#and oh look how convenient one was just laying around in the woods

[notspiders]

Liminal Spaces w/ 141

A thought I made with a few friends who fleshed it out more:

Liminal spaces! But you know, 141 are the monsters :P Now, the rule is that as long as you're compliant and not trying to escape, your liminal space is going to be heaven. They'll make sure of that to ensure you don't associate anything negative to their space. Can't have that, hmm?

Each man has their own domain. :)

Price - Suburbia:

Quiet, infinite neighborhood, everything looks the same. There's people but they all seem to act exactly like you'd imagine Stock Images people would act.

You can't really talk with them either. Strange how when you approach one of them, they just disappear in a blink of an eye.

Price would prefer if you act as his loving partner :)

The fridge is always stocked! Beds are warm and cozy. The television plays anything you want.

You also get WIFI. Don't bother messaging anyone (that isn't your husband.)

You can try to 'exit' the neighborhood. There's a car even! You can drive in it. There's unlimited amount of fuel. Too bad the road never seems to end and the houses are still there...

Not to worry. You can exit out of the car and enter any one of the houses. Price is always waiting :)

Got that all out of your system, hm?

Gaz - Shopping Mall:

Shopping mall has everything and anything.

Movie theaters, designer clothes, outlets, cafeterias, anything you want- it's there! Have fun exploring :)

It's just you though. No one else is in this mall.

Gaz's voice will always guide you over the speakers, should you ever get lost.

Or, your favorite music always plays over the speakers. You can ask Gaz to skip any song or play whatever you want at any moment of time.

Arcades, cafes, even a pet shop! Gaz will be happy to join you if you wish for company :)

The doors to the exits don't budge open. Stop trying.

There's an Internet cafe and library in this mall. Anything you want to read, watch, listen- it's all there. Still can't talk with anyone... Shame.

But you have Kyle. Who else do you want?

Soap - the Woods:

The Firewatch tower in the endless, dense woods.

It's pretty cozy.

Food is always stocked in the fridge. Plenty of water too. If you want something fresh, just ask! Soap is happy to hunt for you :)

You can watch sunsets and sunrises with him. He loves it :)

No WIFI here unfortunately, but, really- say goodbye to your electronic devices and embrace nature. It's good for you.

If you want to explore the woods, always have Soap beside you. He'll guide you around. Maybe you might find a small, beautiful clearing beside a lake. It's a perfect campsite. Could go swimming, fishing, canoeing...

Don't worry. No harmful bugs or creepy crawlies you dislike.

Oh? You want to go rock-climbing? Why how convenient that there's this cliff right beside us. With harnesses and such attached to the wall! And would you look at that, it's very easy to climb.

Plenty of things to do.

Starwatching. :)

As long as you're with him, no harmful monsters are going to bother you two.

Never go alone.

Ghost - the Beach

It's... a lovely beach.

If it weren't so foggy in most days.

But that's what you have Ghost for. He's your personal heater. :)

Seriously it gets freezing at night and the small shack by the ocean isn't really keeping the cold out.

Don't you worry. Sand won't get everywhere. And it's smooth. Calm your tits, Anakin.

Some days, when the Sun is out, the sand is just the perfect warm bed for you to lay down and just... sunbathe.

You can tan with Ghost to get that impeccable bronze. Don't worry, you won't get sunburnt. Of course... could always ask Ghost to lather sunscreen on you. He'll be happy to help you with that :)

The water can vary in temperature- from freezing cold to a nice sunny warm.

You can swim and wade in it. And you can try to go deeper but isn't that strange? The depth isn't changing and you just don't seem to be leaving the shore too much.

The currents do get stronger when you keep on trying. Don't bother, you're never getting past it.

Plenty of food and water in that shack. And spare clothes, towels...

WIFI? Babe, this is the beach. You don't need it. You have Ghost.

Bonus:

Credits to @angelcqre for this line:

something about the boys all going to Gaz’s domain at random points to pick up shit they don’t have in their own domains [...]

Yes.

Yes they would. They absolutely would.

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Out of the Woods

So finally here is the fic to accompany the Liebgott Taylor Swift moodboard (as seen below) Pairings: Joseph Liebgott x reader. Warnings: swearing, gore (reader is a nurse), war themes

Normandy 1944

Joseph Liebgott had never been the easiest man to get along with, he was stubborn and opinionated and was built like a ticking time bomb, the slightest thing could set him off and that was the mistake Y/n made when she first bumped into him.

“Hey, watch where ya going ya shit head!” Y/n stumbled forward, her threadbare boots scuffing in the mud as she dropped the wooden crate of medical supplies, cursing as the valuable, clean bandages unravelled into the sludgy puddle. The path outside the aid station was a thick mire and often reminded Y/n of the way her father had reminisced about the trenches of the Great War.

“ I should watch where I’m going?” Y/n spat, narrowing her eyes at the paratrooper, “You’re the one who just cost first battalion half of their medical supplies.” Throwing the salvageable bandages back into the box in anguish, the crumpled lumps of clay-coloured cloth were no good now. Y/n wasn’t sure how she was going to break the news to Eugene; the medic wasn’t known for his anger but knowing their situation this would surely push him over the edge.

The paratrooper spun around to face her, his skin pale and dark eyes encircled by purple, “oh so first battalion got their own personal nurse now? No wonder those fuckers are so cheerful,” he sneered, oblivious of the accident he had inflicted and not bother to offer any kind of assistance as Y/n fumbled anxiously for the supplies.

“No, I’m distributing supplies to all the medics in each battalion of Dog, Easy and Fox company actually, but maybe when I find out which battalion you’re from I’ll conveniently skip them,” she snapped back, thrusting the waterlogged box aggressively under her arm, no longer concerned by the trail of sludge leaking down her white apron.

“Good day, Corporal.”

Holland 1944

The second time they met was no better. Joe had been injured on a patrol and his neck was bleeding profusely through the rudimentary bandage wrapped poorly in a limp scarf.

“Liebgott just let me look at it God dammit,” Y/n reached over, her nimble fingers trying desperately to remove the bandage from his neck but he flinched away. Her fingers barely brushed against the dressing as he shot up from his seat in a receptive, crumbling leather chair situated in the corner of the temporary aid station, having once been someone’s home that now lay abandoned and derelict.

“No, get off me. I don’t need your help. Where’s Doc Roe?” Liebgott snapped, and Y/n sighed elaborately; she was in no mood for this kind of attitude. There were eleven other men in the aid station who would all greatly appreciate being attended too.

“Doc Roe is dealing with other casualties. You got me or nothing.”

Liebgott snorted, “Guess I’ll just bleed to death then.”

Y/n protested but Liebgott had already shouldered his M1 and was making his way towards the entrance.

“Why won’t you just let me look at it?” Y/n hollered, a little louder than she had intended and alerted the other paratroopers.

Joe spun on his heels, his mouth-eaten jump boots, scraping the rough, wooden floorboards.

“I don’t want some woman half-assing a dressing because she wants to be part of the war effort. This is no place for a woman, it is a man's war,” he vituperated her, taking no notice of the stares he was receiving from his friends. “I don’t want your help,” his word was final and his boots were heavy as he departed leaving a deafening silence in his wake.

“I don’t know what his problem is with me, Gene,” Y/n sighed, as she finished unpacking the fresh medical supplies from one of the many crates from their much-needed supply drop. Her muscles griped, but soon relaxed as she finally took a seat on one of the crates; Y/n had been on her feet all day. “I don’t know why he hates me.”

Eugene's dark eyes followed her movements, sending a sympathetic smile her way as he dropped down beside her on the crates, “Liebgott is a hard man to read, ma Chérie.”

Y/n simpered, the right corner of her lips turning upwards at the nickname. Eugene, with his dark hair and kind eyes, had always been a striking character and the two were of one mind. His friendly but subdued nature seemed to draw people to him, making him a favourite within the company, including with Y/n who despite what other men in the Company thought was always a welcome hand by Eugene’s side,

“I just don’t understand why he hates me.”

“I don’t hate you,” the gruff voice caused the pair to turn; Y/n felt as though she may have whiplash from the speed at which she spun around, concerned by how much he could have heard from their conversation and worried that he would now think she was pathetic, lamenting about trivial problems. Joe, standing in the doorway leaning against his M1, seemed to have not heard the conversation or if he had he never made a comment. Instead, his dark eyes made their way towards Eugene, bloody bandages still pressed against the wound on his neck.

“Are you free to look at my neck now, Doc?” He asked, ignorant of Y/n presence - why should this be any different to any of their previous interactions? He stared blankly at Eugene.

“Sure, Liebgott,” Eugene stood up and moved over to his fellow paratrooper. “Take ya self a seat, I’ll grab ma things.”

Eugene disappeared, his heavy footfalls seemed to echo his departure and was the only sign Y/n needed.

“I’m going to head out, Gene. I’m shattered,” her hands fumbling into her musette bag, hastily stuffing the extra box of syrettes Eugene had given her into the inner pocket. Joe’s eyes seemed to dance after her, an unwanted shadow documenting her every movement. They followed her out of the door and even as her boots squelched unpleasantly down the track, her legs carrying her rapidly away from the watchful eyes. She couldn’t find it in her to turn around, to face him, too afraid of the glare he always sent her way.

Bastogne 1944

The Luftwaffe started dropping bombs around midnight. Y/n with blood encrusted under her short nails, had just finished her rounds, checking on all the wounded soldiers she had patched up during the day. The distinct whistling from above was her first clue that they weren’t going to have a quiet night. Like a deathly siren announcing the beginning of the end. Reneé appeared beside her, anxiety etched on her delicate features.

“We are in for a long night, Y/n. Grab what supplies you can.”

Y/n nodded, hurrying towards the store room when the first bomb whistled down on the church, shaking it from the rafters, dust falling in great clouds from the ceiling.

“Y/n, come quickly. We have to evacuate everyone.”

Along with the other nurses, Y/n helped Reneé evacuate the walking wounded first, sending injured soldiers into the snowy streets of Bastogne. Next came the more severely injured, hauled out on stretchers between two nurses.

“Y/n, stay out here with the wounded, check their wounds. We have to make sure no one has torn any stitches trying to escape. I’m going to try and get some more out,” Reneé called, hurrying back into the crumbling church with several other nurses hot on her heels.

Great flames billowed from the surrounding buildings, the night was ablaze with fire and smoke, and the earth shook with each eruption. Soldiers had started firing the Ack Ack guns at the aircraft above. The noise was deafening, a constant pounding over the top of the whistling bombs and explosions. Y/n could feel her heart pounding, a constant thumping in her ear reminding her that she was miraculously still alive.

The church was struck again and Y/n had to fight the urge to follow her friends into danger, but the wounded soldiers needed her. Lights flashed up behind her, illuminating the terrified nurse and her patients. She turned to see a jeep approaching, a wounded man strapped to the front wailing in agony, thrashing against his restraints. The jeep swerved to a halt and a figure came running towards her.

“EUGENE!” She cried out running to embrace her friend.

“Ma Chérie, are you alright?” Eugene hugged her tightly to his chest. Y/n couldn’t help the tears that began to fall, the growing emotions of the evening finally spilling from within her.

“Gene, Reneé went back inside,” Y/n sobbed, just as the third shell hit the church. They both watched in horror as the front of the church caved in, stone crumbling down into the street and blocking the entrance.

“NOOOO!” Y/n cried, thrashing against Eugene’s arms but he wouldn’t let go.

“No Y/n, please. There is nothing we can do. I can’t lose you too,” he admitted, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as they shared in their grief.

Joe sat shivering in his foxhole, the cold seeping into his bones in a way that the winter in San Francisco never could have.

“Hey Joe,” George called out, plonking himself down beside him. “How ya doing?” George shoved his scuffed leather boot against Joe’s clothed leg, prodding him like an impatient child.

Joe turned to him, “How the fuck do you think I’m doing, George? I’m freezing my fucking ass off in the middle of the woods for a CO who can’t even make a decision.”

“Alright, jeez. Sorry for asking,” George raised his hands in surrender. “We just got news from Bastogne.” George began, trying to gauge Joe’s reaction. “It was hit by the Luftwaffe. The aid station… it’s gone.”

“Oh fucking brilliant. Now if we get hit we ain’t got no aid station either.”

George swallowed quickly, “Y/n was in Bastogne.”

Any words Joe had thought of died in the back of his throat. His face went as white as the snow on the ground and he could feel the sweat growing on his palms, his stomach plummeting into his jump boots.

“Is she…?”

“I don’t know, Joe. Doc’s not back yet but I wanted to prepare you in case.”

“In case of what?” Joe snapped, standing from his foxhole and slinging his M1 over his shoulder in anguish. “And why should I care anyway? It’s not like I like her or anything.”

“Fucking hell,” George whispered under his breath. “Joe, when are you gonna grow some balls and admit you’re in love with her. Everyone can see it, including Webster and he’s oblivious to most things.”

It was true George had to spell it out to him back in Holland before he got hit.

“Webster sent a letter to Hoobler the other week asking if you’d finally told Y/n.”

Joe sighed, running his hand over his face, deep in thought.

“Is it really that obvious?”

“Hell yes. I bet even the Krauts on the other side of the clearing can see it.”

Joe nodded slowly, “okay. As soon as I find her I’m gonna tell her.”

George nodded, watching as his friend hurried away to check if Eugene had returned.

“Let’s just hope he’s not too late.”

Y/n groaned as she straightened her back, stretching after what seemed like hours of bending over to apply dressings, carrying wounded men to transport vehicles, and digging through the rubble to collect supplies. Her friend's bodies had been retrieved from the church and lay in a neat row under rough, army-issued blankets. Y/n couldn’t bring herself to look at them, couldn’t bring herself to accept their fate.

She had seen members of Easy Company coming and going. A few had been sent by Captain Winters to help, bringing with them more wounded paratroopers from the front line. Y/n was too preoccupied to notice the familiar figure approaching her, she didn’t notice until he grabbed her arm firmly and spun her around to face him.

“Liebgott!” She gasped, raising her hand to smack him. “What the hell is your problem? You scared me half to death.”

Joe looked a mixture of shocked and confused until his cheeks grew a bright red.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He seemed genuinely sorry but Y/n was too consumed by her emotions to think rationally.

“Well you did a darn good job of that didn’t you,” she snapped. “You know if you’re just here to be mean or make some rude comment then you can forget it. I’m not in the mood today. I just lost my friends.” Y/n knew she should not have snapped, it wasn’t Joe’s fault but all the emotions were bubbling up inside her and if she felt anymore pain her heart would burst.

“That’s not why I’m here,” Joe began, he reached forward to take Y/n hand in his own. It was warm, comforting and almost felt familiar, as if he had been holding her hand all their lives. She let him but watched in confusion by this unusual act.

“I’m so sorry about your friends, Y/n. I know this must be difficult for you. I’m here because… well when George told me the aid station had been hit I couldn’t think of anything else than making sure you were okay. Y/n I realised something and…”

“Joe, let me stop you right there. Why would you care if I was okay or not? Joe you hate me… and… and I’ve never understood why?” Y/n sobbed, bringing her hand to cover her mouth, muffling her whimpers into her bloody sleeve. “Why do you hate me, Joe? What did I do wrong?”

Joe’s heart shattered at the sight of the broken woman in front of him. Her shoulders shook violently and tears flowed freely down her dirty cheeks, smudge with ash and mud. She looked frail, weak even and Joe hated that he’d caused it.

“Y/n, I never hated you. Why would you think that?” Joe moved towards her, collecting her hands in his own larger ones once more and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “Talk to me, Y/n. Please.”

“Well you always shout at me and… and you wouldn’t l-let me treat your wound and y-you avoid me all the time,” she stammered, looking up at him through tear-filled lashes.

“Oh Sweetheart,” Joe pulled her against his chest, his breath felt warm and tingly against her neck. Y/n had never noticed that he was only slightly taller than her and her head fitted perfectly in the crook of his neck. Her hands wrapped into tight fists against his jacket and she could feel his heart hammering against her hands. “I don’t want you to ever feel like that again.”

“Joe…”

“Shh Mein Liebling, it’s all going to be alright now.”

Austria 1945

Y/n had never dreamed that she would get to visit Austria. It seemed as if it was a world away from the likes of Bastogne and the horrors of war. Its tranquil, turquoise lakes and steep mountains with their snow-covered peaks seemed the pinnacle of the landscape. Work had become scarce too, other than the occasional scrape or sprain it had mainly become stock control and arranging supplies to be sent to the Pacific where the fighting had yet to cease. Y/n knew that both herself or Joe could be sent to the Pacific at any time it was inevitable, and neither of them was going to get through the war unscathed.

For now, they were at peace and in the comforts of her room, under clean sheets with her legs tangled in Joe’s and her head resting on his chest, Y/n couldn’t help but feel at peace. The steady thrumming of his heart and the gentle rise and fall of his chest coaxed her too and from sleep in waves. She didn’t want to move, afraid that she would disturb her sleeping paratrooper but at the same time her legs had gone numb hours ago and she could feel the pins and needles begin to prickle their way up her legs.

“Joe?” She whispered, reasoning her hand cautiously to brush a stray brunette lock out of his eyes. Joe’s nose wrinkled and he screwed his eyes shut tighter with a sigh. Y/n smiled as she watched him stir from his slumber. It was one of life’s greatest pleasures to see Joe so relaxed, so at peace even if for just a while.

Joe moaned, his long lashes fluttered against his cheeks before they opened revealing his chestnut orbs.

“Good morning Mein Liebling,” his voice was gruff and sleepy but the smile on his face said that he was more than conscious enough to show his love.

Y/n smiled back at him, “Good morning handsome. How did you sleep?”

“It’s the best night's sleep I’ve had in a while, although I don’t recall much bc sleeping happening.” Joe grinned and Y/n's cheeks grew bright red at the thought of last night’s activity. Glancing around the room there was evidence everywhere. Clothes strewn across the floor, the mirror hung lopsided on the wall, the desk was cleared of any objects and the paper that had once occupied it lay across the carpet.

“I have to admit it’s the most enjoyable night I’ve had in a long time,” Joe admitted, tangling a lock of her hair around his finger.

“Me too,” Y/n admitted and Joe smiled once again.

“What does it mean? Mein Liebling?” Y/n asked, running her fingernails slowly over his exposed chest.

Joe laughed, “my darling. It’s been your nickname for a long time.” He admitted his cheeks rosy and his smile nervous.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve been calling you that for far longer than you’ve realised. I just didn’t want anyone to realise I was talking about you. Figured the other guys would give me hell about it.” Releasing the lock he’d wrapped around his finger, he sat propped up by his elbows so he could face her.

“Y/n, I need to ask you something and it’d be real nice if your answer was yes.”

Y/n sat up now too, her expression a mixture of anxiety and confusion but the soft smile on her lips encouraged him to continue.

“Y/n will you come home with me, back to Chicago I mean? I can get my old job back at the cab company and we can buy a big house…” he paused a grin spreading across his lips. “A big house with lots of rooms, for all the little Liebgotts we’re gonna be making.”

Y/n laughed, smacking Joe’s arm.

“You’re lucky you’re good looking Liebgott.”

“Am I taking that as a yes?”

“Yes, you can.”

Joe grinned at her, his cheeky little smile followed by a little laugh causing Y/n’s heart to swell beyond what she thought was possible. Wrapped in Joe’s arms in their little room in Austria Y/n realised that maybe they were finally out of the woods.

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @lieutenant-speirs @sharpshootershifty @liberteuniteegalite @msmercury84 @desert-fern @mayhem24-7forever @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @merriell-allesandro-shelton @sweetxvanixlla @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky @mutantmanifesto @malarkgirlypop

[femsolid]

yeah there are so many weird things in bible. like when "god hardered the pharaoh's heart" and thus he didn't let moses' people go. if god hardered his heart then how is the pharaoh responsible?? did god just do it for shits and giggles? also being gay is still bad but somehow eating shrimp isn't. that was just laws at the time or whatever is most convenient argument at the moment.

Oh yeah I forgot about god hardening Pharaoh's heart. I mean, technically, everything bad that happens in the world is part of god's plan so, yeah, he's a sadist.

I think my favourite Bible story might be the one with the bald prophet killing children. "As Elisha was walking along the road, some boys came out of the town and jeered at him. “Get out of here, baldy!” they said. “Get out of here, baldy!” He turned around, looked at them and called down a curse on them in the name of the Lord. Then two bears came out of the woods and mauled forty-two of the boys." (2 Kings 2:23-24) Oh wow calm down baldy...

