beg of you,” you shook your head.

“He is not under my control,” Annatar smirked and looked down to meet your daughter’s gaze. He nodded and she squeezed her eyes tightly as she focused on something. When her eyes opened again, you looked back at your uncle but he remained working. “Her powers are too strong. He might be forever broken now,” Annatar pointed out with a glimpse of… pride. “Come to me, my child,” he opened his arms and Almárea tried to move but you tightened your grip around her.

“No. You will not go near that man ever again,” you said to her, harshly. Each word caused a pain, like a knife cutting your heart into pieces.

You loved Annatar but you had to protect your daughter from him because the man in front of you was… Was simply not the man you had married. Perhaps the burden of the Valar was too heavy for him. The task they had given to him had driven him and your uncle to madness.

Perhaps it was all your fault – by choosing to stay with you as your husband, he had to choose this form and stay in it, losing some of his godly powers. And his new flesh was simply too weak to handle all the power he had been blessed with by the gods.

His empty eyes glanced at you with so much hatred and fury that you felt smaller than a mouse at the moment.

“I am her father,” he reminded you, coldly. “Almárea, come here,” he ordered.

And you were simply too weak to fight it. Your limbs rebelled against your will as you felt your daughter leaving your grasp and running up to her father. You could only watch as your whole life was crumbling down just like Eregion around it.

“You are her father. But you are not my husband,” you said. “Who are you… truly?”

“I am the one keeping the storm at bay,” he answered, putting his hands on Almárea’s shoulders as she kept looking up at him with admiration. “Balancing the very sun above your head. All to heal Middle-earth and give your weak and pathetic uncle one chance to prove his worth. I want the Nine!” He yelled, making you flinch.

Celebrimbor did not, however. He only looked up at the mention of his name and smiled kindly at the monster you had to call your husband.

“I am working, my friend,” he assured him before going back to work.

You moved slightly to cover him from Annatar’s stare. But you were not sure if Annatar was truly his name.

To heal Middle-earth. You knew that story. You knew who had been the man with such a dream. Annatar had been mentioning it before but never in this way. But now it all made sense. It all made a terrible sense and you had been nothing but a blind fool. It should had alarmed you the very first time Annatar had used this phrase. But the tone of his voice had been sweet then; concerned. Now, he had revealed his true intentions.

“You are He,” you realised out loud with a trembling voice. In fact, your whole body was trembling. The waves of aftershocks coming over your body after finding out such a dreadful thing about the person with whom you had shared your chambers, your bed, your body, your heart and your soul… Your bloodline. “You are Sauron,” the name rolled off of your tongue like something filthy and dirty – the most disgusting. The Abhorred.

All those I love yous you had whispered to him, all those nights you had spent on whimpering his name lost in pleasure, all those breakfasts you had served him, all those hours spent on brushing his hair with your fingers and peppering his face with tiny kisses. All this time you had been doing nothing but pampering the monster. And all this time you had been living in an illusion – not much better than the one your uncle was living in at the moment.

“I have many names,” Annatar smirked at your question as if it was bringing him satisfaction that his silly and naive wife had finally realised the dreadful truth.

“But you are my daddy,” Almárea tugged on his robe, waiting for confirmation.

“For all eternity, my darling one,” he caressed her hair lovingly and an empty hole in your chest grew and grew as it began to sink into your heart.

You had married Annatar but you had a child with Sauron.

You were sitting on the floor, with your back pressed to the wall and your knees brought all the way up to be able to rest your head on them. You had no chains but you did not have to. Annatar – or rather Sauron – knew very well that you would not leave Celebrimbor’s forge as long as Almárea was inside.

So, you just kept sitting there and staring at her as she was standing above your uncle and watching carefully as he crafted the Rings. She was studying him and you smiled sadly at that because under different circumstances it would be lovely to watch her learning from Celebrimbor.

His mind was far too gone to know anything happening around him. The only thing he could focus on was forging the Rings as you kept overthinking your whole marriage.

All those little things you had been ignoring about Annatar until now – all those excuses you had been making up for him. Gods, you were such a fool. And you loved your daughter more than anything but you could not help a feeling that your womb had borne a seed of Middle-earth’s demise.

Why had Annatar chosen you? Now it all made sense – you were the most useful in his schemes. You were close to the man he had wanted wrapped around his finger. And you were half-human, which could push Celebrimbor into agreeing to craft such powerful items even for the kin considered to be weak and unworthy by many Elves.

You sobbed silently. Was it possible that this was the only kind of love you could ever count on? This twisted illusion, this mockery? You had been nothing but kind and gentle to him, giving him everything you had and more. And all you had ever wanted in return was to be loved back. To have a family.

“You are done now! Daddy will be so proud, uncle!” Almárea clapped her hands and it made you look up. She kissed Celebrimbor’s cheek and he smiled at her, watching her put the rings inside a pouch.

“Almárea,” you called out for her and she laid her eyes on you. “Give them to me,” you ordered.

“But daddy–” She started, unsurely.

“I just want to see,” you extended your hand and she walked up to you, hesitantly. She handed you the pouch and you grabbed it from her. “Mummy!” She whined.

“Undo what you have done to uncle Celebrimbor’s mind. Right now,” your voice was harsh but not too much because she was still your daughter and you could never hurt or abandon her even if the darkness was the path she would descend into.

She was still a child, though. And she was half you – there was the same amount of light inside of her as of darkness.

“I can only try,” Almárea told you and you nodded at her, encouragingly. 

You held her hands to help her and she squeezed them, closing her eyes and tilting her head as she furrowed her brows, causing a small wrinkle to appear on her smooth forehead.

When she was done, you knew that it had thankfully worked. Because Celebrimbor yelped out of fear as you kissed the top of your daughter’s head and ran up to him immediately.

“Uncle… Uncle, calm down, please, shh, you are alright now,” you put your hands on his arms and his scared eyes found yours with relief.

“Oh, my darling (Y/N), I have been in such a haze… He… He made me…” Celebrimbor tried to find the right words.

“I know, I am so sorry…” You whispered, your voice full of pain and regret.

“No. It is me who is sorry, my sweet child. I have given you to him so easily, so freely,” he caressed your face with his trembling hands.

“And I am glad that you did,” you sobbed and he furrowed his brows. “And I cannot ever say that I regret it for he has given me my daughter,” you confessed.

“He might never get The Nine,” Celebrimbor changed the subject and you nodded, agreeing with him as you sniffed your tears back. You handed him the pouch with the Rings and glanced upon the doors.

