#WHEN I KNOWINGLY PREPARED MYSELF FOR IT

[svt-luna]

ʚིᵋ ⋆ NANA TOUR ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── episode 1-2.

Nana Tour with SEVENTEEN

synopsis: Episode 1-2! Off to Italy. Get on the plane, into the rhythm. Here they go, Italy! SEVENTEEN is beyond excited for the vacation that they simply couldn’t control themselves at the airport and on the plane.

SURPRISE!!! i know i said i will be focusing on publishing all the one-shots in my drafts before i continue my other series’ but i simply couldn’t help myself!! it’s been a month since i started nana tour and i know you guys have been waiting and are excited for more so… here it’s is!! episode 1-2 is relatively shorter so i will be adding additional scenes (this will be the norm for shorter episodes), so send me ideas you potentially want to add and see that weren’t in the final episodes!! enjoy and happy reading, my loves 🤍💙

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST

╰ ౨ৎ fan reactions ╰ ౨ৎ nana tour masterlist

[added captions are in brackets] ღ

bold dialogues are spoken in english ღ

The members began climbing into the bus one by one, their chatter filling the crisp evening air. The vehicle’s interior buzzed with energy as they settled in, each of them moving toward the back section where the seats surrounded two small tables. Despite the chaotic shuffling, the laughter and teasing were lighthearted as they began claiming their spots.

[Party bus for SEVENTEEN]

Jeonghan entered just behind Joshua, glancing at the seating arrangement. Woozi had taken a seat facing the table directly, but Jeonghan raised his voice over the noise. “Woozi, scoot over one seat, please,” he said gently but with purpose, pointing to the side. “Jiyeonie’s going to get car sick if she doesn’t face forward.”

Woozi blinked up at him but complied, shifting over without much protest. “Okay, okay,” he muttered as he slid across the seat.

“What’s going on?” Dokyeom asked, amused as he plopped down next to Jun.

“Jeonghan’s setting up the seating plan,” Vernon teased as he leaned back in his chair. “Vice leader vibes.”

[Jeonghan: Vice Leader of SEVENTEEN]

Jeonghan simply hummed, turning back toward the bus door as the rest of the members shuffled and rearranged their spots. Once everything was more or less settled, their attention turned to the two figures still lingering outside the bus— Luna and Seungcheol.

Luna stood hesitantly, clutching her red bunny plushie, Cherry, tightly in her arms as she looked up at Seungcheol. Her expression wavered between reluctance and disappointment, her brows slightly furrowed. After a hesitant farewell to Seungcheol, who gently encouraged her to board, Luna finally nodded. She climbed onto the bus, her plushie tucked protectively against her chest.

[Bunny Luna with bunny Cherry a.k.a bunny S.Coups]

As soon as she stepped inside, the back section went quiet for a moment as everyone turned to her, amusement flickering in their eyes. Her slightly pouty lips and furrowed brows made her emotions clear— she didn’t like it when their group wasn’t complete.

“She’s disappointed,” Joshua cooed, a teasing smile on his face.

The rest of the members nodded knowingly, their chuckles soft as they watched her.

Luna stopped by the aisle, looking at the seats. “Where do I sit?” she asked, her voice small but curious.

Jeonghan, already prepared, pointed to the empty seat between Mingyu and Minghao. “Over there, Nana-ya,” he said softly, motioning toward the forward-facing seat. “You’ll feel better sitting in that direction. Go on.”

Luna nodded, shuffling down the narrow aisle and stopping by the designated seat. Minghao and Mingyu shifted slightly, making space for her to slide in. Carefully, she maneuvered between their legs before slumping down into the seat, letting out a small huff as she adjusted Cherry on her lap.

“Aigo… I’m tired already,” she murmured, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her face. Without hesitation, she leaned her head on Minghao’s shoulder, her breath light and warm as she rested.

Minghao chuckled, tilting his head slightly to accommodate her. “You barely got on, Jiyeonie.”

[Low power]

The others laughed softly at her antics, their chatter resuming as they prepared for the trip ahead.

Hoshi, seated by the window, suddenly perked up and moved the curtain aside. “Guys, our CEO is outside,” he announced, his tone half-surprised, half-amused.

Everyone turned their attention to the window, peering out to see their CEO standing there, waving enthusiastically at them.

“We’ll be back safely!” Dokyeom called out, his voice cheerful.

Meanwhile, Mingyu, Luna, and Minghao giggled as they watched their CEO repeatedly bow and apologize to Minghao by the window.

“The8, I love you,” their CEO said earnestly, earning a soft chuckle from Minghao.

“Okay,” Minghao replied, calm as ever.

“I’m really sorry,” their CEO continued apologizing, he repeated again as if to plead.

[Apologizes for the lies]

“No, no, no,” Minghao reassured him, raising a hand. “Schedule it for me later.”

Mingyu burst into laughter at Minghao’s deadpan tone, and even Luna, her head still on Minghao’s shoulder, giggled softly. “Hao, you’re funny,” she said, her voice warm with affection.

“He asked them to schedule it later,” Mingyu repeated, still laughing as he told the others.

The bus erupted into laughter, the mood light and lively as they watched the scene unfold outside.

“The staff are apologizing to Minghao,” Woozi noted dryly, shaking his head slightly in amusement.

“Goodbye!” a familiar voice called out from outside. It was Seungcheol, standing a little behind their CEO, his hand raised in a wave.

“Aigo… Cheollie… bye-bye,” Luna said, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness as she waved back at him through the window.

[Leaving S.Coups makes Luna sad]

“Okay! We’ll be back!” Hoshi told Seungcheol, grinning brightly.

As the bus engine roared to life and began moving, Luna turned back to the window. She caught sight of Seungcheol still standing there, his hands moving deliberately as if he were writing something in the air.

[?]

“What?” Luna mouthed, furrowing her brows in confusion.

Seungcheol repeated the gesture, his lips forming the words “My letter.”

Luna blinked, still unsure of what he meant but nodding anyway. “My letter,” she read his lips again, her brows knitting slightly as she gave him one final wave.

[What could it be?]

The bus pulled away, leaving him behind as they set off on their journey.

The bus hummed softly as it cruised along the highway, carrying the members of SEVENTEEN toward the airport. The early morning light filtered through the windows, casting a golden glow over the group. Most of them were still waking up from the rush of getting on the bus, their chatter muted and interspersed with soft yawns and quiet laughter. The absence of Seungcheol lingered in the air, but the members tried to lift the mood with their usual antics.

“Wow, we are really going on a trip to Rome for a week?” Jeonghan asked, his voice carrying a touch of lazy amusement, though the glimmer of excitement in his eyes betrayed him. He leaned back in his seat, head resting against the window as he gazed out at the moving scenery.

“It’s awesome,” Hoshi said, his enthusiasm evident. His eyes darted around the bus, taking in the crew members and his fellow teammates.

“This is a memory. Should we take a picture?” Dino asked suddenly, leaning forward in his seat as the idea struck him. His smile was bright, filled with the kind of energy that was contagious even in the subdued atmosphere. He pulled out his phone and waved it in the air before handing it to Seungkwan.

Hoshi accepted the phone, turning it around to position it for a selfie. He extended his arm out as far as it could go, adjusting the angle to fit everyone in the frame. “Alright, get ready. One, two, three…”

The camera shutter clicked as they smiled, each of them wearing expressions ranging from bright grins to subtle smirks. Hoshi glanced down at the phone, grinning. “One more! One, two, three…”

This time, their expressions and poses shifted—peace signs, exaggerated pouts, and playful winks. Another click echoed through the bus.

“One more, one more!” Hoshi said, his enthusiasm sparking laughter from the group. They leaned into each other, pulling faces and throwing up random gestures. “One, two, three…” The final shutter sound snapped through the air, marking the end of their mini photo session.

From the front of the bus, one of PD Na’s producers chuckled softly, catching the group’s antics as they reviewed their pictures. “Your poses are just an automatic reflex,” the producer remarked, his tone light and amused. The rest of the crew watched the scene unfold with smiles, their cameras capturing candid moments of SEVENTEEN’s camaraderie.

[Idol reflexes]

As the laughter settled, PD Na’s voice broke through the hum of the bus. “Customers, you guys all got on, right?” His tone mimicked that of a professional tour guide, filled with exaggerated formality.

“Yes!” came the resounding chorus of responses from the members, their enthusiasm almost synchronized.

“Thank you so much for using ‘NANA TOUR,’” PD Na continued, his delivery earning a round of applause from the group.

“Thank you so much,” he repeated, pausing briefly before launching into the next part of his announcement. “Once we get to Italy, we have some pocket money that we are going to use. Everything is included once you get there, so you don’t really need pocket money…” His words trailed off, his tone hinting at something left unsaid.

Luna, seated comfortably beside Minghao with her head resting on his shoulder, let out a soft giggle. She absently fiddled with Cherry the bunny that sat on her lap, its soft plush fur comforting under her fingers. Her giggle drew Minghao’s attention, and he glanced down at her with a curious smile.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

She tilted her head slightly, her smile widening. “I just know he is going to make us play for money at some point.” she whispered back, her amusement clear.

[Maybe…]

PD Na, oblivious to her quiet commentary, continued speaking. “Still… you personally might need money you need to spend— a small amount of pocket money will be given.” His voice carried through the bus, commanding the attention of the members.

“100 euros per person for pocket money. We prepared 1,400 euros for now. That’s roughly around 1.5 million won,” he explained, his words met with nods from the group.

The hum of the bus persisted as PD Na’s voice cut through the light chatter. With the members’ attention drawn toward him, he continued with his usual composed yet playful demeanor.

“If you pick the person you trust the most as the manager, we will give that person the money,” PD Na announced.

The group fell into a brief silence, exchanging looks as they deliberated. Hoshi was the first to break the silence, leaning slightly forward with a grin.

“Dino is the manager,” Hoshi declared confidently, his tone leaving no room for debate.

“Yes,” Woozi agreed almost immediately, his calm and concise tone adding a layer of finality to Hoshi’s statement.

Luna, who was still comfortably nestled against Minghao’s shoulder, simply nodded, her agreement clear.

Dino sat up straighter in his seat before nodding in agreement. “Between our parents… that… out of the managers… parents… my parents do it.”

[???]

The bus fell silent again, but this time it was filled with confusion. Dino’s words hung in the air like a puzzle no one could quite piece together. His stammered explanation hinted he might still be half-asleep— or perhaps still a little tipsy— left both the crew and PD Na blinking in bewilderment.

PD Na, ever the professional, attempted to process the nonsensical statement. But the confusion quickly gave way to laughter as the realization set in that there was no understanding what Dino had just said. PD Na chuckled, his shoulders shaking lightly as he tried to decipher the jumbled words.

Luna, however, was quicker to react. She shifted, lifting her head from Minghao’s shoulder and straightening her posture. With an expression as deadpan as ever, she turned toward Dino. “Wah… I wanna see what you just said written on paper.”

Her sudden retort was met with immediate laughter. PD Na let out a loud, hearty laugh, leaning back in his seat as the absurdity of the situation hit him all over again. The crew joined in, their chuckles mingling with the laughter of the members, who had now all turned to look at Luna.

“Channie… you made no sense whatsoever. Are you okay? Are you still drunk?” Luna continued, her tone calm but laced with a teasing edge as her lips curled into a small smirk. The members doubled over in laughter at her casual jabs, and even Dino couldn’t help but laugh at himself.

[Effects of drunk freestyle rapping whilst sleep deprived]

Still grinning, Luna reached over and lightly pressed her palm against Dino’s forehead as if to check his temperature. Dino, too busy laughing at his own slip-up, didn’t even react to the gesture.

“Our parents’ meeting manager are Dino’s parents,” Wonwoo suddenly clarified, his tone dry but helpful. His calm explanation cut through the lingering laughter, drawing a series of “Ahh’s” from PD Na and the crew.

“Why does it still sound so confusing? Is it because it’s early in the morning?” Luna furrowed her brows in mock frustration, her thoughtful expression earning another round of chuckles from those around her. Determined to simplify things, she leaned forward slightly, addressing PD Na as though she were explaining a complicated concept to a child.

“All you have to know is that whenever our parents have a meeting, Dino’s parents manage it,” she explained slowly, her tone laced with humor and exaggerated patience.

[Got it]

The crew erupted into laughter at her delivery, and PD Na couldn’t hold back another chuckle as he shook his head. Even some of the members, who were used to Luna’s dry wit, found themselves laughing all over again.

“Noona…” Seungkwan muttered between laughs, reaching over to lightly slap her shoulder. Luna giggled at his playful reprimand, the sound light and carefree.

“Good job,” Jeonghan said gently, his soft voice carrying over the laughter. His expression was calm, but the amused sparkle in his eyes revealed how much he enjoyed Luna’s antics.

“Alright. Thank you, Luna,” PD Na said, finally composing himself as he turned back toward Dino. He motioned toward the youngest with a smile. “Then, our youngest Dino…”

“Should we have our youngest do it?” Woozi interjected, seamlessly finishing PD Na’s thought.

“We will have him be the manager… okay then,” PD Na finalized with a nod, the decision now official.

“I will cherish it carefully,” Dino said, his tone serious as he reassured the group.

PD Na retrieved a pouch that contained the money and handed it over to Hoshi, who was still sitting at the end seat of the row. Hoshi took it with both hands, inspecting it briefly before passing it down the line. The pouch made its way from member to member until it finally reached Dino, who accepted it with a wide grin. He adjusted the strap and wore it around his neck like a sling bag, the pouch now resting securely at his side.

“It’s a million won per person, and we just added S.Coups’,” PD Na explained, his tone clear and steady.

“Thank you,” the members chorused in unison, their voices blending together.

“You can think of it as S.Coups giving you the million won,” PD Na added with a small smile.

“Okay,” Woozi responded succinctly, his calm tone bringing the moment to a close.

“Second thing is that there’s a schedule,” PD Na announced, his voice carrying a tone of amusement, knowing this was about to spark some opinions among the group.

From the front seat, PD Na reached into a folder and pulled out neatly printed sheets of paper. “I will give this out to everyone, so take a read,” he continued, holding the stack up before passing it to Hoshi, who was closest to him.

Hoshi took a sheet, glancing at it briefly before turning to his right and handing the rest to Seungkwan, who did the same, passing it along the line. The papers made their way around the bus, with members unfolding them and scanning the itinerary for their week-long adventure in Italy.

“I’m a P, so I like going around comfortably,” Seungkwan remarked, breaking the silence, his tone light yet purposeful. His comment referred to his MBTI type, one that favored spontaneity over strict planning.

“I’m a J,” Mingyu interjected, clearly enjoying the thought of a structured schedule. He held the paper up, studying it with genuine interest, as though he were preparing for a quiz.

“Me too,” Jeonghan chimed in lazily, though a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, hinting at his agreement with Mingyu.

“I’m a J too,” Wonwoo added, nodding solemnly as if this was a matter of great significance.

“Me too,” Luna echoed, her eyes scanning the paper in her hands with a satisfied expression. “Seeing a written schedule puts me at ease,” she told PD Na with a small, sincere smile that made the staff in the front grin at her remark.

“I’m a J too,” Woozi said from his seat, his voice calm but with a hint of irritation creeping in. “I’m a super J. This situation is kind of… this situation is kind of annoying. There is not much planning at all. It wasn’t even in my expectations,” he admitted, shaking his head slightly. His blunt honesty drew laughter from the crew and PD Na, who were no strangers to Woozi’s meticulous tendencies.

“Me too,” Wonwoo and Luna said in unison, glancing at each other briefly before chuckling.

“It’s not easy,” Woozi continued, his voice tinged with mild frustration.

“I need to cancel my plans too,” Wonwoo added, his tone calm but laced with subtle sarcasm.

[The introverts struggle]

“Wow… six nights and seven days is crazy,” Mingyu marveled, his excitement shining through.

“‘More than 20 years of travel experience leading group tours,’” Seungkwan read aloud from the itinerary, his tone skeptical as he squinted at the line. He raised his head, his expression thoughtful. “I need to see first if the cell phone number is real,” he said, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

“There’s a phone number there,” one of the writers seated in the front informed them, amused by the group’s antics. “You can contact the guide throughout 24 hours.”

“Really?” Mingyu asked, looking up from the paper with a mixture of curiosity and mischief.

“I hope that you don’t bother me when I am sleeping,” PD Na replied, his tone teasing but with a hint of seriousness that made the members chuckle.

“Is this Young Seok’s actual phone number?” Woozi asked, his brow furrowed as he stared at the itinerary, referring directly to PD Na.

“Yes, it’s my real number,” PD Na confirmed with a grin.

“Wow, I got his number,” Mingyu said, his tone filled with mock astonishment, as though he’d just obtained the contact information of a celebrity.

“I got a celebrity’s number,” Woozi added dryly, his expression stoic but his comment drawing hearty laughter from the crew and members alike.

For a few moments, silence settled over the bus as the members, one by one, reached for their phones. The faint sound of fingers tapping against screens filled the air as they diligently saved PD Na’s number into their contacts.

“If you look at the first thing in the beginning, included are optional tours and pocket money. We give you all meals. All dorms are included. We sometimes play with you too, and there’s even free time,” PD Na explained, pausing briefly to gauge their reactions.

“When we arrive in the afternoon at Rome, we will sleep for a night and then head towards Tuscany countryside the next day,” he continued, glancing down at his notes.

“Crazy,” Mingyu sighed, leaning back in his seat, his excitement palpable.

“Is there anyone who has heard of Tuscany countryside?” PD Na asked, scanning the group for any reactions.

“Yes,” Luna said, her voice calm as her eyes stayed glued to the paper in her hands, scanning every line.

“That’s the birthplace of wine,” Jeonghan suddenly chimed in, his voice filled with faux seriousness, as if sharing a well-kept secret. Luna’s lips twitched into a smirk as she spotted that very phrase written on the paper in front of her.

[Correct]

“It’s written here,” Dino pointed out, lifting his own paper and holding it up slightly to emphasize his words. The way he deadpanned it made Jeonghan snicker, knowing he’d been caught red-handed.

“He’s just showing everyone he can read,” Luna teased, her smirk growing as she leaned back comfortably, giving Jeonghan a playful side-eye.

[Correct again]

Jeonghan turned to her with a faux look of offense before leaning across Dino, who was seated between them. “Yah, you’re going to regret that,” he murmured under his breath, his tone dripping with mischief.

Luna barely glanced at him, her smirk unwavering. “Oh, am I?” she whispered back, keeping her voice low but laced with amusement. “Because right now, it just sounds like you’re salty you got caught.”

Jeonghan’s grin widened, and without missing a beat, he reached over and poked her side. The sudden jab made Luna squeal and squirm in her seat, batting his hand away as she laughed.

“Stop it,” she hissed between giggles, her eyes narrowing at him in mock annoyance. “You’re such a child.”

“And you’re too confident for someone who screams that easily, Nana-ya,” Jeonghan retorted with a teasing lilt, leaning back into his seat as if he’d won the exchange.

Their playful banter earned a few chuckles from the other members, and Luna rolled her eyes, muttering, “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Jeonghan simply smirked, clearly satisfied with himself.

PD Na cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him. “So if you go to Tuscany, we rented out a country farm that is surrounded by a wine farm,” he continued, his tone growing more enthusiastic as he described their accommodations. “We are going to stay there for three nights. There’s a swimming pool at the dorm, and so that you guys can work out… there’s workout equipment.”

“There’s workout equipment?” Mingyu repeated, his tone rising with excitement as he perked up in his seat. His energy was infectious, and most of the members clearly shared his enthusiasm at the mention of exercising equipment.

“I’m so happy,” Woozi said, his voice quiet but genuinely pleased as he and Mingyu huddled next to each other, their excitement palpable.

[Equipment excites them the most]

“Cute,” Luna said with a chuckle, watching the two of them with a fond smile.

“And once the trip is all finished,” PD Na said, his tone taking on a sly edge, “PLEDIS will come back when we put you all in a hotel. They are going to take over from there.”

The reminder of going back to work made the members groan lightly, their faces shifting from excitement to reluctant acceptance.

PD Na chuckled at their expressions before adding, “They are going to take all of you to film your music video.”

[Tokyo > Incheon > Rome > Budapest]

“I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go,” Wonwoo said, chuckling softly as he shook his head.

“I really don’t want to go,” Dokyeom echoed, his dramatic delivery earning a round of laughter from the group.

“Take a read and please ask if you have anything you’re curious about,” PD Na said, gesturing for them to review their schedules further.

The group obliged, their eyes darting back to the sheets of paper in their hands.

After a moment of silence, Dino raised his hand slightly. “But the thing I am curious about the most… on the fourth day, after we come back to the dorm and have dinner…” Dino trailed off, glancing at the paper as if unsure how to phrase his question.

“Talent show,” Luna said, cutting in smoothly. She didn’t even need to look at Dino to know exactly what he was about to ask, her tone confident.

“It says talent show,” Dino confirmed, nodding in agreement before continuing, “I am thinking that this talent show will be a lot of fun.”

The members chuckled, clearly intrigued by the concept. The lighthearted nature of the trip was already getting to them, and the mention of a talent show only added to their growing excitement.

“It’s ‘Talent Show,’ parenthesis ‘Get your airtime,’” Seungkwan translated, emphasizing PD Na’s not-so-subtle motive with an exaggerated tone that sent the group into laughter.

“Yes, we have all participated in a talent show when we were in elementary and middle school,” Dino said, his nostalgic comment drawing nods of agreement.

“It’s so nice,” Mingyu said, his excitement still evident as he grinned.

“I’m excited,” Luna chuckled, her voice warm with anticipation.

“I think it’s going to be a lot of fun,” Dino said again, his tone thoughtful.

“It’s so nice,” Mingyu repeated, practically glowing.

“It’s really so nice,” Seungkwan added, his voice filled with exaggerated enthusiasm.

The members were clearly buzzing with excitement, the sudden trip to Italy and the promise of fun-filled activities rejuvenating them. They hadn’t had a proper vacation in a while, and it showed in the way they talked over each other and laughed more freely.

“I really thought it was my birthday. All of the members come in on my birthday, but then I realized not everyone was there,” Jeonghan said, chuckling as he reminisced about their chaotic wake-up call earlier that day.

“Other than that day, there is no need for them to come in,” Woozi added, his tone matter-of-fact, which only made the others laugh.

“Yes,” Dino agreed, nodding sagely as if he were speaking from experience.

“‘Is it my birthday?’” Jeonghan re-enacted what he thought earlier, scrunching his face in mock confusion and rubbing his temple as though he were trying to recall the date.

[It isn’t]

Luna burst into laughter at his impression. “Cute,” she said, her laughter bubbling over. “I can imagine your face trying to remember if it is your birthday.”

Her laughter slowed as she suddenly deadpanned, “I thought I was actually gonna get kidnapped.” Her comment immediately drew roars of laughter from the group as they remembered the chaos of earlier that morning— her scream, her phone flying across the room at PD Na, and how she’d fallen off the bed, right onto Jeonghan.

[Confusion everywhere]

“It’s been a while since it’s been fun,” Hoshi said, his voice warm as he smiled. The group nodded in agreement, the atmosphere on the bus growing lighter with every passing moment.

Soon, the bus rumbled softly to a stop in front of Narita Airport in Tokyo, its hum dying down as the doors hissed open. Na PD’s crew began moving first, organizing their equipment and signaling for the members to file out. Inside the bus, the members stirred from their seats, gathering themselves in varying states of excitement and curiosity.

Jeonghan stood first, stretching his arms before turning to Luna, who was still seated. “Ready, Cherry’s mom?” he teased, nodding toward the bunny plushie she was holding.

Luna smirked, adjusting the plushie in her arms. “Let’s go, Cherry’s dad.” Her voice was light, filled with humor.

The group began stepping off the bus one by one, their chatter filling the crisp air of the airport drop-off area.

Luna walked in between Jeonghan and Wonwoo, linking her arms with theirs as the three joined the rest of the group heading toward the terminal. Na PD and his crew led the way, occasionally glancing back to ensure everyone was following.

“Then, did you fool us with our plane time too?” Dokyeom asked as they walked, his curiosity piqued. He turned to the crew, his eyes narrowing slightly in mock accusation.

“Right,” Wonwoo agreed, glancing at Dokyeom before looking ahead. His voice was calm, but his expression hinted at amusement.

“That’s exactly what happened,” Luna said matter-of-factly, her tone teasing as she glanced at Dokyeom with a knowing smirk.

[More lies]

“Yes, since the time we are leaving is completely different,” Jeonghan added, his voice smooth as he leaned slightly closer to Luna.

The group moved as a unit through the terminal, their steps echoing in sync on the polished floors. Some of the members were talking amongst themselves, their voices overlapping in excitement. Others were simply taking in the surroundings, marveling at the fact that they were, once again, heading off on an unexpected adventure.

“It’s nice because it’s not confusing,” Jeonghan remarked as he and Luna walked in tandem. He held onto one hand of Cherry’s plush paw while Luna held the other. The two of them swung the plushie mindlessly between them, a small, unspoken rhythm that reflected their easy chemistry.

“Yes, it’s neat. Really neat and smooth,” Woozi chimed in, walking on Jeonghan’s other side. His voice was quiet but appreciative, his eyes darting between the bustling airport and his groupmates.

“That’s because we have nothing with us,” Luna pointed out, her tone laced with dry humor.

“Right. It’s because we have no luggage,” Dokyeom agreed from a few steps behind her, laughing softly.

“It’s the quickest airport procedure of our lives,” Luna chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief.

“It’s kind of really nice,” Dokyeom said again, as if savoring the simplicity of the moment.

“It’s comfortable because we didn’t bring anything,” Jeonghan added, his hand still swinging Cherry’s paw along with Luna’s.

“It reminds me of our rookie days,” Luna said, glancing between Jeonghan and the other members, a fond smile tugging at her lips.

“Right! Kind of like our debut days. It kind of feels like we’re going to do our reality show during our rookie days,” Dokyeom said, his voice carrying a nostalgic tone.

“That feeling is strong right now,” Mingyu agreed, his steps quickening slightly as excitement bubbled up in him.

The members nodded and hummed their agreement, a subtle wave of nostalgia washing over the group as they continued toward their gate. The ease of movement, the lack of baggage, and the sense of spontaneity took them back to their earliest days as a group, stirring a shared sense of camaraderie.

Soon, the group transitioned from the bustling terminal to the jet bridge, the narrow tunnel leading to their plane. The sound of footsteps reverberated in the enclosed space, a blend of sneakers and boots padding against the floor. Na PD’s crew followed closely behind, carrying their cameras and equipment, ready to capture every moment.

At the back of the group, Hoshi held a GoPro, his mischievous grin evident as he aimed it toward Jeonghan and Luna, who were walking at the front. The two were still holding Cherry’s plush paws, mindlessly swinging the bunny up and down as they led the group.

Hoshi tilted his head slightly, his voice low as he muttered to the camera, “It’s mom and dad.” He couldn’t hold back a quiet snicker, clearly amused by the scene unfolding in front of him.

He lifted the GoPro a little higher and called out, “Mom! Dad!”

Surprisingly, both Jeonghan and Luna turned at the same time, their synchronized movement almost comical. Jeonghan raised his eyebrows, his expression playful as he waved at the camera, while Luna smiled softly, lifting her hand to wave as well.

Hoshi burst into laughter behind the camera, clearly pleased with their reaction. “See? Perfect synchronization,” he muttered, angling the camera back toward himself for a brief second before returning it to the pair in front.

[Bunny telepathy]

Jeonghan and Luna exchanged a quick glance, sharing an amused smile at Hoshi’s antics before continuing down the jet bridge. The group followed closely behind, the air buzzing with anticipation as they prepared to board the plane.

The cabin of the plane was bathed in a soft glow as the members of SEVENTEEN filed into the business class area. The plush, spacious seats seemed to call to them like a siren’s song after their hectic schedules. Each member took their assigned seat, a blend of quiet murmurs and rustling filling the air as they settled in. The exhaustion from the concert the night before, the early morning spontaneity of the trip, and their general lack of sleep over the past few days hung over them like a heavy blanket.

Almost as soon as they sank into their seats, many of the members began to drift off.

Mingyu was the first, his head lolling to the side, eyes fluttering closed. Woozi, seated next to him, barely made it to buckling his seatbelt before slumping against the window, his breaths evening out. Jun let out a soft sigh, his hands tucked beneath his head as he leaned back, his eyelids heavy.

One by one, most of them succumbed to their exhaustion, the hum of the plane’s engines serving as an unintentional lullaby.

In the middle of the cabin, Luna was seated beside Jeonghan. Her head rested on his shoulder, her eyes half-closed as she fiddled with her phone, finishing a text to her mom. Jeonghan, meanwhile, held his phone to his ear, speaking softly into it. His voice was low and soothing, a stark contrast to the lively energy he had displayed just hours earlier.

“Yes, Mom,” Jeonghan said, his tone warm as a small smile tugged at his lips. “We’re about to board. Well, we’re already seated, but we haven’t taken off yet.”

Luna shifted slightly against his shoulder, listening to the gentle cadence of his voice as her own exhaustion started to catch up with her.