But the part where Jesus performs an exorcism on an epileptic man by urging pigs to commit suicide or when he heals blind and deaf people by sticking his finger in his mouth and putting his saliva in their eyes and ears are also great. He also specifically tells people not to wash their hands before eating which is just invaluable wisdom as we all know. What about Abraham about to slaughter his own son Isaac because god told him to and then at the last second god is like: "Sike! I just wanted to see if you'd do it!" If it's a metaphor then the lesson is "You should be willing to murder your children for god/a voice in your head" so it's immoral either way.

A really creepy one is the story of the prophet baldy, same guy who sent bears to kill the kids, who goes to a house where a little boy died and he tells the family that he can miraculously resuscitate him but to do that he must lay on top of the boy's body, alone and put his mouth on him? "When Elisha arrived at the house, there was the child lying dead on his bed. He went in by himself and closed the door. Then he prayed to the Lord. He got up on the bed and spread his body out over the boy; he put his mouth on the boy’s mouth, his eyes over the boy’s eyes, and the palms of his hands against the boy’s palms. He bent down over him, and the boy’s skin grew warm. Elisha went back and walked around in the house. Then he got up on the bed again and bent down over him. The child sneezed seven times and opened his eyes." (2 Kings 4:8-37) Yeah you thought Jesus drooling on people was bad...

I could go on and on. It's no wonder christians try to distance themselves from this book by claiming it's just "metaphors". The second commandment is: "You shall not make for yourself an image in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below." Christians are not supposed to paint, draw or carve anything. And yet all their churches are full of images, literally breaking the second commandment. It's religion cafeteria style, pick and chose what you like. Zero actual conviction.

[dzamie-oc]

Voretober 09 - Wheel

what the hell am I supposed to do with "wheel"

Length: 1600 words Vore type: Oral vore, unwilling prey, F/M Fandom: None Other info: snake/anthro, digestion as threat Summary: A fox on the run finds a fortuitous hiding spot, and the snake in it is very friendly! Surely nothing will go wrong.

David vaulted over a fallen log, then took a tight left around a boulder, using his fluffy to counterbalance, before using it to leap across a stream. His pursuer may have been faster than him, but he knew these woods like the back of his hand. Unfortunately, that didn't mean the fox could keep it up forever, or even lose his tracker; he'd have to settle on a hiding place, but all the trees took too long to climb, the bushes were too thin, and the stream was simply too slow. Running mostly on autopilot, his limbs carried him over and around what David hoped would be a tough route to follow, while he searched his memory and sight for a big enough tree or log hollow, a cave, anything.

A looming, black shape grabbed his attention; without a better plan, David swung his arm around a thin tree and beelined for… a huge tire, laying across one of the forest's tourism nature trails. The fox inwardly grimaced at the sign of heavy industrial equipment, but decided it was ultimately a boon: worrying about future development would have to wait for him to know that his future would even exist. After one last peek over his shoulder, checking if his pursuer, and thus he, could be easily seen, David dove into the middle of the tire and shimmied into its cavity. Opaque, relatively small, and granting him shadow to hide in, a fantastic stroke of luck.

"Gah! Woah, where'd you come from?" At the new voice, David's heart thundered. Luckily, he didn't recognize it, so he at least knew who it wasn't.

Still, the fox looked around for the source, hesitant to speak up, just in case. On the slightly sunnier side of the tire, he caught the shimmer of mottled, brown scales, and as his eyes adjusted to the shade, he saw more and more of the stranger. A long snake coiled over and around herself, only barely encircled by the massive tire, with her head resting about a third of the way around from him. Scales slid against scales as she drew closer, keen curiosity in her bright yellow eyes.

This time, it was intimidation, not fear of discovery, that stayed David's tongue, so the snake flickered hers and tried again. "Not that I mind company, but I was in the middle of a nap…" she said, then turned her head to yawn; Her lower jaw wiggled back and forth before returning to normal at the end. "…hello? Foxy?"

Realizing that she expected him to speak, David finally found his voice. "I… I'm hiding from someone. I don't know for certain what will happen, but I really, really don't want to be caught." A thought struck him, and he consulted his mental map of the forest. "Has this tire been here long? I don't remember it when I passed by a few days ago."

"Oh, it's mine. A portable hide, and one not out of place nearly anywhere!" The snake tapped her head affectionately against the inner rubber. "It took a bit to learn how to roll in it, but well worth it!"

The fox sighed, relieved. "So there aren't plans to destroy this forest. Good."

"Nope, just a wandering snake. Fiona, by the way, amateur story collector."

"Huh?"

"My name. Since I figure we'll be close for a bit," Fiona replied.

"Right, sorry. I'm David… just a fox." Something piqued his curiosity. "What do you mean, story collector?"

Fiona's eyes gleamed. "I'm glad you asked! After all, it's the reason I'm even in this thing! Lay back, let me elucidate." David did so, shimmying back against several lengths of her scaly body. His paws found a convenient gap to tuck into, and then the snake continued:

"Nearly since I hatched, I loved hearing about stuff other people did - incredible sights my siblings saw, improbable battles, tales of creatures I never even thought could exist! I did what I could to remember them and retell them for my younger siblings, or those who simply weren't there to hear at the time."

A comforting pressure crept up David's ankles. "That… if you don't mind me saying, that sounds pretty normal so far."

"It was! But eventually, I realized that different creatures and people have different life stories to tell, and I'd get comparatively nowhere just by staying around where I grew up." Fiona's head drifted from one side of the tire to the other, and David's gaze followed.

"So you decided to travel and found the tire?"

The snake laughed. "Oh, no, this was only a few months ago. I started by just slithering around." As though demonstrating, her entire body shifted and undulated against itself, covering more of David's body; he thought perhaps he ought to be concerned, but he wanted to hear Fiona tell her story. "But I did decide to travel! Forests, villages, a couple streams, so many different people with so many life stories to tell. A recent favorite of mine is a bunny girl whose life story was the time she scammed a human out of two entire caskets of wi- oop, shush!"

With a blur of movement, Fiona's coils covered David completely; he was about to shout and try to free himself when, instead, he heard very familiar footsteps. Hidden so completely by the snake's body, it was only his ears that truly picked up the person he was trying so hard to avoid. Raggedy breathing, the slam of paws on rubber, and a low growl; the fox could only pray that Fiona was the only one visible. After far too much time to be comfortable, the breathing grew quieter, as did angry, heavy footsteps.

Finally, a few lengths of her scaly body parted, letting him see again. In front of him was a smiling snake, yellow eyes bright and mirthful, clearly trying her best not to laugh. Looking at her, he found it tempting to join in - but wouldn't dare having just escaped disaster. Once again, Fiona was the first to speak, in a hissing whisper, "his entire head was bright pink!"

David grinned back and nodded. "Yeah, we're not exactly friends. Now, I wouldn't kill him, but I don't know if he'd extend the same courtesy."

"Clearly. Oh, speaking of which, would you like to know why I said the bunny thing was her life story, even though it was just a day? I've got two reasons."

The fox hummed. "Is one of them philosophical, like it's a representation of their personality in just one story?"

Fiona giggled, bringing a smile to David's muzzle. "Kind of! It's more that they're all unique, at least in how they're told if not what actually happens in there. Like lives! I like your idea, though."

In spite of himself, David felt himself blush at the compliment; he told himself it was just because he was laying down that his face grew so easily hot. "Thanks, Fiona. You said two, though? What's the second?"

"I'm glad you asked!"

The serpentine smile before him vanished, instead transforming into a wide, fleshy maw, glistening with drool. David tried to pull back, but of course, her body was all around him, and there was nothing he could do as pink filled his vision, then black, as she swallowed his muzzle and head in just a few gulps. The fox tried his best to push her off, but not only did her scaly body keep his from moving too much, it even tightened when he struggled! With her throat holding his mouth closed, the closest he could manage to a cry for help was a frantic moan, one muffled by her jaws and the tire. Of course, even without it, the two of them had put so much effort into being unheard that David was certain nobody around would have been able to hear him, anyway.

Around his shoulders, the heat and wetness of Fiona's mouth replaced her cooler, dry scales. When David focused - and he tried not to - he felt her throat expand and contract, allowing her to work her way down his body. His chest and midsection were next to go, leaving his arms pinned only by her gullet, rather than her coils, not that that was any help, as a few futile struggles soon proved. As she approached his waist, part of the fox was still in denial: surely she was far too thin a snake to fit him? Clearly, Fiona would have to give up eventually. But as a discomforting dampness and pressure slipped over his hips and down his thighs, that fantasy grew weaker and weaker.

With her maw at his knees, David found the pressure around his head lessen. The air grew more acrid, but her body wasn't as tight so deep. He tried shouting for help, just in case, right before her mouth closed after his paws, sealing his doom. From there, he could do little more than wait while her body squeezed the rest of his into her stomach. The fox's eyes stung, but no tears came. And then, with her throat clear once more, the snake addressed him once more.

"You're handling this well. Anyway, more practically, I call them life stories because they're given in exchange for life!" The pep in Fiona's voice carried a far more menacing quality from the inside of her stomach, David found. "So, mister "just a fox," unless you want to take care of my lunches for the next couple weeks, I can't wait to hear yours!"

[therobotmonster]

"Nice pad."

Gorinfel looked at the Chet. It was sitting on his counter, shoving handfuls of dandelion flour into its mouth. He once again attempted to cast a glamour over the thing, but it kept munching.

"Steel plate, ding-ding." The Chet mimed knocking on its own skull but said 'ding-ding' aloud in a grating but oddly likable accent. "Iron-headed they call me, it's a good, ah, whatchacalem, meatyfor."

"It's a metaphor!"

"Ooo, gotcha to talk to me, now we're pals!" Gorinfel tried to dodge out of the way, but for a creature that small (or was it big?) the Chet moved fast, and before the Prince of Silver Twilight could shout a protest, it had his hand clasped in its flour-covered paw and was shaking it vigorously. "Nice ta meetcha can I getcha name!"

"Wh-what in Titania-" Gorinfel stammered.

"Ooo, almost gotcha! Not so funny when the foots on the udder hand, right?" The Chet slapped Gorinfel on the back in the way humans did when they like you. It was, in a word, gross. "I know ya day-to-day name, Gori, you got it written on ya doorstep."

"How can you read it? It's not visible to anyone but me."

"I'm gonna break it to ya now, I ain't too careful about what I put in my mouth." The Chet said, walking over to the panty. "That yummy flour, particularly shiny marbles, DMT, black licorice... My mom gave me colloidal silver a lot... Blame whichever one of those is convenient."

The Chet started eating a head of lettuce, whole, working around the eyes and nose as it went.

"Put that down! I wasn't planning on eating him till Sparksday!" Gorinfel lunged for the Chet, but it scurried shockingly quickly for a Chet of its variable size. Mortal things weren't consistent in Arcadia, not without help, and it left most of them too baffled and bewitched to cause much harm.

"I'd love to wanna help ya, pal!" The Chet, on the other hand, seemed to know instantly what size and orientation it would be on at any given moment. Information Gorinfel lacked, and the laughing, variably-scaled man-thing delighted in sending the elf careening this way or that. "But he's mmm-mmm too good to give up."

It went on like this for some time. Gorinfel could hear the neighbors gathering, snickering at him through the frost-glass as he failed to capture one unruly mortal within his own domain.

The time it took for Gorinfel to wind up laying on the floor, exhausted, while the currently tiny human kicked its feet from the rafters and ate the last succulent leaves of lettuce.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Gorinfel said. He thought it was a demand, but it came out as a whine. "Just let me just put you under a cup and put you back outside."

"I like you Gori. That, and I owe a lot of people a lot of money. So when I saw you walking through the woods to the mushroom ring, I just thought I'd drop in and stay with you for a bit. Just until the heat's off."

"How long is that?"

"Oh, six, seven years I figure. You got any weed?"

"YEARS!? Yours or mine?"

"Oh definitely yours." The Chet said. "They are VERY mad. I wouldn't wanna be me, I tell you what."

Gorinfel stared upward in silence.

"Look, it doesn't have to be all bad." The Chet said. He jumped from the rafters, carefully taking the route that made him fill half the dining hall when he landed with a crash. Gorinfel scrambled backward, raising his hands in feeble defense against the now ogre-sized Chet.

The immense thing reached its dusted-white hand into its coat pocket. The elf opened his mouth to scream or plead or shout, he was not sure which. He was only certain that a creature this adept, this terrifyingly prepared, was reaching for an iron spike or a club of coffin-wood to smash the life from him.

Instead, he saw that hand pull out a strange bag. It was clear as glass, but moved like cloth, and inside sloshed a thick, white liquid. Only it wasn't white. It was very nearly white. Cream, one might call that shade.

"1.3 liters of Canada's finest." The Chet said with the glee that Gorinfel recognized as his own, in a moment six centuries past when he dangled an invisibility cloak in front of some wizard or another. "Whaddya say?"

Gorinfel looked up at the bag of cream. 1.3 liters was a lot and those were presently very, very big liters. It was a momentary lapse, but it was enough. Gorinfel grabbed the bag greedily, it's size remaining stable now that it was free of the Chet's grasp. With a poke of one faun-like horn, Gorinfel made a hole and began to sup in absolute delight.

It was, indeed, Canada's finest.

"Thank you." The Chet said, offhandedly, like one might say "good day".

"You're welcome." Gorinfel replied equally offhandedly, his attention fully on his repast. He enjoyed that repast for a full three seconds more before his thoughts caught up with his words.

"I'll get my stuff." The Chet said.

"Roomie."

You know how people sometimes get a cat by just having a random stray cat with no collar and no chip walk in and sit on the couch like "yo fucknuts I live here now", and the people just go "well fuck, guess I gotta go get a litterbox then."

Now consider: Humans doing that to the fae. Not being captured by the fae folk, not taken against their will but stubbornly walking in to their realm and refusing to leave before one of them agrees to take this damn creature. Faeries telling each other "naww come on, you can't make it leave, it already ate your food. Everyone knows you gotta keep them if you've fed them."

And another faery yells back "I did not fucking feed that thing, it climbed into my pantry and was eating flour straight out of the bag!"

[shipping-all-ships]

Want to do a Corpse Bride gemshipping AU but you KNOW the instant TKB rises up from the grave with his "I do" Ryou is gonna say "jackpot" and throw the whole movie plot out the window.

[cozage]

hii!

idk if you are willing to write angst. If you are can you please write breaking up with zoro and sanji comforting you? Thank you and have a good day/night!❤

Made for Two

A/N: I DO WRITE ANGST AND I LOVE THIS PROMPT!!! THANK YOUUUUUU

Characters: gn reader x Sanji

Cw: some slightly suggestive content for a second but nothing crazy. Angst (obviously) and some great fluff/care

Total word count: 3.2k Brief Summary: You thought Zoro was the only person for you, but after a bad breakup, a certain cook attempts to cheer you up. Prologue | > Part Three | Masterlist

Set for Two

The worst thing about a breakup was the distance. Not that he was too far away, but that you were so damn close. You were trapped on a ship with your ex, and the only place you could be certain you wouldn’t see his face was your own room. 

You didn’t want Zoro to know how hard you were taking the breakup. He could make an educated guess if he cared to, since you hadn’t left your room in two and a half days. But the walls were made of Adam wood, so at least the rooms were soundproof. You got some solace in knowing that he couldn’t hear you crying yourself to sleep every night, missing his presence in your bed that seemed too large for one person. 

The rest of the crew occasionally checked in on you. Courtesy checks of awkward and base level questions. You could tell they cared, but there wasn’t really anything they could do. You just wanted to lay in bed and mourn your loss for a few days, and then you would pick yourself up and be ready to face everyone. They tried to help in the best way they could, but you just wanted to be alone. Thankfully most of them understood that.

Sanji was different though. He brought you meals, snacks, and plenty of refreshments throughout the day. He would knock twice on your door to let you know something was waiting for you, and then leave a covered tray near your room for you to grab at your convenience. Sometimes you ate it, other times you didn’t touch it. He never commented on it, he just gave you a soft double knock to know he was there. 

On the evening of the third day, it was different though. The knock came twice, waited a beat, and then it came again. 

“Go away,” your voice was hoarse, raised just loud enough for it to go through the wooden door. 

“It’s me.” Sanji’s velvet voice came from the other side. It was the first time he spoke to you since he had started bringing you food, and you found yourself curious at the change in pattern from the cook. 

“Oh.” You paused, not sure what else to say. “You can come in, I guess.”

The door softly clicked open, and Sanji clicked on the light in your room so he could see better. You squinted against the harsh brightness and ducked under a blanket. You could hear a rolling cart of sorts being moved into your room and the soft click of Sanji’s shoes walking towards you. 

“Y/N,” Sanji spoke softly, now next to you. “Let’s get up, shall we? Let’s have dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.” You mumbled. 

“You didn’t eat lunch or your afternoon snack, so I know that’s a lie.”

As if on cue, your stomach betrayed you by emitting a groan of hunger. You peeked out of the covers slightly, trying to see what dish he had prepared tonight for you. But all you could see was him. 

Sanji smirked at you, knowing his point was proven. “Come on, shower before dinner. I still have to prepare it, so go get ready.”

“But-”

“I’m going to lock that stupid marimo in his training room. So go grab some fresh clothes, I’ll meet you back here in five minutes.”

He didn’t give you a chance to object. As soon as he was finished with his statement, he ran out the door, leaving you alone again. It had been a while since you had been in your room with the light on. As you looked around, you remembered why. Some of Zoro’s things were still strewn around the room. His tank tops, a random plant you bought him to see if he could actually take care of a living thing, a few resistance stretch bands for training. After your breakup you had locked yourself in here. There hadn’t been time for him to gather his stuff, and you hadn’t returned it yet. Your heart tightens seeing the remnants of your all's love here, so minor yet so obvious that you two are together. Were together. 

You tried to push the pain out of your mind, and walked over to your dresser to grab some new clothes. You were going to opt for more pajamas, but something told you to pick out something a little less depressing. You shuffled through your drawer, settling on a casual tank top and some comfortable shorts instead. You could still lay in bed with this outfit after, but it made you look a bit more presentable then you were currently. 

A two-rapped knock came from the door, and you gathered your clothes and your bath towel. Your stomach tangled into knots at the thought of seeing anyone right now, let alone walking through the entire ship up to the bathhouse. Just the thought made you feel so vulnerable, so exposed. So alone. 

The knock came again, and you were reminded that you weren’t alone. You had Sanji. You opened the door to see the blonde leaning against the door frame, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. 

He looked at you expectantly. “You ready?”

“Can I have a drag before I go?” You’re already reaching up for his cigarette, and you can see your question shocks him. You grab it before it falls from his mouth, and you put it to your lips. You inhale long and deep, letting the smoke fill your lungs. It soothes you in a way, and you understand why Sanji smokes so often. You exhale, giving a small cough as the smoke passes through your lips into the air between the two of you. Returning the cigarette to Sanji, you start towards the door without another word. Your heart clenches as you step out onto the deck, nervous of what you’ll find when you reach the outdoors. 

You hear Sanji’s footsteps behind you, and you relax a little knowing that he’s close behind. As you walk out, your eyes glance up to the crow's nest instinctually. There’s a chain wrapped around the entire outside of the building, which must be Sanji’s work. You can’t see Zoro, but you can hear music blasting from the area, which is enough proof that he’s in there training. That’s all he ever seemed to care about these days. There wasn’t a single thing or a single person that was more important than-

“Come on.” Sanji gently grabs your arm, nudging you to turn away from the crow’s nest. You hadn’t realized you had stopped to stare, and you’re thankful for his gentle guidance to bring you back to reality. Your cheeks flush, and you pray that Zoro wasn’t near a window to see you staring. 

Sanji looped his arms through yours and walked you up the stairs. He could sense your rigid muscles, tense with anxiety. “It was just for a second,” He muttered to you. “I’m sure nobody even noticed.” 

You glance around the ship, and see that he’s right. Most of the crew hadn’t even noticed you emerging from your room, let alone saw you gawking up at the crow’s nest. You saw Nami do a double take when she realized it was you as you ascended the stairs, but she went back to her work quickly, trying to appear normal. The rest of the crew were either oblivious or not on the deck.

You had arrived at the bath house, and Sanji pulled away from you. “Will you be okay returning to your room on your own, or should I wait here?” 

“I’ll be okay, thank you though.” With a nod, he departed, leaving you alone outside the door to the bath house. 

The water burned against your skin, breathing life back into your bones. You tried to focus on the now as your washed your body clean from the past few days of despair. But your shampoo didn’t smell right without the mixture of his. The water pressure felt harsh without his body next to yours. You could feel the tears starting to form, and you were thankful for the water washing away your tears, because you didn’t have the energy to wipe them yourself. 

You stood there until the water stopped scalding your skin, and then you stood there some more. It felt like you were frozen in time, incapable of moving away from these feelings. They were as deep and dark as the ocean, and you were sure you were going to drown. And then two knocks came from the other side of the door, bringing you back to the present once again. Sanji.  