“Go,” you pressed your forehead to his. “Take them away from him,” you whispered. “As far away as you can. Quick, we do not have much time. Use the opportunity that he still thinks you are under Almárea’s control.”

Your uncle nodded at you sadly. He kissed your forehead and squeezed the pouch inside his hand before looking at your daughter with a sigh. There was no hatred in his eyes but a glimpse of sadness, disappointment and fear mixed altogether. 

You watched him leave and Almárea reached her hand out after him but you stopped her.

“Daddy will get angry,” she looked up at you, surprised to witness what you had just done.

“Believe me, it is for the better,” you told her and held her hand. “We must leave now, too.”

“No,” she stood still and shook her head. “Not without daddy.”

“Almárea, we must go. We must leave, far away from here. We must go to your grandmother in Mithlond,” you tried to lure her in by the mention of your mother.

But she had seen her once in her life and the meeting had been brief. They shared no bond, therefore Almárea was not easily convinced.

“Not without daddy,” she repeated.

“Almárea, I beg of you…” Your eyes filled with tears again. You knew Sauron would be back any moment to check on Celebrimbor’s progress and you did not want to be there when he would see that your uncle was gone with The Rings.

But what you did not want even more was to abandon your daughter.

So, you stayed with her and waited. You did not even know what you were waiting for – was it your death? Would he get rid of you now when you were not useful to him anymore and after you had betrayed him in such a way; convincing your daughter to release Celebrimbor from her control and letting him flee?

You would find out very soon because the doors of the forge opened and there he was, walking confidently inside with a smirk upon his face.

“Daddy, I am so sorry!” Almárea cried out immediately and ran up to him while you looked away, wincing from the ache you felt in your heart. Your eyes filled tears at her words. You only hoped he would not lash out at her. “I trusted mummy and she tricked me! She gave The Rings back to uncle Celebrimbor and let him go!” Almárea explained and cried.

Long silence occurred and even though you were not looking in their direction, you could feel the atmosphere changing in an instant. Thickening.

“Mummy is a twisted, treacherous little witch, so it seems,” Sauron drawled out and you turned your head around to lay your angry eyes upon him with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“How dare you!” You snapped. Who was he to call you twisted or treacherous? “I swore no loyalty to you, shadow of Morgoth!”

“Yes, you have!” He yelled at you and Almárea flinched, taking a step back. He walked past her to approach you angrily but you could not move away because there was a wall behind you. “You bound yourself to me on the day of our wedding!” Sauron pushed you, causing your back to hit the wall. “Where is he?! Where are The Rings?!”

“Daddy, we do not know!” Almárea ran up to you two and tugged on his robe. You avoided her gaze because you did not want her to see the fear and pain in your eyes. It would only scare her more. “Daddy, it is not mummy’s fault that she is weak. You told me that yourself!”

Sauron’s face was so close to yours that your noses nearly brushed against each other. His breath was heavy and hot, full of anger. You remained cold and still with tears streaming down your cheeks. And even though you did not recognise your husband and his eyes were dark and empty now, you dared to reach out to his cheeks gently. You cupped his face delicately, which caused his brows to furrow and his eyes to widen slightly out of surprise.

“Annatar,” you whispered softly. “Annatar, my love, come back to me. You bound yourself to me, too, dark spirit. Obey me. Release me,” you pleaded, desperately, feeling as if you were losing your sanity.

There was pure confusion on Sauron’s face at that moment. He took a step back, away from you and away from your hands but as they were falling down, you tried to extend them further and reach him once more.

“You are pathetic,” he pointed out, coldly. “I shall find those Rings sooner or later. The only thing you did was to slow me down but you will never stop me.”

“Let it be then… Whatever I can do, I shall,” you whispered.

He opened his mouth to say something but you were interrupted by a group of people walking inside the forge. It was Celebrimbor with a few guards. For one, foolish moment, you sighed with relief, expecting rescue.

He nodded at you softly to let you know that The Rings were safe and far away from your husband. You reached your hands out to grab Almárea and pull her closer to you. She let you and wrapped her arms around you to comfort you after her father’s anger.

“Where are The Rings?!” Sauron abandoned your side to walk down the stairs from Celebrimbor’s study into the ruins of the forge.

“Far from your reach by now,” your uncle answered.

“Then you are going to bring them to me and place them in my hand,” Sauron said, trying to remain calm. 

“Your hand will never touch another Ring again,” Celebrimbor assured him.

You moved closer to the railing with Almárea still clinging to you, so you both could see better whatever was happening downstairs.

The Commander of the City Guard ordered the rest to arrest your husband. Almárea sobbed and hid her face in the fabric of your gown as you caressed her back, soothingly.

You watched the soldiers stand in a circle around Sauron and point their swords at him. You put your hand on the back of your daughter’s head, making sure to press her face a bit deeper into your gown to avoid her seeing any glimpse of the scene underneath you by accident.

“By order of the true Lord of Eregion, you, Sauron, are hereby–” the Commander began before freezing.

In fact, they all froze. They all froze and trembled, whimpering slightly because they had absolutely no idea what was happening to them.

“You think it was only you and your weak fosterling who put themselves in my power?” Sauron asked with contempt as he addressed your uncle.

He raised his hands slightly and all the soldiers surrounding him killed one another instead of him. You watched in terror as their blades cut through their bodies and then they fell down, lifeless, onto the ground.

Almárea sobbed and yelped, managing to get out of your grasp due to your moment of weakness.

“Daddy!” She cried out for him. She was scared that the sound she had heard was of their blades cutting through him.

But it was not. And you watched her run down the stairs and ignore the lifeless bodies, as if they meant nothing to her, only to cling to Sauron’s waist. He wrapped one of his hands around her to pull her closer as he raised an eyebrow at Celebrimbor in a challenging manner.

The Commander tried to approach your husband carefully, extending his sword.

“Do not hurt the child,” your uncle ordered but there was no need.

Sauron did what you had done a while earlier and pressed Almárea’s face deeper into his robe as she was clinging to him. And when there was a guarantee she could not see anything, he twisted the wrist of his free hand and the Commander froze before turning the blade around and killing himself with it.

Only when his body hit the floor, Sauron let go of your daughter and allowed her to move. She looked up at him as if she was waiting for an order or a task to be given.

“You shall take control over him again and tell me where The Nine are,” your husband said.

“Almárea, no!” You screamed from the top of the stairs. “Almárea, please!”

“Are you sleepy again, my love?” Sauron looked up to ask you with irony.

You chose to be silent. To be put to sleep for gods know how long, to lose control of your own body and to be unaware of your surroundings was not what you wanted to happen once again.