“Oh, that’s good,” his mom replied on the other end, her voice audible enough for Luna to catch the affection in her tone. “How are you? Are you eating well? You’ve been so busy.”

“I’m fine, really,” Jeonghan reassured her, his voice soft. “I’m eating enough, sleeping when I can. Don’t worry too much.”

“And Jiyeonie? Is she there with you?” his mom asked, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

Jeonghan glanced down at Luna, whose head was still resting on his shoulder, her phone now dark in her lap. A faint smile crossed his face. “Yes, she’s right here,” he said.

“Let me see her!” his mom exclaimed eagerly.

Jeonghan chuckled quietly, already switching the call to a video call. “Okay, okay, hold on.” He adjusted his phone, angling the camera toward Luna.

Luna, who had been close to dozing off, blinked and turned her head toward the phone. “Hmm?” she murmured, her voice drowsy but curious.

Jeonghan nodded, holding the phone steady. “She wants to see you.”

Luna straightened slightly, her smile sleepy but warm as she waved at the camera. “Mom, hello,” she said softly.

“Ah, Jiyeonie!” Jeonghan’s mom beamed through the screen, her voice bright with affection. “It’s so nice to see you. I miss you! Are you taking care of my son?”

Luna chuckled softly, her cheeks tinged with a faint pink. “I’m trying my best,” she replied. “He’s doing well, though. You don’t have to worry.”

“I still worry,” Jeonghan’s mom said, shaking her head with a fond smile. “You both look so tired. Are you getting enough rest?”

“We’re okay, really,” Luna said, her voice gentle. “We’ve just had a busy few days, but we’ll get some rest now.”

Jeonghan’s mom nodded, her expression softening. “Good. Take care of each other, okay? And don’t forget to eat. Jeonghan-ah, you make sure Jiyeonie eats too!”

“I always do,” Jeonghan said, his tone teasing but affectionate.

After a few more exchanges, Jeonghan’s mom ended the call with a warm, “Stay safe, have fun, call me when you can, and don’t worry about the dinner— we’ll reschedule it with you guys. Love you both!”

“Love you too, Mom,” Jeonghan and Luna chorused before ending the call. He placed his phone on the tray table, turning to Luna with a faint smile.

“She loves you more than me at this point,” he teased, his voice soft.

Luna let out a quiet laugh, leaning back against his shoulder. “Well, I am lovable,” she replied lightly, her voice tinged with drowsiness.

Jeonghan smirked, his gaze softening as he looked down at her. “That you are,” he said quietly.

For a moment, the two sat in comfortable silence, the hum of the plane and the soft snores of the other members surrounding them.

“Are you going to fall asleep like this?” Jeonghan asked, glancing at her head resting on his shoulder.

Luna hummed in response, her eyes already closed. “Might as well. You’re comfy.”

Jeonghan chuckled softly, shifting slightly to make her more comfortable. “I’m honored,” he murmured.

“Good,” Luna mumbled, her voice fading as she drifted off.

Jeonghan leaned his head back against the seat, his hand brushing against hers as they both succumbed to the quiet, shared exhaustion.

The plane began to taxi down the runway, but neither of them noticed, already lost to sleep.

The flight from Tokyo to Incheon had been brief, allowing the members a chance to catch some rest, though it didn’t do much to diminish their exhaustion.

[Tokyo > Incheon]

Once they landed at Incheon International Airport, the group made their way to the waiting lounge for their connecting flight to Rome. The lounge was spacious and quiet, with large windows offering a view of the tarmac where planes taxied to and fro under a pale morning sky.

SEVENTEEN, Na PD, and his crew spread out across the lounge, everyone settling into their own routines.

Some of the members were on their phones, scrolling through social media or messaging friends and family. Hoshi, Minghao, and Wonwoo were sitting off to the side with PD Na, quietly chatting about the upcoming shoot, their voices blending with the hum of the air conditioning. DK and Mingyu had just returned from a quick run to the café, arms laden with cups of coffee, which they distributed to the group. Joshua accepted his cup with a grateful smile before promptly burying himself in his phone, while Woozi was already sipping his, his gaze distant as though lost in thought.

Luna was seated in a plush chair by the windows, her legs crossed as she leaned back, phone in hand. She had been unusually quiet, content to let the energy of the group swirl around her as she texted Seungcheol to update him on their whereabouts. Her messages were simple and to the point:

“We just landed in Incheon. Waiting for the flight to Rome now. Miss you already 🩷”

Luna knew he was probably already asleep due to their hectic morning, so she set her phone down for a moment, stretching her limbs as she yawned.

Jeonghan, who had been deep in conversation with Seungkwan a moment ago, glanced over and noticed Luna’s silence. Finishing his sentence with Seungkwan, he strolled over to her, his movements languid and unhurried. He came to a stop behind her chair, placing both hands on the armrests on either side of her, effectively trapping her in place. Leaning forward, he rested his chin lightly on top of her head, his breath warm against her hair.

Luna didn’t flinch at his closeness, already used to Jeonghan’s habit of invading her personal space with casual ease. She was scrolling through Instagram out of boredom whilst Jeonghan watched from his place. The two of them didn’t speak at first, simply existing in the same space, her calm energy complementing his presence. Jeonghan’s warmth seeped into her, grounding her in a way that words couldn’t.

After a few moments, Jeonghan moved— one of his hands left the armrest to cup the front of her neck, his fingers gentle but firm as he tilted her head back to look up at him. Luna found herself staring at him upside down, her sleepy gaze meeting his mischievous one.

“Hello,” Jeonghan said softly, his lips quirking into a faint smile.

“Hi,” Luna replied, her voice just as soft, a small, sleepy smile spreading across her face.

Jeonghan studied her for a moment, his sharp eyes taking in her posture and the faint pout tugging at her lips. He tilted his head slightly. “Bored already?” he asked, his tone a perfect blend of teasing and cooing.

Luna gave a small, upside-down nod, her hair brushing against the back of the chair as she moved.

Jeonghan let out a soft laugh, his fingers tracing along the side of her neck before moving to brush a stray strand of hair away from her face. “You’re so impatient,” he murmured, his voice gentle but laced with teasing. “We’ve barely even started, and you’re bored?”

“It’s not my fault,” Luna replied, her voice nonchalant but carrying a hint of a pout. “There’s nothing to do.”

Jeonghan’s lips twitched into a smirk, and he leaned down a little further, closing the distance between them. “Nothing to do?” he echoed, his tone mockingly scandalized. “You’ve got me here, don’t you? I’m plenty entertaining.”

Luna raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a small, sleepy smile. “Are you now?”

“Of course,” Jeonghan replied smoothly, his voice dropping into a soft murmur. His fingers lightly trailed down her arm, the touch comforting and intimate as he let them linger near her wrist. “You should know by now that I’m an excellent distraction.”

Luna’s smile widened slightly, and she tilted her head just enough to nuzzle against his wrist where it rested near her neck. “I guess you’ll have to prove it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jeonghan chuckled, the sound low and warm. His fingers brushed against her jaw before sliding back down to her shoulder, his touch light and deliberate. “You’re impossible, you know that?” he murmured, his words carrying no real weight as they lingered in their shared bubble of calm.

“So are you,” Luna retorted, her voice soft but teasing, her gaze still locked with his.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the connection between them palpable as they remained in that position, his hands gentle and reassuring against her. The hum of the lounge faded into the background, leaving only the sound of their quiet breathing and the occasional soft rustle of movement.

Finally, Jeonghan shifted, his hand sliding down to intertwine with hers. He straightened, gently pulling her up out of her seat with an easy tug.

“Come on,” he said, his voice light and teasing as he gave her a small smile. “Let’s find something to entertain you before you drive both of crazy.”

Luna let out a soft laugh, letting him lead her away as they disappeared into their own little world.

With their hands intertwined, Jeonghan effortlessly picked up the GoPro that had been handed to them earlier, his movements relaxed yet deliberate. With a quick glance around the lounge, he noticed no one seemed to see that he and Luna quietly slipped out, their departure so seamless that even the crew failed to catch it.

[Bye-bye]

Jeonghan couldn’t help but smirk to himself as they strolled toward the shops just beyond the lounge, their fingers still laced together while Luna cradled Cherry in her other arm.

He powered on the GoPro, holding it up to capture them both in the frame. His voice was light and playful as he began his commentary. “Hello, everyone,” he started, his tone smooth yet mischievous. “We’ve escaped. The others don’t even know we’re gone.” He tilted the camera slightly to focus on Luna, who was already glancing at the shops around them with wide eyes.

[Starts his own vlog]

“And here we have our Jiyeonie,” Jeonghan continued in a faux-serious tone, adjusting the camera to show her from a flattering angle. “As you can see, she’s clutching her precious Cherry in one hand, and in the other…” He panned the camera to their intertwined fingers for a moment before swinging it back up to their faces. “Well, she’s stuck with me. Poor thing.”

[The ‘poor thing’ got dragged]

Luna, entirely unfazed by his narration, was too busy eyeing the displays of the shops they passed. Her attention flicked from one store to another, her curiosity piqued by the gleaming windows showcasing everything from luxury goods to quirky souvenirs.

Jeonghan chuckled, zooming in on her distracted expression. “Ah, look at her,” he mused, his tone now resembling that of a nature documentary host. “She’s spotted her prey— shiny shops filled with items she knows she can’t buy at the moment.” He pointed the camera toward the storefronts before swinging it back to Luna. “Why, you ask? Well, dear viewers, because we don’t have any luggage, and if we come back with bags, PD Na will murder us both.”

The comment made Luna snap out of her trance. She turned to him with a pout, her lips jutting out in a way that only made Jeonghan grin wider. “You’re so mean, Han,” she murmured, her voice soft yet carrying a playful edge.

Jeonghan lowered the camera slightly, his grin softening as he leaned down to meet her gaze. “Don’t worry,” he reassured her, his voice significantly gentler now, a soothing contrast to his earlier teasing. “You can shop all you want in Italy, hmm? We’ll have plenty of time there. I promise.”

Luna held his gaze for a moment, the pout on her lips easing slightly as she nodded. “Okay,” she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

But before she could say anything else— or before Jeonghan could continue his commentary— her eyes lit up, brighter than they had at the sight of any of the luxury stores they’d passed. Without warning, she let go of his hand, her entire being leaving the frame as she dashed toward one particular shop.

[Dash]

Jeonghan blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before he followed her line of sight. A fond smile spread across his face as he saw where she’d gone.

Adjusting the GoPro, he pointed it toward the store’s sign: LEGO.

“Of course,” Jeonghan said with a chuckle, resuming his commentary. “Of all the shops, this is the one that catches her attention the most. I never thought I’d meet anyone who loves LEGO more than me, but here we are.”

He stepped closer, the camera capturing Luna as she stood just inside the store, her eyes scanning the shelves like a child in a candy store. Her gaze flitted from one set to another, her expression a mix of awe and delight.

[She is in love]

Jeonghan moved into the frame, angling the camera to show both of them. “This,” he said, gesturing toward her with an exaggerated flourish, “is what pure joy looks like. Forget diamonds and designer bags— Luna’s heart belongs to little plastic bricks.”

Luna, who had been admiring a particularly intricate set, turned her head slightly toward him without taking her eyes off the shelves. “I can hear you, you know,” she said, her tone nonchalant yet laced with sass.

Jeonghan grinned, zooming in on her face. “You were supposed to,” he replied, his voice lilting with amusement. “But you know we can’t get the big ones, right? There’s no way to get them to Italy.” His tone had softened again, now more gentle and coaxing, as if he were explaining to a child why they couldn’t take home every toy in the store.

“I know,” Luna replied simply, still admiring the sets. “I’m just looking.”

Jeonghan chuckled, shifting the camera angle to capture her in profile as she moved from one shelf to the next. “Just looking, she says,” he murmured, his tone now dipping back into his mock-documentary voice. “Like a lioness stalking her prey, she pretends not to be tempted, but we all know better.”

As he spoke, his own gaze wandered, landing on a set that immediately caught his attention. “Oh,” he said, his voice brightening slightly. “That’s a good one. I’ve been wanting that one for ages.”

From somewhere near the shelves, Luna’s voice drifted back to him, soft but teasing. “You’re no better than me.”

Jeonghan turned the camera toward himself, raising an eyebrow as he smirked. “And there it is, folks,” he said, addressing the imaginary audience. “The pot calling the kettle black.”

Luna’s laughter rang out, warm and light, filling the small store as she turned to look at him. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head.

[They are one and the same]

“And yet,” Jeonghan retorted, his grin widening as he gestured toward her with the camera, “you’re stuck with me.”

Luna rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement. “Lucky me,” she muttered, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Jeonghan chuckled, stepping closer to her as he continued filming, the playful energy between them weaving effortlessly into their surroundings.

Luna drifted over to a wall filled with keychains, her excitement palpable as her eyes lit up at the array of tiny LEGO figures dangling neatly in rows. Her fingers brushed over the keychains as she began browsing through them with eager curiosity, her head tilting as she considered each option.

Jeonghan, ever the dedicated cameraman, kept the GoPro focused on her. His amused commentary continued as he watched her. “And now, ladies and gentlemen,” he announced in a dramatic tone, “we’ve entered the second phase of the Luna Shopping Saga: the keychain section. She’s excited. She’s focused. She’s in her element.”

Luna paused in her search and looked up at him, catching the lens of the camera pointed in her direction. Her dimpled smile appeared, soft and sweet, as she tilted her head slightly. “We should get matching keychains,” she said, her voice gentle yet tinged with excitement.

Jeonghan felt his grin widen involuntarily. He nodded, indulgent as ever, and said, “Alright, pick a good match for us. But remember,” he added with exaggerated gravity, speaking directly to the camera again, “I’m allowing her this one small purchase to hold her over for a while. She has some kind of shopping problem.”

Luna narrowed her eyes at him, immediately catching the teasing tone. “Excuse me,” she said, placing her hands on her hips with a playful scowl. “I do not have a shopping problem, and you’re making it sound like I do!”

Jeonghan chuckled softly, his voice turning warm as he reassured her, “It’s a great problem to have, trust me. You’re allowed to spoil yourself. Now, come on,” he gestured toward the wall of keychains with the GoPro. “Pick one for us. No pressure, but make it a good one.”

[Proceeds to pressure the shopaholic]

Luna rolled her eyes but turned her attention back to the keychains, her fingers dancing over the little figures dangling before her. She started at the top, standing on her tiptoes to examine the higher rows, and slowly worked her way down, pausing every so often to pick up a keychain and inspect it closely.

By the time she reached the bottom row, she crouched down to get a better look, then, without hesitation, shifted to sitting cross-legged on the floor. It was as if she were perfectly comfortable there, oblivious to the cold tile beneath her.

[Plop]

Jeonghan immediately lowered the camera slightly, his voice taking on a gentle but scolding tone. “Nana-ya, don’t sit on the floor— it’s cold and dirty,” he said, though his fond smile betrayed any real disapproval

“It’s comfortable,” Luna replied simply, not even glancing up as she busily sorted through the keychains in her hands.

Jeonghan sighed softly, the corners of his mouth quirking upward as he adjusted his stance. Then, without missing a beat, he brought his feet together in front of her. “Come here,” he said, his tone playful but full of affection, “sit on my shoes instead.”

Luna glanced up, raising an eyebrow at him but still grinning as she shifted forward, settling herself lightly on the tops of his shoes. “Better?” she asked, her voice teasing as she held up two keychains for a closer look.

“Much,” Jeonghan replied, resuming his commentary for the camera. “See, viewers, this is what true friendship looks like. Sacrificing my own feet so she doesn’t freeze her butt off on the cold floor. A hero, really.”

Luna huffed a soft laugh but ignored him, her attention fully focused on her task. After a few more minutes of deliberation, she held up two pairs of matching keychains for Jeonghan to see.

One set featured a pink Fairy Batman paired with a blue Bunny Batman, while the other was a classic pairing of Bugs Bunny and Lola Bunny. She held them out with wide eyes, her voice slightly pleading as she declared, “I want all of it.”

Jeonghan chuckled, the warmth in his voice unmistakable as he nodded. “Alright,” he said simply. You can get all of it.”

Luna’s smile grew impossibly wider as she stood up, tucking the keychains into her hand. “Yay!” she exclaimed, her happiness so genuine it made Jeonghan’s chest ache in the best way.

They made their way to the cashier, the GoPro still rolling as Jeonghan filmed the entire process. When they both reached for their wallets, pulling out their cards simultaneously, they smirked at each other knowingly.

Neither had forgotten how PD Na had explicitly told them not to bring their wallets.

[Both brought the wallets they were told not to bring]

Jeonghan angled the camera to show both of them holding their cards. “This,” he said with a grin, “is why we’re the perfect team. Same brain, same bad ideas.”

Luna turned to the camera, her expression playful as she reassured their audience, “Don’t worry, everyone. This is going to be our last purchase with our own money before the trip, I swear—”

She paused mid-sentence when she caught sight of her card in Jeonghan’s hand. He had smoothly taken it while she’d been talking and was now handing his card to the cashier instead. His smirk was pure mischief as he looked at her, clearly enjoying her reaction.

“Yoon Jeonghan!” she exclaimed, her voice half-indignant, half-amused as she playfully glared at him.

“What?” he asked innocently, tucking her card back into her hand. “You said you wanted it all.”

Luna could only shake her head, though her soft smile betrayed her amusement as the cashier handed over the keychains. She quickly instructed, “No bag, please. We can’t bring bags.”

Jeonghan let out a low chuckle as he pocketed the receipt. The two of them headed back toward the lounge, Luna busy clipping the keychains to her jeans as they walked. She attached the Lola Bunny and pink Fairy Batman to her belt loop, then turned to Jeonghan.

[No bag just style]

“Here,” she said, holding out the Bugs Bunny and blue Bunny Batman. She clipped them to his belt loop with care, her lips quirking into a soft smile as she worked.

Jeonghan glanced down, watching her with amusement. “I feel like I’m being accessorized,” he remarked, his tone light and teasing.

“You are,” Luna replied, not missing a beat. “Now hold still. These need to look good.”

Jeonghan chuckled, his voice softening as he cooed, “Anything for you, my little designer. Do I look cute yet?”

Luna smirked up at him, tilting her head. “You’ve never looked better,” she said with mock seriousness before bursting into a quiet laugh.

The two of them continued walking, their banter easy and filled with warmth, the keychains now swinging lightly from their belts as they made their way back to the lounge.

[No bag just vibes]

Back in the lounge, the members of SEVENTEEN were scattered about, finishing their conversations, sipping on coffee, or scrolling through their phones as the final minutes of their break ticked away.

PD Na, who had just finished discussing something with Minghao, Wonwoo, and Hoshi, glanced down at his watch. He tapped the face of it lightly before announcing, “I think we need to slowly get going. There’s fifty minutes left. They’ve started boarding.”

The members around him began stirring, stretching as they stood up and grabbed their belongings which was literally just their passports, tickets, and phones. Jackets pulled on and coffee cups disposed of in the nearby trash cans.

As the group moved to assemble in one spot, PD Na stepped slightly to the side and started counting the members. His eyes swept over each face, his lips moving as he silently tallied. Halfway through, his brow furrowed, and he stopped mid-count, his body stiffening as he flinched. He counted again, slower this time, his voice just audible enough to reveal his mounting concern.

“Eleven,” he muttered under his breath, blinking rapidly before raising his voice. “There’s only eleven of you. Who are missing?”

[Bunny 1 and bunny 2]

The sudden announcement caught everyone’s attention, and the members, now fully alert, began looking around at one another, their own mental counts kicking in. Having fourteen members meant this sort of thing happened often enough that it no longer surprised anyone, but it always took a moment to figure out who was gone.

Joshua, who had been standing closest to PD Na, took one quick look around the group and answered matter-of-factly, “Jiyeonie is obviously not here… so the other one has to be Jeonghan.” His tone was laced with a knowing amusement.

[Ding ding ding]

PD Na groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “We aren’t even there yet. Did I lose members already?” he muttered, looking at the remaining eleven as though hoping someone would magically produce the missing pair.

“Did they say where they were gonna go?” Seungkwan asked, already pulling out his phone and pressing it to his ear to call Luna.

“No one noticed they left,” Woozi added with a small shrug, though his tone carried no judgment.

Seungkwan’s phone call connected, and the group fell silent as they watched him speak. “Noona, where are y— ah… alright,” he said before hanging up. He turned back to the group with a small smile. “They’re on the way back.”

“Did they say where they went?” Hoshi asked, casually sipping his coffee, clearly unbothered by the delay.

“No,” Seungkwan replied, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Just that they’re on the way. But knowing noona… she probably went to buy something.”

PD Na let out a wry chuckle, shaking his head as though in disbelief. “S.Coups told me this would happen— said we’d lose her— but I didn’t expect it to happen this fast.”

Mingyu laughed softly, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “We aren’t even in Italy yet. Wait till we get there.”

[…]

As if on cue, Jeonghan and Luna appeared in the distance, walking at an unhurried pace that suggested they had all the time in the world. The two of them had no visible bags or large purchases, but their grins were wide and identical, as if they’d just accomplished something mischievous.

“Where did you two go?” PD Na asked the moment they were close enough, his tone bordering on exasperated.

“Hannie bought us matching LEGO keychains,” Luna said with a proud smile, pointing at Jeonghan as though he deserved full credit.

PD Na raised an eyebrow, folding his arms. “You don’t even have bags to put keychains o—” He stopped mid-sentence when Luna turned slightly, pointing at her own belt loop and then at Jeonghan’s. Dangling from each of their jeans were two pairs of keychains, one set featuring Bugs Bunny and Blue Bunny Batman and the other, a pink Fairy Batman with a Lola Bunny.

[Ta-da!]

The rest of the members burst into quiet chuckles, their amusement filling the lounge as they took in the scene. PD Na sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he let out a small, defeated laugh. “You two are going to be a problem in Italy. I can already tell.”

Before he could say anything further, his head snapped back toward them, a new thought dawning on him. His eyes narrowed as he asked, “Where did you get money?”

[Oops]

At that, Luna’s expression shifted instantly. Her eyes darted upward, pretending to find sudden interest in the ceiling, and she took a small step backward as though to quietly remove herself from the conversation. The sight of her blatant attempt to escape made the members laugh harder, their voices echoing through the lounge.

[Peace out]

“Knowing those two,” Minghao said under his breath, loud enough for everyone to hear, “they brought their own cards.”

PD Na groaned, though the faint smile on his face betrayed his fond exasperation.

Jeonghan, as smooth as ever, simply smirked, leaning slightly toward PD Na. “Don’t worry,” he said in his signature charming tone, “we’re not going to use it in Italy. Promise.”

Luna, still avoiding eye contact, shuffled a little further away, muttering softly, “It was instincts.”

Jeonghan chuckled at her, reaching out to gently tug her back toward the group. “Come on, don’t leave me to take all the heat, Nana-ya,” he teased, his voice light and playful.

PD Na could only shake his head at the two of them, muttering something about how this trip was going to test his patience, while the rest of the members laughed at the predictable antics of Jeonghan and Luna.

A few minutes later, slowly but surely, SEVENTEEN and the production team filed into the jet bridge, chatting quietly amongst themselves as they prepared for the long flight ahead. The earlier flight had been short and easy, but this one was a long-haul international journey, and the members were already settling into a more relaxed mindset.

Once on board, they moved to their designated seats in the business class area, where spacious seating arrangements awaited them. The seats were wide, with plush cushions and blankets neatly folded on each one. Small amenity kits and bottles of water were already placed on their armrests.

Luna found herself seated in between Jeonghan and Hoshi. As she slipped into her seat, Jeonghan took the seat to her right, immediately reclining back and sighing in satisfaction. To her left, Hoshi was fiddling with the control panel on his seat, testing the reclining features and grinning when he was finally comfortable.

Around them, the other members were settling in, their chatter dying down as the reality of the lengthy flight sank in. Blankets were unfurled and draped over laps, earbuds were placed in, and some even pulled out neck pillows for extra comfort.

The hum of the plane was steady, a calm precursor to the hours ahead. With fifteen minutes left before the plane doors closed, the cabin was mostly quiet save for the occasional exchange of whispers or chuckles.

As the members settled into their seats, the cabin was filled with the quiet hum of activity. Some adjusted their blankets, reclining their seats to prepare for the long flight, while others scrolled through the in-flight entertainment. The calm was short-lived, however, when a sudden commotion broke out.

Mingyu, who had been rummaging through his seat, abruptly froze. His movements became frantic as he began looking around in growing panic. His wide eyes darted around the cabin as his face paled— he lost his passport.

Within moments, PD Na was signaling to a few crew members to follow him as he led Mingyu off the plane, presumably to retrace their steps back to the lounge where the passport might have been left behind.

In the meantime, the remaining members, now on high alert, began sifting through their own belongings. Pockets were checked and overhead compartments were double-checked, though all seemed to confirm that their documents were accounted for. Some glanced toward the front of the cabin, their expressions a mix of concern and mild amusement at the unexpected delay, while others leaned back in their seats, trusting that the issue would resolve itself soon enough.

A few minutes later, the tension was broken when one of the producers suddenly appeared in the aisle and announced, “The culprit was Dokyeom.”

The words immediately caught everyone’s attention. Heads turned, and even those who had been half-asleep looked up in curiosity.

“What?” Luna asked, lowering her phone as she blinked in confusion.

Jeonghan, seated next to her, glanced up from his own phone. “What did Dokyeomie do?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement but genuinely curious.

“He had Mingyu’s passport,” the producer said, clearly suppressing a grin.

Luna chuckled, shaking her head. “Really?”

“Dokyeom brought it?” Jeonghan followed.

“Dokyeom was holding two,” the producer clarified, causing Jeonghan to chuckle alongside him.

“At least it’s not actually lost and it was just here,” Luna said, her tone lighthearted.

Her comment earned a laugh from Hoshi, who sat on her other side. “Imagine if Mingyu had actually lost it. That would’ve been a whole new level of disaster.”

[Don’t even try to imagine]

As the laughter subsided, Luna’s eyes drifted to the front of the cabin, where she spotted PD Na standing near Mingyu and Dokyeom’s seats. The producer looked visibly haggard, his shoulders slightly slumped as he spoke with the two members. His exasperation was clear, even from a distance.

Leaning slightly toward Jeonghan, Luna nudged him and pointed discreetly toward PD Na. “Look at him,” she said with a small laugh.

Jeonghan followed her gaze and chuckled softly. “He looks like he’s already had enough of us, and we haven’t even taken off.”

It didn’t take long for PD Na to notice them watching him. He straightened up, giving the pair a look that was equal parts tired and amused before shaking his head. “First those two disappearing,” he began, pointing at Jeonghan and Luna, “then another loses his passport,” he added, motioning toward Mingyu. “And now another is a kleptomaniac,” he finished, referring to Dokyeom.

[#HelpPDNa]

The comment earned loud laughs from Jeonghan, Luna, and the rest of the members who had been listening in.

“We are still in Korea,” PD Na said, turning to the camera crew as if speaking directly to the audience. His tone implied that too much had already happened before their journey had even properly begun.

[That we are]

Once everything was settled and back in order, the members eased into the rhythm of the flight, the earlier chaos a distant memory.

Next to Luna, Hoshi busied himself with the GoPro, the small camera in his hands capturing snippets of their journey. He hummed softly to himself, a lighthearted melody carrying through the cabin. “Vacation, vacation, vacation~,” he sang under his breath, his excitement palpable as his knee bounced slightly in anticipation.

Turning his attention to Luna and Jeonghan, he noticed how the two are starting to drifted off, their exhaustion catching up to them after the long day. Jeonghan’s head tilted slightly to the side, resting comfortably against the seat’s headrest, while Luna’s cheek was pressed gently into the cushion of her seat. Their blankets were pulled up snugly, rising and falling with each peaceful breath. Smiling fondly, Hoshi couldn’t resist reaching over and giving their cheeks a light, playful squeeze, their sleepy faces making him grin.

“This is really exciting. Going on vacation,” he murmured, his voice soft as he turned to Dino, seated at his other side. Dino, just as energized about the trip, leaned closer to chat with him, their quiet exchange blending seamlessly with the ambient sounds of the cabin.

Soon after takeoff, the cabin lights dimmed, signaling the start of the long-haul journey. Half the members, lulled by the gentle hum of the engines, opted to recline their seats fully and surrender to sleep. Blankets were spread across laps, pillows adjusted beneath heads, and soon the soft rustle of fabric and steady breathing filled the space. The calm was a welcome contrast to the earlier bustle.

Among those sound asleep were Luna, Jeonghan, and Hoshi, their trio now completely at rest. Hoshi’s GoPro was abandoned on his tray table, while Luna and Jeonghan remained cocooned in their seats. Their reclined positions, paired with the warm glow of the blanket light on their faces, gave them a serene appearance. The slow rise and fall of their chests matched the rhythm of the flight’s gentle turbulence, a reminder of the calm that had finally enveloped them.

[Peaceful at last]

Meanwhile, the other half of the group, resisting the pull of sleep, opted to peruse the in-flight menu instead. Quiet chatter accompanied the soft clinking of cutlery as the cabin crew moved swiftly to accommodate requests.