“Everything okay?” His voice snapped you into action, and you quickly turned off the shower.

“Fine!” Your voice cracked as you called out, and you prayed he didn’t notice. You quickly dried yourself off and changed into your fresh pair of clothes as fast as possible. You looked at yourself in the mirror, wiping at your swollen eyes and combing through your half washed hair. It was the best you were going to get, so you put on a half-attempted smile and opened the door to meet him. 

If Sanji noticed your messy appearance, he didn’t comment on it. He didn’t mention how long you had stayed in the shower, or that he had to come get you. He simply smiled when he saw you, and held his arm out for you to take. You took it, and resisted the urge to glance back up at Zoro’s training room again. 

The deck was eerily quiet for it being such a lovely night, and you could see the sun was setting over the horizon. You paused for a moment, watching the colors shift and change with every second. 

“Do you want to stay and watch it?” Sanji’s looking at you, but you shake your head and turn away from the view to continue walking. Watching the sunset used to be something you and Zoro would do, a small moment that you had forced him to carve out in his training routine for you. Thinking about it now made you bitter; you always had to beg for his attention and his affection. You were never at the forefront of Zoro’s mind like he was at yours. 

As you arrive at your room, you can feel Sanji start to tense with nervous energy. “I hope you don’t mind,” he says, opening the door. “I tidied up a bit.”

Tidy was an understatement. Soft, twinkling lights now lined your ceiling. It was calming, much more manageable than your fluorescent overhead lights. Zoro’s things that had been scattered across the room were all gone from sight. Your bed sheets had been changed out for fresh linens. And in the corner of the room was a low dining table with two cushions and a small candelabra in the center of it.

You’re not sure how Sanji was able to do so much in such a little time. You’re about to ask him, but Sanji ushers you over to the table to sit you down, and then begins to serve you a spread of all of your favorite dishes. Some of the food you had never even commented on how much you loved it, and yet Sanji knew what you loved. Tears began to well up, overwhelmed with the sentiment he was showing you. 

“Thank you,” you gasped out, and you had to put a hand over your mouth to stifle a sob. Your reaction startled the cook, and he bent down to be at face level with you. 

“Hey, hey,” he rubbed your back, trying to get you to calm down. “Talk to me, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing!” you reassured him, wiping at your eyes. The tears were still flowing, and you felt a little embarrassed at your surge of emotion. “This is just so perfect. This is everything I’ve ever wanted.”

He laughed softly, relieved that you were okay. “You haven’t even tried the food yet, Y/N.”

Once he had placed the spread of food in front of you, he took his place at the seat across from you. You were about to take a bite when you realized his side of the table was empty. 

He noticed you looking at him. “This is just for you,” he clarified. “I already ate.”

“It’s a table made for two. Eat with me,” you begged. “Please?”

He couldn’t refuse your request, so he grabbed a small plate and picked a few small portions off one of the trays to nibble on while you ate. 

Every bite you had was better than the last. You let out a soft moan of pleasure with every bite. “God Sanji, you have to teach me how to cook like this.”

You see a flash of surprise cross his face at your comment. “I didn’t know you were interested in cooking.”

You laughed. It was the first time you had laughed in a few days, and it felt nice to have it come so naturally. “I used to do it all the time! I loved to cook before I joined the Sunny. Not all the time, and I wasn’t exceptionally good at it, but I could follow a recipe pretty well!”

“I’d love to have you in the kitchen whenever you want to join,” Sanji smiles at you, and you can tell he’s being genuine in his offer. 

Zoro never wanted you in the training room with him. You were always some kind of distraction for him. Even when you sat silently in the corner, you always felt like you were in the way. Even if Sanji was being genuine now, you weren’t sure he would feel that way once you actually were in his space with him. 

Sanji could see you slipping back into the past, and he speaks up again, trying to bring you back to him. “We can learn whatever recipe you want. I’ll write it down and we can follow it step by step.”

You look at him, surprised by his insistence on the topic. “Maybe we can start out with a dessert?” You offer. Those usually took less time than a full meal, so it would be easier for him to kick you out if he was having a bad time. 

“I have a great macaron recipe! We should do that!”

You scoff. “Aren’t those really advanced and difficult?”

He nods, with a grin still on his face and excitement in his eyes. “Yeah, but I’m certain you can do it! If not, then we can always try something else and work our way up to it.”

You nod and finish eating the spread he’s laid out for you. A bit of hope swirls inside you, mixing with the despair and sadness that lingered over the past few days. You always wrote Sanji off as a pervert cook, and now you were wondering how much of that ideology came from Zoro’s snide comments and disdain towards the man. Sanji was kind. He was attentive, and he cared about his crew. Him and Zoro were so alike and yet so different in the strangest of ways.

“Y/N,” he says, calling your attention back to him. He always knew when you were starting to slip away. “You deserve to be treated like royalty, you know.”

Your face must’ve held a shocked expression, because his face flushed red. “I’m not saying that person needs to be me.” His words tumbled quickly out of his mouth, rushing to explain. “But you do deserve it from someone.”

He begins to pick up the plates from in front of you, ignoring the glassy look in your eyes. You furiously wipe at your face, willing your eyes to dry. You’ve cried enough today, and yet you can't will yourself to stop. 

Sanji silently pours you a cup of tea - vanilla and chamomile, your favorite before bed. He sets it in front of you, and begins to take his leave. As he reaches the door, he looks back at you, still sitting where he left you. 

“Sleep well, my dear.” 

“Sanji?” You call to him. You’re still staring at the wall, your back to him. He can’t see your face, but he can hear your voice tremble slightly. 

“Hm?”

“Can you stay here tonight?” Your face is burning and you’re thankful that you're facing away from him. “I mean, can you lay with me until I fall asleep?”

Sanji hesitates for a moment. “I can stay all night - if you’d like me to.”

“I would.”

“Let me go put these dishes away and clean up, and then I’ll be right back here. Is that all right?”

You nod in response, and pick up the teacup in front of you to take a drink. The temperature is perfect, and it’s a perfect ending to the meal you’ve just eaten. You’d expect nothing less from Sanji. 

You suspect that even the teacup had been selected specifically for you, a decision that Sanji probably spent a half an hour on. He gave so much effort to show you how much he cared. It was such a foreign concept, you felt a little nauseous thinking about it. You deserve to be treated like royalty. The words rang in your ears still. Zoro had never given much effort in your relationship, but neither had you. Maybe if you had put in the effort that Sanji put in, maybe if you had been more understanding towards Zoro, then everything would have ended differently. You could feel tears spilling out of your eyes again, and you were ashamed that you were already crying again. 

Sanji didn’t bother to knock on the door before he entered this time, and he found you still staring at the wall, tears streaming down your face. The half-drank tea was still in front of you, cold now. You furiously wiped the tears from your eyes again, trying to act like nothing happened. Sanji looked down at you with a frown, but he didn’t comment on your current state. 

“Are you ready for bed?” He offered a hand to you as he asked. 

You took his hand and stood, walking to your bed. He pulled back the covers, motioning for you to get in, and you followed his silent instructions. 

He hesitates for a second at the edge of the bed, glancing around your room. “Are you sure you want my company? I don’t want…”

“Please.” You can’t hide the desperation that seeps out of your voice. You don’t want to be alone again.

He gingerly gets into bed next to you, giving you ample space to get comfortable. You close the gap between the two of you quickly, curling up into his side. You wrap your arms around his torso, eager for the warmth of another person’s body again. Your bed was made for two, and you feel more relaxed with him next to you. 

Sanji doesn’t comment when he feels his shirt grow wet with your tears. He just silently rubs your back and holds you until you fall asleep, feeling your breathing finally slow and become even. He keeps you close through the night, silently cursing that stupid Marimo for hurting you, and vowing that he’ll do everything he can to prevent you from feeling this pain ever again. 

[luvr-bunnyy]

fresh set

FEZCO x FEM!READER

word count: 833 w

© luvr-bunnyy pls don't use my headers or writing without permission

Warnings: suggestive sexual content, NO SPOILERS!

[a/n: i got this idea cause i just got my nails done and i’m a WHORE for fez but like...who isn’t? anyways!! thank you for all the love for ‘anything for my princess’ i will def have a ton more lexi content in the future!! enjoy this short fic <3 - yours truly, bunnyy -`ღ´- ]

Fez loved spoiling you.

It was that simple. You saw a pair of shoes you liked? It’s yours. New clothes? Don’t trip ma, he’s got you.

His all time favorite thing to spend a quick buck on? Acrylics.

It was his favorite day of the week. Every two weeks on a Thursday afternoon. It was like clockwork. He’d take you to the salon and wait the hour and a half just to see the masterpiece on your finger tips.

Another thing he LOVED to buy you was jewelry. Rings specifically.

He couldn’t wait to see how you’d pair them with your new nails. He also loves seeing your fresh set against his chest or how a blunt looked in between your fingers.

The sound they made as you typed out a text on your phone. Seeing you grip the sheets as he plowed into you…

His all time favorite, you might be wondering? Seeing your hand wrapped around his dick. It drove him wild. The sight of your pretty nails contrast against his skin…fuck.

And today was that day.

His phone buzzed with a notification.

baby mama

all done !!

baby mama

i’ll be right out

He smiled, shaking his head before looking up through the windshield. Watching you through the glass double doors as you smiled at the receptionist, handing them the crisp $100 bill that he had given you before you walked in.

As you walked out, you met his eyes. Those beautiful pools of blue looked at you with so much love, it made your heart flutter.

Making your way into the car, you faced him with an excited smile, hiding your hands from him.

“Well come on then, pretty mama. Show ‘em to me.”

You gladly placed your hand into his awaiting palm. “Damn baby, these are some bad ass mother fucking claws!”

You blushed as he brought your hand up to his lips and placed a kiss on your knuckles

Fez dropped you off at his place to look after Ash while he tended to his convenience store and he had been absolutely exhausted as he closed up but as he walked through the threshold of the apartment, all stress vanished from his shoulders.

You were sat on the couch in sweats and a hoodie that was most definitely his with Ash laying next to you, his little shaved head resting on a pillow near your thighs

Ash loved when you got your nails done too because that meant heavenly head scratches.

Not that he’d ever admit it, since he wasn’t one for physical affection but he would NEVER turn down your offer of head scratches. It was like a cardinal sin to him.

You dropped your head back onto the head rest of the couch and smiled softly at Fez as he walked over, leaned over your head and placed in upside down kiss on your lips.

���He asleep?”

“Like a baby.” You responded fondly, running a hand over Ash’s buzzed head, heart warming as he sleepily nuzzled into your touch.

Making his way to the kitchen, he paused at the sight on the kitchen table. The haphazardly rubber banded stacks of money he had scattered on its surface were gone.

“Hey ma?” He called, not really waiting for you to respond. “Where’s all my cash?”

“Oh! I counted it for you and put it away in the safe. The amount should be written somewhere on the table!” You called back.

That’s when he saw a little post-it stuck to the weathered wood surface of the table. The amount written in your familiar chicken scratch.

He heard your footsteps trail up behind him. “And Ash wanted that enchilada casserole I brought you guys once so I made some. It’s in the oven to keep it war-“

You blinked and his lips were on yours, the slightly rough palms were delicately holding your face. Knees weakening at the emotion behind the kiss.

Pulling away, he pressed his forehead against yours. “I love you.” there was a small beat before he continued. “I was only gone a few hours but I missed you.”

“Yeah? D’you have a stressful day baby?” What he hadn’t expected was for you to press him against the kitchen counter. “How about I help you out then?” Your hand moved down to unbutton his jeans, reaching in and palming him over his Polo briefs.

The moan that escaped his throat was low and quiet, almost like a sigh. “Fuck…” He felt himself twitch as he felt your nails lightly raking over his clothed and aching cock.

He watched you slowly sink to your knees, keeping eye contact as you did so. Settling down on your heels, you leaned forward and tugged the rest of his clothing down, kissing his exposed hips as you did so.

“God damn ma…” He moaned, hand gripping your hair before he looked down and admired the way your fresh manicure looked wrapped around him and it took everything in him not to bust then and there.

—-

“Eww seriously guys! We fucking eat in there!” Ash stood up from the couch. Eyes squeezed tight and hands covering his ears, rushing to his room. “Y’all are fucking nasty!”

[dysfunctionalmaki]

To Realize

Main Masterlist

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Stark!Reader

Summary: Natasha's been connecting all the dots about how she feels about you, it's up to her to how she'll handle the situation.

A/N: This was supposed to be a oneshot until... I wanted to base it on the whole Black Widow movie :"))

Warnings: none, let me know if there's any.

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Your last interaction with your father didn't go well, he simply told you that Secretary Ross is now after you and Natasha after helping Steve, and Bucky to get in the Quinjet while T'challa was after them.

Quickly tackling the king of Wakanda on the ground, while Natasha shot something at him to give Rogers and his friend time to take off, as soon as the jet flew away, you removed your arms that are restraining him.

"Your father will hear about this, and you too Miss Romanoff." The exact words that came out of T'challa, and now you're on the run with Natasha, considered as a global fugitive.

Your father looked at you with disappointment when he mentioned that Ross will be chasing you and the latter, you looked at Natasha before she took your hand and leading you out, taking you to who knows where.

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"You miss your daddy?" Natasha spoke while driving, you chuckle at her words then resting your head against the car window. "Hmm, kinda, so what are we doing here in Norway?" You ask the latter.

"Well, you've noticed that Ross is after our asses after assaulting the King of Wakanda, and helping Steve and Barnes escape the airport, I believe we should lay low, right?" She propped her elbow by the window, resting her head on her knuckle as she drives with one hand. "Oh? I didn't know that." You replied sarcastically, making Natasha roll her eyes.

"What I mean is, why Norway of all places?" Now you're kindly asking, arms crossed over your chest and slowly drifting off to sleep, exhausted after hours of traveling, without Daddy's private planes, sports car, and Quinjet also.

Natasha noticed how your voice softens, a long yawn coming out of your mouth, and quickly glancing at you. "Ross has no jurisdiction here, his boys would stay away from here for the time being." She answered, you softly nodded and replied with an 'okay' almost a whisper with how silent it was.

In a split second, you're already fast asleep at the passenger seat, both arms hugging yourself and your head resting against the window. Nat maintained her eyes on the road as she attempts to reach for a blanket she stashed in the backseat, after few shifts in her place, the Russian managed to grab the cloth.

She gently placed the soft blanket over you, and now focusing herself on driving, for some reason, she has always felt this warm feeling in her heart when she's alone with you, adoration maybe?

Your peaceful state while you're in deep slumber, and hearing your soft snores as she admires the view of the landscape, she would offer everything she has just to stay like this most of the time.

The thought caught her off-guard, why would she want to spend all of her time with her friend's daughter? She shrugged the thought off from her mind, she knows what love feels like, she felt it with Bruce until Hulk decided to drive off somewhere they won't find him.

She did get sad because of it, but she chose to move forward and move on, successfully removing any romantic feelings for Banner, focusing on her work as an Agent and an Avenger.

But why is she feeling this way with you? Her heart melts when she sees you getting all excited when you've successfully upgraded your techs, how she would automatically smile when her eyes would catch you smiling, and how she feels warm when you're there to ease her mind when a mission didn't go as planned.

She's now connecting the dots, using the silence and peace surrounding her, she got time to think about herself and her feelings towards Tony Stark's daughter.

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After half an hour of the drive, you slowly wake up from your nap, looking around the surroundings you're in the middle of the woods, Natasha's still driving. "Good uhh... Evening?" You greeted Nat with your groggy voice.

Natasha stopped the car beside the safehouse, which is a caravan and you don't mind, you can't really call your father to get you a 5-star hotel to stay in. "Did you manage to replenish your energy?" She asked, unbuckling her seat belt and you did the same.

Getting out of the car, she has her gun out and you also have one on your hand, staying alert until both of you heard a loud snore in the room. Natasha immediately returned to her relaxed posture before heading into where the sound belongs, and she found her contractor sleeping.

Kicking his foot that is off the bed, the man immediately woke up. "You're sleeping in my bed." Natasha commented, "I'm not even under the covers." He replied, then his eyes trail at you, awkwardly looking away noticing that the two seemed close.

"I've got what you asked for, fake IDs, drivers licenses, and some VISAs, also for Miss Stark too, just like what you've told me to do." He says as he handed out the fake identifications to Natasha, while reading, the Russian frowned upon what she just read. "Really? Fanny Longbottom?"

"That is a legitimate name." He defended himself, them Natasha handed your fake IDs, taking a good look at them and you're amazed about how real they seem to be. "Thank you...?" You softly spoke.

"Rick, Rick Mason." He introduced himself, and you shook his hand also introducing yourself, with little chit-chat soon after the man left leaving you and Natasha alone.

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An hour has passed it's already dark out, you're currently sitting by the front door, knees up to your chest, and you already felt homesick, Natasha's company is nice honestly, but the feeling of being far away from your father and home sucks.

Natasha looks at you while you're way too busy gazing at the woods, she knows you aren't used to this type of setup, running away from authorities, and far from home, she felt bad for you.

She walks up behind you, making sure you're aware of her presence before placing a hand on your shoulder. "I'm going to watch a movie on my laptop, feel free to join me, I'm also eating the ice cream we bought at the convenience store earlier." She softly spoke before leaving you alone.

Minutes after, you finally stood up from where you are sitting and closing the front door, almost dragging your way to Natasha. Two bowls of ice cream in front of her, and her laptop already on, she was waiting for you.

You placed yourself beside her, head resting on her shoulder then she plays the movie on the screen, lazily taking a spoonful of the cold treat in your mouth, and eyes glued on the screen, but you weren't paying attention to the movie, you're spacing out.

"Hey, Y/N? Are you okay?" Of course, not, Natasha knows damn well you aren't okay, she thought that it's a dumb question. "Of course, why wouldn't I be?" You answered just like your father, she paused the film and causing you to look at her. "No, you're not okay, and that's okay." She says before taking you into her arms.

You're surprised actually, Natasha isn't usually the one who initiates physical contact but here she is, her arms wrapped around your body. You needed this, you needed to feel home and somehow being hugged by Natasha feels like it.

Burying your face at her shoulders then you knew you're melting in her arms, it almost brought the tears out of you, as if her touch is enough the lift the burden you've been feeling.

Natasha feels like home.

You try not to think anything about the affection she just gave, but damn, you think you'd go batshit crazy if you won't get to experience this again.

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Let's be clear here, you've had a crush on Natasha while she's still Natalie, then as soon as Fury revealed that she is some secret agent, you were so amazed that you started liking her, though she didn't contact after that.

You weren't part of the Avengers initiative, but you did join them in the battle of Sokovia, but she and Banner have a thing going on, so you've decided to set those feelings aside. Which you successfully did for a few months, and after Bruce flying who knows where maybe you can make a move?

So you did, you would jokingly flirt around Natasha, and your father would give a questioning look then you slowly back away, but you were also a great friend to Nat, it's just that you can't seem to get all romantic with Natasha.

Just as much of a playboy your father is, that's all his, you suck at this type of thing, so Nat probably thought you're just a caring and affectionate person.

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You gently pull away from Natasha's grasp, and she looks at you with her emerald eyes. "Better?" She asked, placing a hand on your cheek softly caressing your skin. "Much better, thank you." She smiled with your answer, the next thing you know is that you're way too close to her, and you're looking at her plump lips.

This would be a perfect time to make a move.

You hold the back of her hand that is on your cheek, slowly closing in, and Natasha is leaning closer, so near that you could feel each other breathing, just when your lips were about to touch hers... the power died.

Nat cleared her throat and awkwardly moving away, removing her hand away from you and she stood up. "I'm just going to check the power generator." She says before going outside.

Her face turned red as soon as she was out of your sight, she got way too vulnerable with you, she almost kissed you but she sure knows she's going to like it but no, not at a time like this.

She tried to get the power back on, only to find that there's no more fuel in the generator, she came back inside finding you eating ice cream in the corner, and probably waiting for her to come back.

"I'm going to a gas station, do you want to come with me?" She asked, you nodded before getting off your ass and bringing yourself into her car, there's this awkward tension between the two of you, and as soon as she started driving, the silence swallowed the two of you.

"Can I turn the radio on?" You asked her, she simply nodded while eyes fixated on the road, you played the radio, and Sia's Cheap Thrills came on. "Damn, even here? When is this song going to die?" You commented.

Natasha taps her fingers on the steering wheel according to the beats, despite hearing the song over and over whenever you would turn on the radio, you still liked it.

Midway through the song, you felt chills on your body, and as soon as you look at the window beside you, suddenly you see an RPG heading towards the car.