MASTERLIST

[vbecker10]

Hey, this is my first time requesting anything so… sorry if I’m a bit awkward lmao ANYWAYSSSS I was wondering if you could pls make a loki x autistic reader one shot where they’re washing the dishes or doing any job that they have to do and they’re overstimulated and starting to have a meltdown but trying to mask it because they want to get the job that was assigned for them done cause they don’t want the others to think they’re faking a meltdown to get out of it and Loki notices and yeah… please, if that’s not too much trouble, and thank you :)

@lokixryss thank you so much for this ask! Sorry it took so long for me to get to it. I really hope you like it 💚

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It's Too Loud

Pairing: Loki x gender neutral reader / Loki x autistic reader

Warning: overstimulated, feelings of panic / being overwhelmed

Summary: You're the newest member of the team and you get picked to clean up the kitchen after Wanda and Vision made dinner for everyone. The rest of the team settles into the various sections of the common area and leave you to clean. A little while into your chore, you start to feel overwhelmed by all the noises around you. You try to hide how you are feeling and finish your task as quickly as possible but Loki notices your discomfort and tries to help you manage your feelings.

A/N: I really want to thank @ace-of-gay @michelleleewise and @soubi001 for taking a look at this before I posted it! You guys are amazing and I really appreciate your insight into this 💚💚

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"That was amazing as usual, Wanda," Steve says as he wipes his face with his napkin.

"I agree! You're cooking rivals the great feasts on Asgard," Thor says in a booming voice.

Everyone at the table echos Thor and Steve's praises of Wanda's skills in the kitchen and she replies, "Thank you! Viz helped." She takes his hand and squeezes it lightly.

"By not touching anything I assume?" Tony jokes and everyone laughs as he continues to make more comments about Vision's lack of experience in the kitchen. Once they all settle down Tony puts his hand on your shoulder, "All right new kid, you're on clean up duty."

You nod quickly, excited to help. Although you aren't an Avenger, they had all gone out of their way to make you feel welcome your first week. Your job is to take care of things behind the scenes. Scheduling meetings, running small errands, helping with paperwork, pretty much anything that keeps things running smoothly. Cleaning wasn't one of your duties but you had seen how they all took turns cooking and clearing up when not on missions so you were more then willing to do your part.

They all thank Wanda again and get up, making their way to their usual after dinner spots. Thor, Steve, Bucky and Sam head to the back corner of the room to play cards. Wanda and Vision settle into the two seats at the end of the bar while Natasha opens a bottle of wine. Bruce and Tony sit opposite each other with a chessboard between them. Loki wanders over to the bookshelves and spends a few moments examining each title before making a decision. He takes three books, setting two of them on the end table before making himself comfortable on the couch and opening the third book. Peter is the only one who leaves the common area, most likely going back to his room so he can finish his homework.

You stand at the island and watch all of them with a smile for a few moments before getting back to the task at hand. Wanda did make a delicious meal but there was a downside, she used what seemed like every pot, pan and bowl in the shared kitchen. You sigh to yourself before going back into the dining area to collect the rest of the plates, utensils and cups.

At first, you enjoy the sounds of everyone around you having fun but slowly you begin to feel a shift and you know it's not good. Your heart rate begins to quicken gradually and it is harder for you to keep your breathing even. You find yourself desperately wishing you had brought your headphones with you as a distraction. They were useful for when you were feeling overwhelmed by too much sound and they helped you focus by drowning out everything around you. You groan quietly and hope you can finish up before you start to feel worse.

Your smile fades as the boisterous laughing from the card game becomes a noisy three sided argument. Steve and Bucky want to play Texas Hold'em but Sam is complaining that they play it too often and that he never wins. Thor insists they try an Asgardian game but the other three decline adamantly, not wanting to learn something new.

Natasha and Wanda are almost through their first bottle of wine and are giggling like crazy at some phrase Vision used incorrectly. He is trying to get their attention to understand what was so funny about what he said but the two women are far too hysterical to answer him.

The louder the common area becomes, the faster you try to work and the harder it is to focus. All you want to do is finish so you can go somewhere quiet and calm yourself down. You rinse off the dishes and fill the dishwasher so quickly you almost chip two plates. Closing the door on the full appliance, you cringe at the noise it makes when you turn it on. The hum is constant and just loud enough to feel as if it is echoing in your mind.

You try to shift your attention to the stack of dirty items that remain in the sink, the ones that either can't go in the dishwasher or simply don't fit. You pick up one of the glasses and start to hand wash it under the warm water, trying to focus on the sound from the faucet and not the noises all around you. It works for a few moments and you can feel your breathing slowing back to normal.

The ear-splitting sound of Tony's deep laugh makes you look up from the dishes in the sink and you nearly drop the glass. He starts poking fun of Bruce for making an ill-advised move in their game and declares himself the winner. Bruce counters, telling Tony he isn't giving up quiet yet.

Without even realizing it, you put one hand over your ear and tilt your head to the side to try and cover you other ear with your raised shoulder. You freeze in that position, unable to clean any longer but also unable to push through how deafening the space had become. Everyone's voices blend together and your desire to leave becomes overwhelming.

Suddenly Thor slams his fists down on the card table and let's out a thunderous laugh. You put your hands over both your ears and find yourself sitting on the ground with your knees up to your chest and your back against the cabinet. You rock gently back and forth, keeping your eyes shut as you try to block out the sound.

A moment or two later, you feel a light tap on your shoulder and jump. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Loki says calmly as he sits cross legged on the floor in front to you. He points to your hands which are still covering both of your ears, "Are you alright?"

You take your hands down slowly and can't help but cringe as the loud noises begin to fill your head again. You want to tell him you are fine but before you can answer, Steve and Bucky both yell something at Thor and you close your eyes tight as your hands cover your ears again.

In an instant all the noise in the room stops completely and you take a deep breath in relief. You open your eyes slowly to see Loki has moved slightly closer to you and he was sitting on his knees now, leaning towards you. His hands are on either side of your head, a few inches from your own hands. A green glow spreads from his fingertips and you realize he is using his magic to block the sound for you. You lower your hands and your eyes but when you look up Loki is still looking at you and not in the way you had expected.

He was always polite but mostly he didn't speak to you or anyone else on the team, not even his brother. You worried the God of Mischief would look at you like you were just some poor, weak human but he wasn't. His eyes were full of concern and worry, not judgment or pity or any of the usual reactions you got from people when you were feeling overstimulated and anxious.

He doesn't move his hands, keeping the noise barrier in place for you. In a hushed voice he asks, "Do you need to leave? I can take you somewhere quiet."