For the sleeping members, however, time slipped by unnoticed. Hours passed without interruption, and even as the faint aroma of lunch filled the air, those in slumber remained undisturbed, their bodies and minds recharging for the adventure that awaited them on the other side of the world.

By the time dinner service rolled around, the cabin lights were dim but warm, casting a comfortable glow over the business class section.

Jeonghan was awake, his seat upright as he stretched his arms above his head, the tension of sleep melting from his limbs. A small, serene smile tugged at his lips as he turned toward the camera stationed discreetly in front of them, acknowledging it with a soft, playful expression before glancing to his left.

His gaze landed on Luna, still sound asleep in her fully reclined seat.

Her petite frame was curled up beneath the thick airline blanket, which was pulled snugly up to her chin. In her arms, she cradled her plush bunny, Cherry, its long ears peeking out from the folds of the blanket. Her face was peaceful, her lashes fanned out against her cheeks as her breathing came in soft, even rhythms. The sight made Jeonghan’s smile grow, his heart softening at how impossibly small and endearing she looked in that moment.

Next to Jeonghan, Hoshi leaned over slightly to get a better look. “Are you gonna wake her?” he asked, his voice low but laced with curiosity, as if he too was reluctant to disturb Luna’s peaceful rest.

Jeonghan shifted, his attention never leaving her. “She needs to eat,” he murmured, his tone thoughtful.

His hand moved instinctively, resting gently on her back atop the blanket. He began to rub small, soothing circles between her shoulder blades, his touch feather-light and careful not to startle her awake. He’d done this before— more times than he could count… earlier morning for example— and he found he didn’t mind. Waking Luna had always been a gentle ritual, one he approached with the same patience and care each time.

“Nana-ya,” Jeonghan called softly, his voice warm and coaxing. His hand continued its slow movements, the rhythm steady and calming. “Nana-ya, wake up. Dinner’s here.”

Luna stirred faintly, her brows knitting together as she shifted her head slightly against the plush pillow. A faint hum escaped her lips, followed by a sleepy mumble that was barely audible.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” Jeonghan continued, a tender laugh slipping from him as he leaned in a bit closer. “You need to eat something. You haven’t eaten all day.”

Her eyes fluttered open slowly, her gaze unfocused as she adjusted to the dim light of the cabin. “What time is it?” she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep.

“It’s dinnertime,” Jeonghan replied, his tone soft and patient.

Luna blinked a few more times, her brain slowly catching up as she looked up at him with a dazed expression. “Where are we?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Still on the plane, somewhere on Earth,” Jeonghan answered with a quiet chuckle, his hand moving to gently smooth down her hair. “We’re nowhere near Italy yet.”

“Oh…” Luna mumbled, her eyes starting to close again as her head tilted back toward the pillow.

“Ah, no,” Jeonghan teased gently, his hand shifting to lightly tap her arm. “You’re not going back to sleep just yet. Come on, sit up for me.”

With a soft groan of protest, Luna pushed herself up, her movements sluggish and reluctant. Her seat began to rise as she adjusted the controls, her blanket still draped over her lap. As she sat upright, she spotted the camera in front of them, and her lips curled into a small, sleepy smile. Lifting a hand, she gave a slow, lazy wave to the lens, her fingers peeking out from the blanket.

Jeonghan watched her fondly, a quiet laugh escaping him as she rubbed her eyes with her free hand, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. “There she is,” he said softly, the affection in his voice unmistakable.

Luna looked at him then, her smile widening ever so slightly. “Did you really have to wake me?” she murmured playfully, though her tone lacked any real complaint.

“You’ll thank me when you eat,” Jeonghan replied with a grin, his tone teasing but warm. “Trust me.”

And despite her initial reluctance, the look in her eyes as she glanced back at him said she did.

[Food wakes her up]

Once their dinner trays were placed in front of them, Jeonghan leaned back slightly, his eyes flicking toward the camera. He grinned, his voice carrying a playful tone as he turned to Luna and Hoshi. “I feel like the members are going to get there, take their clothes off, and play in the ocean.”

Luna let out a soft yawn, still fighting off the lingering tiredness that clung to her even after waking. “Sounds fun,” she murmured, her voice quiet as she eyed the neatly arranged meal on her tray. Her movements were slow as she began to pick up her utensils, ready to eat.

Jeonghan’s gaze dropped to Luna’s top, where the small mic had been unpinned during her nap. Gently, he reached over, fingers deftly working to pin it back in place. “Hold still,” he murmured softly as he secured it to her shirt again. Satisfied with his work, he pulled back and smiled.

Hoshi, seated on Luna’s other side, seemed to be in his own world as he peeked down inside his tank top. His fingers tugged at the fabric, pulling it away from his chest to inspect it. Nodding to himself, he looked up at Jeonghan. “My shirt is so droopy,” he commented, matter-of-factly.

Jeonghan glanced over and raised a brow, noticing how the damp fabric clung awkwardly to Hoshi’s frame, weighed down from earlier. “It does look a little loose,” Jeonghan remarked with a faint smirk before returning to his food.

Hoshi shrugged and grabbed his utensils, diving into his meal. He chewed thoughtfully before speaking again. “Rice is good with just seaweed and kimchi,” he announced, his tone betraying a hint of longing as he looked down at his tray.

At that, Hoshi frowned slightly, realizing his meal didn’t include any kimchi. He poked at the rice with his chopsticks before mumbling, “Oh, I want kimchi.”

As if the absence of kimchi was suddenly more unbearable, Hoshi began tugging at his tank top again, trying to adjust it. The fabric stubbornly refused to stay in place, slipping lower as he fiddled with it. Luna, noticing his subtle frustration, glanced over at him.

“Do you want to ask them?” she asked, her voice soft and amused as she subtly gestured toward a nearby flight attendant. Catching the woman’s attention, Luna gave her a polite smile and signaled for her to come over.

When the flight attendant approached, Hoshi looked up, his tone hopeful as he asked, “Is there kimchi?”

The attendant offered him an apologetic smile. “We don’t have kimchi. We have shredded radish. Do you want some?”

Hoshi paused for a moment, considering his options, before nodding. “I’ll take the shredded radish,” he said with a resigned but polite smile. The flight attendant nodded and left to retrieve it.

As they continued eating, Luna couldn’t help but notice Hoshi’s repeated attempts to adjust his shirt. The constant tugging at the back of his tank top had her stifling a chuckle. Setting her utensils down, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a hair clip.

[Fidgeting]

“Hold still,” Luna said softly, leaning toward Hoshi. Before he could react, she took the straps of his tank top from behind and neatly clipped them together, effectively tightening the fabric to keep it from drooping further.

Hoshi blinked, looking over his shoulder at her with a wide grin. “Thank you,” he said, his tone genuinely grateful.

Luna smiled at him, her voice light and teasing. “Your whole chest was out, Shi-shi.” She reached out to lightly stroke his cheek, her gesture brief but affectionate, before she returned to her own meal.

Hoshi’s grin widened as he glanced up, his attention shifting toward the flight attendant who was approaching with his shredded radish. His eyes followed her eagerly, earning an amused look from Luna.

“Cute,” she said softly, her words meant more for herself than anyone else, but Hoshi caught them and laughed quietly.

Almost immediately after the word left her mouth, Luna heard Jeonghan’s playful voice next to her. “How about me?” he asked, feigning the innocence of a child craving attention.

Without missing a beat, Luna, accustomed to Jeonghan’s antics, responded absentmindedly, “The cutest.” Her tone was soft, yet distracted, her attention focused on the food in front of her.

But Jeonghan, ever mischievous, wasn’t satisfied. He leaned closer and poked her side just below her ribs, the action causing Luna to squeal and squirm in her seat, her blanket shifting slightly in the process. She turned to glare at him, her cheeks puffing in mock annoyance, which only made him smirk wider, pleased with himself.

Before she could say anything to scold him, Jeonghan quickly pointed to the screen on his seat, his smirk morphing into an expression of pure delight. “They have Harry Potter,” he announced, his voice slightly higher with excitement.

The words worked like a charm. Luna’s faux irritation melted away in an instant, her eyes lighting up as she turned to him, her tone now eager. “Really?” she asked, leaning forward slightly to peer at his screen. “Can we watch?” she added softly, her excitement tempered only by her shyness in asking him to watch together.

Jeonghan gave her a small nod, his smile gentle now. “We’ll watch together,” he said simply, his voice reassuring and warm.

The smile that spread across Luna’s face at his words was unmistakably genuine. Wasting no time, she pulled up her own screen, quickly navigating through the selection to find the Harry Potter series. She scrolled down until she found the first film, her fingers tapping swiftly but carefully to make sure she didn’t miss it.

Once it was ready on her screen, she glanced at Jeonghan’s to make sure he was on the same page.

Meticulous as ever, Luna leaned closer to his seat, checking his screen’s timestamp to align it perfectly with hers. She adjusted the slider carefully, ensuring both would start at the exact same second. Her brows furrowed slightly in concentration as she tapped to play both screens simultaneously, finally sitting back with a small sigh of satisfaction.

[The dedication]

She reached for her earphones and gently untangled the cord before placing them on her ears. Jeonghan, already settled with his own earphones, gave her an approving look, noticing how precise she had been to make sure their viewing experience was synchronized.

As the familiar opening notes of the iconic Harry Potter theme filled their ears, Luna leaned back in her seat, a small, contented smile tugging at her lips. Jeonghan stole a glance at her, his gaze lingering for a moment as her expression softened into one of quiet joy, fully immersed in the opening scene.

The rest of the cabin was peaceful, the soft hum of the plane’s engines blending with the faint murmurs of the other passengers. The subtle glow of their screens illuminated Luna and Jeonghan’s relaxed expressions as they enjoyed the movie together, the atmosphere between them warm and comfortable.

Outside, the plane continued to soar through the darkened sky, carrying them closer to their destination.

The thought of Italy lingered at the back of everyone’s minds— a new adventure waiting just beyond the horizon.

[SEVENTEEN is on their way Italy]

For now, the members rested, ate, and entertained themselves, their excitement bubbling beneath the surface. Each mile traveled brought them closer to memories waiting to be made, laughter waiting to be shared, and experiences they would hold close long after the trip was over.

[To be continued in Clip 1-3]

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[oxymorayuri]

❞𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐬?❝

Headcanons/Scenarios with my favorite boys [ Ace | Kid | Law | Doffy ] Content » Imagine you are pregnant with their child! How will they react? How will they prepare? just cute things ;3 Warnings: In Law's story, we experience an unpleasant birth with a few feelings that could be triggering. NO PROOFREADING

A/N: Not really headcanons… Kind of a mix of HC and scenarios. They're sometimes shorter or longer lol. ^////^

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: all images are by vasan5555

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃. 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐰

Telling him you're pregnant: You don't really tell him. lol.

You don't even know how to tell him. On the one hand, you know he'll be really happy, but on the other hand, you're afraid that it won't fit into his plans.

You sought advice from Ikkaku, but her words weren't really helpful. She suggested throwing a little surprise party because she's really happy for both of you, but you know that wouldn't be a good idea. Announcing to the whole crew that you're pregnant without Law knowing beforehand? Better not, that would overwhelm him.

You had already thought about just leaving the positive pregnancy test in the bathroom, but before you could, Law pulled you aside.

“Hey y/n-ya, are you okay? You've been acting weird lately.” You look around a little panicked, trying to think of an excuse.

“Weird? Ah no, it's probably just because… we haven't been on the surface for a long time… The air in the Polar Tang is getting a bit thin?” you mutter.

His gaze rests knowingly on you. He inhales deeply and rolls his eyes… he knows that something is wrong with you.

He gently grabs you by the shoulders and speaks in a calm voice that makes your heart flutter.

“Don't lie to me… There are clear signs, you know?” You look up a little anxiously without saying anything.

He groans a little. You're not usually so secretive… Now he has to do all the talking. He doesn't really like that, but it's about you after all. He tries to argue with facts he's noticed on you.

“You throw up quite often in the morning. At first I thought it was because you might have been drinking with the others, but then I saw for myself how you didn't take a sip of alcohol. You even refused when Shachi wanted to pour you a drink!” You get smaller and smaller under him as he states the obvious but Law is far from finished…

“According to my calculations, you should already be 6 weeks overdue with your period… Besides, I've seen you raiding the fridge at night, eating the strangest combinations. Cheese and chocolate, are you okay?” - “You stalker!” You're blushing… When you saw those two things, you just had to try them together…

The tears started to fill your eyes when he asked you if you were pregnant. With a small nod, you agreed to his assumption and Law wiped the tears from your cheeks with his thumb.

“I didn't know how to say it and I didn't know what you were going to say… I was scared, Law. You have your plans and…” Your words spilled out a little hysterically and without hesitation he took you in his arms. With his hand on the back of your head, he tried to calm you down with a few gentle strokes while you sniffed in his tight embrace.

“pshhh. It's okay y/n…” His soft voice against your ear calmed you down and as your breathing relaxed he looked firmly into your watery eyes.

“Plans change sometimes and I'm ready for any adventure.” He smirks at you with a sly expression.

His behavior / During pregnancy: Well, let's say he has 'studied' all the books about pregnancy.

You will spend most of your time with the Polar Tang underwater, as Law finds this safest while you are pregnant. However, he is aware of the importance of fresh air and sunshine, so you are regularly on the surface to breathe in the fresh ocean breeze and feel the sun on your skin. You're more than happy to be pregnant because normally you don't surface that often…

-

As your partner and doctor, he personally ensures that you have a balanced diet. He has even asked Sanji for advice. It was only a small call with the Den Den Mushi, but Law doesn't like Sanji very much, as he always fawns over you without any shame. Law knows which ingredients are nutritious but are they tasty? That's where Sanji is a big help.

Law passed on Sanji's greetings to you while you were reading a book on the sofa. You looked after him in surprise as he sat at his desk.

“Um, thanks… Sanji? How come you're on the phone with him?” You know what Law thinks of him. In his eyes, he's a perverted womanizer.

he froze a little when he realized that he had unintentionally told you that he was in contact with Sanji. But now it's too late to talk his way out of it.

“You know, I tried a few dishes that are supposed to give you strength, but they were awful… so I called Black Leg-ya…” He scratches the back of his head as he tries to avoid your gaze.

Belly round, you get up to walk over to Law and rest a hand on his shoulder. Law leans back a little as he looks you in the face. His cheeks turn a soft shade of pink and he makes room for you to sit on his lap.

Without saying much, you thank him and give him a loving kiss on the lips.

“Thank you for always being so thoughtful, Law.”

-

You are freed from your daily chores on the Polar Tang, but sometimes you get so bored that you find yourself doing little chores like washing and hanging up the laundry. No big deal, you think to yourself, but Law sees it quite differently.

“But babe, I'm so bored! It's just laundry…” you pout.

“If you're bored, then do something else, but not housework.” - “How about spending a bit more time with me?” You put your hands on your hips. You're the only one on the ship who has nothing to do while the others are busy and you can't keep them from working all the time…

Law wanted to say something but decided to close his mouth to think.

“Yeah, you know what? You're right. Meet me in the library at noon, I've got an idea.” Determined, Law set off, leaving you dumbfounded. You were expecting a little excuse, but not this. Law just has a few things to do and then he'll make time for you.

You wait for him in the library, a little excited, wondering what Law has prepared.

With a pile of books, he came into the shared library right on time at 12 o'clock and took a seat next to you on the huge sofa.

His idea was to read books with you that you had both bought for the child and so it became routine for you to read the books to each other every day. It was a lot of fun and you had a great time practicing your silly voices and matching it to the story. You are sure that your child will love it when you read to him or her.

Birth/when the baby is around: The birth is turbulent but Law is the perfect man by your side.

He wants to help bring the baby into the world but you are STRICTLY against it! You never want that in your life. He may be a doctor himself, but that's just not for you.

It took a while, but you managed to agree that a doctor from the city would come to you on the ship. A week before your due date, you docked in front of a small island with a peaceful town.

The mood on the entire ship became more and more restless from day to day, because your child wasn't making a move. You're long past the due date and even Law is starting to worry, but you're not making it any easier for him either, because you're refusing any help from Law.

The day you went into labor, the whole ship was on full alert. Bepo, Shachi and Penguin rushed into town to get the doctor on the ship while Law held your hand and did breathing exercises with you.

The birth was slow and you felt like days had passed, the pain was so numbing. Slightly distressed, the doctor began to change the preparations as it turns out your baby hasn't fully rotated yet.

“We have to prepare the operating room for a C-section!” - “C-section???!” Although you can barely hear because of the pain, you have clearly understood 'that'.

“I have to perform a scan while we move to the operating room…”

Things are moving way too fast for you as everyone around you rushes to get your bed and the ultrasound machines ready to head to the operating room.

Law doesn't even leave your side as you scurry down the corridor.

“The umbilical cord has wrapped around your son's neck!” Said the doctor. Desperation spreads through you, you can't relax and are afraid that you will push your son further out of you and strangle him. Wait a minute, a boy? You didn't even know the gender yet…

“Did you hear y/n? It's a boy! Let me make sure our boy gets out of you safely.” the tears run down your cheek uncontrollably. Your emotions are dancing the tango, you are so happy to be bringing a little boy into the world, but you are still afraid of the umbilical cord.

“Please Law, get our Rosinante out of me!” You squint your eyes because you can't see anything through all your tears. Law freezes for a millisecond when he hears the name but quickly pulls himself together.

“Doctor, please move aside.” Somewhat taken aback, the slightly older doctor moved aside and made room for Law.

With the help of Law's devil fruit, he gently extracted your child from your womb and held the crying baby in his arms.

His eyes widened at the sight of the helpless baby and the feeling inside him was as overwhelming as it was beautiful.

You look at him with a weary expression and watch this precious moment until exhaustion overcomes you to the point where you have to close your eyes.

The atmosphere is still very tense and even though you are no longer aware of it, everyone is doing their best to take care of you and Rosinante.

When you open your eyes for the first time, you find yourself in a hospital bed. Your gaze wanders around the room and lands on your side, where Law is asleep holding your hand. The movement wakes him up and he quickly gets up to ask you about your well being. After some time, when Law was sure you were okay, he brought your little boy into the room.

The dark circles under his eyes are nothing compared to the bright smile on his face as he holds your boy in his arms.

“Look Rosinante, mommy is awake. You can finally meet your mother.” The way he looks down at Rosinante… This is how Law always looks at you, full of love. He gently places him in your arms and the little one immediately snuggles up to your chest.

He is so beautiful that it brings tears to your eyes. He has his hair, his wonderful raven black hair. His little eyelids are closed and he sleeps contentedly in your arms. In his mother's arms. In Law's eyes, there is no sight more beautiful than looking at the two of you. He's happier than ever.

“He has your eyes, y/n…” he whispers as he strokes your cheek with gentle fingers.

𝐏𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐠𝐚𝐬 𝐃. 𝐀𝐜𝐞

Telling him you're pregnant: You could scream! No wait a minute, that's exactly what you're doing! XD

Every now and then you take a pregnancy test to be on the safe side. Since you both do it like animals in heat and neither use condoms nor can you be trusted to take your pill regularly, it's better to pee on the strip every now and then.

You look impatiently at the screen of the pregnancy test… A child wouldn't actually be such a bad thing. You and Ace have been a couple for a long time and have an unshakeable bond. Even though you're pirates, you're sure that you can lead a carefree life.

You have good cards with the Whitebeard pirates on the Moby Dick and if things get too rough, you're sure that Whitebeard will find an island within his territory where you'll be safe.

It feels like an eternity as you sit on the lid of the toilet with the test still in your hand. You wonder how Ace will react...

Will he be happy? You bet he will! As you daydream, you notice out of the corner of your eye how a second strip appears on the display.

Your eyes widen. I'M PREGNANT!

You scream like crazy, and when I say crazy I mean so loud that everyone on the ship should hear it.

Tears of joy gather as you do a happy dance in the small bathroom.

All of a sudden the door opens with a bang and Ace looks down at you in panic. He must have thought something else had happened because of your loud scream. It almost sounded as if you had been stabbed. At least that's what he must have thought from the look on his face.

“Babe, WHAT happened?!" He scans your body to see if you've suffered any damage, but you're fine.

With a shrill voice, you throw your arms around his neck and hug him tightly. Ace is visibly confused about the situation. He saw that you were crying but you're acting overly happy.

“What's going on?” His voice is a soft laugh as he hugs you tightly and buries his face in your hair. You lean back a little to look him in the face.

“Ace you're going to be a father!!!” At first he doesn't seem to fully grasp what your words mean but as the realization kicks in his eyes widen.

“ARE YOU PREGNANT?!” he grabs you by the shoulders and shouts in your face.

“YEEEESSS!” you shout back as the tears well up in your eyes.

“Please don't mess with me, are we really going to be parents?” His voice cracks a little and you nod silently to him and show him the test you took.

“That's awesome! We have to celebrate!” Just as he was about to leave the bathroom, he stops abruptly and looks at you with a serious face.

“But you're not allowed to drink alcohol!” Even though you roll your eyes, you have to giggle.

“I'm aware of that, my darling.” You go up on your toes to kiss him on the cheek and gently squeeze his hand.

Before you share the happy news, you share a loving moment together and kiss before walking out.

His behavior / During pregnancy: You know he's going to be the dad of the year after how he treats you.

He has taken time off for the duration of your entire pregnancy, with the clear permission of Whitebeard, to be at your side whenever you need him.

You never ask for anything in particular, but he is actually quite attentive and if he sees you putting your feet up with a heavy moan and relaxing on the deck, he comes straight over to pamper you with a foot massage.

-

He once made the extra effort to go to a special island for over 2 days because there was fruit there that you had an extreme craving for.

The funny thing is that he got you so many that at some point you couldn't see them anymore. He had tried to get more creative to avoid wasting the fruits and so he woke you up every morning with a glass of freshly squeezed juice.

He had even tried his luck at baking, but that went terribly wrong… But you found the idea incredibly cute and that's how you found your shared hobby - baking!

Together you created the most delicious things from the leftover fruits and jokes quickly started going around that if you two should settle somewhere, you should definitely open a small bakery.

You don't think that's such a bad idea. A perfect plan B.

-

He is literally glued to your belly and loves to feel your child through your skin. He didn't just cry once, but actually every time he felt your little one kick.

“Oh wow y/n did you feel that?” with his cheek resting on your stomach, he looks excitedly up at your face. You run a hand through his black hair and giggle in response.

“Of course I can feel it, after all, the baby is in my belly.” A little red in the face, he cuddles you and wraps his arms around you.

“Hehe that's true, you're right. I'm just so excited.” - “Me too, Ace…”

Birth/when the baby is around: If one of you is panicking then it's definitely Ace.

You approached him with weak feet to tell him that your water had broken and he immediately jumped up in panic to dash to you.

He definitely didn't know what to do with himself and ran back and forth in a panic to pack some of your things.

You look at him in confusion, not understanding what he is packing all your things for…

“Ace… Ace, stop!” you reach for him as he rushes past you.

“Why are you packing these things, I'm going to give birth on the Moby Dick, remember?” Ace suddenly seemed to remember and dropped the suitcase, which was barely closed.

There were various things scattered on the floor that had fallen out of the suitcase. A short glance at the floor and you burst out laughing.

What on earth has he packed? A few things are halfway understandable, but why would you need a bikini now? Not to mention that you're only going to Marco's infirmary to give birth. If you need anything, then someone else will get it… After all, your room is only a few meters away.

He carefully carried you in his arms to the infirmary and luckily for you, the birth took place without any complications.

When Marco wanted to hand the baby over to Ace, Ace didn't want to hold your little one in his arms at first.

“Oh no, give it first y/n, she had all the hard work so she should be first.” Even though he wanted you to have it first, he gazed longingly after the baby as Marco placed it in your arms.

He sat down on a chair next to you and clasped his hands together, watching you with pure pride.

You can hardly believe it yourself, but you are overjoyed…

“Ace, we're parents now…”

-

Ace loves to play with the child, even changing diapers is no problem. He is already looking forward to running around the deck of the Moby Dick with your child.

-

He always has a few bottles filled with milk on his belt and with the help of his devil fruit he can heat them up. It's like he's wearing a belt with grenades, you know? :D He skillfully spins the bottle in his hand and warms it to the perfect temperature to feed your hungry baby. You don't have to say anything or rush to the child because Ace is a responsible dad and loves to look after the little one.

-

Your child is just as much a ray of sunshine as you are and has the wild features of Ace. A combination that is impossible to resist.

Ace is definitely the fun parent of the two of you. You can already see how difficult it will be for him to stand his ground later on.

𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐨

Telling him you're pregnant: He wants you to bear his child.

You don't need to 'confess' it to him because it's a planned child. You are actively trying to get pregnant and as active as you are in bed, it didn't take long for the pregnancy test to come back positive.

“Wonderful news my little dove… You should be rewarded. What do you say? What does my little dove want, huh?” He leans down to you and lifts your chin with his finger.

There's a slight blush on your cheeks because Doflamingo's voice always sounds so seductive, no matter what he says. For a moment, you think about what he said. You're still a little excited that you're carrying his child.

“fufufufu… Is there anybody home in that pretty little head of yours?” a crooked grin graces his lips as he flicks your forehead.

You quickly regain your composure but your face turns red.

“Ah, I'm sorry my love, I'm just really happy that I've lost my voice.”

His laughter rings deep through the room as he pulls you onto his lap.

When you came into his office, he knew exactly what kind of message you had for him because when he's working, even you can't disturb him unless he calls for you.

He lavishes your hand with soft kisses and travels along your arm with more kisses until he gets past your neck and to your mouth.

You enjoy his tender touch as if it were already the reward, but you know that Doflamingo wouldn't accept this, so you think about it while you kiss sensually.

His big hands run over your figure and find a hold on your ass. He interrupts your kiss and if you pay close attention you can guess where his eyes are behind those red sunglasses.

“Tell me my love, what would make you even happier, huh?”

His whisper tickles your lips a little and in the back of your mind you already have an idea of what you want the most.

“Doffy, I really want to go shopping with you and buy things for the baby…” - “Your wish is my command.”

His behavior / During pregnancy: Hardly any different than before, but you'll be even more pampered.

Doflamingo will provide you with all the necessary servants to look after your wellbeing, and when you go into the city, more bodyguards than usual will follow you wherever you go.

His remark is still stuck in your mind: “…After all, there are 2 people to protect now…” he said to you as you were baffled by the amount of guards.

-

Even if he has to work a lot as king, he will always find time for you. He likes to take you out, and with luxurious appointments at the spa or a private visit to a hot spring, he'll make sure you're always relaxed.

Princess treatment is nothing new to you but since you are pregnant you have at least one professional massage a day besides the other appointments you have for your own comfort.

Manicure, pedicure, hairdresser, face masks, aqua aerobics to relax your tired bones, you name it.

-

The chefs are warned that whenever you are hungry for whatever, they have to prepare your every wish. No matter how late.

You fancy a special dish from the South Blue? Doflamingo had brought someone specially for you who can prepare any specialty with brilliance. He shows you his love through acts of service.

Birth/when the baby is around: He is smitten with the little miracle you have created and is already filled with pride.

He won't be there at birth but he will be the first one you see when you open your eyes. Just when you are at your most vulnerable, he will leave it to no one but himself to protect you.

-

You never thought Doflamingo could be so loving to a baby, but when you thought about it, he was always good to the kids in the gang. From the outside it may look like he's only interested in the skills, but you know for a fact that he respects and loves each of them as a member of the family.

At first you were a bit worried because you gave birth to a girl. After all, you were supposed to give him an heir to the throne.

“My dearest, that you have given me a daughter who is just as beautiful as her mother is like a gift from the gods.” While a few servants took care of your sweet girl to give you a break, he made certain insinuations.

“And who says one child is enough for me?”

His fingers gently stroked your skin while you had brunch on a picnic blanket in the castle garden. You blush immediately because you know exactly what he's getting at.

Another child with Doffy? You look after your daughter as she plays happily wearing a little pink feather dress that resembles Doflamingo's cape.

You shyly confess to him that you would love to have more children from him and before you could really finish talking he took you in his arms, ordered the servant to continue looking after your daughter and whisked you away to your bedchamber.

-

Doflamingo actually loves to dress your child :3

You know… You, him and your daughter in matching clothes… You're always well dressed.

𝐄𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐊𝐢𝐝

Telling him you're pregnant: He thinks you're joking and laughs as he turns his back to you and continues fixing his metal arm.

“I'm sorry Kid but I'm serious. I'm pregnant!”

He turns around because of your serious yet trembling voice.

You're not entirely happy either. You'd like to be happy, but you and Kid? Is that such a good idea? You stroke your arm feeling a little insecure as you stand in his workshop like a lost mess.

“Pregnant women have no place on the Victoria Punk…” - “What's that supposed to mean? Are you kicking me off the crew?!” You interrupt him with a raised voice. Your face is already turning red, but not from anger. You try to suppress your tears.

He grits his teeth in annoyance and approaches you with a pulsating vein on his forehead.

“What the fuck y/n! NO. Of course not!” You should just let him finish before you imagine something stupid.

He grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you close so that your noses are touching.

His eyes are filled with rage. You are always too hasty with your assumptions…

You look a little startled, but you know he's no threat to you when he gets this close because his grip is still gentle... You immediately regret accusing him of something like that. You know he would never kick you out of the gang. You were just too emotional…

His behavior / During pregnancy: He is constantly thinking of ways to do something useful for you and the baby but you hardly notice any of that.