"Nat—" Before she could react it has already hit the car causing an explosion, now the vehicle is hanging on the edge of the bridge, and with one wrong move it'll head straight down to the water. "Ooh, fuck that hurts." Hissing as you try to collect yourself and trying to fight the headache it caused.

Natasha on the other hand is in pain and boy, she's mad. "I'm pretty sure Ross has no jurisdiction here, and you should know that I'm a better shot when I'm pissed off," Nat spoke before firing few bullets at the person, you look at her and biting your lip, finding her hot.

"Wow, that's hot..." You spoke under your breath but Natasha heard, glaring at you. "Really? At a time like this?" She says, before heading out of the car when you tried to get out Nat stopped you. "How long can you hold your breath?" She asked. "Last time I beat Sam it was a good 4 minutes and a half."

"As soon as this psycho comes close enough, I'll push you into the water, it's not after us." She says you look at her as if she's speaking lies. "Nat, I'm not leaving you here–" before you could protest, you felt her lips against yours it was quick but you know damn well, that Natasha kissed you.

"I'll meet you down there, I promise." She says before a shield comes charging towards her, and managed to avoid it, yet it hit the car, now you're falling off the bridge and you suddenly noticed a small case on her hand.

You quickly got out of the car before it could hit the water, then you swam heading to safety where the one who ambushed wouldn't see you.

Closing your eyes hoping that Nat would come back to you in one piece, there's no way you'll let her die after kissing you, of course, you wanted to fight but your body just wouldn't.

You can't risk losing Natasha now.

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Next Part: To Remember

[from-a-reckless-writer]

dove down my rabbit hole of wips and one of my wips isnt a wip anymore! so here, have some gay shit....

“Kelly wants to get married in the woods, I want to get married in Midvale. So, apparently, our wedding will just happen via Zoom. Her in the woods, me at the beach. Ain’t that just fucking grand?”

Alex comes through the door like a hurricane covered in leather. Her helmet lands on Kara’s counter loudly. Her keys haphazardly thrown somewhere in the general direction of the bowl by the door.

“Then have two weddings.”

Alex follows the voice and her eyes zero in on her sister’s best friend.

Lena is sitting on the floor of Kara’s apartment, wearing an oversized sweater. Her dark hair spilling down her shoulders softly. A hand wrapping around a wine glass, the other typing on her laptop, not even jumping in the slightest at the commotion that is Alex’s entrance.

Alex plops down on the couch sighing loudly, not even batting an eye at this utterly domestic scene that is her sister washing the dishes with Lena Luthor on the floor of her apartment.

Lena doesn’t comment at the Danvers’ Sisters antics and Alex doesn’t call them out on the ridiculousness that Lena and Kara are still keen on keeping up.

The three of them already well desensitized to one another’s preferred brand of bullshitery.

“You know, sometimes I forget you're a rich-ass bitch and then you say shit like that and suddenly, I remember,” Alex says, smoothly snatching the wine from Lena’s hand.

She finishes the entire glass in one gulp and Lena rolls her eyes. Alex had finally proposed to Kelly the other week and well, that meant this week all of them had fallen victim to the Olsen-Danvers wedding debacle. It seems today isn’t the day that that whole dilemma is going to stop.

The wedding, of course, was still a few months away, but both parties were stressing about it as if it was going to happen immediately the next day.

Kara swoops in then, mussing up Alex’s hair, earning her an annoyed Hey stop it! before putting down another wine glass and pouring for Lena. Her arms are still wet from washing the dishes.

Lena murmurs her thanks and continues what she was saying, “Well, since you’ve finally remembered that I’m a billionaire. Let me pay for two weddings.”

Alex chokes on the wine.

“What? You’re kidding me, right?”

Lena continues typing, ignoring Alex’s shock, you’d think she didn’t just offer to pay for a wedding.

“Well, I mean, I’m never gonna get married,” Lena explains, “but if you let me do this, I can brag around that I’ve paid for two weddings. Not to mention I’m gonna make two brides very, very happy.”

“Or,” Kara interjects, lowering herself on the opposite side of the couch, perfect for Lena to lean back between Kara’s legs and lay her head on the side of her thigh. “You can just wait for Kelly to get here,” Kara says, pointedly. “Talk it out like normal adults and reach a compromise.”

Kara’s hands start to snake their way from Lena’s hair to Lena’s shoulders, massaging, all too aware that Lena won’t stop whatever it is she’s working on on her laptop till everybody gets here.

Lena lets herself melt and closes her eyes, sighing as Kara’s fingers dip at the junction of her neck and shoulder with just the right amount of pressure.

“I don’t wanna get married in the woods, Kara.”

Lena opens one eye to take a peek at Alex, who looks exasperated, her eyes pleading, gulping down another glass of wine.

“Don’t tell me,” Kara replies. “Tell Kelly.”

“The bugs, Kara,” Alex moans. “Imagine the bugs, and the moss and the ughhh.”

She dramatically thumps the back of her head on the couch.

“Imagine the soil. Clumpy wet soil. Eurgh. Ew. What if I fall face first in that? What if I trip over a stupid tree root in my heels? In my wedding dress?!”

“Alex, you don’t even have a dress yet,” Kara deadpans.

“I thought you were gonna wear a suit,” Lena adds.

“You two suck.” Alex pouts.

****

The rest of their friends arrive and Kara finally succeeds in prying Lena’s work laptop away from her. Alex was already teasing the line from tipsy to drunk by the time Kelly comes through the door.

“Let’s get married in Vegas!!!!” Is how Alex decides to greet her fiance.

Kelly laughs, gives her a peck then answers, “As much as that sounds like a very convenient wedding, I don’t think Eliza would appreciate that, baby.”

Alex frowns at being rejected, sags against the couch and crosses her arms. Why does Kelly always have to be right?

“How much has she had to drink?” Kelly turns to Kara.

“Uhh ask Lena. She made her switch to whiskey.”

Lena—who Kelly thinks was way too busy nuzzling against Kara’s neck to even answer her question—mumbles something that sounds like “S’was just two glasses.”

Kelly just shakes her head, makes Alex drink a glass of water. Her ring making a clink against the glass.

“Alright, what if,” Nia sing-songs, eyes sparkling with mischief, “we just settle this whole wedding thing with Charades?”

Nia claps her hands together like some gameshow host and Kelly takes a deep breath through the nose.

She’s been to enough Game Nights to know where this is headed.

Everybody else was intoxicated enough to accept the suggestion as a grand idea, not at all even thinking that: Hey, isn’t this something we should all take seriously?? Maybe ask the brides what they want, maybe???

Kara nods enthusiastically, agreeing immediately, “Oh!! That’s a great idea! Fun and fair at the same time!”

“Olsen vs. Danvers. Brides get to pick their teams.”

Nia pulls a white board out of nowhere, uncaps a marker and writes “Team Danvers”, “Team Olsen” separated by a neat line in the middle.

“Are we really letting Nia take charge of our wedding venue?" She hears Alex whisper from where she has her tucked at the crook of her neck.

Kelly sneaks a glance at the chaos happening before their eyes; Brainy already claiming to be on Kelly’s team, J’onn shaking his head opting to be the game scorer instead and refusing to participate, somebody’s shouting about: NIA, DREAM PROJECTIONS AT CHARADES IS CHEATING!!!!

Guess this is their life now.

Kelly smirks, boops Alex on the nose and says, “Scared you’ll lose, Danvers?”

****

Alex loses by three points.

“How was I supposed to know you were gesturing 'Transformers'!?!” She barks at Kara, throwing her hands in exasperation.

“I pointed at Nia!” Kara huffs, incredulous at the fact that her sister is blaming her.

Nia lost them a point too!

“What does Nia even have to do with it???” Alex’s voice grows higher in pitch. Her brows furrow in a mix of confusion and frustration.

“Trans, Alex. Trans.”

“Oh my God,” Alex groans. “How are you this dumb?”

And that was the story of how Kelly got her dream wedding.

****

The frenzy finally dies down, some time between Nia making up another drinking game and J’onn making her sit back down. A movie that none of them were watching provides a background noise to the almost lazy atmosphere. Kelly and Alex were pressed close on the far end of the couch, enjoying the temporary quiet.

“Guess we’re getting married in the woods, huh?” Alex murmurs.

“I guess we are,” Kelly whispers back. Alex beams at her, grinning dopily at the thought of finally getting the ending they deserve. It would be the perfect day, she has no doubt about that. No matter where they are. It would be perfect because they got there together.

Alex can’t wait.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing.”

Alex continues to smile stupidly, nudges her nose to Kelly’s.

“Just— I don’t really care where we get married, I guess.”

“Oh yeah?” Kelly raises an amused brow at her.

“Mm-hm. So long as you’re the one walking down the aisle.”

Alex presses their lips together, breathes Kelly in deep and for the first time that night, she feels that the future isn’t so scary, even though there is still a very large possibility that she might trip over a tree root on her wedding day.

Somebody interrupts their kiss.

“She’s only saying that ‘cos she lost.”

“Shut up, Luthor.”

****

“Text me when you get home!”

Lena hears Kara call loudly after her sister, before closing the door. Game Night has officially ended and as usual she’s still here. She’ll always be here, she thinks for a brief moment. The thought holding more depth than it should.

Kara didn’t even question her when everybody began filing out and Lena just started picking up the discarded dirty plates and walking them to the sink. They’re well past the point of asking each other if the other would stay over.

It was already some unspoken rule.

Already well past the point of Lena wanting to ask Kara what the hell it is they’re doing.

She’s bent over the sink, scrubbing—Kara doesn’t own a dishwasher for the sole reason that she finds doing the dishes therapeutic—when Lena takes a glance over her shoulder.

Kara is sitting on a high stool near the counter, casually flicking through her phone. It was Lena’s turn to do the dishes tonight. Once upon a time her doing the dishes would have resulted in a fight. “I can superspeed the dishes. Why would you even want to do them?” A statement that would be met with an eye roll.

Kara has learned not to fight her on it again, after around the 7th time that Lena had stubbornly insisted and Supergirl got doused with dishwashing liquid.

And now, it’s become some sort of routine, Kara does the dishes after lunch and Lena does the dishes after dinner. Oh, how the paparazzi would kill for this—Lena Luthor Knows What A Sponge Is?

“Is it true when you told Alex you’re never going to get married?”

Kara decides to break their quiet.

“Yeah, pretty certain about that one, why?” Lena turns around, cocks a curious brow. If she’s being honest she’s beyond certain that she’s not going to get married. She always jokes about how she’s married to L-Corp but it isn’t till now that she realizes how true that is, and...how lonely.

“I don’t know,” Kara murmurs, not meeting Lena’s eyes. “I just like the idea of you getting married, I guess.”

“What?” Lena chuckles at that; genuinely confused but still curious.

“Well, I mean—” Kara wobbles through her words.

“I guess, I just— I like the idea of you walking down the aisle...in a white dress,” Kara muses.

Then, “Or a suit!!” she quickly amends. “If you wanna wear a suit, that is. That can totally be arranged, you know?” Kara waves her hand around and it’s like now that she’s started, she can’t stop.

And Lena’s just standing there, water still dripping from her elbow, unsure of how to feel about Kara imagining her getting married. Quite an incredulous scene isn’t it? Her getting married? What a crazy thing to say, an even crazier scenario to imagine!

She snaps out of it, realizing Kara’s still rambling.

“I have no objections whatsoever with that, if you wanna wear a suit. And yeah, you know? I just— I like that idea. I like the idea of you dancing to your wedding song. The idea of you exchanging your vows, the idea of you-”

“Kara,” Lena decides to put a stop to it, since it’s clearly evident Kara won’t be stopping any time soon. And Lena's feeling way too many things that she doesn’t want to feel at the moment. She’s sure that she’s going to feel more, if she doesn’t put a stop to it herself.

“I’m well aware that it’s the best friend’s job to help with the bride’s wedding,” She says, “but, darling don’t you think you’re putting just a bit too much effort into this? Certainly seems like you’ve thought about it a lot.”

At that, Kara’s cheeks turn a light pink, squirming sheepishly under Lena’s questioning gaze.

Shouldn’t Kara be thinking about her own wedding? How beautiful she would look walking down the aisle. How her blonde hair would look so nicely with her dress. How happy she would finally be after finding someone she could share her life with. Not that Lena's been thinking about those kinds of things. No, of course not. That’d be hypocritical of her at this point. Why would she even— Why were they even talking about this again???

Lena tries to rein in it, tries to focus on Kara again; hands finally finding a dry towel, hesitantly walking into Kara’s space to hear the blonde more clearly.

“Well, I mean- Like I said, I do really like the idea of you getting married,” Kara repeats herself slowly.

And before Lena can come any closer, “Like the idea of you getting married…to me. More specifically,” Kara adds more quietly.

“What?”

Lena stands frozen.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard y- Kara, did you just?”

Lena’s heart is pounding away in her chest. Did she hear her right? Did Kara really just—

Lena’s a step away from her and Kara uses this to her advantage. She pulls Lena closer, tugging at her wrist, the towel dropping from Lena’s hands. Kara summons enough willpower to stare into Lena’s eyes.

“I like the idea of you getting married to me, Lena Luthor.”

“Kara, I’m sorry- What?” Lena jerks away from her, the words finally landing.

“Is that a no?”

Kara lets her go. She can’t focus on Lena’s heartbeat to assess the situation more. Kara’s own heart is betraying her, drumming so loudly in her ears.

“Uh- no, that's definitely not a no?” says Lena hesitantly, eyes wide, breathing nervously. She turns away from Kara for a minute to take a breath, hands fidgeting about.

She whirls around again to face, mutters, “You do realize marriages are for people who are—”

She pauses.

How do you exactly phrase that wedding proposals are for people who are actually in some kind of romantic relationship? And not for people who casually stay over every goddamn Thursday without fail?And okay, maybe sometimes, in a much different reality, would willingly commit fratricide to save the other? And in an also much different reality, willingly expose a secret identity to save the other?

Lena can’t find the right words.

“Oh, I don’t know, Kara,” Lena scoffs, shaking her head disbelievingly. “Marriage is for people who are actually dating each other.”

Kara takes her sarcasm as a good sign and pulls her in again.

“Well,” Kara begins. She can hear Lena’s heart thumping erratically, now that Kara’s gotten her bearings.

“We can always have our first date after the wedding, right?”

Aren’t they well past the point of dating anyway?

She’s got Lena standing between her legs now, her hands wrapping around her waist.

“First date and honeymoon all in one. That sounds great, doesn’t it? I can fly you wherever you want, Paris, Maldives, hell I even have a Fortress in the Arctic, if you’re into that.”

Lena stares at her, blinks once, twice; shakes her head and lets out a noise between a laugh and a scoff.

“Kara Zor-El, you are one ridiculous woman,” She breathes, putting a hand on Kara’s cheek. Because what else is there to say? This whole conversation really is ridiculous. But at the same time Lena feels like she’s floating? Like this may be the best moment of her life, and of course, it’s going to be ridiculous. This is Kara she’s dealing with, after all.

She doesn’t know what she’s going to do if Kara reveals this to be just some sort of joke.

But the way her blue eyes are piercing through Lena’s, so earnest and so warm, argues otherwise.

“So, what do you say? Wanna get married?”

“Are you serious right now?” Lena asks, still unbelieving. This is beyond crazy. They’ve fought aliens and monsters and traveled through time but this? This is just beyond crazy.

“Lena, do I look like I’m joking? And besides, you’d already offered to pay for two weddings, why not pay for our two weddings, instead?”

She shakes her head again, let’s herself fall closer to Kara, lets out a laugh against her neck.

“Mm. You want a Kryptonian ceremony too?”

“Yeah.” Kara’s voice turns shy. “If that’s alright by you.”

“Of course, that’s alright by me. I’d be honored.”

Her heart feels more than full at the thought of Kara wanting to share that part of her with Lena. She’s always had some doubts whenever the topic of Kara’s Kryptonian heritage arises, always half-afraid she’s overstepped on something that isn’t hers.

But looks like there was nothing to fear all along.

“So, we’re getting married, huh?” Kara wiggles her brows, her face breaking into a wide grin.

“Yes. Mm-hm,” Lena hums against her. “I do. I’d marry you. Let’s get married.”

“Seal it with a kiss?"

****

“Hi.”

Lena blearily opens her eyes, follows the soft voice, her bare back being caressed by the sun filtering through Kara’s curtains.

“Hi,” She whispers back. All this feels much too like a fever dream. She’s half-tempted to pinch herself just to check. She’s woken up beside Kara a million times before but she’ll never get used to the sight of soft golden hair and sleepy blue eyes.

Kara gives her a soft peck and the feel of her lips sends Lena reeling.

The previous night was a whirlwind in her mind’s eye. The moment Lena murmured her 'Yes, please.', Kara kissed her passionately. Once they broke away, Kara had zipped around the apartment, Lena too dazed to even ask what it was Kara was looking for.

She watched as Kara tore off a keychain from one of her bags, curled the keyring to fit Lena’s finger and whispered, “This’ll do. For now.”

Kara had kissed her knuckles reverently, her lips making Lena’s blood sing in her veins. The feel of mangled metal fitted just for her left hand is an imprint on her soul. A promise of more to come.

They didn’t make it out of the kitchen the first time. Kara had lifted her by the waist and set her down on the kitchen counter. Which was a good thing, because Lena couldn’t feel her legs after.

They didn’t make it to the bedroom the second time either. She had tackled Kara onto the couch, pinning her wrists together, licking at the shell of Kara’s ear. “My turn now,” Lena had whispered. The way Kara shivered underneath her was enough of a reward. How long had they been waiting for this?

Flashes of last night had her hips bucking slightly unto Kara’s leg sandwiched between her own, but before it could escalate further...

“I have exciting news to share,” Kara tells her.

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm,” Kara hums, now nosing at Lena’s hair.

“What is it?” Lena asks.

“I’m getting married.”

“Oh you are?” Lena plays along.

“Yes. I’m getting married to my best friend,” whispers Kara, almost conspiratorially. “How cool is that?”

Kara looks giddy with excitement and Lena knows she’s mirroring that exact same expression right now.

“Mm. Very cool, darling.”

Kara giggles and they trade more lazy kisses before Lena breaks away to breathe.

“Quite a coincidence though,” Lena husks out against Kara’s lips.

“Oh really? Why?” Kara asks, tries to keep a serious neutral face despite her nose scrunching up in that cute smile that Lena can’t resist

“I’m also getting married,” Lena confides, “To my best friend," she adds, eyes flashing. "Isn’t that great?”

“Very great.” Kara nods slowly, blonde hair falling into her face, a hand running through dark tresses.

“I love you,” Lena whispers, her lips brushing Kara’s softly.

“I love you, too.” Kara kisses her harder then, her hands lazily wandering along Lena’s skin.

They lie there quietly for a few moments, basking in the morning glow and then, “Alex will kill us.”

Lena snorts, twists in the sheets and says, “I think your sister is too busy planning her wedding to even think about plotting our murder.”

read follow-up here.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Mind of a Child

Prompt: Ok so to make for all the Roman Angst I've requested heres some minor angst/fluff. Again I apologise for all the Roman Angst I've been requesting. Prompt: Roman was a mess. You see there's something that happens to sides if they reach a breaking point that they can't handle. Logan was lucky he finally realized it was time to talk about his feelings and look after himself after the wedding but Roman didn't. So after he sinks out from that awful conversation he finds himself beginning to feel really dizzy and as if he's getting younger and smaller. The next morning when Patton and Janus go to find Roman and comfort him they don't expect to see a five year old curled up in an oversized prince costume terrified to death. So there's only one solution to show how much all the sides value and care for their little Prince, help him destress and look after himself. - meltheromanstan

Fluff and angst time, m'dudes

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-doubt, self-esteem issues, but it all gets cuddled better

Pairings: found family ain't going anywhere

Word Count: 6047

He wants to go back to the way it was.

He just wants to go back.

He just wants to be loved again.

He wants to go back to the way it was.

Roman sinks out and lands hard in his room, bashing his knee against the wall as he crumples to the floor. His hair protests as he tangles his hands in the strands and yanks, trying to think. He lies on the ground, frantically breathing but his lungs won’t inflate properly and his nose starts to burn. He feels nauseous. Is he sick? He turns on his back and it goes away. Humming. You’re supposed to hum when you feel like this. He starts humming something, some parody song that’s stuck in his head. The twitching in his gullet starts to recede only to be replaced by dizziness. Why is he dizzy? He’s on the floor.

His hands flop limply out to the side as he turns back and forth, trying to make sure that he can breathe, that it won’t hurt, what’s happening to him?

A small voice that sounds like a demented version of Remus—a more demented version of Remus—whispers that he deserves this.