You nod and he lowers one hand, touching your shoulder lightly. He surrounds the two of you with a green flash and before you can blink you are sitting on one of the couches in rear of the library. You look over and see him sitting next to you.

"Is this better?" he asks, still keeping his voice low.

You nod again but don't say anything. You take a few deep breaths and let the silence of the library calm you. Wrapping your arms tightly around yourself, you subconsciously sway back and forth gently on the couch.

After a few minutes Loki asks, "Was that a panic attack?"

You instantly begin to fidget with your fingers and look away from him. "No, it's something else but I guess they can be a little similar sometimes," you answer vaguely and he looks confused.

You realize Autism most likely isn't something Asgardians have to deal with and you had plenty of experiences at your past job where people treated you differently because of it. They made fun of the way you self-soothed and didn't believe you when you told them the noise in the office was hurting you. You bite your lip, trying to decide what you should tell Loki, if anything. You didn't want to be treated differently here but Loki had seen you meltdown, had the others seen it too?

"It's ok," he says during your long pause. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. We can just sit here quietly, whatever will make you feel better, Y/N."

You nod and cross your arms around yourself again. "Thank you," you tell him and he smiles warmly at you.

"You're welcome Y/N. I just want to to know I'm here if and when you want to talk," he says sincerely.

You smile back at him knowing he really means that. No one where you used to work ever talked to you like this, they never worried if you were ok or tried to help calm you down.

You look down at your foot which is tapping a familiar rhythm and decide to risk it. Consciously, you stop the movements of your foot and sit back on the couch. You can feel him shifting closer to you but you don't look up, sometimes talking was easier for you if you weren't looking at the other person.

You take another deep breath and tell Loki you have Autism and as expected, he asks you what that is. You give him the short version, only telling him about the signs or traits that you have. You then tell him about what happened in the kitchen, how the sounds were overwhelming and caused you to feel anxious and unable to focus. You also tell him about your previous job and that you are worried everyone here will single you out or think you can't do your job correctly if they find out.

He nods occasionally, listening carefully as you talk, asking questions here and there. When you finish he says, "Thank you for telling me, I'm sure that wasn't easy. I wish I had known about your sensitivity to sound earlier, I would have tried to help you sooner."

You then notice him fidgeting with his fingers and he says, "I know what it's like to hide parts of yourself and act as if things are ok when they are not. I've been doing that most of my life it would seem."

You sit quietly for a moment, unsure if he wants to talk about it more or not and you get your answer when he changes the subject. "Y/N, no one here would ever judge you for this, you know that I hope. But until you are ready to tell the rest of the team, you can come to me when you need help or want to talk," he tells you.

"Thank you Loki, I really appreciate that," you respond.

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or overwhelmed here," he says. "I know several spells which are good for dampening or eliminating sound entirely. I actually have one spell that will even render Thor completely mute if that helps," he says with a smile.

You laugh a little and say, "I'm honestly surprised you don't use that one all the time."

He shrugs, "Maybe we should try it out tomorrow."

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@michelleleewise @ace-of-gay @high-functioning-lokipath @poetic-fiasco @soubi001 @lokisninerealms @lulubelle814 @lovingchoices14 @justasecretwriter @theaudacitytowrite @klaushargreeves420 @coffeeorsomething-irl @lokisgoodgirl @xorpsbane @avoliax @talesofadragon @lokiandbuckysdoll @animnerd @juulle987 @lokiprompts @javagirl328 @kats72 @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @mochie85 @princess-asgard @holdmytesseract @lokixryss @peaches1958

Let me know if you want to be taken off or added to this list! 💚

[pantoneyoongi]

neon signs | we are not cut out for this

title ; we are not cut out for this  pairing ; campus crush!yoongi x campus crush!you 

notes ; 

this is part of the neon signs drabble series, where drabbles are released in random order (but listed chronologically in the masterlist!) 

series description ;

namjoon doesn’t think it can get any clearer outside of yoongi building a giant neon sign saying i have the absolute biggest crush on you but apparently, book smarts don’t exactly translate when it comes to you and your massive crush on min yoongi. 

(alternatively: namjoon and hoseok try for three years straight to get you and yoongi together.) 

word count ; 2.7k

tags ; halloweekend, drinking, is it clear yet that i’ve never been to a single frat party, pls go to masterlist for more / general tags 

in case anybody asks, namjoon is always right. he was right when he told you not to eat the questionable fish sticks, he was right when he said you were never even once going to use the (super cute!) planner you bought for college, and he’s right about the fact that not a single one of you should’ve gone to this party. 

first of all, it’s a halloween party. the first night of halloweekend, where hoseok said we have to go, it’s a part of the college experience, so you all managed to scrounge together a costume because it is really hard to say no to hoseok when he’s particularly insistent on something. 

yoongi put what is probably the literal least amount of effort any human being could possibly put into a costume. he doesn’t even look altogether that different; he just looks like himself, but instead of regular blue jeans he’s in black jeans. 

“what… exactly are you supposed to be?” you ask, scanning his all-black ensemble. he blinks back at you. his eyes shift a little. 

“a stagehand,” he responds plainly. 

your brows lift. “oh,” you reply lightly. (a future you who knows yoongi better and can read his tells a little more will realize yoongi was absolutely talking out of his ass. he straight up did not dress up, at all. but current you decides not to question it.) 

the party doesn’t start off particularly poorly. you think you might be a little overdressed for it (what? it’s cold outside and you’ve never been to one of these before) but nonetheless you meet a couple already-tipsy people and make a few new friends who you’re sure will have no idea who you are by the morning. 

it’s not until halfway past midnight that things start to go a little… 

south. 

.

.