His behavior doesn't really change in front of you. He's still a short tempered dickhead and that often leads to problems between you, especially now that you're having such hormonal swings.

-

It can always be dangerous on the Victoria Punk and sometimes you'll have to fight in the middle of the open sea. If Kid isn't around then Killer definitely is, because you are not 'allowed' to lift a finger.

You found this quite annoying in the first few weeks, after all you are still able to move quite well and you love to jump into the fight with the others.

After your first argument regarding this, you went your separate ways in a rage. A very typical picture after an argument between you; Kid disappears into his workshop and you flee to the crow's nest. What follows is days of ignoring each other until one of you can't take it anymore. But this time Killer followed you.

Killer broke the silence between you by simply telling you that Kid had a valid reason why you shouldn't fight and that you should please let him finish his explanation without butting in. A little offended, you wanted to say something at first, but you drop your shoulder and close your mouth. Even if you're angry, Killer doesn't deserve to suffer your rage. Kid is the one your anger is directed at. Your silence is Killer's signal that he is free to speak.

Your angry face quickly changed to a tearful one. The reason is as simple as it is understandable and you curse at Kid in a sobbing voice.

“Why doesn't he fucking tell me like you just did!” Your masked friend shrugs. That's a question that even Kid himself might not be able to answer.

“I think he's pissed off why you don't just let him do it, like you don't trust his decisions and then he gets…” “…Furious.” you finish his sentence. That's what Kid is like, a hothead but your hothead.

“Yep. Furious.” - “Argh! My fucking goodness no! I just don't want to be a burden and join the fight!” You feel bad.

Kid knows that you don't have a round belly at the beginning of your pregnancy, but Killer told you in secret that he's been reading books about pregnancy. Kid can read? That's the first thing that surprises you and then the fact that he reads pregnancy books of all things!

Not even you thought about it and suddenly you feel like a bad mom. Kid is really worried about you because he has read that stress and physical activity are a risk no matter what stage you are in.

The same evening you two reconciled. You apologized to him and didn't question anything, because otherwise Killer would be in serious trouble. Since then, you've simply accepted your fate.

-

You made an unexpected discovery in his workshop... There was a rather large object 'hidden' in the room, covered up so that you could only make out a rectangular shape.

Kid never covers anything in his workshop, so you got curious and looked what was hidden under the big cloth. You could hardly believe your eyes as you rubbed them in disbelief.

There was a crib in front of you and you're pretty sure he built it. The frame is up for debate, as the crib is made entirely of metal and almost looks like a cage that is open at the top… The metal bars give you prison vibes but your heart melts at his efforts.

On closer inspection, it actually looks quite cute too. He's even made a mobile with small figurines that look like fish and sea kings.

You don't even notice how the door opens behind you as you spin the mobile.

“So you found it, huh?” Startled, you turn around with one hand on your chest. You were so immersed that you didn't hear Kid coming up behind you.

With tears streaming down your face, you throw your arms around Kid's neck.

“I LOVE IT!”

Kid is generally proud of his work but your words are like music to his ears and with a grin he returns your embrace.

-

“What are you doing y/n?” You jolt as you push the furniture around in your shared room. Still standing on the doorstep with his hand on the handle, Kid looks at you with a raised eyebrow. You were just about to push an armchair across the room and in the middle of your movement you stop and grin at him, somewhat caught off guard.

“Uh, I… I'm just making some space…” - “Space?” A little annoyed, you raise an eyebrow; he could help you rather than ask you weird questions, after all, you're heavily pregnant. You put your hands on your hips a little bitchily.

“Yes, space! Don't just stand there and start helping. I'll make room for the baby?” Kid grumbles and sits down on the armchair. Confused, you gesture to him what this is supposed to mean, that clearly isn't any help. Kid's behavior confuses you a little, because his attitude is so different than usual.

Somehow he looks 'thoughtful'… Normally, he would have grabbed the armchair with his metal arm and taken it to where you want it. Why is he sitting down and looking at you with that confusing expression?

You raise your eyebrows questioningly and wait for a reasonable explanation. Struggling to find the right words, he scratches his chin, with his eyes focused elsewhere.

What's wrong with him? He seems to be lost in his thoughts? You don't recognize that from him. He seems to be preoccupied with something, but instead of ranting out loud or speaking rashly, he sits in front of you almost calmly.

His gaze tends to avoid you as he stares absently into space and you lean down towards him, visibly confused. His eyes look directly into yours and he groans a little irritated.

“Listen, you don't have to make room here because the baby's not moving in.” With your eyebrows drawn together, you lean back again and look down at the redhead. Well, not really down because Kid is pretty tall, let's say you're looking at him at eye level.

“Excuse me? The baby's not moving in here? The baby is not a roommate who we don't want to move in with… The…-” You stop your sentence abruptly and look down at your lips, where Kid's hand is resting. Kid doesn't have the nerve to listen to your rambling. You're taking it the wrong way again. But that's more his fault, because he always says things so stupidly, he's aware of that, but he's trying his best.

“Shut up for once, will you?” - “Excuse me?” You let out a muffled voice through his hand.

He growls at you a little as he lets go of you and stands up. Your gaze goes up to him while his goes down to you. There you both stand in front of each other, each with an annoyed look on your face.

“Do you remember that the Victoria Punk is no place for babies?” You think for a moment. You remember that and the fact that you thought he was going to kick you from the crew. You didn't really discuss what he meant by that, but now you're all ears.

“You and the baby will live in our hideaway.” - “WHAT?!” You're so perplexed that you spit a bit at him. Without taking his eyes off you, he wipes the spit off his chin. A little blushed, you mumble an apology.

Kid has no intention of leaving you there alone. He'll stop by often and try to stay as long as he can, but as captain, he has a duty to run his ship. He has made it clear to you in a surprisingly calm voice that it would not be a good environment for your child to grow up on the Victoria... If at all. It's too dangerous and what if something happens to your child? He's made the decision, that's how it's going to be done and there's no changing that.

You can more than understand his thoughts, but it would be nice if he had discussed this with you.

“You know Kid, you may be the captain but I'm still the mother of our child and before you make decisions like this you should talk to me!” You have to tiptoe a little as you point your finger at him. Rolling his eyes, he takes your hand away and gently pulls you towards him.

“You can make all the decisions in the hideout… For example, you can decorate the house however you like. No matter what it costs.” Your eyes light up at his words, “Apology accepted!”

Birth/when the baby is around: You will never see this man cry again. Only in your memories…

When he saw the sleeping face of your picture perfect child for the first time, a switch flipped in him. Who would have thought that Kid would ever have such feelings? The feeling of unfathomable love. The love he has for you is completely different, because he has learned to love you. But this baby? For your child, a love had been born in him that brought tears to his eyes. He will not learn to love this child. No. He will simply love your child more each day!

-

He is a bit reluctant to hold the baby, he even confessed to you that he is afraid of it because of his arm. He doesn't want to crush the baby. Watching him look at you with a crushed look on his face while you hold the baby is making you sad, so you think of something. You wrap a scarf around him and put your little one in the pouch so that he is lying on his chest. The sight is so wonderful. This tall, broad man with a baby carrier! How adorable.

Masterlist

'Hope you enjoyed it <3

[kiyawritesforf1]

Flirting in the Fast Lane

Pairing : Max Verstappen x shy!reader

Words : 2k

When they first met, she had no idea how her life would change. Max was bold, outgoing, and had this way of making people feel both nervous and excited. He was the kind of guy who thrived in the spotlight, and it wasn’t long before they found themselves together—despite her hesitations. It had started off as casual, but it didn’t take long before they were inseparable. Max, with his usual charm, had swept her off her feet in ways she never thought possible. He found her shyness endearing, and it wasn’t long before he decided to tease her whenever he got the chance.

The other drivers knew about their relationship, and they often saw Max making little comments that would leave Y/N blushing and flustered. At first, she had hoped it was just a one-time thing, but Max’s playful flirting became a regular part of their dynamic—and it never failed to make her heart race.

The Media Moment:

It was a race weekend, and the media was buzzing. The drivers were all gathered for a press conference, and Y/N was sitting in the front row, trying to stay as quiet and unobtrusive as possible. Max was sitting a few seats away, his usual confident posture in place, but his eyes kept flicking toward her. He couldn’t resist. He leaned in just enough for only her to hear him.

“You look beautiful today, babe,” he whispered, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

Y/N’s face immediately turned crimson. She tried to keep it together, not wanting anyone to notice how flustered she was. But Max, being Max, wasn’t going to make it easy for her. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“I-I’m fine, Max,” she stammered, her voice barely audible.

Max raised an eyebrow, his voice loud enough for the other drivers to hear, “Are you sure? You’re looking extra gorgeous today. Are you trying to steal my attention from everyone else?”

The other drivers turned toward them, noticing the subtle interaction. George Russell, who was sitting next to Max, smirked knowingly.

“Max, can you ever be serious?” George teased, his eyes flicking between the couple.

Y/N’s face turned even redder, her hands fumbling nervously in her lap. “M-Max! D-don’t do this here,” she whispered, her words practically tumbling over each other.

Max’s grin only grew wider. “You know I can’t help myself when you look this good.”

At that moment, Lando Norris, who had been listening intently, let out a soft laugh. “I think it’s cute. Max never holds back.”

“You’re embarrassing her, mate,” Daniel Ricciardo added, a wide grin on his face.

Y/N couldn’t even look at anyone anymore. She buried her face in her hands, wishing she could disappear. The teasing continued, but Max's playful smile never faltered. He was having far too much fun.

The Paddock Tease:

Later that day, after the practice session, Max and Y/N found themselves in the paddock, the sounds of the crowd and the whir of pit crews in the background. The sun was starting to dip, casting a warm glow over everything. Y/N was busy checking some details on her phone about the team’s strategy and race-day preparations, but she couldn’t help but notice Max walking toward her, a playful grin on his face.

Max was never one to let a moment slip by without having some fun. As he neared her, he stopped, looking at her with exaggerated interest.

“You know, you’ve been distracting me all day, Y/N,” he said, leaning in just enough for only her to hear, but his voice was loud enough for a few nearby drivers to overhear. “I can't concentrate when you look this good.”

Y/N’s eyes widened as she looked up at him, the warmth of her cheeks quickly spreading. “M-Max! Don’t start here,” she stammered, immediately glancing around to see if anyone had heard.

Max smiled, clearly enjoying her flustered reaction. “I can’t help it. You’re just too cute for your own good,” he teased, his voice growing louder, making sure the drivers in the area could catch every word.

As expected, Lando Norris was nearby and had clearly heard everything. With a smirk, he called out, “Max, you’re really shameless, you know that? You’re making everyone uncomfortable, especially Y/N.”

Max just shrugged, unfazed. “She loves it,” he said, winking at Y/N.

The other drivers nearby, including George Russell and Daniel Ricciardo, all exchanged knowing glances. They couldn’t help but laugh at Max’s antics, but also at how Y/N turned even more red every time he did this.

Y/N tried to keep it together but failed miserably as she awkwardly shuffled her feet. “M-Max, please…” she murmured, wishing for a hole to open up and swallow her whole.

“Aw, don’t be shy,” Max said, stepping closer, but before he could say anything else, Daniel Ricciardo walked by with a big grin.

“Max, seriously, you’re going to make her blush so hard that it might start affecting the team’s performance,” Daniel joked, his voice light and teasing.

Y/N let out a small, nervous laugh, her hands instinctively covering her face as she looked at the ground. “I-I’m fine, really,” she stuttered, trying to regain some composure.

“Sure you are,” Lando said with a laugh. “You’re just trying to hide that adorable blush of yours.”

Max couldn’t contain his grin, and neither could Y/N—despite her embarrassment. It had become almost a routine, this playful back-and-forth. Max’s teasing was relentless, but she couldn’t help but appreciate the way he made her smile through the discomfort.

“I’ll let you off the hook for now,” Max said, leaning down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “But only because you look too cute when you’re all flustered.”

Y/N could feel the heat on her cheeks, but as Max walked away, she couldn’t help but shake her head, laughing quietly at the ridiculousness of it all. It was just another day in the life with Max Verstappen.

The Race Day Tease:

The next morning was race day, and the energy was electric. Y/N and Max were in the paddock, getting ready for the day. Max was as confident as ever, but when he saw Y/N standing by the car, her focus on adjusting the gear and making sure everything was in place, he couldn't help himself.

He walked up to her, his voice low enough for only her to hear, “I think you might be distracting me from the race, you know.”

Y/N blinked, her heart racing as she looked up at him. “What do you mean?” she stuttered, completely confused.

Max flashed that teasing grin of his. “Every time I see you, it’s hard to focus. You’re too distracting.”

Y/N's face flushed instantly. “Max, please,” she whispered, the words practically slipping out of her mouth.

The other drivers, who had overheard Max’s comment, all turned toward them. George Russell, who was nearby, raised an eyebrow and smirked. “You’re making it hard for her to concentrate, Max. Maybe you should keep it down a bit?”

“Ah, don’t worry, George,” Max said, still looking at Y/N. “I can’t help it. She’s too cute when she’s all flustered.”

Y/N could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, and she tried to step back, but Max followed her, not letting up for a second. “Stop it, Max. I’ll never hear the end of it if everyone keeps teasing me,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

Max chuckled and finally pulled away, but not before giving her one last lingering look. “You know you love it,” he said with a wink.

Lando, who had been watching the entire exchange, shook his head. “Max, you’re just too much sometimes. But I can’t say I blame you. She’s definitely worth all that teasing.”

Y/N couldn’t stop herself from giggling nervously. The teasing never seemed to stop, but somehow, she was starting to get used to it—at least a little bit.

The After-Race Moment:

It was after the race, and Max had just finished his interviews. He was walking back to the paddock, and Y/N was standing by his car, waiting for him. When he approached, he grinned, clearly proud of his performance.

“You were amazing out there,” Y/N said, her voice soft but full of admiration.

Max raised an eyebrow. “Just amazing? I thought you’d have a better compliment than that,” he teased.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile that tugged at her lips. “You were perfect, as always,” she said, trying to stay composed.

Max stepped closer, his eyes softening for a moment. “You know, you’re the one who makes all of this worth it. I can’t wait to get home and celebrate with you.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words, but before she could respond, Lando walked by with a grin.

“Max, you’re really laying it on thick today, aren’t you?” he teased, giving Y/N a wink. “I think she’s about to melt in front of you.”

Y/N’s face turned beet red again, and she couldn’t stop herself from looking down in embarrassment. Max, however, just laughed and shrugged.

“Can’t help it, mate,” he said, looking back at Y/N. “I’ll always do whatever it takes to make her smile.

[ssa-dado]

6 - Synthesis

Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader

Genre: angst, fluff, slow burn

Summary: After an intense case, you and Hotch struggle with unresolved tensions from a previous argument. On the train back, Hotch overhears Peter comforting you about a recent tragedy, realizing he’s been blind to your pain. Later, Hotch unexpectedly shows up at your apartment, opening up and apologizing for his emotional distance, leading to a heartfelt moment of mutual vulnerability. That evening, you attend Peter’s welcome-back party, feeling lighter and reconnecting with the team. That's when Peter makes an unusual bet with you.

Warnings: death, grief, emotional abuse, domestic violence, family dysfunction.

Word Count: 7.6k

Dado's Corner: Phi posting two chapters in less than 12 hours? More likely than you think. I was supposed to wait until tomorrow, but I just couldn’t help myself. Thank you all so much for the love and support you’ve shown for the series so far! Each of you holds a special place in my cold little heart. Please don’t hate me after this - it hurts me, too - but hey, there’s some interrogation room Aaron to sweeten things up. I’m particularly proud of this cute, lovely chapter. It doesn’t make me want to jump out the window. Not even a little bit. Embrace the pain.

previous part ; masterlist

Gideon smiled knowingly, his eyes shifting between you and Hotch. “Thesis, antithesis, and synthesis,” he mused, almost as if he were speaking to himself but loud enough for you to hear. “Funny how life always seems to come back to that, doesn’t it?”

●

The observation room was dimly lit, casting long, uneven shadows over you and Peter as you stood behind the two-way mirror, your heartbeat seemed to echo in the quiet, barely audible over the hum of the fluorescent light. You watched Hotch on the other side, preparing to interrogate the suspect, he appeared calm as usual, wearing his mask of stoicism proudly on his face, but you could tell the tension was palpable.

The room beyond the glass was stark, the suspect sat at the metal table gleaming under the harsh light with a smug expression, arms casually draped over the back of his chair, utterly unbothered. Te view was borderline infuriating.

The hair on your arms stood up, not just from the cold, but from the overwhelming sense of helplessness that had settled over the case. You couldn’t shake the nagging thought that you were grasping at straws, the weight of the local police’s blunders pressing heavily on your chest. They had fumbled, and badly. Critical evidence had slipped through their fingers, lost or contaminated in the chaos. You didn’t even want to hear the whole story—you were too furious, your senses shutting down as the same detective who had once doubted your work stumbled through a pathetic apology. All you had now was Hotch. No physical proof, no solid evidence to tie this man to the crimes you knew he’d committed.

Your gaze flicked back to the suspect, his arrogance nauseating. He knew the game, knew the system, and worse, he knew how to manipulate it to his advantage. There was a clock ticking in your mind, every second precious, the sense of urgency suffocating. If Hotch couldn’t break him - if he couldn’t find a way past the layers of lies and smug indifference - you’d lose him. You couldn’t afford that, not now.

Peter’s jaw clenched as he observed the scene, his frustration evident. “This was a mistake,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “We warned them not to bring him in without something solid. Now we’re stuck trying to clean up their mess.”

You nodded, your mind still reeling from the argument with Hotch the night before, as if all of this mess wasn’t already enough for your nerves to handle. The tension between you two had lingered, unresolved and heavy, adding another layer to your frustration. You tried to shake it off, but it clung to you, making it even harder to focus. “Yeah, and now Hotch has to pull off a miracle,” you said, your voice tinged with both a tinge of annoyance and worry. “He’s got one shot to get this right.”

Peter turned his attention back to the interrogation room, his eyes narrowing as Hotch sat across from the suspect. “If anyone can do it, it’s him. I’ve seen Hotch work multiple times, and somehow he even looks sharper, more intense.”

Inside the room, Hotch began his interrogation with a measured calm, his eyes locked on the suspect, who lounged back in his chair, exuding a quiet confidence. Hotch started with the basics, the routine questions meant to establish rapport, but the suspect was playing his own game, answering with a smug smile and evasive nonchalance.

Hotch leaned back, crossing his arms as he observed the suspect’s every move, every twitch. “You’ve been careful,” Hotch said, his voice steady but probing. “I’ll give you that. You’ve covered your tracks well. But you slipped up, everyone makes mistakes, especially when they think they’re untouchable.”

The suspect smirked, feigning boredom. “You’re wasting your breath, Agent Hotchner. You and I both know you have nothing on me - no evidence, no witnesses. You’re grasping at straws.”

Hotch’s gaze remained unflinching, but you could see the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way he leaned in just slightly, narrowing the space between the two of them. “You’re right, we don’t have physical evidence, but we do have you, and that’s enough. Because here’s the thing - you’re not as smart as you think you are. You’ve made this personal, and personal is messy.”

The suspect chuckled, tapping his fingers lightly on the table as if this were a game to him. “Oh, please. I’ve seen every tactic in the book, and I’ve got an answer for all of them. You can’t intimidate me, Hotchner. I know my rights. You’ve got nothing.”

Hotch’s expression remained stoic, but there was a flash of determination in his eyes. “You think this is about intimidation? You’re missing the point. This isn’t about fear, it’s about you and the mistakes you’ve made. You’ve left a trail, little hints of who you really are. You think you’ve hidden them, but they’re there, buried in the details.”

The suspect’s confident facade faltered for just a second, but he quickly recovered, scoffing. “You’re reaching. This isn’t some TV show where the bad guy breaks down in a dramatic confession. I’m not saying a damn thing without my lawyer.”

Hotch’s demeanor shifted, a cold, calculating edge creeping into his voice. “Your lawyer? You think your lawyer’s going to save you? They’ll do their job, make sure you’re comfortable, make sure you feel safe. But at the end of the day, they’re not in here with you, they’re not the ones facing the consequences of your actions - you are. And you’ve got no one to blame but yourself.”

From the other side of the glass, you watched Hotch methodically chip away at the suspect’s arrogance. Each line of questioning was a carefully placed strike, designed to weaken his resolve, but the suspect wasn’t giving in easily. He deflected, twisted Hotch’s words, and tried to turn the conversation back on him.

“You think you’re so righteous, don’t you?” the suspect sneered, leaning forward with a glint of disdain in his eyes. “Sitting there, acting like you’ve got the moral high ground. You don’t know me, Agent Hotchner. You don’t know a damn thing about what I’ve been through, the people I’ve dealt with - you think you’re better than me?”

Hotch didn’t flinch even if the last words reminded him of the argument he had with you down at the lobby. “No, I don’t think I’m better than you, but I do know who you are. You’re the guy who blames everyone else when things go wrong, the guy who hides behind his intellect because he’s too scared to admit he’s just another coward trying to prove he’s not afraid. But guess what? That act doesn’t work on me.”

The suspect’s composure slipped, his anger flaring as Hotch hit a nerve. “You don’t get to judge me! You sit there like you’re some kind of saint, but you’re just as flawed as the rest of us. You have no right—”

Hotch cut him off sharply, his voice cold and unyielding. “You’re right. I’m not perfect. I’ve made my mistakes, and I own them. But I’m not the one hiding behind excuses, you are. You’re the one who thinks he can play God, decide who deserves to live or die based on your twisted sense of justice. But here’s the thing: you’re not in control, not anymore.”

From the observation room, you felt your chest tighten. Hotch was relentless, pushing the suspect further than you’d ever seen him push anyone before. It was as if he’d tapped into something raw and unforgiving, something that drove him to keep going, to tear down every last defense the suspect had.

Peter glanced at you, his brow furrowing. “I’ve never seen him go this hard. It’s like he’s on a mission.”

You nodded, the tension from last night’s argument still simmering inside you. You knew why Hotch was pushing himself like this: because of you, because of the unresolved words between you, and because he needed to prove something, maybe even to himself. “He’s not going to stop until he gets what he wants.”

Inside the room, the suspect’s attitude was crumbling. Hotch leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper, laced with a quiet menace. “You think you’re untouchable, that you’ve covered all your bases. But I’ve spent years in courtrooms taking down men just like you, men who thought they were too smart to get caught. I know every trick, every lie, every pathetic attempt to weasel your way out of the truth.”

The suspect’s face tightened, his hands clenching into fists as he tried to maintain control. But Hotch was unrelenting, his gaze piercing through every layer of the man’s defenses. “You don’t want to admit it, but you’re scared, I can see it in your eyes. You’re terrified that the truth is going to come out, that all your carefully crafted lies are going to fall apart right in front of you - so, here’s your last chance. Tell me the truth. Tell me why you did it.”

There was a beat of silence, a heavy pause as the suspect’s composure finally shattered. His shoulders slumped, his defiance giving way to resignation. He looked up at Hotch, defeated and angry, his voice breaking as he finally confessed, each word a bitter surrender. “Fine. Fine, you want the truth? I did it. I killed them. But you have no idea why. You don’t know what it’s like to be powerless.”

“No you’re right, I don’t.” Hotch sat back, a flicker of triumph in his eyes, though his expression remained guarded: he had what he needed. The confession was out, raw and unfiltered, pulled from the depths of the suspect’s desperation.

Peter let out a low whistle, still reeling from what he’d witnessed. “That was... intense. I’ve never seen Hotch like that, he’s kind of intimidating.”

You nodded in agreement, your gaze still fixed on Hotch as he calmly gathered his notes, preparing to leave the room. You could see the toll it had taken on him, the emotional weight he carried even as he walked out victorious, and as much as you wanted to celebrate the success, the confrontation from the night before still lingered, leaving you with the unsettling realization that this fight wasn’t just with the suspect - it was within Hotch himself.

When Hotch stepped out of the interrogation room, the tension in his posture seemed to ease, but only slightly. His face was set in its usual mask of calm control, yet there was a heaviness in his eyes, a flicker of something raw that he couldn’t quite hide. Peter clapped him on the back, a mix of admiration and relief in his expression. “Hell of a job, Hotch. You tore him apart. I’ve seen you work, but that was something else entirely.”

Hotch gave a tight nod, his jaw still clenched, but his gaze was already shifting past Peter, landing on you. His eyes were searching, almost like he was trying to gauge your reaction, seeking some unspoken acknowledgment from you. “Thanks,” he said, his voice measured but tinged with exhaustion. “It had to be done.”

You stood there with your arms crossed, leaning against the wall, trying to maintain a composed exterior, but inside, you were anything but calm. Watching Hotch in that room, ruthlessly tearing down the suspect’s defenses, stirred something deep within you. It was impressive, yes, but also unsettling. You had never seen him so relentless, so driven - and you knew exactly what was fueling his determination.

As Hotch’s gaze lingered on you, there was a silent understanding between you, a shared acknowledgment of the emotional battlefield you both were navigating. The words from your argument the night before still echoed in your mind, sharp and unresolved, like an open wound that hadn’t had the chance to heal. The case had forced you both to set your personal issues aside, but now, in the aftermath, they were still there, hovering between you like a shadow neither of you could ignore.

Peter glanced between the two of you, sensing the charged atmosphere but choosing not to comment. He knew better than to pry, but even he could tell that whatever was going on between you and Hotch went deeper than the usual tension of a difficult case. “We got what we needed,” Peter said, trying to break the silence. “That’s what matters. Now we can finally put this bastard away.”

Hotch nodded, but his eyes never left yours, and in that moment, it felt like the rest of the room had faded away. It was just the two of you, caught in a silent standoff where neither of you knew how to take the next step. You wanted to say something, anything that would bridge the gap that had formed between you, but the words caught in your throat, tangled with the emotions you’d been trying so hard to keep in check.

The triumph of the confession felt hollow against the weight of what was still left unsaid. You and Hotch had always been able to read each other, but now, standing on opposite sides of this unspoken rift, it was as if the connection you’d relied on had fractured. There was so much you wanted to ask him: why he’d pushed so hard, why he seemed so desperate to prove something today, and why he couldn’t let his guard down, even for a moment. But instead, you just nodded, swallowing back the questions that burned at the back of your throat. “You did what you had to do,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, though it wavered slightly. “Good work, Hotch.”

Hotch’s gaze softened for a brief second, a flicker of regret or maybe gratitude crossing his features, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “Thanks,” he replied, his voice lower, more personal than before. “We all did.”Peter’s presence was a reminder that you weren’t alone, but it didn’t ease the tension that thrummed between you and Hotch. As Hotch turned to leave, the weight of your argument still hung heavy, unresolved, and painful. You watched him go, the distance between you feeling wider than ever, despite being just a few feet apart.

And as you stood there, with Peter by your side and the echo of Hotch’s footsteps fading down the corridor, you realized that the hardest part of this case wasn’t just about catching a killer, it was about facing the fractures in your own relationships, the ones that no amount of profiling or interrogation could ever fix.

The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels against the tracks was a dull, constant noise that filled the otherwise quiet cabin. You sat alone, your head down and your pen moving steadily across the paper as you filled out your case report. It was a task you’d thrown yourself into, your way of avoiding the one thing you weren’t ready to confront: Hotch.

Hotch sat a few rows behind you, his back to you, mirroring your actions as he worked on his own report with a similar intensity. It was almost poetic how the two of you were so much alike: both of you throwing yourselves into your work to avoid the harder truths, and neither willing to make the first move toward reconciliation.

As you focused on your writing, you heard footsteps approach. You didn’t need to look up to know it was Peter; you’d recognized the casual confidence in his stride from a mile away. He slid into the seat beside you without asking, his presence a familiar and oddly comforting interruption.

Peter glanced at your half-filled report, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You never could sit still, could you?” he said, his voice soft but laced with a hint of fondness. “Always working, always thinking.”

You tried to muster a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Just trying to get this done before we get back,” you said, your tone evasive. You knew why he’d come over, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the conversation you’d been avoiding since you’d seen him again.

Peter watched you for a moment, his expression shifting from casual to serious. He took a deep breath, glancing at the report before returning his gaze to you. “Y/N,” he began, his voice quieter now, “I’ve been wanting to tell you this since I got back, but I didn’t want to bring it up while we were in the middle of the case.”

You stiffened, knowing exactly what he was going to say but hoping he wouldn’t.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for your dad’s funeral,” Peter said, his voice heavy with regret. “I wanted to be, but I was stuck overseas. I hate that I wasn’t there.”

You clenched your jaw, staring down at the paper in front of you, your pen hovering uselessly above the page. The memories of that day flooded backstanding at the grave, the heavy weight of loss pressing down on your chest, and the overwhelming feeling of being completely and utterly alone. You’d been surrounded by people, but none of them had truly understood, none of them had been him.

“It’s fine, Pete,” you said, though your voice was shaky. “You were doing your job. Besides, it’s not like it would’ve changed anything.”