But Roman doesn’t know anything anymore and he’s so tired and he just wants things to go back to the way they were.

When there wasn’t so much to worry about aside from making sure Thomas was happy and that he could dream.

When all he had to think about was not hurting Thomas with his dreams and making them good dreams.

When heroes were good and villains were bad and that was it.

He just wants to go back.

He just wants to be loved again.

The lights in his room are too bright. It hurts to keep looking up. So he won’t. He closes his eyes and the dizziness abates, just slightly. He lies on the floor, the cool wood pressing into his back. He lets his head flop from one side to the other. It’s impossible to get comfortable. It’s so loud. It’s so much. He wants someone here with him. He just wants to be told it’s okay. But it isn’t okay. It hasn’t been okay for a very long time.

He wants it to be okay again.

————————

The Mindscape is quiet. Hardly anyone makes a noise as they move about the rooms, some still too on edge to start making peace, some too nervous about sparking another disaster, some too confused to try and navigate the minefield they’ve all found themselves in.

But everything has to start somewhere.

Patton and Janus are the only two on…pretty much alright terms when the morning comes. Virgil is locked in his room. Remus’s brand of chaos is nothing helpful right now. So the two of them take a deep breath and go try to find Roman.

Patton took far too long to put the words to it and Janus would never admit it, but when Roman isn’t around, or when he’s not talking, it’s much harder to cut through the monotony of silence. For better or worse, the prince is impossible to look away from, impossible to ignore. And yes, maybe that has to do in part with how Creativity and the Mindscape work together, not to mention the manifestation of the Sides, but Roman is Roman. And if they’re going to start making any progress on getting back on their feet and getting back to normal, they need to get Roman back.

Patton probably thought that Roman would be easy to apologize to. Not just because it’s worked in the past—although Janus would hiss if he said that wasn’t part of it—but because he knows he’s the one who messed up. Roman likes sincerity, Patton knows what things went wrong, he knows he’s at fault here, a lot, and it won’t be as easy as one apology and everything will be fixed, but it would be a good start.

Janus knows Roman. For better or worse, he knows Roman. Knows what buttons to push, knows when not to push them—or so he thought—and knows that maybe, just maybe, he might be able to do what Patton can’t. Cite the good of the others, the good of Thomas, possibly even the good of Roman if he’s that stubborn. Or he’s a convenient punching bag if Roman needs to lash out before he can start putting the pieces back together if it needs to come to that.

But that’s not what happens.

What happens is Patton knocks lightly on the door and asks if Roman would let them come in. There’s no response. Janus speaks up, says he knows Roman is in there, please, they do just want to talk. Patton sets his hand on the door, just to rest there, maybe coax Roman to come to open it, when it swings open.

Their mouths run dry as it opens fully to reveal Roman’s costume on the floor in a heap.

And no Roman.

Janus muffles a curse and turns in a swirl of black fabric as Patton rushes inside, dropping to his knees by the abandoned costume and searching frantically for any sign of Roman.

What he finds makes him gasp.

Janus whirls around as quickly as he’d turned away to see Patton there, kneeling on the ground next to a tiny child clutching Roman’s sash like a red blanket.

“H-hey, kiddo,” Patton says carefully, trying to regain his composure, “what are you doing here?”

The child shuffles. “It’s my room.”

“This is Roman’s room,” Patton says as Janus carefully closes the door.

The child nods, rubbing the sash across his chin. Patton’s brows furrow as he watches the child’s gaze dart to Janus and back, then to Patton’s hands on his knees. He looks back up at Patton and clutches the sash tighter.

“Do you know where Roman is, kiddo?” The child nods but doesn’t make eye contact. “Can you tell me where?”

The child nods again but doesn’t say anything. The tip of Janus’s tongue starts to tingle. His eyes widen and he starts to walk over, raising his hands when the child’s gaze snaps to him.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says, crouching down to make himself a little smaller, “I’m just coming over to you.”

The child stays very still as Janus crouches down beside Patton. Janus tilts his head back and forth as he considers the way the child clings to the sash, the way he seems to be somewhat engulfed in the remains of the costume, and the way he keeps looking fearfully between Janus and Patton.

“…Roman?”

Roman’s gaze turns to him and Janus could cry.

“Wait—Roman?” Patton gasps and his hands fly to cover his mouth. “Oh, kiddo, what happened? Are you okay?”

“Don’t overwhelm him,” Janus warns under his breath as they watch poor Roman flinch a little. Patton takes a deep breath and softens his voice.

“Hey, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to scare you. We won’t hurt you, we promise.”

Roman’s grip on the sash doesn’t waver but his eyes lose a little bit of their frightful sheen. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

Janus takes off his glove, ignoring Patton’s look and—perhaps—the fact that Roman might not remember what this means. “I promise too.”

Roman looks back and forth between them. “…okay.”

Patton smiles and lets out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness. He does have to restrain himself from reaching and pulling the cute little prince into his lap but Roman’s normally defined face is now all chubby cheeks and puppy dog eyes and—no. No.

“Are you okay, kiddo,” he asks instead, still careful to keep his voice soft, “are you hurt at all?”

Roman shakes his head, still clutching the sash.

“What about in here,” Janus asks, laying his hand on his head, then his chest, “or here?”

Before Roman can answer, however, his stomach growls loudly. Janus chuckles.

“That’s enough of an answer for me. Shall we get you something to eat, little prince?”

Roman shakes his head so hard he almost knocks himself over. “Not a prince!”

They both freeze.

Not…not a prince?

Roman is The Prince. He’s Princey. The Prince of Thomas’s Dreams.

“What do you mean, ‘not a prince,’ kiddo?”

“Not a prince,” Roman insists, staring at the ground, “couldn’t—I couldn’t be a prince so…I had to start over.”

Something tugs at a dark place in their chests. Patton glances at Janus. Janus shakes his head slowly.

“Okay, then, Roman,” he says instead, “but can we get you something to eat?”

Roman glances around at the mess of the costume around him. “Clothes?”

“I’m sure someone as creative as you can make as many clothes as you like,” Janus smiles, watching carefully to see Roman’s reaction.

Roman looks at Patton. “What do I make?”

Patton’s smile slips a bit. “Whatever you want, kiddo.”

Roman frowns. “But what do I make?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have to tell me.”

Oh. Oh, dear. Patton’s smile fades, replaced with a slowly growing awareness of what’s going on. “You don’t need my permission, kiddo,” he says firmly, leaning down a little so Roman’s eye level is the same as his, “you are allowed to make what you want to make. What makes you happy.”

“What is that?”

Patton is going to cry.

“Why don’t you make what you think would be the most comfortable,” Janus tries, shooting a glance at Patton and laying a hand on his arm, “maybe to go downstairs and get something to eat in?”

Roman thinks for a moment, then he rubs the sash against his cheek and a t-shirt and shorts appear. But they aren’t red. They’re just grey. Janus smiles and stands.

“There you go,” he says, “well done.”

And oh, if the way Roman’s head jerks up in a quick moment of shameless eagerness doesn’t make that smile a little more sincere. He holds out a hand to the little one and Roman takes it, standing slowly as they begin to lead him out of his room.

“What would you like to eat,” Patton asks as they get Roman sat down, “how hungry are you?”

“What can I have?”

“Well,” Patton says as he starts to open and close cabinets, “we’ve got pasta if you want a full dinner, we’ve got crackers, cereal, pretzels, fruit, quite a lot of options.”

“…can I have pretzels, please?”

“One bowl of pretzels coming right up!”

Janus sits next to him as Roman begins to eat the pretzels. Patton comes to join them, sitting a little further away as to not crowd the poor kiddo. He exchanges a look with Janus as Roman continues to eat.

Footsteps on the stairs.

Janus looks up just as Virgil and Logan come down into the living room, talking between themselves. They trail off as they notice Janus staring at them.

“Can we help you?” Then Virgil’s eyes land on Roman. “Holy—“

He slaps a hand over his mouth and glares at Janus. Janus raises an eyebrow and slowly lets him go.

“Rude.”

“But necessary,” Janus says, folding his hands and drawing himself up. Virgil gives him a strange look but refocuses on Roman.

“So…who’s the kid?”

“I believe,” Logan says softly, the way Roman hasn’t looked up at them once and instead continues to eat pretzels almost mechanically not escaping him, “this is Roman.”

At the mention of his name, Roman looks up slowly, meeting Logan’s gaze with more than enough trepidation to set Virgil’s fingers buzzing. Logan tilts his head and waves a little. Roman just stares at him.

“Hello, Roman,” Logan says, still in that very soft voice, “it’s good to see you.”

Roman waves back. Then he glances down at the bowl of pretzels and twists his hands together.

“Are you full, kiddo?” Patton takes the bowl when Roman nods. “Good. I’m glad you enjoyed them.”

Roman glances around, shifting a little in his grey t-shirt. “Can I go back to my room now?”

“Of course you can,” Janus says, “would you like one of us to come with you?”

Roman shakes his head quickly. A little too quickly. But he’s been given permission to leave so he scoots off the chair and all but scrambles up the stairs. Logan watches him go, concern written over his features. Virgil waits to hear the soft click of his door shutting before rounding on the others.

“Why the hell is Princey a child?”

“We don’t know for sure,” Patton sighs, stretching a little and rubbing his face, “Janus and I just went up to try and talk to him and found him like that.”

“So it didn’t happen after the wedding?”

They wince and Virgil pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Look, I may not have been there, but I know what happened. And no,” he says, raising his voice a little when both Patton and Janus try to say something, “I’m not interested in your excuses. But if you’re gonna try and tell me you don’t think it’s related I will throw a chair at your head.”

Patton bows his head, twisting his hands together in his lap as shame and guilt color his face. “He…he said something.”

“What did he say?”

“That he couldn’t be a prince,” Janus finishes, looking at the table, “and that he had to start over.”

Fuck.

“A-and he felt like he needed my permission for…everything,” Patton continues, “and Virgil, he looked so scared.”

“Of course he did.”

They turn to look at Logan, still staring up the stairs with gentle concern on his features. Virgil pokes his arm when he doesn’t continue right away.

“Roman’s sudden de-aging is likely due to stress,” he explains, looking back at them, “and thus the initial mindset he had when he regained consciousness as a child was fear. Fear of not knowing what to do or of doing something wrong.”

Patton gulps. Virgil shoots him a soft look and he nods slowly. “I…we were going to talk to him. We…I have been putting pressure on Roman since…it’s been a long time.”

“I think we all have.” Virgil’s gaze darts to Janus who is still all drawn up and inspecting his glove. “And you can turn that off, please.”

Janus sighs and Logan has to blink at how much his character shifts. Janus tugs nervously on his glove and straightens his hat.

“Roman is incredibly fragile right now and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Keeping that off around him is probably a good start.”

“We will need to ask Roman how much he remembers.” Logan adjusts his tie. “What he does remember will dictate how we need to help him.”

“Praise and reassurance.”

Logan raises an eyebrow at Janus who shuffles under his gaze.

“Praise and reassurance,” he repeats, tugging on his glove again, “he…he likes having a sense of structure. To know he’s doing something right.”

The regretful undertone to the words tells them all exactly how he knows that.

“We cannot let him believe that we are only behaving this way toward him because we believe he needs to be fixed,” Logan says firmly, “because that isn’t true. If this is a result of Roman feeling…unloved, then we must show him that he is.”

The word ‘unloved’ gets stuck in his throat and he clears it. Around him, the others are showing similar signs of discomfort.

Roman…their Roman. The idea that he wouldn’t feel loved—that he doesn’t feel loved sits strangely. Like a puzzle piece that just doesn’t fit, even though it has to go there.

While this lovely conversation is happening, of course, they’ve forgotten that there’s someone else who’s noticed the absence of a singing prince.

Remus doesn’t bother entering his brother’s room the normal way, instead sinking straight through the ceiling, fully intending to drive his elbow into Roman’s stomach.

What happens instead is he lands on Roman’s mattress with a dissatisfying thump as a tiny thing squeaks and scurries under the desk.

Remus sits up, frowning at the trembling figure underneath Roman’s desk and peers closer. Did Roman make a new pet for them to join on adventures? Is this one of the villagers that got too hurt and needed to be brought back here to recover?

Only when he sees the eyes peering shakily out at him do his own widen in realization.

“Roro?”

“R-Remus? Re?” And fuck, yeah, that’s Roman’s little head poking out from under there as he scrambles out. “Re? Are—are you back?”

Remus blinks. “Sure, Ro-Bro, I’m back, what—oof!”

A pint-sized pugilist rams itself into Remus’s stomach and knocks him backward onto the bed as his arms instinctively fly around the mass. He looks down, panting, only to see little Roro shaking with the effort of holding onto Remus as tightly as he can. His ribs are starting to protest when Roman turns his head and a cold nose tucks itself right into the crook of his elbow.

“Hey, hey, Roro,” Remus croaks, clumsily petting Roman’s head, “you’re okay. I’m right here, you got me good, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You—they said you were never coming back—everyone hated you, I—they made me say I didn’t like you—they said I was you but they don’t like you and I—I’m sorry—“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow your rolls and buns there, Roro, take in some oxygen before you pass out on me.” Remus wraps his arms gently but firmly around his now-panicking little bother—brother, pulling him securely into his lap. He has to pry Roman’s grip off of him a little but quickly reattaches the little limpet. “There you go, see? You got me! I’m trapped! I can’t go anywhere!”

His jokes don’t seem to work. If anything, Roman clutches him tighter, trembling in his hold.

“You gotta breathe for me, Ro-Bro, come on…in and out, you can do it.” Remus starts to take big slow breaths, feeling Roman start to copy him. “There you go, Roro. Just like that.”

Little Roman dissolves into a shaking and trembling puddle, cold nose buried in the crook of Remus’s neck as hot tears begin to trickle down his cheeks.

“Hey, hey, what’re those for? You’re safe, Roro, I gotcha, you got me, we got each other. We’re not playing right now, I’m not trapping you, what’s up?”

“Y-you’re—you’re back,” Roman wails, “you’re back, you’re back, don’t go—“

“I’m not going anywhere, Roro, I promise.” He gives Roman a light squeeze. “I’ve gotcha.”

Remus is very glad he actually washed his hands this morning as he begins to wipe away Roman’s tears. His hands are damp within moments but he keeps going, letting the little limpet wipe his nose on his costume and not giving a single flying fuck. Roman’s red nose keeps sniffling so Remus lays back against some of the pillows, heaving the little beast on top of him to have him settle down. Roman does, eventually, slumping into a sprawl all over Remus’s chest. Remus rubs his little brother’s back and nuzzles the top of his head.

“D’you want to tell me what this is all about, Roro?”

Roman mumbles.

“I can’t hear you, Ro-Bro, you gotta speak up.”

He can feel Roman’s throat work against him. “I couldn’t be the prince so I had to start over. Couldn’t—couldn’t do it right.”

“Do what right, Roman,” Remus asks, slowly tightening his grip on his brother again, “what couldn’t you do?”

“Kept messing up. Messed everything up.” Roman’s voice starts to choke off again. “Had—hadda make it right. Wanted to go back to—to—to—when it was okay.”

‘Okay.’

Yeah, nothing about this is ‘okay’ right now.

“Well,” Remus says, resolutely ignoring that for the time being, “why don’t we do something fun?”

Roman nods eagerly, pushing himself up so fast his hands slip and he falls face-first down on Remus’s chest again. Remus chuckles and helps him sit up.

“Wanna go into the Imagination?”

Roman’s smile falters. “We need permission.”

“No we don’t, we’re Creativity. That’s our domain. We run it, we decide when we get to go in!”

But Roman shakes his head stubbornly. “N-no, we—we have to ask first. And I don’t want you to get in trouble f-for me.”

“They can try and make me be in trouble,” Remus sniffs, “but it won’t go well for them.”

Roman looks up at him, expression changing as he slowly reaches up to cup his hands around Remus’s face. “I wanna be like you.”

Remus’s chest clenches. “You want my mustache?”

Roman makes a face. “No. I want—I want to be as sure as you are that nothing bad can happen. I want that.”

Ah, fuck. They had a joke going when they were—well, when both of them were smaller that Roman got the Ego, Remus got the Pride. He never—well, kids hold ideas and let them go. He tossed that one over his shoulder a long time ago. Roman, it seems, never did.

“Hey,” Remus says instead, reaching to cup Roman’s face in his hands, “you’ve got it, Roro. It’s yours too. You just gotta look for it.”

“But that’s hard.”

“Nothing worth doing is ever easy,” he says, fighting back a joke that he knows Roman won’t understand.

“…you’re really smart, Re.”

“Well—“ he chucks him lightly under the chin— “you’re the one that taught me that.”

Roman’s little face smiles and oh, Remus could rip his fucking thumbs off.

“If you don’t want to go into the Imagination we could always do something here.” Remus jumps off the bed and starts rifling through his ideas. Well, most of them aren’t…something he would do when Roman is this small. “…paint?”

There it is. Roman’s face lights up and he scrambles off the bed to join Remus. “Painting? Can we paint together?”

“Sure. One big canvas, let’s see, you wanna help make it?” They put their hands together and slowly draw a big rectangle in the middle of Roman’s room. “Good job, Ro-Bro, it’s just the right size.”

His brother almost glows at the praise. “Now all we need is—“

“Paint!”

They both turn to each other with their hands full of it. Roman has several bottles clutched in his little hands and Remus is juggling an armful of tubes. They drop them all over the floor and Remus rubs his hands together.

“What’re we gonna paint?”

“The canvas!”

“Yeah, I mean—“ Remus’s jaw drops open when Roman just pours paint onto his hand and smears it across the canvas— “whoa.”

Wrong reaction to have. But the second he sees Roman’s brilliant grin start to fade, he jumps straight on the fuck-that train and grabs another bottle. Soon they’re smearing paint all over the canvas. They end up creating a pretty good gradient of pinks and blues and reds and oranges and yellows. Then Remus grabs a green tube and just squirts it right onto the canvas.

“Hey!” Roman rubs his cheek. “You got paint on me!”

“I think you got paint on you.” Because when your brushes are your hands and you rub your face, paint goes onto your face.

“It was green! You put the green on me!”

Remus grins, bending closer and pretending to examine Roman’s cheek. “I dunno, Roro, I can’t see any green on there.”

Roman grabs a tube of red paint—

“Whoa, hey, there—“

—and squirts it onto the canvas. But mostly Remus.

“Oh, that’s it.”

The two of them spend the rest of the time splashing paint around, not caring about whether it gets on the actual canvas or the canvases they’ve made out of each other. Remus ends up with red splattered across his sash—not a bad look—and a bright blue handprint on his chest. Roman ends up with some green in his hair and streaks of purple down his arms. They’re laughing too hard to be spiteful about it as they chase each other around the canvas, each trying to get their hands on the other first.

If Roman never sees the others opening his door a crack, only to smile and leave them be when they see Remus and the paint with him, it’s perfectly fine.

Remus ends up using his size to his advantage and scooping the little monster up into his arms. He spins him around, laughing maniacally as Roman shrieks and squeals. He holds onto his brother’s arms, head thrown back as they whirl there.

“I win,” Remus pronounces as he sets Roman—carefully!—back down, “you lose.”

Roman giggles, reaching up to poke Remus’s nose with a bright red finger. “No, I win!”

“We both win.” Remus shakes his head only for some of his hair to stand straight on end—the only straight thing in this room—from the paint. “Uh…we should wash this off.”

Roman examines his paint-colored self, his gray shirt and shorts now absolutely awash with rainbow. “Yeah, probably.”

Remus looks at him and gently touches the fabric with his fingers. Roman’s eyes widen as the fabric changes from having paint on it to the colors being part of the fabric itself.

“Whoa! That’s so cool!”

Remus chuckles. “You’re welcome, Roro. Now let’s get cleaned up. I’m sure you’re gonna get hungry in a little bit.”

They make their way to the shower where Remus gets them out of their paint-covered clothes and squeaky clean. Roman’s eyes start to droop as Remus massages the shampoo into his hair.

“You can close your eyes, Ro-Bro, I gotcha.”

And if little Roman is so tired he can barely keep his eyes open long enough to put on pajamas after they get out of the shower, then Remus will happily carry him to bed. Of course the little limpet decides to latch onto him but there are worse fates. He resigns himself to being a personal pillow and stretches out, rubbing Roman’s back to help soothe him to sleep.

There’s a soft knock on the door and Logan eases it open. Remus has a quip on the tip of his tongue at the way the nerd’s expression melts at the sight of little Roro.

“Asleep, then?”

“Mhm.”

Logan glances at their painting. “I must say…it’s spectacular.”

Remus looks at the painting. An abstract swirl of colors and splatters that looks like the perfect chaotic nonsense. He’s more proud of it than expected too.