.

you’ve lost sight of namjoon. yoongi’s lost sight of hoseok. but you still have sight of yoongi, and with a hesitant hand, you reach out to try and grab hold of the corner of his shirt (you’d yell instead, but you can’t hear shit over the sound of the booming bass. you were just gonna settle for miming, honestly), but then you see it. 

or rather, them. 

even with the music as loud as it is, you think you can hear yoongi’s groan, the way his hand comes up to massage the headache that, if he didn’t have one before, he definitely has one now. your jaw is on the ground and you kind of want to bury your face into yoongi’s back just to hide your own secondhand embarrassment. 

namjoon has never been drunk before. he’s had sips of alcohol at family functions, but you’re fairly certain he has never downed drinks the way one does at a frat party. “i don’t feel anything,” namjoon had said after his first shot, which then led to a series of shots and the worst thing you’ve ever witnessed. 

you’re not really sure how the shoddy table is holding him up. you’re actually a little concerned that he’ll either break the table or fall, neither of which you’re equipped to help with because namjoon is twice the size of you. “oh no,” you whimper to no one in particular. “oh, no.” 

you want to scrub your eyes with bleach. you’re sure namjoon would too, if the usually composed man saw what he was doing right now, the obscenity of your best friend doing what can only be described as ‘shaking ass’ on top of a table, surrounded by a crowd of equally wasted people who are clearly enjoying the view. hoseok was standing on the table with him, but he disappears out of sight for you again when he sits down on the edge of the table, energy suddenly extinguished. 

yoongi can still see him, though, since he’s taller than you. “oh god,” yoongi mutters. hoseok looks like he’s entering a third plane of existence, eyes wide and jaw slightly ajar. 

it gets worse. namjoon’s voice booms through the crowd and you wonder if it’s too late to revoke your best friend card. “uh,” yoongi coughs, leaning down to reach you. “is he - is he doing what i think he’s doing?” 

your hand wraps around yoongi’s bicep lightly as you tip-toe to talk back into his ear. “if reciting various philosophy theories while trying to throw his back out is what you think he’s doing, then yes.” 

yoongi turns to face you. you stare back at him. he opens his mouth, then shuts it. then opens it again. then shuts it. with a sigh of someone who is left with no other choice, he grabs you by the wrist and tugs you through the crowd, releasing you only when you reach the table, both your heads tilted back to stare up at namjoon. 

yoongi glances at you. he points to hoseok, then himself, then you, to namjoon. you grimace. you wish you could leave namjoon with yoongi, but unfortunately, the best friend title belongs to you. you nod. 

yoongi melts into the crowd, headed towards hoseok. you watch your drunk-off-his-ass friend for as long as you can stand it, before you call his name, trying to get his attention above the noise both the music and himself are making. 

“hey plato,” you yell. “or socrates, whatever, i don’t remember. can you come here please?” 

namjoon crouches and thank god his haphazard bed sheet costume covers everything it needs to cover. “hi y/n,” he slurs, and you feel like you’re genuinely at risk of him tumbling right off the edge and you winding up crushed underneath him. you really wish yoongi had taken namjoon instead. 

“come down, please?” you ask sweetly. you have no idea how to handle a drunk namjoon. drunk namjoon is not exactly anything like sober namjoon, apparently. 

you thank every spiritual entity you can and can’t think of when namjoon slides off the table obediently. it’s a blessing that drunk namjoon is more susceptible to listening to you than sober namjoon is, as you grab onto his wobbly figure to keep him upright and not faceplanted onto the floor. though you get the feeling if he goes down, you’re going with him. 

now that you have namjoon, the crowd is slowly starting to dissipate. you search the room for yoongi, entirely unaware of the curious eyes on you - if anything, you figure it’s just people wondering about namjoon’s next move, since he is still talking very loudly about philosophers. 

you catch sight of yoongi. he’s kind of hard to miss, because - well - everyone’s caught sight of yoongi, it seems. the all black thing is working wonders for him. 

for a moment, you just watch. there’s a crowd of people around both him and hoseok, and you think you might’ve only seen this scene in movies or tv shows, the way girls surround yoongi, batting their eyelashes at him, offering their help, but even to someone as oblivious as you, you can tell the offer is only to spend a little extra time with yoongi. 

you’ve never really thought hard about it before - never had to - but the fleeting moments when your brain randomly registers that both yoongi and hoseok are very handsome locks in now, solidifying in your brain who exactly you’re friends with. 

yoongi isn’t smiling anymore, ducking his head and nodding and trying to get through the crowd with a tipsy hoseok. if you didn’t know any better, yoongi might’ve looked annoyed by the attention, which only seems to make him garner even more. 

but you know better. just a little bit. you know he’s just trying to calculate the fastest way to make it out of the crowd without being rude, but it translates into a stand-offish attitude with curt responses before his eyes find yours. you try to smile, but between the nagging feeling in your chest and the literal weight of namjoon on your arm, it looks a lot more like a grimace. 

you see more so than hear yoongi say a few words, then he slips through, towards you. “trade,” he says, sounding slightly out of breath, and suddenly you’ve got hoseok’s arm looped over your shoulder, and namjoon is wrapped around yoongi. they’re sobering, slowly - but yoongi has to elbow namjoon hard in the gut to get him to jolt up a little, stumbling towards the nearest exit you can find. 

you glance at yoongi as he leads the way out, and something about the way he looks over his shoulder at you sets off butterflies in your stomach that you choose to ignore. he’s just a little extra handsome today, that’s all. the definition of tall, dark, and brooding. 

it’s an excuse you won’t be able to use for much longer, but while you still have a far from sober hoseok draped over you, that’s what you’ll settle for. 

.

.

.

yoongi collapses onto the curb beside you with a loud exhale, drawing his knees up and hanging his arms over them. hoseok is passed out on the grass beside you, while namjoon is still up, stumbling as he wanders about, but you can tell he’s slowly sobering up. yoongi keeps his eyes on him though, making sure not to lose sight of him. 

you sit in silence together, waiting for the uber yoongi had called for. you pull your knees up too, wrapping your arms under your thighs. even with the gloves on your hands extending up to your elbows, you still feel cold. yoongi doesn’t look much better, goosebumps raising along his bare arms. 

“thanks for coming tonight,” he says suddenly, voice a little gruff. two months into knowing him but every so often you still find yourself adjusting to the way yoongi speaks, listening carefully for the undertones rather than the surface level. he doesn’t look at you, keeping his eyes trained on namjoon, but he continues, a little softer this time, “you really didn’t have to. hoseok’s a little…”  yoongi trails off when he can’t quite find the words, nose scrunching. “well, he wouldn’t have forced you,” he settles on saying. yoongi finally turns back to you then, but the way he looks at you makes you wish he’d go back to tracking namjoon. there’s a flutter in your chest that’s getting a little too dangerous, a little too soon.

you shrug it off. “it’s okay, i wanted to come,” you reassure him. “he was right. it’s part of the college experience.”