Peter shook his head, frustration flickering in his eyes. “No, it’s not okay. You were always there for me, even when we were just kids trying to figure out what the hell we were doing with our lives. And I couldn’t even show up when you needed me the most.”

Peter studied you, his eyes searching yours. He could see the cracks you were trying so desperately to hide, the way you were holding yourself together with sheer willpower. “I should have been there,” he insisted gently. “I know how much you went through with him… I remember everything you told me about him.”

A knot formed in your throat as you thought back to your childhood, your father’s relentless work ethic, his unyielding drive for perfection. He had been your hero in so many ways, but he’d also been your downfall. You’d inherited his toxic trait of overworking yourself, the constant need to be better, to be more. It was how you’d coped with the chaos at home, the screaming matches between your parents that had been your daily soundtrack. Your mother, exasperated and exhausted, would often switch languages mid-argument to keep you in the dark, to protect you - or maybe just to exclude you - from the mess they had created.

“I was just a kid, you know?” you said quietly, your voice tinged with bitterness. “All I wanted was to understand why they were always fighting. I started learning every language my mom switched to, Italian, Spanish, anything that would give me a clue, but instead of finding answers, I just… found more reasons to stay away.”

Peter’s eyes softened, a flicker of pain crossing his features as he listened. “You drowned yourself in books, in knowledge, just to escape,” he said, his voice low. “I remember you telling me that once, how you’d sit in those lecture halls at the university, absorbing everything because it was better than being home.”

Your childhood had been filled their voices rising in heated exchanges that always seemed to end in silence, your father retreating to his study to bury himself in more work, and your mother seeking solace in her books. To escape the turbulence at home, you’d thrown yourself into your studies with a fervor that bordered on obsession. You’d devoured literature, philosophy, psychology, anything that could distract you from the reality of your parents’ failing marriage, to gain a semblance of control in a world that often felt chaotic and out of reach.

You had become fluent in the languages they used to hide their pain from you, and in doing so, you became fluent in the art of distancing yourself from your own emotions. The habit of overworking, of pouring yourself into every task with unrelenting focus, was something you had learned from your father, a toxic legacy that you couldn’t quite shake, even now. It had been the source of countless arguments with your mother, who had begged you not to follow in his footsteps, to find balance, to live a life that wasn’t dictated by the demands of work. But it was easier said than done, and as the years went on, you found yourself mirroring his habits more than you cared to admit.

You nodded, swallowing hard against the emotion that threatened to choke you. “I kept pushing myself, kept chasing after something I couldn’t even name. My dad… he always told me that hard work was the only thing that mattered, he never slowed down, never stopped, and neither did I. Even when their marriage fell apart… even when he got sick. I just… I couldn’t stop.”

You hesitated, your eyes welling up with tears that you refused to let fall. “I didn’t even cry at his funeral, I just stood there, feeling nothing. And I haven’t been to visit his grave since.”

Peter gently reached out, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, tightly hugging you. “It’s okay not to be okay, Y/N,” he murmured. “You don’t have to carry this all on your own. The least I can do is be the shoulder you can lean on.” Peter squeezed your shoulder gently, his eyes filled with compassion. “Your dad was tough, but he loved you, Y/N. And you don’t have to prove anything to him, not anymore. You’re allowed to grieve, to feel lost, to not have all the answers.”

You nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. “I know. But sometimes it’s hard to remember that.”

Hotch sat just behind you, his back facing yours, he had intended to keep to himself, to give you the space you needed, but the quiet murmurs of your conversation had carried over. He couldn’t help but overhear Peter’s words, and as he listened, a wave of guilt and realization washed over him.

Hotch had always prided himself on his ability to read people, to see through the masks they wore, but he hadn’t seen through yours. He hadn’t seen the pain you’d been hiding, the grief that had been eating away at you just beneath a slim surface. And suddenly, your words from the night before came crashing back: how he didn’t know you, how he’d never bothered to look beyond the professional facade you’d built.

His own mind flickered back to his childhood, the memories of his father’s anger, the violence that lurked behind every door. Hotch had spent years burying and hiding those scars, never letting anyone see how deeply they ran. He had kept it all locked away, just as you had, believing that the only way to survive was to keep moving, to never let the pain catch up.

For the first time, Hotch truly understood why you had lashed out at him. You had seen in him the very thing you feared in yourself: the relentless drive to work, to control, to avoid facing the hurt that lingered beneath. He realized now that you were so much more alike than he had ever imagined, both of you haunted by the ghosts of your pasts, both trying to outrun the pain that always seemed to catch up.

As Hotch stared out the window at the passing scenery, he felt a deep sense of remorse. He wished he had known, wished he had been able to offer you the support you so clearly needed. But all he could do now was hope that you would one day trust him enough to let him in, to share the burdens you had been carrying alone for far too long.

Peter’s voice broke the silence, pulling Hotch from his thoughts. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, you know that? But it’s okay to let someone else be strong for you, too.”

You nodded, wiping away the tears that had finally escaped. “Thanks, Pete. It’s just… it’s hard.”

“I know,” Peter said softly. “But you don’t have to go through it alone.”

Hotch listened to the quiet exchange, the raw honesty between you and Peter striking a chord deep within him. He knew now that he couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine, that the walls he had built were enough to protect him or you. As the train sped toward Quantico, Hotch made a silent promise to himself: he would do better, he would be better. For you, and for himself.

Because in the end, you both deserved more than just the comfort of solitude. You deserved to be understood, to be seen, and to finally let go of the burdens you had carried for far too long.

Peter on the other hand had always been the kind of friend who could read you like a book, even when you tried to keep the pages closed. And after this emotional confrontation he knew he didn’t have to push further. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes, the way you were holding yourself together by the thinnest thread. So, he did what he always did best, he tried to lift your spirits, if only for a moment.

He leaned back in his seat, studying your expression with a knowing smile. “You know, Y/N, you don’t have to unload everything on me right now. You’re allowed to keep some things to yourself. You don’t owe anyone your pain.” His tone was light, but there was a deep, unspoken understanding beneath it. He knew you were struggling, and he wanted you to know that it was okay to take your time.

You gave him a small, tired smile, grateful for his patience. “I know, Pete. It’s just... hard to talk about. I’ve been so focused on work, it’s easier that way. It’s all I know.”

Peter nodded, his eyes softening with empathy. “I get it. But maybe it’s time to leave work behind, just for a little while. You don’t have to think about everything right now. Start small. Maybe try coming out of your room every once in a while?” He said it with a teasing grin, nudging your shoulder playfully, hoping to coax even the smallest laugh out of you.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head at his attempt to lighten the mood. “I know, I’ve been a bit of a hermit lately. I guess it’s easier to just shut myself away.”

Peter’s smile widened, and he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, lucky for you, your presence is strictly required at my welcome-back party tonight. The team’s putting it together, and you have no excuses not to come. I already told them you’d be there.”

You groaned, though there was no real annoyance behind it. “Seriously? Peter, I don’t know if I’m up for-”

He cut you off, holding up a hand. “Ah-ah, no excuses. We’ll be back by early afternoon, you’ll have plenty of time to rest, take a shower, and then you’re going to show up and have a good time, even if I have to drag you there myself.”

You rolled your eyes, but his enthusiasm was infectious. There was a warmth in his insistence, a reminder that you weren’t alone and that there was still joy to be found, even in the smallest of moments. “Fine, fine. I’ll be there. But only because you’re the most obnoxiously persistent person I know.”

Peter laughed, giving you a mock bow from his seat. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But seriously, Y/N, it’ll be good to see you outside of the office for once. We all miss you, and I promise, you’ll be glad you came.”

You nodded, feeling a small flicker of anticipation amidst the exhaustion. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to look forward to something that wasn’t work, something that didn’t involve endless reports or painful memories. It wasn’t a solution to all your problems, but it was a start—a chance to reconnect with the people who mattered, to take a breath and remember that there was more to life than the shadows that had been chasing you.

As you looked at Peter, his familiar smile reminding you of all the good things you’d shared over the years, you felt a small surge of hope. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all.

The train ride back to Quantico had felt endless, but the weight of the unresolved emotions made the journey back to your apartment even more suffocating. Peter’s words lingered, tugging at wounds you hadn’t dared to touch, and Hotch’s distant presence weighed heavily on your mind. The familiar solitude of your apartment was supposed to be comforting, but tonight, it felt more like a reminder of all the things you’d been running from: your grief, your past, and the fragile, fraying connection with the person who had come to mean so much to you.

You dropped your bag onto the floor, letting it fall with a thud that echoed through the empty space. You leaned against the kitchen counter, feeling the cool surface against your palms as you tried to ground yourself. You wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. It was as if you’d locked them away, buried them beneath layers of duty and distraction.

But then there was a knock at your door, soft and tentative, almost like the person on the other side wasn’t sure they should be there. You hesitated, wiping at your eyes quickly as if to compose yourself, and moved to answer. You half-expected to find Peter, still worried about you after the train ride, or maybe even no one at all, just a mistake. But when you opened the door, it was Hotch who stood before you.

He looked different, more vulnerable and uncertain than you had ever seen him. His usually composed demeanor was frayed, and there was a rawness in his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and heavy burdens. He stood there awkwardly, clutching the doorframe as if it were the only thing keeping him upright, his face etched with a mixture of hesitation and determination.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you like a fragile thread, one wrong move away from snapping. Hotch looked down, swallowing hard as if searching for the right words. He wasn’t in his usual pristine suit but rather dressed in a simple shirt and jeans, his attire as out of place as the uncertainty written across his face.

“Hotch?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, tinged with both surprise and concern. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he just looked at you, as if he was struggling to find the right words, struggling to let down the walls he had spent a lifetime building. He stepped inside, and you quietly closed the door behind him, your heart pounding as you waited for him to speak. He took a few slow steps into the living room, glancing around as if trying to ground himself in the unfamiliar space.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice strained and brittle, every word heavy with unspoken pain. “I know this isn’t… I shouldn’t have just shown up like this, but I needed to talk to you. About… about what you said last night, and today on the train. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overhear your conversation with Peter.”

This wasn’t the composed, confident man you knew at work, this was Aaron, someone you never got to see, someone who was barely holding it together. “ You were right, Y/N. You were right about everything.”

You stood there, frozen, as his words hit you like a wave. You had never heard Hotch sound so vulnerable, so broken. He was always the strong one, the unshakable agent who never let his guard down, but tonight, he was just Aaron, and he was struggling.

“I’ve spent my whole life trying to keep things separate,” he began, his voice trembling. “I thought if I could just focus on the work, I could ignore everything else—everything that hurt, everything that felt out of my control. But I can’t keep doing that. It’s not who I am, and it’s not who I want to be anymore.”

Hotch’s hands shook as he tried to steady himself, his eyes brimming with emotions he had kept buried for so long. “My father... he was abusive. He was cruel in ways that I can’t even put into words. He’d tear me apart with his words, his fists, anything to remind me that I was never good enough. I grew up in a house that felt more like a battlefield than a home, where silence was never safe and every day was just another fight to survive.”

His voice cracked, and you could see the weight of those memories in his eyes: the fear, the shame, the endless need to be perfect because nothing less would ever be enough for a man who thrived on control. “I tried so hard to protect my mom, my brother, but I was just a kid. There were nights when I’d lie awake, praying he’d leave us alone, praying I’d be strong enough to make it stop. But it never did. And I swore that when I grew up, I’d never be like him. I’d never let anyone see that weakness.”

You listened, your own tears finally breaking free as his pain washed over you. You had never imagined Hotch’s past had been so brutal, so deeply scarred by violence and fear. He had always seemed so put together, so composed, but now, you could see just how much he had been hiding, how much he had been carrying all this time.

“I thought if I kept that part of myself locked away, I’d be able to move on. I thought… I thought if I became Hotch, the profiler, that it would erase all the things he said I’d never be. But it’s just made me more closed off, more afraid to let anyone in. And I’ve been doing it for so long, I don’t even know how to stop.”

He looked at you, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, and you could see the desperation there - the plea for understanding, for forgiveness, for something he couldn’t quite name. “I don’t know how to let people in, Y/N. I don’t know how to not be this… this guarded version of myself. But if I’m going to try, if I’m going to let anyone see me, I want it to be you. Because you were right when you said I don’t know you, but I want to. And you deserve to know me, too—the real me.”

The vulnerability in his voice shattered something inside you, and without thinking, you closed the distance between you and pulled him into a tight, desperate hug. Hotch tensed at first, unaccustomed to such unguarded intimacy, but then his arms wrapped around you, and you could feel him finally letting go. His head bowed against your shoulder, and his entire frame shook with the silent sobs he’d been holding back for too long.

You clung to him, your own tears mingling with his, and in that moment, it felt like the dam you’d both been holding back had finally broken. You were no longer the stoic agents who always had the answers, always kept it together. You were just two people, scarred and hurting, trying to find solace in the only way you knew how: by holding on to each other.

Hotch’s hand moved to the back of your head, his fingers tangling gently in your hair as he held you closer, as if you were the lifeline he had been searching for. He whispered apologies between his tears, his voice cracking with the weight of his regrets. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I didn’t see it. I didn’t see you.”

You shook your head, burying your face into his neck, your tears soaking through his t-shirt as you let out all the grief you’d kept buried: the loss of your father, the unresolved pain of your parents’ broken marriage, the way you had thrown yourself into work to keep from falling apart. You had been running for so long, hiding behind your accomplishments, just like him.

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry, Aaron,” you whispered through your tears, the use of his first name slipping out naturally in this moment of raw honesty. “I had no idea. I was so angry, and I—”

He shook his head, his voice soft but firm as he whispered back, “You don’t have to apologize. You were right… about all of it. I needed to hear it. I needed to face it.”

The two of you stood there for what felt like an eternity, wrapped up in each other’s pain and understanding, the weight of your shared burdens finally feeling just a little bit lighter. There were no perfect words, no easy fixes, but in that embrace, you found something neither of you had expected—comfort, solace, and the beginning of a new kind of trust.

“It’s okay,” you whispered through your tears, clutching him tighter. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

For the first time, it felt like you were truly seen, truly understood, and the relief of it was overwhelming. You didn’t have to pretend anymore, didn’t have to be strong or perfect or put together. You could just be, and he could just be, and that was enough.

Hotch pulled back slightly, your eyes finally met, both of you still teary but no longer hiding. There was a silent understanding there, a promise that from now on, things would be different. “No more walls. No more hiding.” He murmured, his voice shaky but filled with a quiet determination.

You nodded, and for the first time in a long time, you believed it. You didn’t know what the future would hold, but as you held each other in that quiet, tear-stained moment, you knew that you weren’t alone anymore. You had each other, and that was a start. It was messy, and it was painful, but it was real. And in that, you found hope - hope that maybe, together, you could begin to heal. You weren’t just partners in the professional sense anymore; you were something more—two people learning to let each other in, to lean on each other’s strength when your own wasn’t enough. And in that simple, fragile moment, you both knew that whatever came next, you wouldn’t have to face it alone, that your new friend would be right there at your side.

The evening had settled over the city, and the Irish pub next to your apartment block was buzzing with energy. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to feel a glimmer of lightness, excitement bubbling at the thought of spending time with Hotch, Peter, and the rest of your colleagues from the BAU. After everything that had happened, the weight of unresolved emotions had eased, if only slightly, and you found yourself looking forward to reconnecting with your team outside the pressures of the job.

Earlier that afternoon, you’d stopped by a bookstore, the small shop tucked between a row of cafes and boutique stores you often passed but rarely visited. As you browsed the shelves, your eyes fell on a book titled "Hegel for Dummies." It was a perfect, lighthearted gesture, a small symbol of your newfound friendship with Hotch, and a callback to the night you’d spent poring over Frank Lloyd Wright’s designs at the library. You thought that maybe, after his recent dive into architecture, he might take an interest in philosophy too, especially Hegel, one of your favorites. The book felt like a tiny olive branch, a way of letting him into your world a little more, just as he had let you into his the night before.

You imagined him reading it, piecing together Hegel’s ideas on thesis, antithesis, and synthesis, and maybe learning something about you in the process. And who knew? Maybe one day, if you were lucky, he’d hand you one of his favorite books, offering you another glimpse into the parts of himself he rarely showed.

When you walked into the pub, the warm light and chatter were an immediate comfort. You spotted your team at a long wooden table near the back, and to your surprise, you saw Gideon sitting there, crutches leaned against the wall, his leg injury having kept him out of the latest case. Rossi was beside him, the two of them looking as inseparable as ever, trading stories and laughs over pints of beer. It was a sight that immediately lifted your spirits.

“Look who finally made it!” Rossi called out, waving you over. “Come on, we saved you a seat.”

You grinned, making your way through the crowd. “Rossi, Gideon, you two didn’t tell me you’d be here.”

Gideon leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Well, you didn’t think we’d miss the party, did you? Besides, someone has to make sure Peter doesn’t get too full of himself.”

Peter shot you a wink, raising his glass in greeting. “They’re just here to bask in my glory, Y/N. But don’t let them fool you, they’ve been talking about you all night.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you took a seat between Gideon and Peter. “I’m sure they have. So, what did I miss?”

Before anyone could answer, Hotch walked in, his presence as commanding as ever, though there was a new softness in his eyes when he spotted you. You exchanged a smile, a silent acknowledgment of the night before, and of the steps you were both taking toward something new, something vulnerable.

“Hotch!” Rossi greeted, patting the empty seat beside him. “Come sit, we’re debating where Peter’s new desk should be. Since Y/N’s parked herself at his old one, we might need to reshuffle the whole bullpen.”

Hotch took his seat, glancing at you with a teasing smile. “I think she’s gotten too comfortable. I doubt she’s giving it up.”

Peter leaned in closer to you, his voice low and conspiratorial whispering into your ear “Wanna make a bet?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “See that woman behind Hotch’s shoulder? If she doesn’t come talk to him, you get to keep your desk.”

You eyed the woman briefly, noticing her casual yet elegant demeanor, but she seemed engrossed in her own conversation. Hotch was engaged in a discussion with Rossi, showing no sign of noticing her. You were confident this would be an easy win, especially given Hotch’s typically reserved nature. “Alright,” you said, turning back to Peter. “And what do you get if you win?”

Peter’s grin widened, the playful edge in his voice unmistakable. “A date. With you.”

The unexpected proposition caught you off guard, and for a moment, you felt your cheeks warm. You glanced at him, trying to gauge if he was serious, but his expression remained light, teasing. You brushed it off with a laugh, pretending he was just messing with you. “Okay, you’re on.”

But no sooner had you accepted the bet than the woman, as if she had somehow overheard your conversation, moved toward Hotch with an expression of surprise. You watched in stunned silence as she approached, her voice soft and familiar. “Aaron? What were the odds?”

Your heart sank as Hotch’s face lit up, a rare and genuine smile crossing his features, his cheeks flushed slightly, and there was a familiarity between them that made your chest tighten. You felt Peter nudge you, his voice breaking through the shock. “Looks like you owe me a date.”

You barely registered his words, too fixated on the interaction unfolding in front of you. Hotch returned to the table with the woman by his side, her presence seeming to fill the room in a way that made you feel suddenly small and out of place. Hotch’s voice cut through the noise, introducing her with a casualness that belied the weight of the moment. “Everyone, this is Haley.”

You barely managed to hold your composure, the pieces of this unexpected puzzle falling into place as you processed Hotch’s flushed expression and the warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. This wasn’t just anyone, this was someone from his past, someone who clearly was very close and definitely had shared some sort of romantic history with him. The bitter thoughts stung more than you wanted to admit.

Before you could say anything, Gideon, ever the observant one, leaned over, catching sight of the corner of a book sticking out of your open purse. “Hegel for Dummies?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, amusement flickering in his voice as he picked it up to inspect.

You nodded, still too stunned to fully engage, your mind elsewhere. “Yeah. It’s… it’s just a little joke,” you managed, though the words felt hollow in the moment.

Gideon smiled knowingly, his eyes shifting between you and Hotch. “Thesis, antithesis, and synthesis,” he mused, almost as if he were speaking to himself but loud enough for you to hear. “Funny how life always seems to come back to that, doesn’t it?”

The words hung heavy in the air, and as you sat there, watching Hotch interact with Haley, you couldn’t help but feel the truth in them. Life was messy, a constant push and pull of opposing forces, and you were caught in the middle of it, trying to make sense of what it all meant.

[sweet-pea-channie]

Shadows of the Exile - Part 9

Azriel x female!reader

Summary: It is Solstice, and Azriel has prepared a special gift for Y/N. The atmosphere is filled with warmth and anticipation as the celebrations unfold. However, beneath the festive mood, emotions run deep—unspoken words, lingering glances, and a tension that neither Azriel nor Y/N can ignore. As the night progresses, the gift he presents is more than just an object; it carries meaning, feelings that he has long kept hidden

Warnings: Emotional tension, slow burn, yearning, angst, fluff, soft!Az, comfort

Word count: 5.4k

series masterlist

The last rays of sunlight bathed the House of Wind in golden light as Y/N stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the delicate embroidery on her dress. The deep midnight blue fabric clung to her skin, a gift from Mor, who had given it to her a few days ago. Her mother sat on the edge of the bed, observing her with a gentle smile.

Her mother and her brother, Kieran, had been in Velaris for a week—for the first time. And since the Town House didn’t have enough space, they had spent this time together in the House of Wind. It had been an unfamiliar but beautiful experience, showing them Velaris and rediscovering the city through their eyes.

"You look beautiful, my daughter," her mother said, standing up to weave Y/N’s hair into an intricate braid. "And you seem... excited."

Y/N returned her smile in the mirror, but inside, a storm was raging. She was excited—and she knew exactly why. Azriel. They had grown closer over the past months, leaving unspoken words between them, words that danced in the air like sparks.

"It’s Solstice," Y/N steered the conversation toward a safer topic. "One of my favorite nights of the year. The traditions are so beautiful—the shared meals, celebrating with friends and family, the gifts. And of course, flying through the night with strings of lights around our necks." She chuckled at the memory of last Solstice. "Cassian and Feyre placed a bet last year on who could stay in the air the longest while pouring ‘their’ Solstice whiskey into the sky. It ended with Rhysand barely managing to catch Feyre before she crashed into a snowbank."

Her mother laughed softly, running a gentle hand over her shoulder. "And what did you get for your friends?"

Y/N turned to her mother and smiled. "For Mor, a new pair of boots, handcrafted from Illyrian leather—she swears she’ll never give up her old ones, but I think that’ll change once she tries these on. For Cassian, a book of legends about the great Illyrian warriors—even if he won’t admit it, he loves those stories. And for Amren..." Y/N grinned. "A small jewelry box filled with fine gemstones from the Dawn Court. Maybe I can bribe her into finally teaching me how she controls her magic."

"And Azriel?" her mother asked quietly.

Y/N’s heart beat faster. She had spent a long time thinking about what to get him. It shouldn’t mean too much, but also not too little. Something personal. "A new pair of gloves made from the finest shadow silk," she finally said. "I enchanted them myself to retain warmth. I hope he likes them."

Her mother nodded knowingly. "I think he will love them. And perhaps, tonight, you should give him the greatest gift—honesty."

Y/N was about to respond when she felt it. The shadows. Quiet, whispering, barely noticeable—but there—right outside her door. She was certain it was Azriel. Her mother noticed it too and grinned knowingly. She had observed all week that something remained unspoken between her daughter and the spy. That they were both too cautious to take the first step. So she simply shook her head with a smirk as Y/N hurried to the door, nearly tripping over her dress in the process.

She yanked it open—and there he was.

For a moment, Azriel looked as if he had just regained his composure. But he hadn’t. Not truly. He had only meant to check on her, to ensure she was well before the evening’s celebrations. But now, standing before her, he was utterly, hopelessly transfixed.

The dress was stunning—there was no doubt about that. Mor had excellent taste. But it wasn’t just the deep blue fabric that held his attention, nor the intricate embroidery that seemed to shimmer with the faintest starlight. It was her. The way the material clung to her curves, the way her skin glowed under the fading light. The way her eyes searched his, wide and uncertain, as if she wasn’t sure what he was thinking.

If only she knew.

Azriel’s breath caught, and his shadows curled around his shoulders, shifting restlessly, mirroring the chaos within him. He had always thought she was beautiful, but tonight... tonight she was something else entirely. A vision. A temptation.

His fingers twitched at his sides, aching to touch her, to brush away the strands of hair that had escaped her braid. He forced himself to stay still.

Y/N could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. Did he feel it too? This pull between them, these unspoken words tangled in the air?

Azriel cleared his throat softly and stepped closer. "I haven’t seen you in two days," he said gently, his voice a dark, familiar timbre. "And I wanted to ask if you might spare some time for me tonight."

Y/N blinked. "Time for you?" she repeated, confused. But when she saw the small twitch at the corner of his lips, the way his shadows curled softly around him, she finally nodded. "Yes… of course."

Azriel seemed pleased, but then his gaze drifted over her shoulder. Only now did she realize that her mother was still in the room. He gave her a respectful nod. "I hope your stay in Velaris has been pleasant."

Her mother merely smirked and was about to reply when another figure suddenly approached.

"Oh, there you are." Kieran stepped to the door, arms crossed. "Is everyone ready for dinner?"

Azriel let his gaze flick from Kieran back to Y/N before nodding. "Yes. Let’s go."

Y/N took a deep breath before joining him. Something told her that this evening would be more than just an ordinary celebration.

As Y/N stepped out of the room with her family, the hallway was already filled with voices. Mor stood with Elain and Lucien, laughing as they waited for the others. Elain looked at ease, almost happy, while Lucien leaned against the wall with the elegance of a High Fae, his amber eyes scanning the arrivals attentively.

Azriel remained by her side, his wings rustling slightly as they walked. He didn’t say anything, but she could feel it—the way his presence lingered close, the way his shadows brushed against her own. And when their hands accidentally touched, when his fingers grazed hers for the briefest moment, she knew.

This night would change everything.

When Lucien’s gaze landed on Y/N, his eyes widened briefly before he gave her a warm smile. "By the gods, is that really Y/N from the Dawn Court?" He opened his arms, and without hesitation, Y/N stepped into them, letting him pull her into a tight embrace.

"Lucien! It’s been ages!" She laughed as she pulled back to take him in. "I never thought I’d see you in Velaris. And for Solstice, no less?"

Lucien grinned and shrugged lightly. "Well, Elain convinced me that it was time." His gaze flicked briefly to Elain, who smiled shyly, then back to Y/N. "But what about you? I hear you’ve found your place in the Night Court."

Before Y/N could answer, Kieran stepped forward and extended a hand to Lucien. "Who would’ve thought we’d see you again?"

Lucien studied him briefly before shaking his hand with a polite nod. "Kieran, as charming as ever."

Azriel, who had remained silent beside Y/N, shifted almost imperceptibly, his shadows drawing closer around him. The conversation between Y/N and Lucien stretched longer than he would have liked—familiar, almost playful. And when Lucien, with a charming smile, said, "If you ever need a change of scenery, the Day Court has its own appeal," that was enough for Azriel.

His gaze narrowed slightly as he watched Lucien’s amber eyes flick over Y/N’s dress, her hair—lingering just a second too long for it to be accidental. Azriel’s jaw tightened, his wings shifting ever so slightly—a telltale sign of his displeasure.

He cleared his throat and stepped closer to Y/N. "If you’re finished, perhaps we can go?" His voice was calm, but Y/N recognized the possessive undertone.

She blinked in surprise before shaking her head in amusement. "Of course, Spymaster. I didn’t realize we were in such a hurry."

Lucien chuckled as Azriel walked past him with a curt glance. "Well, it seems you have someone here who is very intent on making sure you don’t get lost."

Y/N couldn’t suppress a smirk as she followed Azriel. His wings twitched slightly, and even though he said nothing, she knew he had heard every second of that conversation. And he hadn’t liked it one bit.

The food was served, and the conversation shifted to stories from the Dawn Court. Y/N’s mother, full of pride, began recounting anecdotes from Y/N and Kieran’s childhood.

“Oh, you should have seen her as a child,” she began with a smile. “Y/N was an absolute troublemaker. I still remember when she convinced Kieran to pour paint all over a statue of the High Lord – as an ‘artistic enhancement.’”

Y/N groaned and let her head sink against the backrest of her chair. “Mother, please don’t.”

“Oh, yes! And then there was that one summer when she insisted that she would one day become both a warrior and a healer. I think she swung a wooden sword around for days – until she stabbed herself in the leg with it.”

Amren snorted in amusement, while Cassian laughed loudly. “Sounds like we missed out on a great talent for the Illyrian army.”

“Or a danger to herself,” Nesta muttered dryly.

Azriel had leaned back during the stories, an amused smirk playing on his lips. Every now and then, his dark eyes flickered to Y/N, who was sinking deeper and deeper into her seat.

“I love these stories,” he finally said with a distinct grin.

Y/N shot him a narrow-eyed look. “You don’t have to grin like that.”

“Oh, but I do,” he replied calmly. “Oh, I definitely do.”

His voice had that soft, dark tone that always sent a shiver down her spine. And she knew he would remember every single one of these stories – and most definitely use them to tease her in the future.

Y/N sighed and took a large sip from her glass. “I should never have introduced you all to my family.”

Kieran grinned and leaned back. “Too late.”