“He seems happy,” comes Logan’s soft voice, calling his attention back as he sits on the edge of the bed, “or…happier.”

Remus runs a protective hand down Roman’s back. “He said he missed me.”

“Well, yes, I suppose that…being suddenly reverted to an age where you two were together would—“

“No,” he says firmly, “he missed me. When he was big too, Lolo.”

Logan winces. “Oh, dear.”

“Has he told you why this…happened?”

“Not me explicitly, no.” Logan looks up and waits. “Did…did he tell you?”

“He said he wanted to go back to when everything was okay.”

Logan’s eyes widen. Oh. Oh, dear. “He…the last time he was okay…”

Remus’s sharp nod only confirms it. Logan lets out a breath as Roman’s hands twitch in his sleep. Unbidden, the impulse to reach out and squeeze comfortingly rises up sudden and sharp and he reaches out, covering the little one’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“He wasn’t supposed to get hurt,” Remus whispers, “when—when they took us away, they—they were allowed to do whatever they wanted to me, but—but not my brother.”

“Never again,” Logan promises low in his throat, touched by Remus’s sudden display of vulnerability, “you won’t be separated.”

Quite frankly, as he watches Remus tighten his grip on Roman, he’d like to see the others try.

As it turns out, that isn’t anywhere near their realm of possibility. When Roman wakes a little while later to them talking quietly with a rumble in his stomach, Remus carries him downstairs as Patton starts making dinner. Logan has to hide a smile at the way Virgil mouths ‘oh my god’ and Janus stuffs his fist up to his mouth to hide the coo. Patton clumsily answers Remus’s question about whose night it is to help—his—and gently asks Roman if he can set him down.

“You won’t go far?”

“I’ll be in the kitchen the whole time.”

“Here,” Virgil calls, holding out his arms, “I’m the softest thing in this room. Give him to me.”

He’s gonna regret that later but not right now. Not when little Princey is deposited into his lap and promptly snuggles right up to his chest and sighs. Virgil wraps his arms around little Roman and sits back against the couch, absentmindedly scrolling on his phone as his breath warms the top of Roman’s head.

“V-Virgil?”

“Yeah, Princey?” Virgil winces when Roman tenses. “Sorry, sorry, I forgot. What is it, Roman?”

Roman’s hands clench and unclench in his hoodie. “Do…do you miss the other me?”

Well. Don’t start off easy or anything, kid.

Does he?

He’s gonna be honest, he does miss Roman. Misses the banter, misses the confidence, misses the warmth of walking into a room and seeing Roman there. He misses the feeling that Roman would always come up with something, even when things seemed hopeless he would be there to try.

But even though he’s had this Roman for two minutes, he already knows he’d miss him like a lost limb. This Roman, who is all clumsy affection and easy smiles and soft cuddles.

“I miss him,” he decides on eventually, “but you’re my Roman too.”

Roman’s little face is too cute. It’s illegal. Who allowed this?

“Your Roman?”

“Yeah,” Virgil says, giving the boy’s hair a gentle tug, “you’re our Roman.”

Roman’s hands tug gently again. “E-even if I’m not a prince?”

Ah. Virgil sits up a little and pulls Roman into his lap properly. “You were our prince because we thought that was what you wanted to be.”

“Even if I wasn’t good at it?”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Virgil swallows the curses and pulls Roman into a tight hug, muttering into his shoulder.

“You were good at it, Roman,” he mumbles, “you were the best prince. You were the best prince because you were our prince. And you were our prince because you were Roman first.”

He can feel Roman’s jumpy little breaths before he’s hugged with a ferocity that takes him by surprise. But he’s not complaining.

“So I can be a prince?”

“If you want to be.”

There’s a pause during which Virgil pointedly does not make eye contact with Janus, before Roman speaks again.

“…I, uh, I think I’d be okay with the nickname, then.”

“Princey?” Roman nods and Virgil grins. “Okay, Princey.”

When he pulls back, there’s a little smile on Roman’s face that stays throughout dinner.

“Well,” Patton says as they start to clear the dishes away, “I’d say it’s a good night for a cuddle pile, wouldn’t you?”

“A splendid idea.” Logan closes the dishwasher. “Down here?”

“Might as well.” They start to organize, Logan directing the creation of the mattress and pillows, Patton and Virgil moving the blankets. Roman looks around for a moment, waiting, before Janus beckons him over to the last of the fading sunlight by the window.

“We,” he says gently as he coaxes Roman to lie down, “have the most important job.”

“What’s that?”

“We’re the ones that get tired first.” To prove a point, Janus lets himself yawn, big and wide. Sure enough, little Roman yawns too. “When Logan tells us all where to go, it’s our job to start being tired so the others have an easier way of settling.”

“That sounds like we have an excuse to fall asleep.”

“That too.”

Roman giggles and it makes Janus’s chest feel light.

“Come here, little prince,” he murmurs, opening his many arms to gather the little one to his chest, “there you are. You look tired, go ahead and close your eyes, it’s alright.”

Roman shifts a little in his grip. “…Janus?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Are…are you gonna take care of me?”

Janus pulls back a little, enough to cup Roman’s face in his hand. “Of course, sweetie, I will always take care of you.”

“N-no matter what?”

“No matter what.” He leans down to gently knock his forehead against Roman’s and press a chaste kiss there. “I’ve got you, little prince.”

The weight of the acts gone without acquittance sit heavily in his stomach, but with Roman cradled tenderly in his embrace, they start to get a little more bearable.

“Come on, cuddle bugs,” Patton calls, hands stroking gently through their hair, “let’s get you onto the mattress.”

Janus uncurls first, only for Roman to blink sleepily up at him.

“Do you need to be carried, sweetie? Is that it, little prince?”

Roman nods and blearily holds up his arms, letting out another squeaky yawn. He makes a few grabbing motions at Logan as he adjusts the last pillow.

“Ah, come here, little one,” Logan murmurs, picking him up, “let’s lie you down, shall we?”

The others join them in their pajamas, Roman’s head in Logan’s lap as he sits against the foot of the couch. Logan’s hand tangles in his hair, nails dancing over his scalp to encourage him to sleep.

“You’re safe, little one,” he promises, “just close your eyes. We’ll be right here for you when you wake up.”

Roman blinks up at him lazily, eyes wet with sleep as he nuzzles into Logan’s stomach. Logan keeps up the soothing rhythm of fingers in his hair, nails across his scalp, until the little one yawns away and closes his eyes. Only when sleep begins to call to him too do they shift, one of Roman’s hands on his chest, the other in Remus’s shirt as his head tucks into the crook of Logan’s shoulder.

The little prince falls asleep, surrounded by the warmth of his family.

————————

Roman blinks awake.

His ceiling doesn’t look like his ceiling and there’s a weight on his stomach that definitely isn’t a pillow. He cranes his head up to look around and his mouth drops open when he sees a slumbering Virgil lying with one arm around him. He turns his head a little more and comes face to face with Logan’s sleeping visage. Remus’s whistling snores are in his ear.

He risks sitting up a little farther, only to see Patton and Janus at the edge of the frankly giant mattress they’ve seem to set up on the floor of the living room. The two of them are almost protectively positioned, guarding the rest of them from whatever would plague them in the night.

His head is a little fuzzy and he can’t remember much of how they got here. Flashes come to him. Pretzels, paint, something about the word ‘prince.’

But, right now, with Logan’s chest rising and falling as Janus mumbles something in his sleep, he can’t be too bothered to worry about it.

Roman settles back down onto the mattress and closes his eyes. As he drifts off to sleep, a small smile touches the corners of his mouth.

For the first time in a long time, he feels okay.

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[clanwarrior-tumbly]

May i have a monster tom x reader?

Plot: While reader was out grabbing some groceries they recognize tom in his monster form getting chased by the cops and tom ends up in the forest and reader, searching form tom, eventually finds him in a cave and try to calm him down while also removing the bullet holes only having the cops find them again and reader convincing to put their guns away but one of thems just "NAW HE GOTTA DIE" and reader ends up with a bullet in their leg and also monster tom killing that one cop while the others got away and monster tom, with tears in his eye(s?) Kinda carries and injured reader. And also reader wakes up them covered in bandages and a half transformed monster tom silently crying while hugging them and they reassure him that it's not his fault and they cuddle :3

Also somehow tom got the groceries

Y e s good 👀👀👆👆👆

........

"Man, I sure do love grocery shopping for my roommates and boyfriend." You hummed out loud as you were walking back home, bags in-hand from your trip to the store.

It was just a normal day for the most part, which was quite strange considering something bizarre was bound to happen.

But so far nothing odd has occurred.

"It's nice to not worry about anything going wro-"

The sound of rumbling made you stop short, and you felt the ground tremble as you looked around in bewilderment.

Seconds later you noticed a giant purple beast roar as it ran past you, followed by several police cars and a few helicopters. You saw the beast flee into the nearby forest.

"Huh, that creature reminds me of Tom......HOLY SHIT THAT'S MY TOM!!"

Dropping the groceries, you dashed after him, noticing the knocked-over trees as you entered the wooded area undetected.

You had no idea what happened while you were gone to make Tom transform and wreck havoc again. But you've decided that you'll blame Tord once you get him back home.

Only that bastard could've done something to piss him off this much.

........

After much searching, and evasion of the spotlights and cops, you found a cave. You were worried that a bear lived here, but given the trail of blood that led into the entrance, you knew for certain it couldn't be one.

It had to be Tom.

"Tom? Sweetie? It's me." You called out gently as you went inside, hearing the monster's whine in response.

Eventually you turned a corner and found him, smiling at first. But then you saw the bullet wounds and gasped in shock, rushing over. "Oh jesus..it's okay, I'm here now. Let me see." You gently took his paw, gazing at the injury. A bullet was clearly lodged into it.

"Damnit..I did buy pliers at the store," you grumbled. "If I didn't drop all that stuff like an idiot I could've-"

Tom let out a displeased grunt, prompting you to look back up at him. "No, I don't care about groceries more than you. I'm just saying it would've been more convenient if I..."

However, you trailed off as his single eye squinted in pain. He lowered his head to nuzzle it against your forehead.

You sighed and put your hand on his cheek, hushing him. "I know it hurts, but we'll be okay. I'll find a way to-"

"HEY YOU! Step away from the scary monster!!"

Your eyes widened as you glanced over your shoulder, seeing several cops with their guns drawn blocking the way out.

Tom was starting to get angry again, but you hushed him once more, slowly standing up. You turned to the cops, keeping your hands out so they knew you weren't armed.

"Just go home, fellas. I got this under control. I know him. He's my uh....pet...dragon." You nervously chuckled, glancing back at the unamused Tom.

"Don't dragons have wings?" One of the cops remarked.

"How rude of you to stereotype." Huffing, you shook your head in dismay. "Listen, it's okay. He won't hurt me. So just please..put your guns away and I'll take him home. That way, everybody wins. Okay? Nobody has to die."

Although hesitant, they slowly put their guns back in their holsters. Though one cop who looked immensely paranoid suddenly took his back out, aiming it with shaking hands.

"Woah hey! What are you-?!"

"Y-You're lying!!" He shouted. "You probably created that thing and set him loose upon this city!! WELL THIS ENDS NOW!!!"

A single bullet was fired directly at Tom, but you jumped into its path, getting hit in the leg.

As you collapsed and yelled out in pain, Tom could only see the blood coming from you, and that was enough to fully enrage him.

He roared loudly and jumped over you, tackling the cop who shot you and tearing him apart, while the others fled the scene in fear they'll be next.

Once the man beneath him stopped screaming forever, he huffed as he got off of him. Then he looked at you, seeing you leaning against the wall, holding your leg. His eye began to water as he picked you up gently, whining as though to apologize for what happened.

You just smiled tiredly at him, though you couldn't say much as you gradually lost consciousness.

...........

When you woke up, you weren't aware of the time.

Just the fact you were laying in bed--back in the safety of Edd's house, with bandages covering your leg. But you realized that you weren't in your own room, but Tom's.

'Wait..is he..?'

Hearing a small sob, you looked to see your boyfriend curled up beside you, his head on your chest. You noticed his horns were still present and his arms were still fuzzy and large.

But besides that he was back to normal.

As you hugged him back, he looked up at you, tears staining his cheeks. They began falling faster. "I..I let you get hurt. I'm sorry..damnit." He cried silently. "I admit it, I lied about having this thing u-under control-"

"Hey, it's okay." You smiled as you kissed his forehead. "It was my decision to take that bullet, not yours. It's not your fault you can't control it just yet."

Tom sniffled. "S-So you're not mad?"

"No, I could never be." Rubbing his horns seemed to soothe him, as he purred and nestled his head back into your chest. "My leg hurts like a bitch but I'll live."

"My arm doesn't hurt anymore...or any other part of me that was shot."

"Huh..strange. Maybe you unlocked your regenerative healing powers." You mused.

He just chuckled, hugging you tightly. "Probably. By the way I..uh..got those groceries you dropped."

"Awh, really?"

"Yeah." He gazed up at you. "On the way home I scented the sminorff and, well..y'know I couldn't let that go to waste."

"....so you care about sminorff more than me?" You pouted.

"No. I'm not saying that." Tom was back to his usual grumpy self, which made you chuckle as you caught him off-guard with a kiss.

"I'm only teasing."

"....let's just stay like this for a while, alright?" He cuddled closer to you, sighing tiredly.

You agreed and just closed your eyes, glad to be back in his arms.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Can I place an order for Yandere Geralt de Rivia with the kind and loving reader who sees the best in people?

Yes lemme cook something up for our mans Geralt⚔️

Geralt of Rivia x reader - Full Moon on the Rise

Summary: You’ve never felt actual hate for others, you can’t even bring yourself to hurt a fly, and with Geralt, he’ll make sure you never have to.

Warning: a bit of angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, protective Geralt

Masterlist

“So what do you think? The green cloak or the black one....ohhh or maybe the red one?” You ask excitedly as Geralt stands next to you, looking around for any potential threats more then actually paying any real attention, “I mean, the green matches more with the woods, you know trees n’ such and that’s great for blending in. But the black gives off those scary vibes you have. But the dark red one just looks so good, and comfy too.” You raise a brow as he nods, “You know.”

“Right.”

You smile at his adorably lack luster reply, it’s just how he is and that’s perfectly fine with you, “I’m going with the dark red cloak.” You grin with a curt nod of self approval for your knowledgeable decision making skills.

Turning to the cloak vendor you hold up your prize, “Good evening ma’am, how much for this mysterious beauty?”

The old woman smiles brightly, the corners of her eyes wrinkling as she beams, quite excited to have some business with you, “Oh, my dear that’ll be five silver pieces.” You nod, tucking your new cloak under your arm as you nudge Geralt for some coin.

He quickly snaps his head over to you, his golden irises showing concern before he realizes you’re completely fine, “Y/N what is it?”

With a small giggle you make a grabby motion with your hand, “Spare me five silver pieces my good sir.” You muse with a mischievous brow wiggle, earning an amused huff from your Witcher.

He politely grins, “Whatever the lady asks.” Feeling around he pulls out the exact amount of coin you need. Your palm is spread as he tilts his hand into yours, conveniently giving you the coin.

“Thank you my love.” You whisper softy as he simply hands you the flash of a smile before turning his head to scour the market place once again.

The old woman opens up a small sack of coins for you to dump yours in, “Thank ya dear, have a save eve’nin.”

Clink. Sounds the last silver piece as you hold your new dirt-less red cloak closer in your arm, “You too.”

She suddenly leans in a bit closer, her face going serious, “Best keep that Witcher close, never know what kind of beasts be lurking in the woods. Specially with the next full moons a com’in.” Her wrinkly complexion turning back into her original beaming old lady face, “Have a nice stay in Bellepav.”

Stepping away you nervously nod, “Uh, yes....I’ll try?” You reply, not certain if you should be concerned or ignore the weirdness of the locals.

Deciding to ignore the strange behavior of the kind old woman, you flash her a last generous grin before turning on your heel and walking over to Geralt. With the familiar sound of your approaching footsteps he turns an intrigued eye over to you.

His brows furrowing as you gently lay a hand on his arm, “You alright Y/N.” He worries, noticing the slight wariness in your step.

Lightly squeezing his forearm you send him a reassuring smile, “Of course, that old woman was just acting odd. Well not that odd, I’ve definitely seen weirder....she just had a strange look when she told me to keep you close and watch out for the next full moon.”

He moves to take your cloak from you, quietly swinging the thick comfortable dark red fabric around your shoulders, clasping the lock together that keeps the material from falling off your body.

After he’s done, does his beautiful golden eyes find your alluring ones, “Y/N, we’ll be fine. I wouldn’t dare let a soul touch you, you have my word.”

Reaching up to gently cup his scruffy cheek, you smirk, “I know you do.” Releasing your warm touch from his face do you turn towards the bakers cart, the smell of fresh bread wafting into your nostrils.

“Geralt!” You exclaim with an excited twinkle in your eyes, “Fresh bread....” Your skilled eyes land upon the shiny red apples displayed about on the stall, “Apples! Ugh, I haven’t had an actual apple in almost four months, what I would do for one.”

Your eyes stare dreamily at the bakers cart, your mouth watering at the smell and sight of the desired foods. Geralt chuckles at your adorable reaction before tugging at your arm. “Come on Y/N, I’ll get you something.” Speaks your kind Witcher with a tinge of humor in his gravely voice.

Snapping your head towards him, your eyes going wide in excitement, “Aww yes!��� You shout before pulling him in the direction of the cart, joy flowing through your heart as you make hasty steps across the market place.

The red apples are even more beautiful then you’d first seen as you stand ogling them from your spot in the muddy lane, “Sir I’d like three apples and a loaf of that bread please.” You ask, your voice sweet as honey.

He nods, “That’ll be two silver pieces and a copper cent.” Inquires the baker with a friendly smile, casually looking you up and down though you’re to focused on the apples to even notice his slight creepiness.

Geralt does and immediately steps forward, his broad leather armored shoulder placing itself in between you and the lonely baker. His golden irises dark and deadly as he stares down the now noticeably frightened man.

The baker takes a step back, sending him a shy half grin, “Uh...I’ll get those apples...and uh...loaf of br-bread.” He stutteres, dropped his eyes to nothing else but his new task at hand.

You watch from behind Geralt’s strong body, your mind on those big beautiful apples as Geralt fishes out the coin, dropping it atop the wooden table as the baker hands him the loaf and a small bag filled with three juicy red apples.

A smile breaks out upon your face as Geralt hands you the food, you gratefully accept as he turns and practically death glares at the stunned baker, who’s notably averted his gaze to his fluffy loaves of bread.

Geralt turns back around to watch as you hug your valuables close, a small smirk pulls at the corner of his lips at your obliviously cute demeanor.

Resting a hand on your shoulder he finds your beaming eyes, “Lets go find Roach.”

You gasp, “I bet Roach would love one of these big beautiful bastards.” Earning a chuckle from your silver haired lover as he walks by your side on the way to the front entrance of the small village.

You both wander past some more harmless villagers going about their business until a small dirty little boy races past the two of you, tripping over his own two feet and just like that does he abruptly fall into the dirt. His hands landing with a thwack sound as his stomach and knees reach the hard ground.

He lets out a pained cry once his chin hits the earth, you don’t have time to think before you’ve crouched by his side like a concerned mother. You gently touch his shoulder as he sniffles, his dirt smudged face turning to you.

“That was quite the tumble, are you alright?” His big brown eyes are filled with unshed tears as he moves into a seated position, his hands clutched tight against his chest as he holds in the pain.

“Y-yes.....sorry miss I should have been looking were I was going.” He mutters, his eyes downcast as he avoids Geralt’s hard gaze from right next to you.

Your eyes turn soft before you take one of your red apples from out of your thin ruck sack, “I have just the thing that would cheer you up, ever taste something as colorful as this crimson beauty?” You add with a raise of your brow, the young boy sniffles again. His face lighting up as you wave the shining red apple across his line of sight.

You smile, handing him the scarlet treat, “I think you need this more then me. Maybe it’ll sharped those senses so you won’t fall again, hmm.”

He holds the valuable in his small grubby fingers, his eyes wide in surprised wonder, “Th-thank you miss, I’ll try and not fall again.”

You breath out an amused snort, “Yes, I wouldn’t want to land on these streets again, considering horses are ridden through them daily.” The brown eyed boy gives you the shyest of smiles before you stand to your full height once again.

“Safe travels.” You add with a friendly wink before continuing on your way out of the village, Geralt trailing after you like the ever loyal lover that he is.

His large form keeps comfortably at your side, “That was our apple Y/N.” States Geralt in his titular gruff Witcher voice.