“some things you don’t need to experience,” yoongi says dryly, and you laugh, earning a flash of teeth back when he grins. he leans back on his arms, heaving a sigh. “we are not cut out for this.” 

you hide a smile. considering namjoon is currently explaining in intense detail to a shrub the concept of free will vs determinism, you’re inclined to agree. when namjoon wakes up with a raging hangover tomorrow, you have no doubt the first words out of his mouth will be, “i told you this was a bad idea.” 

yoongi pulls your attention back, reaching over to pinch lightly at the cloth of your costume. “i didn’t ask earlier. what’d you come as?” 

your ears turn pink, but you attribute it to the cold, and not the brush of his hands as he pulls away. “katara, from avatar,” you admit shyly. “but i didn’t really have much time to prepare, so i guess it’s not obvious.” 

you slide your arms out from under your thighs, fiddling with the gloves. “i was hoping the gloves might keep me at least a little warm, but it only really helped for dodging all the sticky stuff inside. nobody told me frat parties are really…” you make a face. “gross.” 

yoongi snorts. “yeah,” he agrees easily. he sucks in a breath between his teeth. “let’s not do this again. once is enough.” 

“you didn’t try partying last year?” 

yoongi glances at you through his peripheral. “i need hoseok to remind me to smile,” he arches an eyebrow. “somehow i don’t think parties suit me.”

“the girls in there would probably disagree,” you mumble under your breath off-hand with a tilt of your head. you don’t expect it when yoongi leans in closer, trying to hear you. 

“hm?” 

you clear your throat. “nothing,” you draw away, choosing to watch namjoon instead of focusing on yoongi’s proximity. you can still feel yoongi’s eyes on you, and suddenly you don’t feel altogether that cold anymore, cheeks heating from his gaze. 

“you know,” he starts again, bringing your attention back to him. “i like this better.” 

you blink back at him questioningly. “what’s better?” 

the corner of one side of his lips pulls up, and his next words tug at your heartstrings. 

“talking to you.” 

.

.

.

the next couple weeks changes a lot of things for not only you, but yoongi, too. you don’t attribute it to the party (and neither does yoongi) - but hoseok and namjoon always have their ears to the ground, with the latest news in campus gossip. 

okay - maybe just hoseok does. namjoon only knows because - 

“if one more person asks me if i’m your boyfriend or if they know if you’re dating someone-!” namjoon accidentally tips over a bottle when he collapses onto the bench across from you, scrambling to grab it before it rolls off the table. you watch patiently when it inevitably does, namjoon nearly falling off the bench to grab it and place it back on the table. 

he huffs. “anyway. as i was saying. people keep asking me about you, y/n.” 

you raise your hands, shrugging. “i don’t know why. you’re the one that made all the commotion that night, joonie.” 

“it’s because they think you’re cute,” hoseok slides onto the bench next to namjoon, nursing a cup of coffee. “people keep asking me for yoongi’s number, too.” 

you pause at that. “there were a lot of girls around him that night.” 

hoseok shrugs. “he was always popular in his major. lots of the engineering kids like him. but you know him,” he gestures towards yoongi who is crossing the courtyard to join you. “he’s a bit… scary looking.” 

you turn your head, and true to hoseok’s word, yoongi’s expression is flat-lined again, bordering on annoyed. he has his hands shoved into his pockets and a beanie pulled low over his ears, wired earphones in. he looks unapproachable. he looks like someone who doesn’t want to be bothered, at all. he looks like the classmate you were sure was going to hate you for the rest of the semester, without rhyme or reason, just for existing. 

but then he reaches you, and his expression transforms, a small smile forming on his face and his eyes lighting up. he tugs his earphones out, and swings his legs over the bench to sit next to you, hands pulled out of his pockets to rest on the picnic table. 

“hi,” he greets softly. he doesn’t look so untouchable anymore - just cozy in his hoodie, happy to be around his friends. you can’t seem to take your eyes off him. 

he swipes his beanie off his head, ruffling his hair a little. then, before you can realize what’s happening, he tugs the beanie over your head, making sure it’s snug over your ears. 

“there,” he looks pleased with himself. “not so cold anymore.” 

he throws the hood of his hoodie up in replacement of his lost hat, and smiles at you in that way where his eyes disappear, curving into happy crescents. 

you’re in trouble. you know you’re in trouble. yoongi has half the campus on their radar; you can’t be letting the little things yoongi does tally up in your head, immortalize themselves into vibrant memories when they’re just habits that yoongi has. you shouldn’t put meaning into everything he does with you just because he happens to accidentally seem mean and cold on the outside when he’s actually gentle and warm. it’s not that he’s being special to you - he’s just being yoongi. 

but when you’re not paying attention, too busy bickering with namjoon about something inconsequential (that’ll inevitably be a contention point for the two of you for the next three weeks anyway), yoongi sneaks glances at you. the stony expression he’s so well known for fades away, leaving just the faint outline of a smile and soft eyes that follow your every movement. 

when yoongi’s around you, his default changes. there’s no need to remind him to smile - around you, it’s the only thing he knows how to do. 

series masterlist ; neon signs

[jaejena]

masquerade. — l, juyeon.

Masquerade! Paper faces on parade Masquerade! Hide your face so the world will never find you!

— premise : there is no place for a lowly knight like juyeon and nobility like you to be together. but with or without blessings, the choice is to be made between the two of you. — now playing : masquerade by andrew lloyd weber.

— genre : angst, with a good end. historical au??? — warning(s) : y/n has disapproving parents who impose what they think is good for their child.  — word count : 1.5 k. — author’s note : was in a phantom of the opera mood! this was my attempt at breaking free from my writer’s block. if listening to the track for the first time, i recommend to listen for a minute (or three) to get the vibes unless you want to get jumpscared by the next track connected to it lol--

The sound of the spirited strings resonating in this ballroom seemed distant to you. The music orchestrates the swishing of lavish dresses and mingling dance steps. But, floating across the floor, you feel like a lone ship lost at sea.

Your sights barely shift behind your masquerade mask, avoiding the gaze of yet again one of your many dance partners tonight. A mere stranger and your slight discomfort to ignore again. 

Your feet act on their own, going through the motions, and assimilating you into the life you’ve always known. The life you will only know. A part of an intricate music box, a shell of who you are.

You did not like nights like these—

No, no. 

You hated nights like these.

Nights where you were reminded how marriage prospects ruled your future. This is where young nobles were used as bargaining chips. 

But what prospects were so necessary in times of peace? You learned quickly that all the nobility wanted to do is sit on their generational wealth. Hoard and clutch onto their bountiful land, riches, and status that their mighty, greedy hands could reach. 

All that Juyeon did not have. 

Juyeon was a knight with no war to fight, with no glory nor medal to his name. He’d the honour of protecting you, however. He’d given you companionship and safety. With him, you felt seen.

It was him whom you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

You tested the waters once, veiled as a humorous suggestion.

“Marry Juyeon?” The malice in your father’s tone wasn’t lost on you. His booming laughter harshly bounced off the dining hall, leaving you frozen in your seat. Your mother gives you an unamused, pointed look across the table. 