Then, something flickered in Kieran’s eyes – mischief – as he turned to the table, seemingly casual. “But you know what’s really a story worth telling? Y/N’s first great love.”

Y/N almost choked on her wine. “Kieran!”

Cassian, immediately sensing an opportunity to test Azriel, leaned forward with interest. “Oh, this sounds good. Tell us more, Kieran.”

Kieran pretended to think. “Oh, she was quite young, but so in love. A healer apprentice from our town. He always brought her flowers, and she thought he was the most romantic fae in the world.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched slightly, but he said nothing, simply watching Kieran with a calm gaze.

“And? What happened to him?” Cassian asked with a broad grin.

Kieran shrugged. “Oh, she dumped him eventually when she realized he had no backbone. But until then, she was completely smitten.”

Cassian roared with laughter. “No backbone, huh? Sounds like you already had high standards back then, Y/N.”

Y/N shot her brother a venomous glare. “I really hate you right now.”

Azriel still said nothing, but his gaze remained fixed on Y/N – attentive, calm, with an expression only she could decipher. She couldn’t decide whether it was amusement or something entirely different.

Kieran grinned widely, satisfied that he had managed to push Azriel just a little bit. But Cassian, who could sense the tension exactly, only shook his head with a grin and whispered to Azriel, who was sitting beside him, “Honestly, Az, at some point, you need to open your mouth.”

Azriel merely raised an eyebrow, took a sip of his wine – and said nothing.

Y/N felt her heart beat just a little faster.

Later, as the evening progressed and the conversations around them grew more lively, Y/N, Mor, Nesta, and her brother Kieran sat a little off in a cozy corner on one of the many balconies. Comfortable chairs were arranged around a low table, and another glass of wine was pressed into Y/N’s hand as she leaned back and watched the soft flickering of the candles.

Mor, always the curious one, stared at Y/N with a mischievous grin that made Y/N almost uneasy. “Okay, now tell me, Y/N. What happened between you and Lucien?”

Y/N, who had just been focused on her glass, tried to react as inconspicuously as possible. “I don't know what you mean.” Her voice was too calm as she brushed off the question.

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Mor pressed further, leaning in a little closer. “The way he was looking at you…” She grinned even wider. “It was so obvious!”

Kieran, sitting next to Y/N with a glass of wine in his hand, couldn’t help but smile. He had seen everything that had happened between Y/N and Lucien, but he knew it was an entertaining topic for the evening now. So he just kept sipping his wine and said nothing while Mor and Nesta leaned in toward Y/N, eagerly waiting for her to spill something.

Nesta, noticing Y/N’s discomfort, chimed in with a grin. “You know, we’re not letting this go until you tell us. You owe us this much, Y/N.”

Y/N groaned and shook her head, trying to defend herself. “It was nothing, really,” she murmured, but her cheeks had already taken on a slight shade of red, betraying her words.

“Oh, come on, you can’t just leave us hanging!” Mor laughed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Tell us everything.”

The two women, relentless in their teasing, kept pressing Y/N further. She knew there was no point in resisting any longer. Finally, she let out a deep sigh and leaned back.

“Okay, fine,” she finally began, rolling her eyes slightly but knowing she could no longer escape. “Lucien and I may have slept together a few times.”

Mor stared at her with wide eyes as if she couldn’t believe what she had just heard. “Wait, WHAT?” Mor was absolutely shocked. She hadn’t even had the slightest suspicion that something like that had happened between them. “You and Lucien?”

Nesta burst into laughter and clapped her hands in the air. “Oh my gods! You kept this a secret from us, Y/N! I never thought you’d keep it hidden for so long.”

“It wasn’t planned,” Y/N defended herself, crossing her arms. “We just grew closer when I often went to the Spring Court to collect herbs. I got to know Lucien there, and… that’s just how it happened.”

Kieran chuckled softly. “Of course, she didn’t tell me. But I figured it out. Didn’t he visit you in Dawn that one time?” he said teasingly, taking another sip from his glass.

“Oh, I’m really shocked,” Mor said, but her eyes sparkled with amusement. “I mean, who would have thought that Lucien…”

“Yeah, me neither,” Y/N quickly interrupted her. “But it just happened. And after that, we… well, we saw each other every now and then. But that was it.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Nesta said, still laughing. “But now you have to tell us… how was it? What was the best part?”

Y/N stared at her in horror. “Nesta! What do you mean?!”

“Come on, we need the juicy details!” Mor teased further.

“No, I’m not telling you that,” Y/N said, crossing her arms, her cheeks still flushed, but she couldn’t hide a crooked smile. “Let’s just say it was… nice. That’s all you’re getting from me.”

Kieran, still grinning, set his glass down and stretched lazily. “You know, I actually caught Lucien sneaking out of the clinic once,” he said, his voice carrying just enough drama to pique everyone's interest.

Y/N groaned and covered her face with her hands. “Oh no. Kieran, don’t.”

Nesta and Mor immediately perked up. “Oh, this is going to be good,” Mor said eagerly, leaning forward. “Tell us everything.”

Kieran smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “It was late—past midnight, I think. I was walking by the clinic, and I heard the door creak open. Thought it was a thief at first.” He paused for effect, watching their reactions. “So, of course, I went to check. And who do I see sneaking out, looking suspicious as hell?”

“Lucien?” Nesta guessed, grinning.

Kieran nodded. “Lucien. His hair was a mess, his shirt was buttoned all wrong, and he looked like he’d just been caught committing a crime.”

Mor let out a laugh, covering her mouth. “Oh my gods.”

“Oh, and the best part?” Kieran continued, eyes gleaming. “He tried to pretend he was just ‘checking on Y/N.’ Said she had been working late and he wanted to make sure she was okay.”

Nesta burst into laughter. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Y/N, who had been sinking deeper into her seat, groaned. “I hate you all.”

“Oh, don’t worry, sister,” Kieran teased, giving her a playful nudge. “We only laugh because we love you.”

Mor wiped a tear from her eye, still laughing. “I need more wine. This is the best story I’ve heard all night.”

The atmosphere was light, the conversation among the women a lively mix of curious questions and suggestive remarks. With each sip of wine, their words grew bolder, their laughter louder. But just as Y/N thought the worst of the teasing had passed, Mor’s eyes gleamed with renewed mischief.

“Alright, Y/N,” Mor began, a wicked grin stretching across her face. “I still want to know… how was he?”

Kieran, who had been nursing his drink in peace, groaned dramatically and leaned back in his chair. “Again, can we not do this? The last thing I want to hear about is that red head trying to impress my sister in bed.” He shuddered for emphasis, earning a round of laughter.

“Oh, come on, Kieran, it’s all in good fun,” Nesta teased, nudging him with her elbow. “But it’s cute how you’re the one so desperate to protect Y/N’s secrets.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “I hope none of you actually think I’m going to answer that.”

Mor leaned in closer, her expression triumphant. “Oh, we know you won’t. But that’s not going to stop us from getting it out of you one way or another.”

Nesta smirked, her gaze flicking to Mor knowingly. “And if you don’t tell us,” she purred, “we could always have a little chat with a certain someone. Maybe let slip how you’ve been having the wildest fantasies about him.”

Y/N’s stomach flipped, her face heating instantly. “You wouldn’t,” she hissed.

Mor’s delighted cackle said otherwise. “Oh you know we’ll do anything to reveal your dirty little secrets.”

Azriel who just wanted to join the small group, heard the teasing tone in Mor’s voice, but instead of making his presence known immediately, he had remained in the shadows of one of the pillars. His shadows had warned him that a heated discussion was underway—and when he heard Mor’s amused voice, he knew it was about Y/N.

For a moment, Y/N debated putting up more of a fight—but she knew them too well. They wouldn’t let this go. So with a dramatic sigh, she leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice as if sharing a scandalous secret.

“I just hope Elain likes it vanilla,” she murmured, lips curling into a smirk. “Because that’s all he can do.”

Mor gasped, Nesta nearly choked on her drink, and Kieran groaned so loudly that it only made them laugh harder.

Y/N clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide as she registered what she had just admitted.

“Oh my gods,” Mor wheezed, wiping away a tear. “I was not ready for that.”

Y/N shook her head, laughing despite herself. This was exactly why she should never have let them get started on this conversation. And something told her this wouldn’t be the last time they used it against her.

"Who would have thought? Our quiet little healer likes it rougher in bed."

Azriel tensed involuntarily. His jaw clenched as he watched Y/N’s reaction. She raised a hand to cover her heated cheeks and laughed awkwardly while Kieran merely sipped his wine with a grin. Nesta shook her head in amusement as Mor continued to prod gleefully.

Azriel didn't know why this conversation bothered him so much—or maybe he knew exactly why. The thought of Lucien... No. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. But just as Nesta was about to make another comment, he stepped out of the shadows and cleared his throat.

The conversation came to an abrupt halt. Four pairs of eyes turned to him. Y/N blinked in surprise, her lips still slightly parted as if she had been about to respond.

"Sorry, but may I steal Y/N for a moment? I have something to show her."

His voice was calm, almost casual—but his gaze was locked on Y/N. She didn’t know exactly what it was, but something in his posture, in his expression, made her heart race.

Mor and Nesta exchanged a look. Then Mor grinned. "Oh, of course. Wouldn’t be surprised if it’s a gift. Have fun, you two!"

Y/N slowly stood up, almost hesitantly. She was relieved to escape this conversation—but at the same time, Azriel’s sudden presence made her heart stutter.

As they stepped outside, the cool night air hit her. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself and looked up at Azriel. "What’s going on, Azriel? Do you really have something for me?"

A small, mysterious smile played on his lips. "Yes, actually. I haven’t given you your Solstice gift yet."

Before she could reply, he looked at her seriously. "But... there's a condition. I'd like to take you on a flight."

Y/N froze.

Azriel knew her story. Knew the truth about what had been taken from her. He knew that she avoided flying—not because she was afraid, but because every time, it painfully reminded her of what she no longer had.

Her fingers tensed slightly, and she averted her gaze. But then he said softly, "Only if you want to. I’ll hold you."

Y/N slowly lifted her head, searching his gaze. Azriel was never one to pressure—but in this moment, she felt that he wanted her to try.

And maybe she wanted to as well. She took a deep breath, then nodded. "Okay."

Azriel stepped closer, took her hand, and gently pulled her toward him. When he lifted her into his arms, Y/N instinctively held her breath.

Then, with a powerful beat of his wings, he pushed off the ground.

The wind tugged at her hair, and for a moment, Y/N instinctively tensed, gripping him tighter. But Azriel’s hold was steady, his arms wrapped securely around her.

"I've got you," he murmured close to her ear, his voice a dark reassurance amidst the roaring wind.

And slowly—very slowly—Y/N began to relax.

The sky above Velaris stretched endlessly before her, the city lights shimmering like a thousand tiny stars below them. She had forgotten what this felt like. The freedom, the silence of the night, the tingling in her stomach.

But the best part wasn’t the flight itself—it was Azriel.

His warmth, the way he held her, as if she were the most precious thing in the world. She dared to look up at him, only to find that he was already watching her.

Their eyes met.

Something flickered in Azriel’s gaze—something that made Y/N’s breath hitch.

But then he turned his head back forward, focusing on their destination. They landed softly in front of the Town House, and Y/N felt the cold earth beneath her feet as Azriel slowly set her down.

She didn’t know what to say.

But Azriel just smiled slightly. "Did you like it?"

Y/N swallowed, feeling her cheeks grow warm. "Yes," she whispered. "It was... beautiful."

Azriel watched her for another moment, then nodded in satisfaction. "Come on. I still have something for you."

She followed him into the house, still feeling as though she were floating—not because of the flight, but because of something else entirely.

He led her through the house, but something was different. He kept positioning himself in a way that prevented her from seeing ahead, which only piqued Y/N’s curiosity further.

Y/N couldn’t contain her curiosity. The moment Azriel took her hand and guided her into the Town House, she began questioning him.

"Where are we going?"

Azriel sighed, shaking his head slightly, amusement glinting in his dark eyes. "You’ll see."

"But what is it?"

He shot her a meaningful look but ignored her repeated question, leading her further into the house.

"Is it something big?"

"Y/N."

"Something small?"

Azriel rolled his eyes. "Cauldron, you’re worse than Cassian."

"Oh, that’s rude." She laughed, unable to hide her excitement. "But come on, give me at least a little hint."

"No."

"You’re impossible."

He only grinned as he led her through the rooms, always making sure to block her view. Every time she tried to sneak a glance past him, he was faster—distracting her or positioning himself so his wings completely obscured her sight.

Finally, at the end of a long hallway, they stopped in front of a door leading out to the garden. Azriel turned to her, his gaze shimmering in the soft night light.

"Look," he said with a mysterious smile.

He stretched out his arms as if to block her view for just a moment longer, and when Y/N tried to step to the side, he playfully unfurled his black wings, completely shielding her sight.

"Azriel," she whispered in astonishment, laughing softly. "What is this?"

She couldn't help but admire him in his elegant outfit, his majestic wings casting shadows in the dim light. It was a captivating sight. Azriel stood before her, in a moment so quiet that she simply couldn’t look away.

"I spent the last week building something for you," he finally said, his voice as calm and serious as ever, but with a hint of pride. "You’ll see in a second."

With a swift motion, he stepped aside, and when Y/N finally saw what had been hidden behind him, her breath caught.

Before her stood a beautiful greenhouse, its doors wide open, lights twinkling in the dusk as if illuminating the night itself.

"I built it for you," Azriel said, his voice full of meaning.

Y/N could hardly believe her eyes. "You built this for me?"

Without hesitation, she ran toward him, throwing herself into his arms. It was a spontaneous embrace, as if she wanted to pour all the words she couldn’t say into this gesture. She held onto him as tightly as she could, and for a moment, it felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be.

Azriel looked surprised for the briefest of moments, but then he slowly lifted his arms to return the embrace—yet before he could fully hold her, she had already pulled away.

Almost breathless, she spun around and ran toward the greenhouse.

"This is incredible, I can't believe this!" she exclaimed as she stepped through the open doors.

Azriel followed her with a small smile, leaning against the doorframe. "I take that as a sign that you like it?"

Y/N turned to him, her eyes shining. "Azriel, I love it."

He held her gaze for a moment—and in that moment, he knew that something had changed that night. Something between them. Something he could no longer ignore.

Azriel opened his mouth to say something—to finally speak the words that had been burning on his tongue for weeks, no, for months.

But before he could even begin, Y/N turned around with bright eyes and ran deeper into the greenhouse.

He took a deep breath, let his hands fall back to his sides, and watched her.

How she moved through the space with excitement, her fingers gently brushing the wooden frames of the garden beds. How she was already in her element, even though she hadn’t planted a single thing yet.

"This is amazing," she murmured, more to herself than to him. Then, she turned with a beaming smile. "I can’t wait to plant everything! I think I’ll put medicinal herbs up front so I can reach them quickly. And over there—" she pointed to a corner, "I could grow a small selection of flowers. Not just for potions, but just because—because it would be beautiful, wouldn’t it?"

Azriel leaned against the doorframe, his heart tightening in a way he couldn’t control.

"And here," she continued, still wandering through the greenhouse, "I could plant some of the rarer species. The ones that need more care. I’ll probably need some trellises for climbing plants—oh, and a small worktable would be good, maybe here?"

She didn’t even turn to look at him, too lost in her thoughts.

Azriel had never seen her this happy.

Then she reached a raised garden bed at the far end of the greenhouse. Her steps slowed as she crouched down, running her fingertips through the dark soil. There was magic woven into it, and she could feel a warmth here that wasn’t present anywhere else in the greenhouse.

Her brows furrowed slightly.

"Azriel…" she began cautiously. "Is this…?"

He stepped closer, his voice quiet but certain.

"Yes," he said. "I also made sure to bring soil from the Spring Court, so all the herbs and flowers can grow in here."

Y/N inhaled sharply. Her eyes sparkled in the gentle lantern light, and for a moment, she seemed almost speechless.

Azriel could see how much this meant to her. He could feel it.

He wanted to reach out, to touch her—her cheek, her hand, something. But he held himself back.

And with each passing heartbeat, he realized this was not the right moment to tell her what she meant to him.

She was happy. She was so completely immersed in this moment that he didn’t want to interrupt her.

So instead, he simply watched her.

Because for him, there was nothing more beautiful than seeing Y/N’s eyes alight with joy.

Y/N ran her fingers along the edge of one of the garden beds, feeling the fine earth between her fingertips, and shook her head ever so slightly.

"I can’t believe it," she murmured, her voice barely louder than the soft rustling of leaves in the faint evening breeze.

She turned in a slow circle, her eyes sweeping over every corner of the greenhouse. Her mind was racing, ideas swirling, and before she knew it, words were spilling from her lips.

"I could put my best pots here…" she gestured toward a free space near the door. "The heavy terracotta ones, so they don’t shift. And there—" her hand flew to a shelf along the wall. "That’s where I could keep my glass bottles with extracts and dried flowers. Maybe I could even fit a small alchemy set…"

She took a few more steps, looking up as the soft moonlight filtered through the glass ceiling.

A quiet, reverent smile touched her lips.

"Look," she whispered. "The moonlight falls in just the right way here. I won’t even need many faelight lanterns at night. It’s… perfect."

Azriel still stood at the entrance, arms crossed as he leaned against the frame, saying nothing.

He just watched her.

How she moved through the space with such excitement, how she noticed details he hadn’t even thought of. How she didn’t just see this as a gift—but as something that was truly hers.

He saw the way her lips moved softly as she kept planning, half-speaking, more to herself than to him. She barely noticed him anymore, too lost in her thoughts.

Azriel could have watched her like this forever.

He knew her as a healer, as a warrior in her own way. But now, he saw her in a kind of happiness that didn’t stem from battle or duty—but from pure, unrestrained joy.

And in that moment, he knew:

This was the best gift he could have ever given her.

Taglist: @princesssunderworld@tele86@quiet-because-it-is-a-secret@rose-girls-world@iluvyewman-blog@gluecksbaerchieee@lreadsstuff

[holybibly]

So, bunnies, shall we talk? I'll start by saying that this post is going to be long.

So, here I am: Valerie, Mommy, Queen, Cult Leader, Dominatrix, Crazy, Bitch, Slut and many other nice nicknames.

Since the beginning of the blog I've always told you that you can call me whatever you want, I've never asked to be called mummy or any other nickname, if you've been following my blog for a long time you know that. I've talked about it in DMs, in replies to inbox messages and in posts. But nobody seems to care.

So let's clear things up:

A dominatrix is a woman who takes the dominant role in BDSM activities. The practice of BDSM is called female dominance or femdom. A dominatrix can be of any sexual orientation, but this does not necessarily limit the gender of her submissive partners. Dominatrixes are commonly known to inflict physical pain on their submissive subjects, but this is not always the case.

Cult Leader - Someone who leads a large group of followers with the intention of gaining financial advantage and brainwashing the followers into blindly accepting that their views are the only correct ones and anyone who disagrees is evil and must be banished.

Both of these terms have absolutely nothing to do with me and are offensive to me. I always turn things like this into a joke, trying to ignore something so insignificant, but this nonsense continues to spread.

Come on, if I were a dominatrix or a cult leader, would I be wasting my time writing fanfics? Are you serious? So stop throwing around terms you do not understand.

2. I have told you more than once or twice, if I close this blog, nothing will change in my life. Look, I have a well-paid, loved job, I am the princess of the office and an excellent manager for working with VIP clients. I travel the world all the time, I never deny myself anything, I have wonderful friends, two adorable cats and a huge collection of perfumes, and after all that, after an eight-hour day at work, cooking dinner, cleaning the house, doing yoga and pilates and other things, I come here and share my thoughts and stories with you. Do you think I will lose something if I stop? I would like to remind you that all the writers on the platform share their stories completely free of charge, we do it for entertainment and when you click the "read more" button you are shifting all responsibility to yourself. Based on logic and hateful nitpicking of certain words, I would like to point out that every author should mark the entire fanfic as one continuous trigger, because maybe someone's trigger word is "pink" or "pretty". My point here is that there are as many triggers/quirks/personal preferences/anxieties and sensitivities as there are people, and the one person you put all the responsibility on for knowingly reading dark or niche sexual content cannot be the scapegoat for your choices.

3. I have warned everyone several times about the content of my blog and the responsibility for the choices you make when reading my stories. These are some of the many posts 1. 2. 3.

But still you come here, insult me, humiliate me, advise me to see a psychotherapist, call my stories disgusting and this is just a small part of what I heard yesterday after someone threw a tantrum because I did not respond to DMs?

Speaking of which, I don't have to answer DMs if I don't want to, and I don't have to be nice and polite to everyone if I'm treated with contempt. And you won't scare me with phrases like "if you don't answer my messages, it won't be good". Can I personally choose whether or not to reply to me? Or are you prepared to show me an article in the constitution that obliges me to answer every message?

Have you ever considered that I have a life outside the blog? Or, according to the logic of the haters, I spend all day on Tumblr just waiting to attack, insult, sling mud or be duplicitous? I want to annoy you, I spend the day at the office and then go home to eat my hot dinner and watch TV series. I'm boring as hell.

4. I have said my age hundreds of times and I will say it again and again. Let's be serious, without hard evidence like the one I provided yesterday (I almost showed you my entire passport), the number in your bio means nothing. I already said this in one of my posts, give me a guarantee that you are not lying about your age. For my part, as an author, I point out that my content is not intended for minors, but even here it is my fault that they somehow still read it.

Let's blame Tumblr for not checking the authenticity of the information, or blame the parents who don't use "parental controls for this kind of content". Don't blame the content creators when the system of society itself can't control this issue.

5. I always give my bunnies a lot of freedom: from choosing an MC and a plot to choosing kinks and perversions. We even had a poll about what kind of smut they liked more: "hard, graphic and darker" or "vanilla, fluffy and sweet". Based on my content, which of the two options do you think won?

Everything on my blog is designed to make everyone feel safe about their sexual preferences, various intimate practices and other things related to sex and desire.

I also always encourage you to communicate and express your thoughts, and that is literally in every post I make. Everyone in our pink bunny space bears some responsibility for what happens in one way or another. Not directly, but nominally, because the connection between author and reader determines what content we publish, what style we write in, and how we talk to our followers.

I will express more of my thoughts another time, but to sum it up, what happened yesterday was absolutely childish, immature and at times hateful, aggressive and humiliating. This is called cyberbullying and, as I said, you can be held seriously accountable for it.

This is not just about me, I will defend my friends, my followers and other writers who face such injustice towards them and their content.

All the aggression and hateful, false phrases and insults that I heard yesterday have in fact subjected me to emotional abuse, and the saddest thing is that other users are spreading this information without even understanding what is happening. And judging by the cheerful emoticons and cheeky comments of the author of the post, he is having the time of his life and enjoying the fact that he has insulted me.

That's all for now.

[aishangotome]

[Gilbert] Borderline Touching: You won't be able to stop once you start, you know? - Part 1

Translated by request :)

♡———♡

---One ordinary day.

The grand conference hall of Obsidian Castle was, as always, enveloped in a heavy, oppressive atmosphere.

(It's still relatively 'mild' today, but the sheer pressure is overwhelming...)

Military personnel, crucial to the nation's core, both young and old, had gathered in the room, engaged in a serious and ongoing discussion for the reformation of the nation of Obsidian.

Prince Gilbert occasionally brings me to these meetings, but every time I see the rows of assembled military officers, I find myself involuntarily straightening my posture.

Gilbert: I believe I've said this repeatedly, but when problems arise, it's not enough to simply report them. You must also consider potential solutions.

Gilbert: Obsidian has no use for incompetents who can't think for themselves. Agreed?

Military personnel: Yes, sir.

Gilbert: Then, dismissed. Good work.

With those concise words, Gilbert exited the conference room.

I bowed to those remaining in the room before following him.

-

Gilbert: How was it? Today's meeting.

He turned and asked me as we walked a short distance down the corridor.

Emma: I found it very informative. Thank you for allowing me to attend.

Gilbert: Informative in what way, specifically?

Emma: It seemed that today, more people presented potential solutions along with their problem reports...

Emma: In particular, I was very impressed by those who prepared multiple plans.

Emma: If unforeseen circumstances require a change of course, having several options allows for a rapid response.

Gilbert: If you say so, Little Rabbit, then perhaps I'll reconsider the personnel cuts. They should be thanking you, you know.

(Oh...)

"Personnel cuts"—

in Obsidian, those words often carry heavy implications.

Gilbert: Haha, just a joke. Well...as you say, things have improved somewhat compared to before. Just somewhat.

Gilbert smiled knowingly and entwined his fingers with mine.

The sensation brought back vivid memories of last night’s passionate embrace, and my heart skipped a beat.

(What am I thinking about at a time like this...)

Recalling the solemn atmosphere of the conference room, I was overcome with guilt.

Yet, before I knew it, I had drawn Gilbert's fingers closer, gripping his hand tightly.

Gilbert: Haha, Little Rabbit, you're quite clingy, aren't you?

As I felt my cheeks flush, I heard the sound of the door opening behind us and the footsteps of the military personnel—

(....?)

When I turned to look, I caught a fleeting, but definite, sense of being watched.

(Did someone from the military just look at us?)

(Perhaps it was just my imagination.)

Some time later, when I passed Prince Gilbert in the hallway between his tasks, I saw the reflection of a military officer watching us in the window.

(It’s definitely not my imagination.)

(What is that gaze? It feels fearful, or perhaps worried… )

Gilbert: Is something the matter?

Raising my head in a start, I found a refreshing smile directed towards me.

Prince Gilbert and I had, without realizing it, closed the distance between us to the point where our bodies were almost touching.

(Perhaps I've been getting too close to Prince Gilbert in public lately...)

(From the perspective of the strictly disciplined military personnel,)

(My casually touching Prince Gilbert might appear frivolous.)

(...No, the fact is, I am frivolous.)

(Frivolous—)

For a moment, something indescribable stirred deep within my chest, but I couldn't quite grasp its nature.

(Regardless, I can't continue like this.)

(To become a woman worthy of Prince Gilbert, I need to be more disciplined.)

Emma: It was nothing. Just a bird flying past the window...

Gilbert: I see.

Prince Gilbert merely offered a thin smile, and didn't pursue the matter further.

-

Later that night, as I sat beside Prince Gilbert on the bed, spending the end of the day alone with him—

Gilbert: Emma, you're really terrible at lying, you know.

Prince Gilbert toyed with my hair, casually uttering those words.

Gilbert: You managed to deceive me just now, but if you keep wearing that expression, it will all be for naught, won't it?

Gilbert: Even the bird you claimed to see outside the window might be sad by now.

Gilbert: After all, I did to give you an excuse...

(He noticed, as I thought.)

(Well, of course he did. There's no way Prince Gilbert wouldn't have noticed.)

(But...)

The moment I were to say, "I'm concerned about the gazes, so I'd like to reduce how often we touch in public," I can easily imagine how Prince Gilbert would react.

Gilbert: You can't bring yourself to say it, can you?

Emma: ....!!

His whisper, timed as if he were reading my mind, made my shoulders jump.

Gilbert: You know if you said that, I'd slaughter everyone in the castle.

Gilbert: But, whether you say it or not, it's clear you're bothered by the gazes...

Gilbert: It's fine. I'll erase them all for you. Especially, if it's for you.

Though Prince Gilbert's voice seemed to be an attempt to draw my words out, it carried a weight that made it impossible to dismiss as a joke or threat.

(There's no choice. I must tell him everything, without holding anything back...)

Emma: It's true I feel the gazes, but it's less about being embarrassed and more about feeling inadequate...

Gilbert: Inadequate?

Emma: Yes. I always love you, Gil, and I want to express that love—

Emma: But every time we touch in public, I feel as if my emotions are becoming too frivolous.

Emma: I worry that my thoughtless actions might undermine the dignified atmosphere you've worked so hard to establish...

Gilbert: ...Is that truly all?

Emma: Huh?

(That's... all, isn't it?)

(Or does Prince Gilbert know something I don't?)

Gilbert: ...Well, never mind. I am kind to you, and only you.

Gilbert: So, you'd like to limit public displays of affection? If you tell me your preferred limit in public, I'll abide by it.

Emma: Really?

While I widened my eyes at his unexpected response, surprise and unease outweighed joy.

His previous question, "Is that truly all?" echoed in my mind like a poison.

Gilbert: I also have been looking to measure some things.

Emma: Measure?

Gilbert: Just how "lenient" I can be with you, you know?

Prince Gilbert's narrowed eyes made me instinctively shrink back.

(Depending on my response, this could become very troublesome...)

(But Prince Gilbert is willing to listen to my selfish request.)

(This might be a good opportunity to voice my opinion honestly.)

Emma: Then... would it be alright if we explore the acceptable limits, starting tomorrow?

Gilbert: Yes, that’s fine.

Prince Gilbert smiled more contentedly than usual, but deep in his eyes, I couldn’t help feeling that some hidden intention lay concealed.

The next day—

I went to see Prince Gilbert during his official duties to deliver some documents. He greeted me with his usual warm smile.

Emma: Here are the documents you requested.

Gilbert: Thank you.

As I handed him the papers, our fingertips lightly brushed.

Gilbert: This?