Turning an amused smirk to him, you nudge his arm, “Great observation, but the little beast seemed to need it more...poor thing just about face planted in the street. Did look quite painful.”

Geralt smiles, always bemused by your kind intellect, “Y/N you are too kind.”

Walking past the front gates and down the muddy village trail you let out a small laugh, “What? Can I not give a little, if you haven’t noticed my White Wolf...this world doesn’t like to be very kind to the innocent most times.” He hums in agreement, “So you see, I’ll do whatever I can to help those who need it most. And if that’s a clumsy child with a dirty face, I’ll be glad to make their day better.”

You can’t see it, but Geralt’s heart could just about explode with how much love he has for you in this very moment, the way you speak with such care and kindness for the people of the continent. He’s never met anyone like you, through it all, with all you’ve seen, your heart still goes out for the ones who need it the most and Geralt knows this. 

Your whole aurora feels light and warm, excitement courses through your vessel as you think of how happy Roach is going to be once she gets a taste of your delicious apple. And especially how much you’re looking forward to taking a bite out of your own crispy red apple too. It’s the little things.

Boots press into mud as you finally find your way to the small stream where you both left Roach to nibble on some vegetation. You quickly set your loaf of bread onto a mossy log before reaching in your thin ruck sack to pull out one beautifully shiny crimson apple.

“Hello my dear Roach!” You exclaim happily as the mare neighs, “I’ve got a lil somethin’ for ya, it’s a...da da da daaaa....apple!” Geralt chuckles to himself in the background as he fumbles around in his black traveling bag, finding something to sharpen his sword with.

“How bout’ them apples..” you burst with laughter at your admittedly cheesy jest, “Okay, okay...here ya go Roach. A prize for the best lady in all the land.” Her head bobs up and down as you bring the red apple near her face. She quickly devours the fruit in a matter of seconds, the speed and her clear delight enough to earn a giggle from you.

“Roach.” You tut with a shake of your head, “Those manners are something else. Wonder who you learned them from?”

You turn an eye to Geralt who’s stopped sharpening his sword to find your humored gaze, “I wouldn’t have the slightest idea.” He mutters, doing his best to hide his growing smile.

Turning a flustered face away from him you gently pet Roach’s soft mane, “He thinks he’s funny, doesn’t he?” You whisper to the mare.

After tending to Roach for a bit do you walk down to the stream, washing away the dirt and grime from your hands and face as Geralt starts a fire close by. You can feel his golden irises watching you as the cool water washes away the worries of the day.

Finishing up your nightly routine, you stand once more, turning around to face the loving smile of your dear Witcher. You walk over to his glowing fire, a small smile upon your lips, “Room for one more?”

He scoots himself down the log, patting to the extra spot, “There’s always room for you.”

Sitting yourself next to him, he quickly wraps a protective arm around you, pulling your body close. The both of you do nothing but enjoy one another’s company and the crackling of the campfire for what seems like hours. You couldn’t be bothered to remove yourself from Geralt even if a whole war party was racing past you both louder then a giants scream.

Though you’re just about certain without a doubt in your mind that Geralt feels the exact same way. His breathing his steady and calm, it’s a comforting rhythm that you could listen to for hours. Even his large muscular arm is warm against your body, he’s like a furnace on the coldest night. And all yours.

You’re just about to drift off into dreamland when a sudden loud howl is heard in the near distance causing you to jump. Geralt hugs you closer, “Fear not Y/N, it’s just a damn wolf, nothing to be afraid of.” He assures you with the kindest of smiles, not a note of falseness lacing his words.

Resting your head against his broad shoulder once again, you gently squeeze his hand, “Right, of course. Just a stupid old wolf who apparently feels it the time to howl at the full moon tonight.” You affirm with a curt nod, “I mean, it’s beautiful out and whatnot, guess it just startled me is all.”

“There’s nothing in these woods to be afraid of, except for me.” Grumbles Geralt as he stares into the embers of the fire.

“Oh, my love I could never be afraid of you. Never.” He smiles at your truthfulness, his chest filling with warmth at your kind words.

In reply he places a gentle kiss atop your head, earning a content sigh to leave your lips at the feeling, he is too good to you and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Not once has he ever made you uncomfortable or in fear for your life because of him, Geralt makes sure of himself to always put you first. He couldn’t bare to ever see you in pain.

The grip on your Witcher’s arm goes tighter at the sound of another piercing howl, this time much too close for your liking. Geralt can sense the fearful uneasiness radiating off of your smaller frame, how your heartbeat has picked up with the rush of your nerves. You’re not one to scare that easily, but this wolf is most definitely getting closer for whatever reason.

“Geralt!” You whisper yell, “That sounded close!”

With one arm wrapped around your torso and the other one clasped around the hilt of his silver sword, he looks around him as they two of you keep seated atop the log, a grand moon cloaking the land in a strangely beautiful whiteness. Revealing enough light upon the ground so that not all of the forest is covered in darkness and shadow.

“Don’t worry Y/N, I will protect you.” He swears to you, giving a light squeeze to your hip in a small act of comfort, “And anyways, if this was anything to be truly concerned about, Roach would show it. We are going to be fine. This wolf is simply just passing through.”

Your eyes glance over to Roach who’s casually nibbling on some grass, “Alright. Perhaps I’m overreacting, it’s just a wolf going on a nightly stroll as you do, nothing weird about that.”

“Precisely, now how about we get ready for bed? I’ve got the bed rolls already layed out for us....so don’t worry Y/N I’ve got you.” Reassures your Witcher as he removes his arm from your side to rest his sword in the grass right next to his makeshift bed. 

Feeling much better now you eagerly follow suit, the roughish cloth of your traveling bed roll is a cherished luxury of journeying across the vast lands of the continent. Though a tavern mattress would be more inviting, the arms of Geralt are always enough in your eyes, or perhaps arms in this case.

Even on the coldest of nights out here would you never really feel a shiver or the icy touch of the cool night air upon your skin. For your Witcher’s large frame seems to always be enough to block out the chill with his body heat when pressed closely against your back.

 Just like he is doing now, holding you securely to his large chest, his arms wrapped around your torso. Pulling yourself firmly counter to him, a thick blanket holding in the needed heat that nicely covers over the both of you.

With Geralt so near, your wandering and worrying mind has subsided those troublesome thoughts away from you, the howling wolf from earlier now finding it’s way into the back of your head. Giving yourself time to forget and find the call to sleep once again. With the warmth of Geralt holding you close, your eyelids flutter shut in a matter of seconds, the pull into the dark void of unconsciousness taking hold of you quickly.

Soon you’re out like a light, Geralt falling asleep not long after you do, leaving only the dull glowing embers of the campfire to keep watch over the two of you. Sleep is peaceful and full of strange images presenting themselves as dreams in your head, you can hear the soft sweet calling of Geralt as he speaks sweet nothings into the bleary grey void. 

Suddenly you’re standing in a large field of the greenest grasses flowing at your feet, large beautiful mountains surrounding you on all sides off in the far distance, you look to your left and find a single small tree with a branch sticking out. 

Walking closer, a black raven materializes right before your very eyes, breaking the silence with a gravelly shrill caw as it nods in your direction. Like it’s trying to communicate with you in the birds own way, furrowing your brows, you trek closer to the mysterious bird. You don’t appear to feel afraid or scared, you’re not even sure if you feel anything at all. Guess that’s just how dreams are sometimes.

Taking another step closer the raven lets out a thrilling caw before the dark bird spreads its black wings, you stumble back as the bird jumps from its perch to take flight. It flaps past you before landing on the short green grass where it is immediately clouded in dark smoke of blues, purples, and deep reds until everything clears to reveal the dirt smudged face of the little boy from earlier that day.

You gasp, surprised to see the little guy standing right before you once again, he looks up to you now, the tiniest of smiles crossing over his face. You stand perplexed, ready to ask him why he’s here when suddenly he points to the blue sky. 

“Hold your silver close.” He speaks softly, in that unassuming boyish voice of his.

Hugging yourself, you glance back down at him, “Sorry? I’m not sure what you mean.”

He simply points his little stubby finger back up at the sky, you follow, bewildered to find that the sky is now dark and full of stars, though you can still see around you like the sun is still out. How odd.

“Hold your Witcher close.” Warns the small child in the calmest of voices. 

Furrowing your brows in confusion you meet his stoic gaze once again. “Uh....I’m kind of lost, sorry.” You mutter, “I’m not certain what you mean.”

The child smiles a beaming grin, letting out the most adorable of giggles before pointing up at the night sky for the third time, you shift your gaze to find nothing but pitch blackness. And a huge milk white glowing full moon, it’s the largest you’ve ever seen and it’s absolutely magnificent.

You don’t even notice the smile that's fallen onto your face when you suddenly hear the flapping of feathers, snapping your sight back over to the young boy, you’re perplexed to be greeted with the beaming wrinkly face of the old woman from the market. 

She nods, acknowledging your presence, “Watch for what lurks in the woods dear. The full moon is here.” She whispers, the warmest of smiles gracing over her aged face as she nods to you once again.

Taking a step closer you take a nervous fistful of the red cloak that’s covering your body, how strange you didn’t notice the material before hand. “Oh, uh hello there....it is quite beautiful isn’t it.” You stammer, “There was a little boy just here moments ago. Do you know where he went?”

She tilts her head to the side, walking a couple steps forward so that she can reach out to clasp both your hands with hers, a kind twinkle in her eye, “My dear, he will always love you, through land and sea, from woods to meadow, and far beyond what makes us human.” She gently squeezes your hands in reassurance, “No matter the cost, he will always love you. For you are his moon, and he is your sun.”

Your brows scrunch together at her poetic words of wisdom? Or, well you’re not entirely so sure, “Sorry. I’m not confident on what you’re getting at ma’am, uh...thank you, I guess.” She smiles once again, showing you a nod of approval before letting go of your hands. 

She takes a step back, clasping her palms together, “He is here.” 

“Who is here?” You wonder.

“You will see.”

Without warning she abruptly bursts into a flurry of cawing ravens that squawk and screech as they press and flap their dark wings against your face, causing you to fall back into the grass from the jolting intrusion. Suddenly you suck in a quick breath of cold air, your eyes shooting wide open, only for you to find the snoozing face of Geralt. 

His tangled dirty white hair a mess over his handsome face as he lets in slow and calming breaths, you relax, letting out an audible sigh of relief. What a strange dream that was, you’ve never had anything like it before. And your dreams are far from anything normal most times. 

Though Geralt feels rather nice snuggled next to you, your body feels hot and sweaty, like you can’t help but feel a bit overwhelmed and cornered at the moment. Wanting to get some air and cool off, you quietly and skillfully slip from your Witcher’s sweet embrace. You slowly cover him back up with the thick blanket, tip-toeing over to Roach who’s itching her furry bottom on a tree.

You take small steps towards her, a half smile pulling at the corner of your lips, “Hey there girl, having fun?” You chuckle to yourself as she does her thing.

“Nice night huh, I hope no one’s come around to bother you.” She leans her big soft nose into your gentle touch as you pet her, “I got a little too warm, guess Geralt’s a lot hotter then I anticipated. Well, I mean...he’s always hot if you catch my meaning...but you probably already new that and uh....you’d probably rather not listen to me ramble on about how attractive your rider is, hmm? So don’t fret, I will stop.”

She snorts, nudging her nose into your opened palm, “Okay girl, I think you’re great too. I’d say you’ve helped us out quite a bit and not to mention when...” 

Snap.

Your head leers to the left at the abrupt sound, nothing but milky white darkness and shadow is to be seen as your eyes trail over the wood line. That was certainly very close, what the hell even made that stick break? Was it a deer, or maybe a coyote? 

Your nerves prick when Roach suddenly takes a wary step backwards, her leather reigns pulling to their limit as she takes another step away from you. Thinking quick, you rush to her side, pulling out Geralt’s other silver sword just incase some weird shit is about to go down.

Grasping the blade in your tight grip, you take cautious steps towards the heavy pines that seems to be the place where the stick snapped. You swallow nervously, your heart just about beating out of your chest as you travel closer and closer to the green bristles. 

Y/N what are you doing? Have you learned nothing from what those weird dreams were telling you?

Blinking hard, you stop, turning an apprehensive glance over to your peacefully sleeping Witcher, why wake him this could be a simple deer? Letting out another shaky breath you turn towards the thick pine trees, squinting your eyes as you try and do your absolute best to locate the intruder. Walking past a small evergreen, your heart feels like it’s about to explode when suddenly you hear a gentle rustle of leaves directly in front of you.

Turn back idiot.

Stopping dead in your tracks, you blink again, attempting to focus enough that maybe you’ll be able to see what’s making that noise. But as you’re leaning in to the pines, does your eyes finally catch the sight of a large black figure standing on the other side of the tree. Without warning the shadow leaps, you don’t even have a chance to scream before the flash of pearly white fangs reveals itself to you in a raging blur. 

The beast shoves you back into the clearing, emitting a blood curdling howl of agony as it steps into the moonlight, your eyes widen in fear at the chilling sight of a huge dark-grey werewolf. It’s inhuman eyes that of glowing topaz, it’s fangs bare and mouth dripping with saliva. Your chest rises and falls with heavy terrified breaths as the wolfman stands on two legs, its strong hand going to its stomach where a thick human like paw pulls out your silver blade.

Steaming red hot blood pours to the frost covered earth as the beast drops the shinning silver to the ground, its wound showing in the bright moonlight as it eyes you down like you’re nothing more then a lost sheep. You shiver at the sight, desperately scooting yourself backwards towards the fire as the werewolf growls a low but haunting note, falling onto all fours as it takes a step closer.

A frightful tear falls down the side of your cheek, you see nothing but hunger and pain in this creatures eyes, he’s slowly dying, but you know he will kill you before his last breath is had.

The wolfman growls again, readying a last charge when all of a sudden a shimmering silver sword is thrust deeply into the beasts throat, the source of its demise steps in between you and the wounded bastard.

Your eyes are wide as you watch the werewolf sink to the earth, gargling and choking on it’s own blood as it dies, twitching here and there before finally it goes still as stone. Not a sound emitting from it’s vessel but the heavy breaths of yourself and Geralt, who’s walked over to the beast now. Crouching down to observe it better, he hums, pulling the blood covered sword out of the monsters throat with a gross meaty sound.

You let out a shaky breath, slowly pulling yourself to your feet as Geralt drags his bloody silver over the beasts fur to clean the wet red from the blade. You swallow thickly, eyes watery from the whole frightening ordeal, “So not a deer as I had hoped.” You mutter, a nervous chuckle leaving your lips causing you to gasp in pain at something on your ribs. 

Geralt pierces his sword into the soft dirt, his face a mask of frustrated anger as he turns to you, “Y/N what where you thinking? You could have been killed, you didn’t know what was lurking in the dark, why wouldn’t you have just stayed by the fire?” He grumbles as you avoid his troubled gaze.

Another tear slips down your cheek causing his face to immediately soften, “I don’t know?” You whisper sadly, “I...I shouldn’t have thought to walk in the dark alone like that, it was foolish of me Geralt, truly...I’ll think better of it next time I promi- agh ugh...”A sharp jolting pain rips through your body right down the side of your right ribcage, feeling like someone has just burned you with a cast iron. 

More whimpers slip from your tongue at the searing violent stinging of your flesh causing you to press your hands against the area, your face contorting into one of agony while Geralt’s expression reveals deep concern. Not understanding in the slightest why you feel such misery all of a sudden, your eyes slip down to the dreaded area where you take notice of how your dark coat appears to be torn in jagged slashes where the pain is coming from.

Your brows furrow as you slowly remove your tied overcoat, Geralt’s big golden irises studying your every move for what the problem may be. Your hands make quick work of the lacing, now your arms move as you remove the jacket, you gasp in fear once it falls to the ground.

“Y/N.” Whispers Geralt in the softest of voices as a lone tear slides down your cheek.

Slowly you raise your weary head to meet is saddened gaze, “I’ve been bitten.” You rasp, lifting your bloody hand up into the silky moonlight, the burning ache of your wound making itself more present then ever.

Suddenly a surging spike of white hot torment angrily tears up into your side once more, though this time it’s too overwhelmingly excruciating that you fall to your knees, desperately grasping your wounded side when Geralt takes quick steps forward. Pulling you into his strong arms before you’re able to even hit the cold earth completely, his eyes never leaving your distressed face.

“Y/N look at me love, I’m right here...” He speaks gently while holding you close, though you can’t look at him, “don’t be afraid I’ve got you.”

More fearful tears fall freely now as you press your face into his shoulder, a numb and dark feeling finding it’s way into your soul while your arms wrap themselves around his waist, “No, not this.” You cry, shaking with fright, “This cannot be, I-I cannot be a wolf beast....I won’t ever harm anyone Geralt I swear to you on my life, I would never! I-I could never, it isn’t in me!” 

“Oh Y/N, my dear Y/N..” His voice surprises you with how uncharacteristically tender it sounds, “Look at me love.” He pleads calmly, pulling you from his shoulder so that you may look into his kind-hearted gaze, “Do you think now, that I would dare lay my blade against your precious skin?” Your lip quivers as your watery eyes slip from his to the werewolf laying dead near the two of you.

“I am one of them now Geralt. How can I live as this now, I am not a monster. I can’t hurt innocent people, I can’t.” You exclaim, your voice breaking as you speak, “All the years we have been together have been the happiest of my entire life, know this Geralt. You bring me so much joy and light that I never imagined I could ever feel, you have given me your heart even when you first claimed you could not love. I will never forget that.” His heart breaks in two at your truthful words of honesty paired with how somber and dismal you appear.

Not being able to stand you looking away from him for much longer, he carefully lifts a hand up to turn your face to his, leaving his palm on your cheek in a comforting manner, “Y/N my love, you will never be a monster in my eyes, not once not ever. I may be a Witcher, but you will not meet an untimely end due to this curse that has made it’s way into your vessel.” His eyes are soft and serene, full of absolute love and adoration for you.

Y/N he will not hurt you, but you cannot hurt others.

You sniffle, your voice thick as you speak, “I will not let others suffer a violent death because of me Geralt, it’s not in my blood.”

“You will not, there is always another way..”

“There is no other way!” You interrupt, sure of yourself that this new affliction will be your inevitable demise, “A werewolf cannot be broken of their curse once it is had, there are no known antidotes!”

“Y/N..”

“This bite cannot be undone Geralt.”

Eyes softening, he pulls you in closer to rest his head against your own, “My dear Y/N, your life means more to me then you know. I will find you the cure, I have seen a vial of it myself long ago when visiting an experienced alchemist who taught me many things about potion making. He will surly know how to rid this she-wolf within you, I am sure of it.”

Lifting your face away from his, you finally show him the tiniest of relieved smiles, your heart bursting with joy at this refreshing news, “You never fail to surprise me, even now. I trust you...I love you Geralt of Rivia with my entire being, every part of me from now until death. I guess this world has yet to bring me down.” 

Studying your newly determined expression, he grins with eyes full of love, “I do not doubt it my dear one.”

[shushiyuii]

g/t with language barrier pls?

Language barrier? That's an interesting idea! It's basically gonna be one big game of charades!

Warnings: Slight injury and dehumanisation (Nothing serious)

Words: 1.2k

I'm sorry, What?

To put it simply, he was a monster. His large tusks could easily pierce anything in its path. His blood-stained clothes could scare any approaching civilian. The battle scars that could just scream ‘I’m an experienced killer, do you want to try?’ even made some of the strongest in the world bow to his knees. He hated how people were treated just by appearance? But all in all, the rumours of the blood god do have its benefits.

How so? Well, whenever you enter a kingdom, you’re treated with the highest of respects in hopes of not angering him since well… He’s taken down a lot of kingdoms during his time. Technoblade was a man of many things, he was talented in combat, writing, speaking, mythology, baking and so much more.

But that was manly in the past now, the rumours of the travelling blood god who took down kingdoms changed to a bloodthirsty god residing in the woods, the title still stood but without the part of ‘if you just as much as piss me off, I will tear down your kingdom’ to just ‘leave me alone or ill kill you’ to put it simply.

It was nice to have the peace and quiet as he worked within the confines of his cottage.

Now a thing to know about this world, is that it’s a world full of monsters and hybrids. And one of the rarest species out there were Humans. Humans were not the same as Monsters, they were weak, small, and fragile. They have just as quickly gone as they were once here.

Whenever humans are around, they’re seen as a delicacy, used in magic, restaurants, and decoration for the highest of the highest. The rumours say humans have gone hidden underground or hide deep within the woods, but in all honestly, Techno couldn’t give two shits about these rumours, they were just rumours and nothing more. He hadn’t even seen a human during his centuries of living.