Not a hint of consideration on their faces.

You force a weak chuckle, eyes downcast to the food on your plate. 

“What will he give you?” Your father managed to sputter out in between his laughing fit, “Some dingy shack in town? Rags from the market?” He sat back, barely recovering, “You’ll labour your life away!” 

Does any of that matter? You struggled to plaster a lighthearted smile on your face as you resumed eating. The anger clouded your mind for the rest of the day.

Through the garden—your safe haven—it was Juyeon who walked patiently by your side, the one who’d listened to every word you rambled out of that mouth of yours. It was Juyeon who contemplated deeply, the one who answered you with sincerity so profound. 

In the end, you realized that you found more solace in Juyeon. To him, you weren’t a proper noble to be guarded and accounted for. With him, you could just be. Those were the precious joys in your day-to-day life. He was the safe space in between the expectations of noble duties.

Then those days were gone. Perhaps the glances you exchanged lingered for too long, or the smiles lifted between the two of you were too fond. Perhaps it was the lessened distance too unfitting between the knight and his lord’s heir.

“He’s gone,” the finality in your father’s words plunged you into a sobering terror. “He’s not allowed to come near us,” he accusingly fixes his gaze on you, “Near you.”

He found out. 

Juyeon was banished. Not a warning, nor a goodbye.

It was a rude awakening. Juyeon would’ve never been welcomed into your life; he was to be removed and never considered worthy of a chance.

You pull yourself out of your trance, your feet still carrying you across the ballroom, and your eyes roaming across the scene. Guests parade in pairs, twirling in unison.

The two of you could never waltz in this damned ballroom without shame, in the faces of old money. There is no prevailing love for both of you. You are beginning to wonder if it is time to bury the utter defeat in your heart, with the bitter grief fresh in your mouth.

“Excuse me.” 

The voice of another man skids you into a halt and—just for a moment—the beating of your heart. 

You can’t believe it.

You turn on your heel, meeting the eyes behind the man’s masquerade mask. 

A gasp nearly bubbles out of your chest, just barely muffled as you clamp your lips shut.

Juyeon.

“Apologies for the interruption but,” He lifts up a polite smile, a knowing smile. He holds his hand outstretched for you to take, “May I have the honour of a dance?” 

You barely contain the smile spreading across your expression, eyes flickering between Juyeon and your dance partner. 

A flash of displeasure appears on your partner’s face, his hands remaining on you. But as he identifies the familiarity in your eyes, he begrudgingly steps away. 

You make sure to bow out of courtesy, as does he. And when he leaves you to your new dance partner, a warmth in your chest blooms.

Turning to meet Juyeon in the eye, you savour each step towards him with a bright smile. 

Juyeon, shining in a simple suit and his hair slicked back, with his hand ready to lead you across the ballroom.

You gladly take it.

Juyeon holds your hand up to the side, gently placing his other hand on your waist. As he pulls you slightly closer, he whispers with a humorous smile, “You looked like you needed some saving.”

A bewildered, delighted smile of your own grows as the two of you begin to sway to the music. You manage to joke, “True to your duties.” You lean in just slightly, “How did you get here?” Your words spill in a hush as your eyes dart across the ballroom, conscious of the guests around you.

They are paying no mind to him at all. Not a single sneer or scowl in sight. 

Juyeon tilts his head, pretending to ponder, “Your father might’ve forgotten that I still have a few good friends working under him.” A mischievous glint appears in his eyes, “Friends who are probably stationed in certain places for tonight’s event.”

And you grin, “Of course.” Of course, he would overlook something like that. 

Then the music fills in the silence between the two of you. It is comfortable, it is meaningful. The smiles on your faces don’t leave. Unbeknownst to everyone around you, you are dancing freely with the only partner you’ve wanted.

It is in holding onto each other once again that you realize a truth. 

You never want to live like this. In fear of being seen together by the wrong person. In fear that, if you let him go, that it may be the last time you do. 

As you look over your shoulder, the ball around you starts to seem like a distant memory you desperately want to leave behind. Tucked in the crowd and faces hidden away, if this is what it would take to have Juyeon by your side..

He didn’t deserve it. 

He can’t keep on doing this, nor can you.

Fear, determination, and finality fill you to the brim.

“Y/N.”

You look into Juyeon’s eyes again.

“I came here for a reason.”

There is an acknowledgment that your gazes hold, reflecting upon each other. The same burning question in your hearts.

Is this goodbye?

What goodbye it would be. A goodbye with no peace and quiet, choking back on tears to save face in front of hundreds of strangers. So close to being in each other’s embrace, but knowing that there will be no such indulgence.

“Your father is right.” He starts, and you feel your heart break at that prospect. “I come from nothing,” Juyeon continues, “I don’t have what he wants me to offer.” His chest huffs up, almost as if he is summoning any courage he could possess, “And I have no right to make you leave the life you’ve always known.”

“Juyeon—”

“But if you will have me despite it all,” The hidden uncertainty imbued in his brave smile makes your heart crumble, “Then there’ll be nothing more that I can possibly ask for.” 

An opportunity for choice, an empowerment between you and him.

“Whatever you choose, Y/N,” He whispers, “I will accept it.”

It was a leap of faith, no hesitation permitted.

Will this be goodbye?

Deep down, you knew the answer.

Perhaps it was foolish for your father to call upon a grand masquerade in his own estate. The disappearances of two masks in the sea of guests did not matter to anyone until it was much too late. You didn’t know how much your father hounded for your whereabouts that night, nor was it on your mind when you fled with Juyeon hand in hand. 

Far, far away, the two of you would create a garden, with humble beginnings and by your own hands. Your own, where both of you can just be. No scrutiny, no judgment. 

Together, you manage to create a place where the duties and statuses of noble and knight mattered not. 

The world will never find you.

[sparkbeast20]

The Pain of Love (Lucifer X MC)

The Blue Lotus petals

As a fan of Beauty and the Beast, Showing your “true self” to Lover or (Monster Love) Tropes. I figure to make a (More Demonic Forms AU/head canon) story for each brothers. heads up each brother’s Story is long as fuck. So, I'll be posting them as parts and finishing one brother before moving on to the rest of them. (tell me if you want tag)

Warning: Before and after Sex but no depiction of sex sorry I don't know how to write smut, The other six kinda being torture

“Yeah, I do hear the eerie voices in this one” you were laying in the couch in Lucifer’s study, while listening to one of his curse records.