Emma: Huh?

Gilbert: Is this within the acceptable range of public contact?

.

.

.

Part 2

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[ursemma]

"I'll always love you" pt 3

Pt 1, pt 2, pt 4

Mattheo Riddle × F!reader

Theodore nott × F!reader (ex)

Warning: none

Summary: After going on few dates with Mattheo, you couldn't help but wonder what you two are since you haven't made things offical, what happens when one of your friend invites you to her wedding, and apparantly you've to face your ex with his wife, and you desperately need a date.

Mattheo and I have gone to few dates, fucked and behaved like a couple for few months, but things between us have never been official, and I don't want to ruin what's between us by asking 'what are we?'.

I was laying on my bed wondering what i felt for him, this was far way different than what I had with Theodore.

Theodore and I were..... Something I can't describe in words, not in a good way, we used to fight alot.

We used to fight and never solve things hoping it would go away and we'd be back to normal, it wasn't healthy at all.

We never used to communicate which would lead us to misunderstandings. Something which caused our break-up.

I had butterflies but in a bad way, in a way which would tell you something bad is about to happen.

But Mattheo, him and I are mythic.

We sure fight but they aren't the heated ones, the ones which makes your heartbeat fast and tears flow, the ones which you hate and want to runaway from. Our fights are more like "hey I wanted that icecream!" Or "huh you bet?". We fight like kids, over small things but in a teasing way.

And my inner child feels safe with him. It's like he's healing a part of me.

I was deep in my thoughts, and suddenly my phone rang. I looked over to see the name 'torie!' i smiled at myself before picking up the call, and I heard her voice.

Torie!:

"heyyy babyy"

Me:

Hey Astoria!!

Torie!:

Soo Draco and I, we're getting married!!!

Me:

Congratulations!!

Torie!:

Thankyouu love! I want you to attend the wedding, not only that I want you here for the preparations as well, I'll send you the address and you have to come I won't take no for answer okayyy byeee!!!!

Before I could protest she hung up and sent me the address. I sighed knowingly that Theodore and Daphne would be there, I wasn't affected by their presence at all, not after meeting Mattheo, but the fact that it would be very awkward if I went without a date was eating me up.

I looked at my screen and my finger hovered above the name 'matty~', I sighed and texted him,

Me: Hey Mattheo!

Matty~: Hey what's up??

Me: I need a favour

Matty~: go ahead, I'll be glad to help you out

Me: soo my friend is getting married and Theodore is going to be there so I need a boyfriend, to make sure it won't be awkward.

Matty~: soo...?

Me: would you be my boyfriend?? Like a fake one?? You know just for the preparations and wedding?? Like you're the only person I'm comfortable with soo?? Please please I'll do anything you want just say yes.

Matty~: okay fine. You owe me tho.

Me: yes yes thankyouu. We have to leave for the preparation day after tomorrow, at 5 pm, the wedding is in London, we've to catch a flight.

Matty~: I'll be there ;)

Me: thankyouu ily ;)

Matty~: anything for you, ily too ;)

I sighed while smiling like an idiots, I booked our flights and started to pack my bags and everything necessary.

Me and Mattheo arrived at Draco's Mansion where we all were staying in, only two days were left for the wedding, 1 and half to be exact.

"Y/n/n welcome!!!" Tori greeted me as she engulfed me into a hug.

She pulled away after 10 sec and looked over my shoulder "and whose he?" She asked me into confusion and before I could answer "I'm Mattheo Riddle, her boyfriend, nice to meet you Astoria" he said while sliding a hand on my waist and pulling me closer to him.

I looked at him with a smile on my face and Astoria smirked at me before saying "nice to meet you too Mattheo, your room is upstairs, please make yourself home" we thanked her before going in our room.

I freshened up and I was laying on my bed while Mattheo was taking a bath, so far we didn't saw Theodore at all for which I was thankful for.

A knock on the door disturbed me from reading my book. I went to check who it was and saw a familiar face, "Theodore?" "Y/n" before I could say anything Mattheo came out of bathroom, with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist and interrupted us "darling whose there?" Before standing beside me.

I know this is short and I'm leaving you hanging but I'll post next part before the week ends and trust me it'll be long!!!

The next part would be the last one and it'll be uploaded shortly.

Tags

@hoeforvinniehackerrr @shartnart1

(if you wanna be tagged in next part make sure to comment!!)

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[encyclopediamorbidica]

this is the last i'm gonna say on this subject but i do find it deeply, deeply demoralizing to see transfems especially willfully misinterpreting my point to continue to defend a self admitted pedophile and pedophile enabler in the name of kink. literally all i said was that she has dogshit takes on issues she has no business speaking about and because she's a microceleb suddenly every big brained white woman on this site is prepared to come to me looking for that perfect gotcha moment where i out myself as the nasty transmisogynist who thinks being into "weird sex" (read: vehemently defending white peoples' right to get off to rape, incest, pedophilia, and bestiality) is tantamount to murdering kittens and that i secretly believe all trans women deserve to burn in hell. like i knew when i wrote that post that there would be plenty of people ready to back patricia to their dying breath, but i have never been so sick and tired of seeing someone's posts get spread around this website by people who are completely unaware of the things she constantly says and does.

she is bedfellows with some of the worst pedophiles on this site, knowingly and intentionally, and has surrounded herself with pedophiles for years to "cope" with being groomed and abused. while i deeply feel sorry for patricia for having to live with that kind of trauma, as someone who has survived sexual abuse and grooming myself, i really don't think anything that she's purporting to be "healthy" is backed up by anyone but herself and her inner circle of yes-men. i do not wish her harm, or isolation, or further abuse. i just want people to stop fucking taking her seriously and spreading her bullshit around this site.

she is no one's friend, especially not other trans women who would be rightfully hurt and disgusted by her and the people defending her calling anyone who looks at her sideways a raging transmisogynist when we are literally actively being pedohunted in real life by people who can actually do material harm. i genuinely don't understand how you can positively associate transfemininity with paraphilia and not see how you are handing ammunition to people who walk around waving loaded guns.

[setmeatopthepyre]

Bucktommy and sharing a dessert 🩷

(@ambernotember)

I know I sent you a tidbit of something that was going to be for this prompt fill but I decided to use that for something else so here is something completely different! oops another au. went for strangers on the road from this poll though if I ever end up writing more I may add the other winner too. I've been yelling at @trombonechurchill about my desire to write something medieval-ish ever since I saw this gorgeous artwork by @chimneyz, though also very much based on my own fencing experience and desire to write homoerotic swordfighting. of which there is tragically none in this ficlet. but it's the thought that counts. gonna call this sweetmeats au just in case I decide to return to it

-

sharing a dessert [bucktommy | 620 words]

The young knight has the sleeves of his undershirt rolled up, tendons shifting in strong forearms as he pokes and prods at the coals of the fire, getting them to spread evenly.

“You’re planning to cook?” Tommy inquires, his resolution to only engage in conversation for the sake of acquiring news quickly forgotten. Sure, the man doesn’t appear to be traveling particularly light, but neither has Tommy spotted any fresh game on him that would require preparation.

Blue eyes blink up at him, contrasted by bright splashes of pink high on the man’s cheeks from the fire’s heat. It’s a very pleasing look on him. Tommy decides he won’t notice such things going forward.

He fails at that, too, when the knight smiles at him, cheeks dimpling sweetly.

“Not cook, exactly, but I have some hand pies that taste much better warmed. Would you want one?” With that, he produces a bundle from the satchel behind him and unwraps the waxed cloth, showing Tommy its contents: flaky dough brushed generously with egg wash, shining and golden and crisp despite their time packed away. Not the pies one buys at the riverside market, where the dough is just a necessary vessel for the often questionable filling. These were made with care in a home. They look much, much better than the dried provisions Tommy plans to fill his stomach with, the hard bread that he needs to moisten to be able to eat. And here he’d thought his meal would be a luxury since he had wine to wash it down with tonight.

“A kind offer, but unnecessary,” he wills himself to say. There’s no need to be indebted to this stranger if he can help it.

For his part, the knight just glances up at him a moment, then continues on, undeterred. “I have herbelades, as well as sweet pies with apple, if you rather not eat pork,” he says, tilting the wax cloth so that Tommy can better see. “I, uh, made those myself,” he adds as if embarrassed. “I learned it in my lord’s kitchens so I wouldn’t have to go without.”

“You baked these?” Tommy finds himself asking. It’s a disarmingly charming thought, this knight begging his way into some lord or inn’s kitchen to bake sweet apple pastries to eat on his travels. Tommy wonders, not for the first time, who this man’s patron is, what lord would provide for his knights to spend their free time baking in kitchens instead of inflicting their boredom on the local peasantry.

“I did,” the knight confirms. He doesn’t insist Tommy take one or even repeat the offer, but he places three hand pies on the stones by the fire: one of the herbelades, and two of the apple, the dough yellow with saffron and smelling sweetly of cinnamon and cloves and ginger. The scent makes Tommy’s mouth water, his stomach audibly interested, and the knight grins up at him from his place by the fire. “It won’t be but a moment,” he says knowingly.

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Tommy tries, but he can hear how unconvincing he sounds. He’s always had a weakness for sweets - and for men with even sweeter smiles.

“I insist,” the knight says, and Tommy is unable to argue, is left only to wonder at this strange young knight, traveling alone with satchels laden with pastries that smell like heaven. If Tommy were the kind of man to believe in the fantastical tales the old ladies tell, he would be afraid this man was one of the fair folk come to lure him into the woods with the promise of sweet treats for eternity. Thankfully, he isn’t, and Tommy knows these woods better than anyone.

-

thank you @ambernotember <3

[fanfics4all]

Mistakes Were Made

Request: Yes / No Hi! Is it possible that you could do a sweetpea x reader where he is trying to get out of a deal with Penny and is very stressed and grumpy with everyone for the lack of sleep and takes it out on the reader, who is his girlfriend, on their anniversary and then he tries to sort things out and prepares an anniversary surprise for her and with FP's help he manages to get rid of Penny Anon

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Sweet Pea x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 1108

Warnings: Sweet Pea being a dick 

Y/N: Your Name 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee! 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

Sweet Pea wasn’t himself. At least, that’s why I kept telling myself. The usual cocky, sharp-witted boy I fell for had been replaced with someone cold, distant, and impossibly tense. He barely spoke to me, barely touched me. Even when I reached for his hand, he pulled away… like even that was too much for him to deal with. And I knew why. Penny Peabody. Pea had been trying to cut ties with her for weeks, but the Snake Charmer wasn’t letting him go that easily. Whatever stupid deal he made with her before, she wasn’t about to let him back out without consequences. 

I didn’t know all the details. He refused to tell me, but I saw how his shoulders tensed whenever her name was mentioned. I saw the bags under his eyes, the way his hands trembled from exhaustion when he thought no one was looking. But he refused to let me in. 

And I was sick of it. 

“Sweet Pea, can you just talk to me?” I had barely stepped into his trailer when he let out an exhausted groan, rubbing his temples like I was his biggest problem. 

“Not now, Y/N.” My frustration flared. 

“When, then? Because for the past week, you’ve barely looked at me! You’re always stressed, always pissed off-” 

“Yeah, because I have shit to deal with!” He snapped, eyes flashing. 

“Not everything is about you, Y/N!” The words stung. I took a small step back, heart clenching. 

“I never said it was.” Pea let out a heavy breath, dragging his hands down his face. 

“I don’t have time for this.” My stomach twisted. 

“For me, you mean?” 

He didn’t respond. 

And that hurt more. 

I swallowed the lump in my throat, nodding stiffly. 

“Okay.” I turned for the door, trying not to let the quiver in my voice show. 

“I’ll get out of your way, then.” Sweet Pea sighed heavily, his back already turned to me, like he couldn’t even bear to look. 

“Y/N-” But I was already leaving. 

I didn’t sleep much that night. My mind kept replaying the conversation over and over, twisting his words, making my heart ache all over again. Was I really just in his way? Did he really not have time for me anymore? 

No. 

No, I wasn’t going to let my mind spiral. I knew Sweet Pea. I knew he wasn’t really like this. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. 

So, the next morning, I did what any heartbroken girl would do- throw myself into distraction. I went to Toni’s trailer, letting her ramble about Serpent business while I half-listened. I kept my phone face-down, ignoring the nagging hope that maybe Sweet Pea would text me, call me, anything. 

But he didn’t. 

And that? That hurt the most. 

Tonie must have noticed my lack of enthusiasm because she nudged my arm, raising a brow. 

“Okay, what’s going on with you?” I sighed. 

“It’s Sweet Pea.” Toni didn’t look surprised. 

“Yeah, figured. He’s been an even bigger asshole than usual.” That made me laugh, but it was short-lived. 

“I don’t know what to do, T. He won’t let me in, but I know something’s wrong.” Toni nodded knowingly. 

“It’s Penny, isn’t it?” I blinked. 

“You know?” Toni rolled her eyes. 

“Of course, I know. Fangs and I have been trying to get him to talk to us for weeks, but he’s too damn stubborn.” I huffed. 

“Tell me about it…” 

“He’ll realize what an idiot he’s being and come back to you. You’re the only girl he’s ever loved.” 

“Yeah, well, doesn’t feel like it right now…” I slumped against the couch. 

*Sweet Pea’s POV*

I knew I fucked up. The second the door slammed behind her, I wanted to turn back time and fix it. I wanted to take the words back, pull her into my arms, and tell her what was really going on. But instead, I just stood there, running a hand through my hair, frustration boiling under my skin. I wasn’t mad at her. I was mad at Penny. Mad at myself for ever getting involved with her in the first place. Mad that I couldn’t find a way out without putting myself, or worse, Y/N, in danger. Because Penny was ruthless. And if she found out just how much Y/N meant to me? She’d use it against me in a heartbeat. So, I thought I was doing the right thing… pushing Y/N away, keeping her at a distance so Penny wouldn’t see her as leverage. But now, I wasn’t so sure. Now, I felt like an idiot. 

A week later, it was our one-year anniversary, and I was determined to make it perfect. With FP’s help, I finally cut ties with Penny, for good. It wasn’t easy, she didn’t go down without a fight, but FP made it clear that the Serpents didn’t answer to her anymore. And with the backing of the entire gang, she had no choice but to back off. For the first time in forever, I felt free. And now I could focus on what really mattered, Y/N. 

Later that night there was a knock on my door and I opened it and saw Y/N standing there. I wore a smug smirk and an undeniable sparkle in my eyes. 

“Happy anniversary, baby.” She barely had time to react before I was pulling her inside, and her breath hitched. 

I had candles scattered across the trailer, casting a warm glow. A blanket was spread out on the floor with takeout from Pop’s, her favorite. A small bouquet of flowers sat in the center, and I could practically see her heart melt. 

“Sweet Pea…” She turned to me, speechless. I watched her nervously, rubbing the back of my neck. 

“I, uh… I know these past few months haven’t been easy, and I know I messed up a lot.” Y/N shook her head. 

“You-” But I cut her off, gently taking her hands in mine. 

“Let me finish, okay?” My voice was soft, but firm. 

“I almost lost you last week because I was too damn stubborn to admit I needed you. I’m not making that mistake again.” Tears pricked her eyes and I took a deep breath. 

“I love you… more than I ever thought I could love someone. And I swear, Y/N, I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you know that.” She let out a watery laugh, squeezing my hands. 

“You already do, you idiot.” I grinned, pulling her into my arms. 

“Good.” Then I kissed her. And everything felt right again.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @madammarvellous-blog1 @emo-godess-loves-you @hiya-imthatgirl @mindsetjupiter @averysinclaire @mittelerde1999 @sweetest-peas @rousewriter @camiconfessions-blog @thecaptainsgingersnap @cenyddtheunicorn @jacksxsouthsideserpents @lover2448 @mamacobie13 @staygoldsquatchling02 @wanderlust-and-poetry @hiighdeex3 @ayeitsjaz @skeletalwolfcat @scarrasco1325 @reblogserpent @darkestbeforethedawn16 @fandom-princess-forevermore @will-noble-owns-my-ass @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @madebyleftovermuses @liz-owl

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Searching

Are you guys ready?! We are going continue where we left up last drabble :3 I hope you all are up to date on the story :D @spotaus

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We good? We good :3

*--------------------------*

Dream checks his inventory. He has medicine and a first aid kid. He has the reports from the last few meetings and the news he spread about his mess up.

Just in case that Nightmare doesn’t want to listen he can at least leave the proof he had been working on fixing the mess he made.

Dream rubs his arm as he checks his bag again. Is it enough? He messed up so many things and left his brother alone to deal with all of it for so long-

“Dream?” the voice and a hand on his shoulder shake him out of his thoughts.

Dream looks back and sees Blue looking at him worried “If you aren’t ready I can go by myself first and look around.”

Dream shakes his skull “no no! I want to go! I need to go!”

Blue frowns and speaks softly “Dream. I am not even sure if they are actually there. It is just a lead… I just… I don’t want you to be disappointed if he isn’t there or if you don’t see him.”

Dream blinks but smiles at Blue “I know that. I know there is only a small chance… but I just want to be prepared… What if we do see him and I don’t have any of it with me? And I never find him again? It is just in case.” Of course Dream really hopes he finally gets to meet Nightmare again. It has been a year and  a half and he is going crazy.

Dream hadn’t realised how much comfort he had gotten out of seeing Nightmare each time they fought.

Blue sighs but smiles “Okay. If you are sure.”

Dream feels like a terrible friend and he grabs Blue’s shoulders “Hey. When this is over. You are going to tell me something I can help you with okay?”

Blue blinks and laughs “No need Dream. We are friends.”

Dream nods “Exactly. So I am going to help you with something after all of this! I promise!”

Blue blinks and laughs as he looks to the side with a blush- wait a minute! Blue keeps chuckling nervously “No need! There is nothing that would require help or assistance or anything! Lets focus on your whole thing! Come I have the universe coordinates!” and he manages to duck under Dream’s arms as he messes with his phone. Trying to hide his blush.

Oh. Oh!! Oh Dream is so going to help Blue with his crush! Dream wonders who it could be… Well Dream doubts it will be hard. Blue is one of the best people in the whole multiverse. Anyone would be lucky with his attention.

Dream joins his side and grins knowingly at him. Blue just glares back at him, a blue blush still on his face. Dream giggles and wiggles his eyebrows. Blue gets bluer and looks away “Knock it off Dream.”

Dream giggles and nods “Okay… but just so you know. I don’t think you have to be nervous or worry. Whoever you like will be lucky that you like them.” Blue mutters as he looks away nervously.

Dream nudges their shoulders together before checking the coordinates Blue has pulled up. He grabs his staff and concentrates. The universe ripples and a portal opens.

Dream freezes as he stares at the portal. Feeling nervous all over again.

Blue nudges their shoulders together and grins “Ready? Let’s go.”

Dream smiles and nods “Let’s.”

They step through.

The thing with dimension hopping that most people don’t realise. Dimensions move around.

They rarely move around enough to need completely new coordinates. But unless you know the place well you will not cross-dimension teleport to the same place twice.

Dream and Blue step out on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. They look around but only see fields upon fields of growing crops.

Dream hums “Well… that was to be expected with a Farmtale.”

Blue nods “I am already happy we didn’t show up in the middle of a town or city. That is always a mess. Especially if it isn’t a universe in the know.”

Dream agrees full heartly. He looks around and pulls on his magic.

Blue keeps an eye out as Dream feels the universe out. One of the nice things about being a god. It is rather easy to get a feel for if a universe has been tampered with in anyway.

Normally Dream could also feel when his brother is near but ever since losing his domain Dream doubts he still can.

The edits to this universe are… very limited. It almost seems like the only thing that has been changed is some kind of shielding or camouflaging all around the universe. Dream frowns as he knows this type of work.

Dream puts his hands down as he glares ahead “Error.”

Blue looks up shocked “What?”

Dream glares at the ground as his hands form fists “Error. Error put up a shield.” Technically both Error and Ink call it firewalls but it is the same.

Blue frowns as he joins him “Why would he put one around a Farmtale?”

Dream knows Blue knows as well “Error doesn’t like me.” Which is putting it mildly “And he is close to Nightmare.” Maybe closer than Dream thought. Dream had thought they just worked together and after how Error defended Nightmare and backed up how their jobs worked Dream figured they were at least on friendly terms.

Blue glances around “Well.. that is good right?”

Dream frowns as he looks at his friend.

Blue grins “It means there is something here. Something important that Error is trying to hide. Maybe it is another lead? Or… well… maybe you finally have the right universe?”

Dream feels any irritation and annoyance melt away. Oh stars…

Blue grins and nudges their shoulders together “Best we keep being sneaky about it. Get a feel for the land and how things work. Maybe find the Sans of this place? See if he saw anything noteworthy?”

Dream feels himself relax at the familiar routine “Some good old scouting.”

Blue smiles “indeed. Come! I see a city in the distance! Lets get a feel for everything there and then get searching!” and he starts walking.

Dream smiles and follows his best friend.

They have done this song and dance quite a few times. They walk around. Make some small talk with people. Get a general feel for how things work in the universe to fit in better.

Only once they have established these things they start to search for a way to find this universe ‘main cast’ with the hope that at least one person is in the known about multiverse things.

It is always a gamble if the people in the universe know or don’t know about the bigger multiverse and Dream and Blue generally try not to let this information slip. If they don’t know it can cause trouble.

They had multiple people try and attack other universes when the more aggressive people found out about the option. They were… dealt with. As many others are much better prepared for these possibilities.

Blue returns to his side “I don’t think they know here.”

Dream nods “Which means even more careful information gathering…” At least that would explain why Nightmare picked this spot. Why hide in a place that hates you because of the multiverse? Best start over new and fresh somewhere.

Now with the knowledge of how to act the two quickly decided that they are looking for old friends. Sans and Papyrus. Them being the safest bet for multiple reasons. One, because they are both most likely to know about multiverse stuff. Two, because they are all skeletons people will ask less questions about them searching for each other.

Yes. Dream thinks it is a stupid reason but it is what it is.

The two of them split up and get to work with asking around if anyone knows their friends by any chance. When asked why they don’t know where they are Dream just says that he can’t quite remember the address but knew it was somewhere around here!

It takes a while until they speak to some humans. The humans look thoughtful and mention that they are not sure if the skeletons were named Papyrus and Sans precisely they are very sure they saw skeletons at the farmers market a bit further to the east. A few cities further by a very small farmers town.

Blue happily notes down the address and they waves goodbye before starting their journey.

Blue grins at him “Want to get an actually vehicle or shall we keep walking?”

Dream feels nervous and answers “Walking.” He needs to figure out what he is going to say. Blue nods and the two make their way into the right direction.

It takes about two days of steady walking in which Dream tries to think of what to say and how to say it.

What if he actually sees Nightmare? What does he say to him? How does he make Nightmare hear him out? What if Nightmare is actually willing to hear him out?! How can Dream tell him everything? Without making it sound like he is trying to excuse himself?

What if the gang are actually the ones who meet him first? How does he convince them to let him see his brother?

Or worse.

What if the gang only lives here? What if this is just the place that Cross and Dust settled with their child? What if they don’t know where Nightmare is?

What if there really is no way for Dream to find Nightmare?

Blue shakes him out of his thinking by saying they are there.

The town is small. Very small. Only like one main street with a few shops and a few side streets.

Blue and Dream share a look as they look around. Some people are walking around. Blue and Dream share another look before Blue nods towards the large tavern reading Grillby’s. Blue grins “Probably the best place to start.”

Dream smiles and nods.

They walk together but Dream can’t help but feel… watched. He sneaks a few glances around and can’t help but notice that everyone is watching them with clear suspicion on their faces. They have been met with nerves and curious looks before. But rarely with suspicion. That usually only happened in a fell verse.

Dream shoots Blue a look and mutters “Blue?”

Blue just keeps smiling as he walks straight towards the target “I noticed the same. But I am sure this isn’t a Fell verse… Lets focus on out plan for now.” then he opens the door.

A few people are moving around and talking but as soon as Dream and Blue step in they grow quiet.

An icy silence as Blue just smiles and walks towards Grillby. The fire elemental is preparing some things behind the bar. Another fire elemental looks nervous as they glance between them and Grillby just nudges them towards the back where they disappear into.

Blue gets to the bar and Dream just stays by his side. Blue smiles “Hello! I was hoping you could maybe help us!” and he smiles.

Grillby watches them and shrugs “Don’t know until I know what you want strangers.”

Blue laughs and rubs the back of his neck “I am sorry. I am Blue and this is my friend Dream! We are looking for friends of ours.”

Dream wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been already on edge. The soft mumbles around them stop as soon as Dream’s name is said. Grillby shoots him a considering look and seems to look both of them up and down.

Grillby hums and turns back to his glass “Never heard anyone looking for either of you.”

Blue blinks and smiles “We are old friends of them. Fellow skeletons like us.”

Dream frowns as he feels more and more tension in the air. Fuck he wishes he could still feel emotions. Get an idea for what everyone is feeling and leaning towards.

Grillby hums as he keeps cleaning “Seems rude to just assume any skeletons I may or may not have seen would be the ones you are looking for. Even if they are rare. At least that is what people say.” And he puts some glasses away.

It is like a wall.

Blue nods thoughtfully before smiling “Well,” Blue pauses for a moment as he shoots him a look. Dream isn’t sure if it is smart to mention the others. Mostly because their names are not the friendliest and they don’t want to make it seem like they did something wrong. Dream catches Blue’s eyes and shakes his skull a tiny bit. Blue catches it and smiles back at Grillby “If you happen to see either Sans or Papyrus can you tell them we wish to see them? It has been so long and we would love to catch up.”

Grillby just gives a short nod “If I see anyone named that I will mention it.” and he turns back to his work.

Dream and Blue both quickly leave the building.

They exit the building and share a look.

Blue speaks first “Okay that wasn’t just me right? They all don’t like us at all.”

Dream nods as he glances around “They are very on edge… I wonder why…”

Blue frowns as he glances around “We can check out the stalls and shops?”

Dream thinks before nodding “Let’s. We can then just take a break and try again tomorrow if we need to.”

They walk into the decided direction and check stores and make small talk. Or try to make small talk. People are not willing to reply to them at all. And questions even hinting at a different topic aside from their wares is met with annoyance and dismissal.

Dream smiles at the dog monster before him. She just looks uninterested at them while her friend is outright glaring at them.

Dream frowns “You sure you don’t know any skeletons?”

The dog monster shrugs “Seen a few. But not anyone specific coming to mind.” she looks outright bored.

The other woman, a bunny, huffs “Well are you going to buy anything or waste time we could be spending on other customers!?”

Blue looks around and behind him but no other customers are in line. Dream laughs softly as he rubs his neck “I mean… It seems to be a quiet day at least?”

The dog monster, neither of the ladies had given them their names, shrugs “Can change at any moment.”

Suddenly the bunny sits up straight and nudges her friend “Wait I just spotted my friend! I need to check if he has my dvd still. That okay?”

The dog monster frowns at her but nods “Sure. Just be back before the rush.”

The bunny smiles and rushes off to the side. Dream follows her with his sight but the other monster disappears around a corner.

Blue tilts his skull before grinning at the dog monster “Well… If you by any chance see anyone who fits the description we gave you. Please let us know?”

The dog monster shrugs “Maybe.”

… right. That is about as far as they had gotten with these people.

Dream sighs and nudges Blue “Come Blue. Let’s go. We can check some other people.”

They spend more hours just like that. Talking with people and getting nowhere except unhappy faces and dismissive hand waving.

Dream sighs as he sits on a bench “Are we in the right place?”

Blue nods “According to the people we spoke this is the right town.” He sighs and gives him a half grin “Maybe people are just nervous about strangers? I know back in Snowdin we were always a bit cautious when people suddenly showed up… unless someone we knew vouched for them of course.” Blue looks around the place “This place reminds me of Snowdin…”

Dream frowns as he looks around. Maybe that is it? They are just being cautious. That is it. Dream needs to stop being paranoid. Stop thinking people know or suspect what happened. This is a locked universe and seems to have no contact with others-

Blue suddenly jumps up and rushes off “Hey Sans! Papyrus! Wait up!”

Dream looks up and spots who Blue has spotted. Two skeletons. This was the place! Dream smiles and rushes to follow Blue. Oh things are finally looking up!

*--------------------------*

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[nerdyerror]

Chapter 1

Chpt. 2

   “How could you be so stupid? I will revoke the challenge,” Uther rages, pacing behind Arthur. Arthur seethes slightly, two of his men have died to the mysterious knight, “No.” He turns away from his father, he would cave if forced to look in his eyes.”The Knights’ code must be upheld. That’s what you told me.”

“This is different,” Uther insists, he lays his hand on his son’s shoulder turning Arthur to face him, “You are the Crown Prince. Someone will fight for you.” Arthur pales, he can’t lose another knight, “You want me to prove myself. I cannot do that by being a coward.” Uther opens his mouth to speak, but the door creaks open before he can, Leon pokes his head in.

“Ah, my apologies, Sire, I was not aware you were having a private conversation,” Leon says, backing out and going to close the door. “No, Sir Leon, this is perfect timing,” Uther says, beckoning him in. Leon nods.