“Just make sure you don’t listen to the end, you might get nightmares, we don’t need two insomniacs in our bed.” All the while Lucifer is doing some early paper work before breakfast. You just came along with him, because you couldn’t go back to sleep.

“We wouldn’t even have one, if a certain demon learns to sleep within 8 hours” he chuckles at your poor attempt of a sley comment.

“I’ll take full advantage of this morning, since we don’t class today, that way we have the entire afternoon together”

“Promise!”

“I Promise, now cut the record, the end is approaching”

You lifted the nailed, the you sat up and stretch your arms before standing up and walk over to Lucifer, you wrap your arms around is shoulders, lean forward and kiss the top of his head. He hums at your presents.

You move down and whisper in his ear. “You want some coffee, Lucifer” you pulled away to meet his sight, he nods with a smirk on his face, then you let go and start walking up the stairs. As you about to turn the knob, he calls to you.

“Y/n, as of today no more, blue lotus petals in my coffee for now on.”

“Okay, anything else?”

“Just make sure it’s bitter, okay love” with that you gave him a playful smile and left.

“Oh sweet, yer making coffee, mind make me one too” Mammon just steps in the kitchen, happy to smell coffee in the air.

“You can have mine, I really only made for me and Lucifer” you tell him that, while waiting for the coffee to get ready.

“So, his up all ready what’s he doing now.” Mammon asks while his digging through the cabins for something.

“Finishing some bills, this month’s plan actives for RAD, and the house budgets” you answer as you pour the two mugs with coffee.

“Should I start running now or pray that none of those bills are mine”

“Just wait in an hour to see” you smile at him, you fully know that he needs to hide now, as you pass him the mug of coffee. He took it with uncertain look on his face and drop two blue petals in his coffee.

“Hey, you forgot these” you’re at the doorway, when you turn around with coffee in hand to see Mammon holding up the blue lotus petals.

“Lucifer said no more petals in his coffee”

“What!”

“Something wrong?” after a moment Mammon shake his head, tells you it’s nothing, you shrug your shoulder and walk back to Lucifer.

“Oh… Y/n, be a doll and untie us” Asmo calls to make you to look up into the ceiling to see Mammon, Levi, Satan with cloth in his mouth, Asmo, and Belphie who also have a cloth in his mouth, Strang up by their legs.

“Let me guess, one could stop ordering online, the two of you try to sneak out late in a school night, and the last two pull something that piss of the eldest” you said nonchalantly, causing Satan to violently flail, Mammon and Levi crying.

Asmo tries to fix his head to look at you properly, bashing his eye lash to soften up to you “Oh come on, you know us this is what we are, haven’t you notice that Lucifer has been a little~”

“Strict lately” you finish what he was about to say, Asmo pouts with his lower lip stick out and look at you with sad puppy eyes begging you to untie them.

In your mind, you want to untie them but remembering what Lucifer said “don’t cave to them, understand” cause you to hesitate. When all of the sudden the door slam open, causing you to turn around to see Lucifer in his demon form, dragging a tie up Beel, the latter which is sobbing.

Hearing his twin sobbing wakes up Belphie who start to flail around like Satan.

You don’t why, but you started to turn redder, you can feel the heat rushing through your face. Maybe Seeing Lucifer dragging Beel with one arm and dominant look on his face makes you want to hold him tight and cuddle into his chest.

While you just standing there awestruck, Lucifer manage to Strang up Beel next to Belphie.

“Oi Y/n, tell Lucifer that is gone too far” Mammon calls out to you

“Y-yeah, out of any of us Beel does have to Strang like this” Levi adds to Mammon call, while Belphie mummer through the cloth to grab your attention.

“Enough, Beelzebub is only going Strang up for 2 hours. For empty the fridge 2 days straight and all of you just have to wait 6 more hours depending on who has the least offense” Lucifer tells his brothers with a booming voice, then all of them started to yell, cry, and/or mummer at him.

He was about to yell, when all of the sudden you hug him and bury you face into chest, seeing your action shock the brothers.

Without looking away from his brothers, place one arm on your back drawing you closer. You look up at his face with your eyes of filled with lust and your face with red through your cheek.

He looks down, a smile creep up on his face, he cups your face drawing it closer to his.

Then you pouch kissing him like untamed animal, wrapping your arms around his neck not letting him pull away, as his arms rub around your back, one hand on your shoulder while the other one is on your waist.

Seeing you two practically eating each, the brothers watch in horror, Mammon and Levi are screaming in agony, Satan and Belphie try to look away but couldn’t, and Asmo and Beel are mortifed.

Hearing his brothers in pain, cause Lucifer to growl aggressively in pleasure, then he sweeps you off your feet while you two are still kissing taking you somewhere private, as you two slowly walk away to savior the screams, you slowly pull-out foldable knife that Mammon gave to you from your pocket and throw it at Beel, seeing the knife Beel swing forward and catch the knife with his teeth, and hums in happiness for catching it, then Lucifer slam the door closes.

“I’m hungry” Beel sitting in the dinning room groaning in pain, with the rest of the brothers still recover from Lucifer’s punishment.

Mammon, Levi, Satan, and Asmo rub their neck, arms and legs to less the street on them, while Belphie is collapse on the table awake.

“S-so which one of us want to asks Lucifer M-money for dinner” Levi asks around to who’s brave enough to go Lucifer’s room and asks him.

“Are you mad! I would rather use my own money, then going to that monster right now” Mammon yell at Levi, for suggesting that.

“I want to pull out my eyes and burn them” Satan talk to himself, trying to forget what he had to watch helpless.

Then foot steps can be heard, causing the brothers stiff in place except for Levi who hide under the table.

Not even at the doorway you start talking to them “So Lucifer asks me to give you money for take-out, and tell all of you that we’ll be skipping dinner too”

Asmo back to his cheerful self, wanting to know what drove you into acting like him ask while waiting for you to come inside the room, both hands under his chin and elbows rest on the table with his eyes gleefully close.

“Oh, are you and my big brother done~” before he could finish his question, he turns to the doorway and open his eyes to see you.

His eyes widen as he let out shock gasp, causing the rest to look up and did the same thing.

You were barely standing wearing Lucifer’s robe and nothing else, dark hand grips around both of your wrists, your almost expose chest is covered in hickeys, bite marks and three visible claw marks. And your messy hair is covered your face.

With a goofy smile, you slowly walk over to the table and place half stack of grimms on it, then slowly walk out the room leave the brothers stunned.

After a few minutes of complete silent, Mammon remembering something, cause him to yelp to himself, knowing fully well that there are royal screwed for the coming weeks.