“You’ve returned from patrol early?” Uther says; it is more a formality than actual interest. Leon holds out a pile of papers, “Yes, I came to deliver my report.” 

“Yes, yes,” Uther says, “I have another assignment for you.” Leon hesitates, his brow furrowed slightly, his eyes glance between the prince and king, “What is it, my lord?” 

“Arthur has foolishly challenged a foreign knight to a duel. One he is not prepared to face. Leon, you are one of my most skilled knights, would you take his place?” Arthur stares for a moment, it’s true Leon is perhaps the greatest knight of Camelot, skilled, and dedicated. They cannot afford to let this knight kill him, it would be a greater loss to Camelot than Arthur’s own death, at least in Arthur’s opinion. Leon only blinks for a moment, “Who is this opponent?” Arthur’s stomach drops, Leon is accepting or preparing to accept. 

Arthur suddenly wishes to leave the room, but he feels rooted to the floor. He doesn’t listen to Uther’s next words, nor Leon’s response. How can he? Leon is Arthur’s cousin, more than that, his friend. And Leon has always been there, steady and sure as the sunrise, the knight that Arthur admires most, (sometimes even more than his father- but that is a private thought he would not admit,) someone who is loyal and kind and gentle. Leon has always treated Arthur well, allowed him to win duels when he should not have, offered advice, and taught him to wield a blade well. The thought that steady sure Leon could quite possibly die in only a day’s time was- (world ending-) impossible. 

Leon observes his soon-to-be opponent with careful dread, he knows the armor well, he knows the crest upon the shield, he knows what Uther dares not to admit. Tristan DuBois, Leon’s father, dead for nearly twenty years. How he was here was unimportant; no, what was important was that he was unlikely to lose, to be capable of being felled. Leon could not face his father, or whatever was left, a wraith, he suspected. It is amusing perhaps, in that sick twisted way, that Uther has knowingly faced Leon against the remains of his father. Remains that Uther had caused. There was an ache in his chest, an ache he knew all too well. He turned his head, he must prepare, and rest was likely the best thing he could do. 

As Leon walks to his room, his thoughts return to the oppressive feeling in his chest. He knows what it is, hate. Hate is the only word for it, a soft dull thing, like the fading embers of a fire, or an old wound, the cause is distant but the pain is alive and well- after all embers still burn and old wounds can kill. Leon has long since lost the energy for righteous fury; it died with his brother, a decade ago. He sighs stopping, right in front of the heavy wooden door to his room, he has kept this room for a decade, his feet know the way. He allows his hands to trace the lines of the wood, before opening it and going to sit on his bed. 

He looks around, his room is as bare and plain as always. The other knights thought him modest or spartan. Too busy with his duties to decorate his room or to befriend. A more cynical man would realize that Leon’s room was as unadorned as Leon was, a purposeful act. He had done it out of fear, never shown who he was, never shown himself in his rooms, or made close friends of the knights. He regrets it now, with the promise of death awaiting him. Which is funny because he had never feared death. It was the one thing Leon did not fear. He shuts his eyes. 

His old desk only holds the various papers he must work on, a quill, and an even older inkwell. His bed has only the plain sheets provided. All of him is in his closet. There is a knapsack tucked away, next to it an ancient family heirloom sheathed and never to be used. The knapsack contains his knick-knacks, the things that identify him as Leon. A small Lion figurine his father had carved for him when he was a newborn, a necklace that had belonged to his mother and then his sister, and a portrait of his family when they were all together. The heirloom- the sword, had been passed down in his mother’s family for generations. It was a work of art and a magical artifact. The sword, by its proper name the Glas Sword, had been burnished in a dragon’s breath. He could not use it for it would reveal his magic. He opens his eyes, standing he opens the closet door, and reaches for the knapsack, pulling out the small rolled canvas. Unfurling it, he looked upon the portrait. 

He traces the figures with his eyes. Starting from the left, Uncle Balinor, his mother’s brother, his hand is on his sister’s shoulder, who sits in a chair in front of him. Mother sits in an elegant chair, her right hand in her lap, her left on the armrest. Father is to the right of Uncle Balinor, one hand covers his wife’s. Uncle and Mother both have a mischievous glint in their eyes. Sitting next to Mother are her parents, Caractos and Adhan. Grandfather Caractos holds an infant, Eleanor, Leon’s sister, her eyes are open and a tuft of blonde hair is visible from underneath her swaddle. Leon is next to them, sitting atop his grandmother’s lap. She has a hand on his shoulder, he was about two and a half at the time, but when he looks at this picture he swears he can remember the feel of her hand. Then to the right of his grandmother is his paternal grandfather, Amlawdd, hands folded in the center of his lap. Behind Grandfather Amlawdd, are his two younger children. Uncle Agravaine, he is much younger than Leon has ever remembered him to be, still stuck with peach fuzz rather than stubble, though he already must’ve been into his late twenties, and Aunt Ygraine, she is smiling, in Leon’s memory she is always smiling, her hands are sat on the corner of her father’s chair, though she looks at the painter. His elder brothers sit on the ground, Patrick is beside Mother, directly below Uncle Balinor, and Andre sits before Grandfather Amlawdd. Uther was not in this portrait, he had not accompanied his wife to the DuBois estate, Leon did not know the reason, nor did he care. 

He doesn’t look at this picture often, he tells himself it is a fruitless thing to live in the past. Most of the people in this portrait are dead now. His paternal grandfather was the first to die, it was when he was a child, and Leon’s memory of him is foggy at best. He supposes that he was technically a child when all of them died, assuming his Uncle Balinor is still alive, though he didn’t feel like a child for most of them. He stopped being a child after his Aunt’s death because that’s when everything changed. Then his mother died, she was already ill when this was painted, she had struggled with Eleanor, and her health had slowly declined. Leon was four when his mother died, but he remembers her with awful clarity. When his Aunt died, Leon was seven, she had only held her son for a moment, naming him Arthur, and then she was gone. Leon had been close with his aunt; she had spent much of her time with her nephews and niece after her sister-in-law had died. He remembers seeing his father cry. A month later Uther announces his plan to start the purge. Father rides to Camelot, Leon slips away from his siblings and follows him. Leon doesn’t see the duel, doesn’t see the fight that preceded it, no he only saw the end of the duel, only saw the sword plunged into his father’s belly. There are ten days before the purge starts in full force. It starts with the murder of the dragonlords, it starts with the death of his grandparents because his grandfather was a dragonlord and his wife had insisted on following him. Leon is eight when his sister dies, she is six years old. And she dies because she wasn’t willing to stand by and watch as Patrick was dying. She had used healing magic, and been discovered. It is a long time till the next death. Andre died protecting Leon, using magic. He had jumped in front of an arrow intended for Leon and was only able to do so using magic to slow time. He was seventeen then, just knighted, on his first patrol as a knight.

He puts down the portrait, he looks at the sword, a blade like this could destroy the Wraith, but the Wraith is of his father and he can’t. Besides the blade is spelled to wield a dragon-knight’s magic, Leon’s magic. He is tired, he should rest.

Merlin has to find a solution before Leon faces the wraith. And he thinks he has, but where convincing Gwen to give him a sword was easy enough, convincing the dragon will be far more difficult. He sneaks down the long staircase, and into the dragon's cavern. He is waiting.

“Merlin!”

“Do you know why I’m here?” He called. “It may surprise you, Merlin, but my knowledge of your life is not universal,” the dragon sassed. “It’s to do with Leon, his life’s in danger, he will die. Unless I can make a weapon that will kill the dead.”

“Leon, hmm?” the dragon said, “So what do you come to ask of me?” Merlin drew the sword, the sound echoing in the cavern. 

“Will you burnish it? To save my friend.” 

“The dead do not return without reason, who has he come for?” 

“Uther,” Merlin said. He knew this would make the dragon less likely to help him, but the dragon would know if he lied.

“Then let him take his vengeance, the wraith will die without my aid.”

“But it’s Leon who’s going to fight him, you have to save him,” he pleaded. 

“And why, young warlock, should I aid him?” the Dragon spoke, he wasn’t really asking, Merlin could tell. Merlin scrunches his face, frustrated, “Leon is the best of the knights, he’s one of the people that makes Arthur less of a prat, if he dies, then Arthur would be changed. Arthur looks up to him, cares about him.” ‘So do I,’ remains silent. The dragon weighs his head, and shockingly, “You make a good point, but if I burnish this sword for the young knight, he must not keep it. It is not his destiny.”

“I’ll give it to Arthur,” Merlin agrees quickly, too desperate to save his friend than to question why Leon too has a destiny. 

With the sword burnished, he runs to the physician's quarters needing to formulate a plan about how exactly to get Leon to fight with the sword. He is shocked to find Leon already sitting there. “Leon! I need to talk to you!” Merlin exclaimed, he doesn’t think as he says his next words, “This sword can kill the wraith, you have to use it!” Leon’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly, then his expression is smoothed over before he gently smiles, “Merlin, thank you.” Leon stands, the knight’s hand comes to the servant’s shoulder, “But I cannot use that sword.” 

“What! But-” Merlin says, cutting himself off when Leon raises his hand, “I wanted to talk to you before it’s too late.” 

“Leon, don’t talk like that,” Merlin frowns. “Just listen to me, please, my friend,” Leon says. Leon goes back to his seat, gesturing for Merlin to sit next to him. There is a pause as Leon seems to think; as if he’s about to broach a difficult topic. 

“I know,” he says, “About your magic.” Merlin is shocked but Leon’s eyes are gentle and comforting, he allows Merlin to process the information, before continuing, “I’ve known since we met,” he sighs, “That’s not all. I have magic too. Nowhere near as powerful as yours but that’s how I know. I’ve known. And it’s not just shown me things like that. You’re my cousin. My uncle’s son.” 

“You know who my father is?” Merlin says, barely processing what Leon just said, it seems impossible, “Who was he? I mean what was he like?” Leon smiles, “His name was Balinor Glastos, he was a dragon-lord, and he was a lot like you.” 

“What’s a dragon-lord?” Merlin asks. Leon begins to explain, “A dragon-lord is the human term for what we are. ‘Man-faced dragons’ is what we call ourselves. We are dragons with human bodies, there’s actually not much more to it. And if you’re the child of a dragon-lord you’re a dragon-lord or a dragon-knight, and vice versa.” Merlin has a million questions, one that Leon had already answered, but he had to stay on track, “I have a ton of questions, but more importantly why won’t you take this sword?” Leon looks away, “I can’t destroy the wraith, even with that sword, I wouldn’t be able to do it.” Merlin wants to protest, Leon is one of the best knights he knows, he could totally beat the wraith, but Leon talks again before Merlin can begin. 

“The wraith is my father. I can’t kill him, even if he’s already dead,” Leon turns his head back looking Merlin in the eyes, “I’m sorry.” Merlin doesn’t know exactly what Leon is apologizing for but, “It’s okay.” 

Leon spends the rest of the night telling Merlin all about his father. And what it means to be a dragon-lord. 

“Then Uncle Balinor set Gorlois’ socks on fire, and he…”

“...Well I’m a dragon-knight, not a dragon-lord, the magic I have is more related to the physical aspects of a dragon’s magic, rather than the intellectual like yours.” 

Leon patiently answered Merlin’s questions, they laughed at old stories and pretended like Leon was not to face his death tomorrow. It was wonderful. But tomorrow came anyway.

Leon put on his armor for the last time. He sheathed the sword, put on his helmet, and stepped out to face his father’s wraith. There is a large audience but the crowd was silent as Leon walked forward. It felt as if all of Camelot was holding its breath. He faced the Black Knight, and the two drew their swords. 

The wraith immediately went in on the offensive, hacking his sword at Leon. Leon parried easily, trying to pretend like this wasn’t the walking corpse of his father. Leon refused to attack, it would waste his energy, it takes five minutes for the cycle of attack and parry to end. The Wraith lands a particularly hard blow knocking Leon to the ground, his sword skips along the arena grounds and the Wraith discards its shield. He scrambles working on pure instinct as he hides behind his shield. He manages to dodge a blow and use his shield to deflect the next. The wraith lands a foot on Leon’s shield, locking its position into place, the wraith raises his sword above his head and- “LEON!” Someone shouts it sounds like Arthur, but Arthur hadn’t been in the stands. The Black Knight is frozen in place. “Leon,” it whispers, its voice a hair louder than a breath. The wraith moves his sword to one hand and uses the other to pull Leon’s helmet off. Leon has lost his grip on his shield, shocked and confused. The wraith hisses, throwing its sword to the side, and then it repeats, in his father’s voice, “Leon.” 

His father moves backward before reaching out and enveloping Leon in his arms, 

“My Son.” 

Leon’s eyes began to water. His father removes his own helmet, looking the exact same as the day he died, “Oh my baby boy, my darling son, my little light! Look at you! Look how you’ve grown!” There are tears streaming down Leon’s cheeks and there are tears on his father’s as well. And then Gaius is there, and so is Merlin, and Arthur, and Gwen, and Morgana. And it’s alright, and Leon is half sure he’s dead, but- 

“Let’s get you two to my quarters,” Gaius interrupted his thoughts, “Make sure you’re alright.” 

[mamawardentotherescue]

Okay, so I've slept and gathered my thoughts more and I'm going to explain why I don't like da:v (because some of you have assumed a lot about me and my relationship with the series)

First off, I have been in love with dragon age since I was 13/14 and have been obsessed with it for 12 years. It was my muse for writing and creating art; I read every book I could get my hands on and lived on the wiki and forums for everything else; when I got my first pay check I bought the lore books (which was hard to find in Australia). When I was depressed or so lonely my heart felt like it would burst, I would come back to the companions I would call friends. This game saved me from killing myself more times than I could count.

I have loved this game series for all it's writing and lore - the good, the bad, and the ugly. So, for me to be upset and disappointed in this game is not to be taken lightly.

Straight up, da:v felt wrong (I'm not going to mention why I don't like the inquisitor creator because I feel like at this point you should know why). They launch you straight into the middle of a plan your character has apparently known all along, but it left me feeling confused. I had so many questions! It's been 8 years since Trespasser, 10 years since the beginning of Inquisition and 20 for Origins; a lot has changed and I want to know what's happened in thedas since I've been away because I've invested a lot of time with that world, regardless of whether or not you respect my input on the world building...but the writing doesn't care about that.

I had a constant thought of "they're trying to recreate Mass Effect but have forgotten why people play Dragon Age, and they're not even respecting ME while they do it" and the more hours I put in to this game the more obvious this became.

"But MamaWarden, it looks so pretty and the combat is fun!" I hear you say, and yes, I do agree. The game was built really well in comparison to past games, but good hair isn't a good enough distraction from shit writing and a lack of respect for the series.

Before finishing the game I would often say that the best part about the game was the companions. They felt familiar and I enjoyed what I had with them but wished I had more. I was prepared to stick with that until they made me choose between Harding or Davrin (and Assan)...

Let me explain very simply why I fucking hated this:

1. It was another "look at us trying to be Mass Effect" moment but done shittily

2. Feels sus to say the least to pin Harding, the first female dwarf we've been allowed to romance and have a pre-existing relationship with (as the player), against Davrin, the first black elf we've encountered that wasn't just an OC of the player

3. Doesn't matter if you complete their companion quests, gain max approval and send what I would argue the "right" one to survive to a mission, only to have that person die because they were the other group's leader

As soon as it happened and the companion (I felt like I was forced to choose because I was romancing the other) was killed, I felt like nothing mattered. Again, it felt like someone tried to recreate the OG ME trilogy into one game but completely misunderstood what made those games ironically heart wrenching. I wasn't given a choice where I knowingly sacrificed a companion the way they did with Ashley and Kaiden, I was instead given a "who do you think will be best for the job?"

You might think it's a taste or preference thing, but it's not. It's a "dragon age has followed a particular pattern that's different to mass effect but now they've subverted expectations" type of thing. I might be autistic, but doesn't that bother you?

I hated that unless you were romancing Solas, your inquisitor really doesn't matter much to the story. I hated that your Lavellan felt like she was reduced to an additional underling to Solas instead of being his equal. I hated that characters like Mae, Dorian, Isabela and the Inquisitor had NOTHING to say about Varric, regardless of whether everyone knew the truth about him or not. I hated that bioware spewed "no unnecessary cameos" but barely used the old companions for anything useful outside of Varric and Solas pushing the story. I hated that shit is blowing up in the south of thedas but it feels like no one cares except for me, the player who has spent literal years invested into Ferelden and neighbouring countries.

Nothing felt like it mattered and that's the worst part of all of this. That might the intended meta commentary but fucking save it for a different game. This series has always been about hope in times of darkness, but this game feels like it cheapened that ideal and abused it so they can give this half-baked "morally grey" shit of a story and expect us to eat it

[elizabeth-holland24]

The Beast Within-Chapter 9 (Part 1)

Back in Jake's chambers, the air was electric with anticipation as the enchanted objects worked diligently to prepare him for the ball. The tension in Jake’s chest, however, was palpable—a whirlwind of emotions he could neither contain nor understand.

What was I thinking? A dance? Of all things, I choose something that requires grace… something I’ve lacked ever since this curse turned me into a beast. His claws flexed nervously. What if I step on her? What if I look ridiculous? I mean, I am a beast in a suit… He let out a frustrated growl, pacing the room.

“Jake, stop fidgeting,” Natasha chastised, flitting around him with a comb. “This is perfect. The rose has only four petals left. Tonight is your chance to tell her how you feel.”

Jake stopped pacing and scowled at her. “Tell her how I feel? She’ll never love me. I mean, I hurt her before the curse. What’s to say I won’t hurt her again when she finds out I’ve been lying to her?”

“Do not be discouraged,” Bradley chimed in. “She is the one.”

“I wish you would stop saying that,” Jake snapped. “There is no ‘one.’”

“You care for her, don’t you?” Natasha asked gently.

Jake hesitated, running a hand through his thick hair. “More than I should,” he admitted. “But what if I mess this up? What if it’s too late?”

Penny landed on his shoulder. “It’s never too late, Jake. Listen to your heart and be yourself. Besides, if you mess this up, you’ll be drinking cold tea for the rest of your days.”

Javy added with a chuckle, “Alone. In a very dark and dusty castle.”

Jake huffed but allowed them to continue preparing him. As they straightened his suit and smoothed his hair, he couldn’t shake the thought of Mausi.

This isn’t just about the curse anymore, he realized. It’s about her.

On the other side of the castle, Mausi stood before a mirror, her heart a confusing mix of anticipation and unease. Halo flitted around her, adding the finishing touches to her gown.

“For the first time in my life, I feel… giddy?” Mausi whispered to her reflection. She barely recognized herself in the elegant gown, now adorned with golden flecks that shimmered like stars. Tiny vines and flowers wove through the fabric and her hair, creating an ethereal glow. “Why am I nervous?”

Halo smiled knowingly. “Perhaps because you’re starting to care for him?”

Mausi frowned, her fingers tracing the edge of the mirror. “Jake reminds me of someone… but I can’t remember who. He’s… different than I thought. Behind all that bravado, there’s kindness. But how can I let myself feel this way, knowing my father is out there, worried and alone?”

“Guilt and joy can coexist, dear,” Halo said softly. “It’s okay to let yourself feel both.”

Mausi’s gaze softened, but the doubt lingered in her eyes. As Halo added a final golden hairpin, Mausi looked at her reflection once more. “Do you think… I could be happy here?”

“Happiness is complicated,” Halo replied. “But tonight, you can allow yourself a moment of it.”

Jake waited at the base of the grand staircase, his claws twitching against the fabric of his suit. When Mausi appeared at the top of the stairs, his breath caught. She was radiant, her gown glowing softly in the candlelight, her every step graceful and deliberate. For a moment, all his insecurities melted away.

Mausi’s eyes met his, and she froze, her heart skipping a beat. Jake’s beastly form seemed to blur as she saw the man within—a man who cared deeply, who longed for connection but feared rejection. Her steps faltered only briefly before she descended, drawn to him.

When they reached each other, Jake extended his arm. “Do you trust me?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

Mausi hesitated, then placed her hand on his arm. “I do.”

Together, they entered the ballroom, where soft candlelight bathed the space in warmth. As the music began, Jake took Mausi’s hand, his movements tentative at first. But as they danced, something shifted. Their steps became fluid, as if they had danced together a hundred times before.

Mausi couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. For the first time, she saw beyond the beastly exterior—saw the man who had been hurt, who had loved and lost, who was trying so hard to make things right.

Jake, too, was captivated. Mausi’s laughter, her light, her courage—they filled the cracks in his heart. He knew he was in too deep, but he couldn’t help himself. If this is my only chance to show her how I feel, I’ll make it count.

As the music swelled, the enchanted objects joined in, their movements mirroring the joy and hope that filled the room. Mausi gasped as, for a brief moment, she saw them in their human forms. Tears pricked her eyes as she realized the depth of their sacrifice.

When the music ended, Jake led Mausi to the balcony. The night air was cool, the stars glimmering above them.

“I haven’t danced in ages,” Jake admitted.

Mausi smiled. “The last time I danced was with my dad. Well, Pete.” Her smile faltered. “Thank you. No one has ever done something like this for me.”

“You deserve this and more,” Jake said earnestly. “As for your dad… I’m sorry for what you found out. But from what I’ve seen, blood doesn’t define family. Pete loves you. He’d do anything for you.”

“I know,” Mausi whispered. “It’s just… why did he hide the truth? Did he think I’d love him less?”

“Sometimes, people do things to protect the ones they love,” Jake said. “Thinking it’s the only way. I wish that had been my case.”

Mausi frowned. “What do you mean?”

Jake sighed. “Long ago, my parents made a deal with a sorcerer. They wanted more—more riches, more success. The sorcerer warned them that something like that would come at a price, there is always a price with magic, they didn't care. They thought that price was me, they were blinded by riches, not long after they got what they wanted but at the price of their lives they got lost at sea, and I was left alone. I guess I can't really judge them, heck that what got me in this predicament the first time, the apple doest fall far from the tree.”

Mausi’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re wrong. You’re nothing like them. I see you, Jake. The real you. You’re no beast.”

Jake’s heart ached. “Do you think… Is it foolish to believe I might earn your affection?”

Mausi’s throat tightened. “I don’t know.”

Jake’s shoulders sagged. “Would you like to see your father?”

A/N: Merry Late Christmas. So I wanted to upload this before but got a little busy, you know how the holidays are. But yeah we are near the end, I hope you guys love this chapter. This one is dedicated to my bestfriend, my ride or die, my pookie. Remember to like, comment or weblog and tell me your thoughts. Thank you so much for the love and support on this story. Don't forget to comment, like and reblog, so I know if you are enjoying it.  Love you guys and thanks for reading  <3

[mapis-putellas]

Vulnerable

Parings: Natasha x You

Words: 1466

Warnings: extremely brief mentions of SA. Redroom.

Summary: Natasha is extremely sick, and trusts only you to take care of her.

Notes: this definitely could have gone on for much longer, but it’s been a while since I’ve had the inspiration to write and I wasn’t going to push myself. So enjoy this, because I’m not sure when I’ll be able to update again 🤍

Natasha lets out a congested sniffle as she brings her hand up to rub at the tip of her nose in a futile attempt at quelling the persistent itch. She didn't think she'd ever felt so awful before.

Her nose was simultaneously as stuffy as it was dripping with snot. That wasn't even mentioning how sore it was due to how often she was constantly having to blow it. She was feverish; her joints ached and it feels like she was swallowing gravel each time she tries to eat or drink something.

She was sweating through every single item of clothing she owns, and she could barely stand up without feeling as though she was about to pass out.

Natasha didn't even want think about how her hair hadn't been washed in days, sprawled down her back in what was once considered a braid but was now simply one large tangle.

She was frustrated, irritable. And she just wanted everything to stop.

"Huh'htsch!" She doesn't even bother trying to stifle. She'd sneezed so many times today that it was beyond her efforts.

"Bless you baby." You murmur as you make your way back into your shared bedroom, setting down the tray filled with soup, medicine and water onto the nightstand before sitting down and running a gentle hand up and down Natasha's back. "How are you feeling?" You tuck a sweat soaked strand of hair behind her ear.

Natasha just barely shrugs her shoulders as her eyes burn with the familiar sensation of tears.

She wasn't an emotional person. Not as a child, nor now as an adult. Early on she'd learned that being cold and emotionless was one of the only tools you had in this cruel world. Not a single tear had been shed during her time in the red room. Not when she was beaten. Tortured. Not even when they'd taken what was left of her innocence away at just thirteen years of age. She'd remained stoic and unfeeling. A robot. Just as they'd taught her.

It was a title she'd held most of her life. She was often described as rather cold and emotionless by those she chooses to have close to her, and she was okay with that. It made pushing people away easier when the time came for it, because the less people she had in her life, the less there were to betray her.

But with you? Never. In your company, she allows those walls to fall a little. She was safe with you. She trusted you. More than anyone and anything. So when the first of many tears begin to fall down her cheek leaving only a soft tickling sensation in its wake, she doesn't even try to stop it.

"I know," you whisper knowingly as you lean down slightly to press a gentle kiss to flaming hot skin, "I know baby. I'll go run you a cool bath, okay? See if we can get this fever down a little. You can have your soup later."

Natasha simply nods as she sniffles wetly into her pillow, and after making a mental note to change the sheets before you went to bed tonight, you press another kiss to her wet cheek before disappearing through to the en-suite bathroom. Several more coughs and sneezes fill your ears as you make quick work of preparing the bath, and you sigh in defeat as you dry off your hands with a towel.

You wished you could do more for her. Medicine and soup could only do so much before your efforts were in vain.

When the tub was filled about half way with warm water, you head back through to the bedroom to see Natasha just as you had left her. Except now, she appears to be asleep. Soft snores were escaping her slightly parted lips, and you couldn't help but smile softly at the sight as you head over to her and perch yourself at the end of the bed. You run a gentle hand across her back.

"Nat? Your baths ready baby." You attempt to rouse her, and Natasha sighs heavily as she pries her eyes open. She smiles softly at the sight of you, and you couldn't help but mimic it as you slide your arms beneath her back to sit her up.

"Want me to carry you?" You ask as your hand comes to rest on the bare skin of her back from where her shirt had ridden up, keeping your voice as judgment free as possible. Whilst you knew she trusted you, more than she trusted anybody else, she still had her limits and you weren't about to push them.

Natasha could only nod, and you press a gentle kiss to her shoulder as you guide her arms to settle around your shoulders. Once sure she was hanging on, you slip a hand beneath each of her thighs and easily lift her smaller frame up into your arms. Her legs seem to instinctively tighten around you, and you give her behind a few soft pats to reassure her that you had her before making your way through to the bathroom.

Natasha's body seems to protest on its own accord when you attempt to set her down straight away, and you find yourself pausing for only a second before standing back up right and tightening your grip around her. Her legs were in what could only be described as a death grip around your waist, fists tight around the material of your T-shirt.

You knew -for wherever reason, that she was in fight or flight mode right now, and treading carefully was your best option.

"It's okay," you reassure, keeping an arm beneath her to behind to help keep her supported, your free hand tracing gentle circles across the length of her back, "we'll stay right here for as long as you need. You want to know our plans for after your bath?" You ask in hopes it would help distract her, and though it takes a little while, you do eventually feel her nod, silently signalling for you to continue.

"First we're gonna get some soup into your stomach. I made chicken and noodle, your favourite," you give her a soft bounce, glad to feel her lips quirk up into a smile against the skin of your neck. "Then after that I'm afraid it's time for some more medicine." You continue knowingly, and the groan that falls from her lips did not go amiss.

Her legs, however, do loosen slightly around you signalling she was becoming more relaxed.

You smile slightly in amusement. "But..." you add with a playful tilt to your voice, "if you take it with no complaints, I have some ice cream in the freezer that's calling your name."

You weren't beyond bribing your girlfriend when necessary. She was more stubborn than anyone you've ever met before, so if a promise of ice cream was enough to get her to take her medication then so be it. You weren't ashamed, and neither was she.

Natasha remains in your arms for a few moments longer before legs go limp allowing you to set her down, and you do so both gently and reluctantly, bringing your hands up to cup her flushed cheeks and delicately grazing the pads of your thumbs across the soft skin.

"Kiss." She pleads hoarsely as she clutches at your wrists, and you pout softly as you lean down to press your lips against her own. The kiss was gentle, her lips slightly chapped. It lingers for no more than two seconds before you reluctantly pull away.

"Bath, baby." You remind as you lean forward to place a lingering kiss to her forehead, and Natasha nods with a wet sniffle as she holds up her arms.

Smiling slightly at the silent implication, you gently tug the oversized shirt from her body and toss it into the laundry basket. You then fall to your knees and wait for her nod of consent before easing your fingers into the waistband of her shorts and easing them down her legs along with her underwear.

With an affectionate kiss to her hipbone, you were back on your feet, taking your hands in her own and helping her unsteady frame into the tub.

She says nothing about the temperature of the water, but you could see by both the look on her face and the goosebumps that litter every inch of her skin that she was less than comfortable. With no hesitation, you find yourself stripping off too, slipping in to the small gap left behind her and circling your arms around her waist.

"I've got you baby.” You murmur, “I’ve got you.”

**

@mywitchy-assassin @goldenempyrean @somber-sapphic