That was until one fateful day, it was an ordinary day of hunting until he heard an ear-piercing scream, an obnoxiously loud one…

When he found the source of this sound, he was more than surprised to find a human, laying in one of his many traps, his leg trapped in rope. Well… What was he going to do with a human? He didn’t really want to eat the thing, nor did he practise magic, nor did he want to kill it. Perhaps he could kill it?

He decided that would probably be the best course of action since well… There’s a lot of danger out there in the world. He carefully approached the tiny human, crouching and trying to reassure it before he released the fella.

“⊑⟒⊬... ⟟'⋔ ⋏⍜⏁ ☌⍜⋏⋏⏃ ⊑⎍⍀⏁ ⊬⏃' (Hey... I'm not gonna hurt ya') But what came out of human was what seemed to be a language he couldn’t understand. “Please! Stay away!”. The tone seemed scared. Of course, it was scared, it had been captured.

A very familiar scent hit his snout as he saw the human wince, it seemed the human was injured. Shit, now he had to try and calm a human with an injury. Techno decided the best course of action would probably be a game of charades, embarrassing as that was but the two of them wouldn’t be able to communicate with the language barrier.

He tried to get the humans attention and it kind of worked, with the human staring him down with terrified eyes… To be honest, he was scared himself, he didn’t even know himself as he was doing. He tried to gesture towards the trap and a breaking motion, with him pointing towards the human and then turning to a thumbs up. Hopefully, that would get the message.

For a moment the human seemed confused as it tried to comprehend what had happened, he repeated the action again with a flustered expression. The human then spoke, “You want to free me?”. It seemed calm now.

He titled his head in confusion, he didn’t understand the human but he hoped that it was okay with being set free. He brought out his hunting knife and carefully set the human free, luckily the human neither struggled nor yelled. It actually seemed rather content.

He slowly cut through the rope, careful as to not hurt the human and as soon as the human was free, he backed off slightly, not wanting to startle the human, “Thank you” the human spoke, Techno titled his head, “Oh right… You can’t understand me, can you?”. The human seemed in thought until he gestured that he got an idea.

He gave a thumbs-up, which meant that it was good! He was good! He and the human were good! Then the human tried to stand up, but yelled in pain… Oh, right… It had an injury.

The human looked at him for help and Techno thought for a moment of what to do, he had to treat the human and the only way of doing so would be to take it back to his cottage. So, he gestured towards his hand.

The human was confused for a moment until it got the message, it was scared at first until he laid his own hand on Techno’s using It as a means of trying to stand, Techno took this chance to cup the human into his hands, carefully lifting it off the ground, the human let out a yelp in the change of height but other than that, it seemed alright with the action.

Actually, it seemed this human was pretty calm in general, which was surprisingly odd yet convenient. Luckily the cottage wasn’t too far away from their current position so it wouldn’t be too much of a walk back.

Right, he was supposed to be hunting… Oh well, he had tons of potatoes, he could just make potato soup. As they walked, he wanted to try and see if there was another means of speaking with the human, perhaps they had similar writing?

Now that he thought about it, he didn’t really get a good look at the human, they actually seemed a bit older, probably his age equivalent. Blonde hair and bright blue eyes. The human also had an odd hat with it being striped green and white.

“⍙⊑⏃⏁'⌇ ⊬⍜⎍⍀ ⋏⏃⋔⟒?” (What’s your name?), the human looked at him in confusion until he tried to think what he might’ve said, to find no conclusions. Duh, because he didn’t understand so he gestured towards him and the human and said his name, “⏁⟒☊⊑⋏⍜”. The human thought for a moment until he seemed to pick up the message.

“My name? It’s Philza. Phil-za”. The human repeated that word, seemingly wanting him to focus on it. He tried to pronounce it “P- ⊑⟟⌰-za”. “Close, Philza”. “Philza?” His ears twitched in excitement as he said it right. So, it’s- his name was Philza!

Soon enough, the two reached the cottage and Techno tended to his wound, at least he had something to refer to Philza as, but Philza didn’t have a means of saying his names.

After Techno finished bandaging Phil’s wound, he went to grab a piece of paper and proceeded to write hello in the few languages he knew and placed them in front of Phil. He seemed confused for a minute as he tried to read them. Hopefully one would be one he knew.

And they found one! It was a language Techno had learnt to read but not speak, it was called English an old language used back in the day. So, it seemed that was the common language for humans but hey! Now the two could write to each other rather than charades!

[chanluster]

two types of fireworks | {f} ; mild {c}

oneshot | tangled! au | historical! au | 21.2k words

“ who could be better adventurers than a wanted thief and a girl with magical hair? ”

s u m m a r y > > when you find a notorious thief wounded within the woods you wondered, you heal him, not realising that the same man will lead you to your destination, and the few feelings you’ll develop along the way.

c o n t e n t s > > long haired flynn rider! hyunjin, rapunzel! reader, irritated companions to lovers, a lot of fluff, kkami is a horse, hyunjin gets SOOOO angry with you all the time, teasing, hyunjin gets flustered easily, everyone in skz included cause i miss them everyday, jisung is the villain iMSOSORRY, a few swear words sprinkled throughout, perhaps? sexual tension? never r e a l l y addressed, and of course, some familiar disney scenes

a u t h o r ‘ s  n o t e > > once again, i cannot control myself and wrote double the intended word count!! i hope you like and reblog if enjoy this homies, and remember, long-haired hyunjin domination!!!

back to masterlist

YOU WONDERED WHEN YOU WOULD FINALLY GET OUT OF THE FOREST.

Bag slung over your shoulder, your naked feet skimmed through the soft grass as you trudged on, waiting for an opening within the infinite trees to your destination beyond. 

It was days like this that you wished Mother had a horse at the foot of the tower. Even though it was a creature you had never seen, you had studied its striking figure within the illustrated books your mother gifted on countless birthdays, their natural-coloured coats, long, beautiful faces and poses of them galloping across green fields.

Green fields you wished had greeted you sooner.

The only sound of the entire forest was the rustling of leaves upon branches, woodland creatures here and there scrambling for food, or for shelter within the thousands of trees surrounding you. Even the sun could not break through the dense masses of nature, only slivers of light shooting through the leaves, providing light for your journey. 

Hard. The paths were hard, your feet getting slightly muddied, and even your water was slowly running thin, leather skin holding about a day’s worth of water left. Your food was stocked, collecting apples from the nature above, but you knew you needed a proper meal if you had not a clue of when you were to arrive at your hidden destination.

You knew what you were searching for. You just did not know where to search.

Sighing, you felt your spirits dampen the further you lumbered on, the mass rings of hair wound around your other arm a heavy weight. The locks were endless, making a trail behind you. You tried to gather up as much hair as you could manage, but the damned mess refused to listen. Irritancy furrowed your brows, and you let out a shallow sigh, cursing fate for being so cruel.

Within the trees, you spotted an opening - a sliver of light beyond the tunnel of nature. You gasped, picking up the pace of your feet, running out and breaking free of the leafy barrier.

Before you were not the opening fields you expected, but rather a small pond, cocooned within the trees you ploughed through. The water looked pure, glimmering from the sunlight which now freely fell upon the opening. It was a peaceful sight, but still could not stop the disappointment reaching your face as you slumped your shoulders.

Brilliant.Yet another dead end.

You were about to head for the pond when you heard distant shouting. 

Fear froze over you, expecting your mother breaking through the bushes.

Your instincts had you dashing for the trees again, gathering your hair and hiding behind the bushes. The aggravated voice grew louder, but the closer it came, you realised with confusion that it was not laced with anger. It was laced with pain.

Suddenly, something broke out of the bushes. You nearly let out a childish yelp.

It was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. 

Hell, it was the only man you had ever seen - you would have kept staring in awe were not your features distorted with worry. This man stumbled to a nearby tree looking over the pond, one hand clinging onto the trunk as the other hugged his abdomen, fingers stained with the blood caked upon his turquoise vest. Dear God, there was so much blood.

He whirled, back to the trunk, and slumped down, legs spread before him as his mouth parted, letting out shallow breaths as he tried to stop the bleeding. His head frantically darted, looking everywhere, and then tilted his head back against the wood as he closed his eyes. Sweat matted his locks, beaded down his cheeks, and he hissed as his hand held his bloodied side tighter. His satchel had been discarded before the pond, a few papers and food spilling from the opening.

You watched him whither slowly, fingers threading through your hair. You wanted to help; of course you did, but you held back. Perhaps fear still crept at the back of your neck, but you hid behind the bushes, waiting for what might happen.

Minutes later, you wished you ran to his help instead. The man, after heaving rapidly, left his hand upon the wound, thumping down on the ground, slumping fully against the tree.

Your eyes widened at the realisation. 

In that space of a few seconds, you knew. 

Whoever he was, you had to save him.

Feet nearly stumbling upon huge tree roots, you rushed around the pond. Hair getting caught in a few twigs, you did not glance back as you tugged at the meters of locks, the man’s face now closer in your vision.

You dropped down to where he sagged against the trunk, unrolling your locks from your arm, eyes darting frantically to his figure. Instantly finding the horrific wound, cutting through the fabric and his skin, you slide your hand through curtains of your hair, taking out a long trail and tugging the ends to you. 

With hesitation, but then determined certainty, your hands unbuttoned the man’s vest, taking every single nerve in your body not to glance at his face. The white shirt underneath was stained with blood as well, which you raised up to his top part of his chest, exposing his granite-hard abdomen. You would have even blushed were it not such a grave situation you found yourself in, blood oozing out of the injury.

With a final, long draw of breath, you grabbed the locks of your hair, carefully tying them around the man’s waist. You made sure the strands covered every single ribboned area of his stomach, praying to fate for this miracle. The only injuries you had treated were cuts from paper and burns from hot trays of cupcakes. A slash this deep and serious was going to be another matter entirely.

Once you were done securing the hair, you put your hand upon the locks guarding the injury, and closed your eyes.

The words that left your mouth nearly silenced the forest.

“Flower, gleam and glow.”

A spark.

“Let your power shine.”

You felt the glow hum beneath your fingers.

“Make the clock reverse.

“Bring back what once, was mine.”

You dared not open your eyes as you sang, sensing the miracle of your hair threading itself around the unconscious man, assessing the wound, driving inside and repairing the damage done upon his skin. You dared not stop singing, fearing for his life.

“Heal what has been hurt.”

The magic obliged to your call, slowly knitting the wound, working on the scarring, the loss of blood. 

“Change the Fate’s design.”

The lost flesh formed miraculously underneath your fingertips, tendrils of muscle knitting within itself, saving the abdomen from complete ruination. You carried on, squeezing your eyes further shut.

“Save what has been lost.”

You felt the damp blood dry in the moments, the newly created muscle now raising your hand slightly as warmth radiated around you, courtesy of the otherworldly glow of your hair. It comforted your nerves, still there despite knowing you had brought the man out of grave danger.

“Bring back what once was mine…”

You took a deep breath, both hands upon his wound.

“What once was mine.”

You paused.

Opened your eyes.

There he still was, leaned back before you, dreaming away with a restored peace, lost when he got slashed in his gut. His top half was splayed out before you, abdomen all healed save for a dried blood scattered here and there. You turned to the pond, straining as you cupped some water and splashed it upon the crust, hitching your dress and using the ends to wipe the mess away. 

As you wiped you looked up at his face — it was then you noticed the little details; his closed eyes, the groomed brows — the straight nose, gosh, the full lips, slightly parted mouth. You could not help but stare at the man, sleeping in tranquility with the nature around him. It was almost like he did not possess a grave wound moments before.

You realised when you glanced down that he was still bare waist up, and with heated cheeks raised your hands to the hem gathered at the top of his chest. Your eyes darted, and locked with his open ones, and reverted back to the shirt to yank it down—

You stopped completely in your tracks. 

Widened your eyes.

Tilted your head up to see the man’s opened eyes, just as wide as yours, the lips you shamelessly stared at not so long ago parted more. 

It was a few seconds before the heavy silence was shattered.

With the man’s rather shrill scream.

“OH MY GOD—!”

Suddenly he wasn��t slumped against the tree, but shooting straight up, backing away from you. Stunned, you retreated a few steps too, watching his slender eyes nearly shoot out of his sockets.

“Who are you?! What did you do to me?! How am I not dead—?!” his questions kept coming, head darting to where his satchel lay. He jumped towards it, frantically searching for some kind of weapon only to find a few posters and salted meat. He then perked his head towards you, immediately positioning himself in a fighting stance, fists out.

“Don’t make me fight you, girl!” he exclaimed, warning written in his face. “If I have no sword I can fight with my fists!”

That was a convenient time to whip out a weapon of your own, but you only argued with words.

“I’m not here to hurt you, I promise!” you reasoned, hands raised. 

“Then why were you so close?! Bombarded in my face and fiddling with my shirt?!” he showed off his chest, now covered by the white material, turquoise vest still open. “Oh, dear God, what did you do?!”

“Nothing!” you proclaimed, pointing towards your chest. “I only healed your wounds!” You took a step closer. “You were going to die!”

Hesitantly, the man followed your finger, lifting his shirt up to see his side, completely free of scarring, of the slash that haunted his skin. He then looked to you once more, anger being replaced with pure fear.

He let out another unnecessary scream.

“WITCH!” 

The tree stopped him backing up any further, and he watched you with pure horror, expecting you to grow fangs, form claws and gut you mercilessly. You only regarded the beautiful, yet rather silly man with incredulity.

“I’m not a witch,” you grumbled, crossing your arms, “I just have hair that glows when I sing.”

That did not help your situation at all.

“Because that’s normal, is it not?!” he yelped, and dashed behind the tree, taking notice of your hair. “And having a kingdom's worth of hair on your head isn’t something out of a grim fairytale?!”

“Well that ‘grim fairytale’-like hair is what saved you from death,” you snapped, hand slipping into your satchel, feeling the handle of your frying pan. “Ungrateful man!”

“Witch!” he growled right back.

“Ungrateful man!”

“Witch!”

“Ungrateful man!”

The man soured up, his raven locks caressing his cheeks as the wind rustled the forest. Both of you stared each other down, pan-handle jutting out of the satchel, and the other’s fists raised once more, half of his figure behind the tree still. None of you backed down. None of you dared lose to the other.

Minutes past, the only sound being the water softly lapping in the pond. The man let out a sigh, breaking the stare.

“I’m leaving.”

He picked up his satchel, a stray poster falling to the ground. You watched it descend, asking, “What, where?”

“None of your business.” He dusted himself off, buttoning up his vest. “I can’t waste my time here.”

You ignored his cold answer, and picked up the poster. It advertised the day of the Fireworks, a couple of weeks away, and boasted of the activities happening in the Kingdom of Corona. 

An excited gasp escaped you.

“You!” 

The man turned, frowning. “What now?”

You ran to where he stood, blocking his vision with the poster. “You know of Corona? Do you know where it is?”

Grunting, he waved the paper away from his face. “Of course I do.” He slung his bag over his head. “I was going to go there before I got rudely stabbed.”

A thrilling wave washed over you, barely containing your smile. “You’re still going then, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but—” the man stopped talking.

Began glaring at you.

“You’re not coming with me.”

The smile fell instantly.

“But wait!” You hurried over to him, but he reflexively dodged your advances. “We’re journeying to the same destination!”

“So?” He straightened his vest once more, and turned his icy stare towards you. “That, if I can remember correctly, is not my problem.” 

“But I do not know where the Kingdom is!” You tried to break his shell, the constant rejections of teaming up. 

“Refer to my previous point, witch.”

“I’m not a witch!” you sniped, getting more and more irritated with his discouraging demeanour. “I save you from the claws of oblivion, and this is how you repay me!”

He gritted his teeth. “I never asked you to save me.”

You scoffed, shocked by his total lack of gratitude. “Oh, really?” You finally brought out your own weapon. “Then I can gladly bring you back to your original state!”

The man stared at the black frying pan before bursting into laughter.

His shameless laughter made you even angrier, and you swung the pan back, another bad remark and it’ll hit home.

“A frying pan!” He gasped out, clutching his stomach. “What are you going to do? Fry my food to hurt me?”

You let out a roar as you swung the pan right onto his head.

With a sharp PANG! It banged against his head and the man let out a hideous yelp, gripping his head.

“What are you doing?!” he cried out, doubling over before the pond. 

You only positioned yourself once more, the weapon hovering above your head. “Don’t insult my frying pan ever again. Nor my hair, you bastard.”

He groaned painfully in response, massaging his head to soothe the pain of the metal. “How do you think,” he guttered, looking over his shoulder at you, “I’m ever going to let you come with me after you nearly knocked me out?”

You did not break his stare. “Because I can easily do it again.

“Take me to the Kingdom of Corona. I saved your life, and it’s the least you can do in return.”

Again, the battle of eyes, refusing to surrender. You did not even know the man’s name, but you wished to swing the frying pan upon him, really make sure to wreck that awfully beautiful face.

That made you scowl further. Why was he so ravishing?

Whether it was your stubbornness, or the promise of another beating, the man stood straighter, a heavy exhale leaving his lips.

“Fine. You win.”

He turned fully to you, not leaving your eyes. 

“You may accompany me to the Kingdom.”

The minute the words left his mouth, you flung your arms back, letting out a howl of victory.

“I’m going to see the fireworks!”

You ran around the tree, hair looping around the trunk as you hooted in pleasure. “I’m going to see the fireworks, I’m going to see the fireworks, I’m going to see the fireworks!

The man, still caressing his head, hissed at the commotion you made. “Oh, be quiet!”

Ignoring him completely, you continued your unpredictable running, until the former trudged up and stopped you in his tracks, gripping you by your arms.

“Stop!”

You returned his sour expression with a brilliant smile. “I can’t help it! I’ve been wanting to see the fireworks for a very long time.”

“Whatever.” He let you go, looking around the forest. “But before we go anywhere…”

He settled his eyes upon you. For once, there wasn’t any scorn alight in them. 

“At least you can tell me your name.”

You pondered a bit. “Tell me yours first.”

The man rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He held out his hand.

“Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin, at your service, even though I don’t wish to be.”

You stared at his hand. 

“Why did you raise your hand at me?” You asked in confusion, pan still in yours.

The man — Hyunjin — regarded you in disbelief. “You...you don’t…?” He cocked his head, retracting his hand. “Where did you come from, witch?”

“Again with the witch!” You exclaimed, cutting distance to his face, hovering the pan under his chin in warning. 

“How about,” he started, lowering your weapon with his hand, “You pause the constant threats, and tell me your name?”

With a cautious eye still upon him, you obliged. “____.”

“____,” he repeated. “____,” he continued, as if tasting the very name that identified you. “Well, then, ____, the first thing we’re to do is search for Kkami.”

“Kkami?” Your eyes followed his every move, as he brought out his own leather skin, filling it with the water from the pond. You reflected his move, replenishing your own water.

“My horse,” he clarified, placing the skin within his satchel, closing the straps. “He must not be far.”

That snippet of information nearly had you screaming. “You have a horse?!” You asked eagerly, earning a hiss from the man.

“What are you so excited for? It’s just a horse.” He then sighed, tying locks of his hair in a half-up ponytail. “Yes, I do have a horse. So does half the kingdom.”

“I’ve never seen a horse before my eyes,” you explained, wonder misting your eyes, yet clearing your mind. You knew you had to find this ‘Kkami’ soon.

Hyunjin glanced at you, curiosity knitted onto his features. “You really do surprise me. It’s as if you’ve never left your home in your life.”

You could only offer him a smile. “You can say that again.”

“Come.” He started up a rather fast walk, separating the bushes with his hands. “He must not be far.”

You followed his trail, sparing one last look over your shoulder at the pond, then turning towards this Hwang Hyunjin, the man who would lead you to your destination. 

The Fireworks of Corona.

For the next hours calls for Kkami were being pursued by the two of you, with little to no result, for a horse could not possibly call back on his searchers. Hyunjin showed no mercy in his marching, and you refused to let him show you mercy, despite your legs on the brink of collapsing.

After another hour the both of you broke away from the forests, and found a cobblestone road, leading to an unknown destination. Signs decorated the pole standing on the opposite side of the road, and the man stepped onto the path, assessing the places mentioned.

“Ah!” He spoke out after. “The Wolf’s Den.” 

“What is that? Your home?”

“An inn, not far from here.” He looked to his left, the continuing pathway. “I stop there often in between journeys, so perhaps Kkami went there to wait for me.”

“Well, what are you standing around here for?” You sprung up in front of him, a tired grin etched into your features, a beacon of hope now beyond the road. That inn better be within the next ten steps.

Sure enough, there were only mere minutes of walking before you set your eyes upon a wooden cottage, it’s sign, displaying The Wolf’s Den, swaying within the cool woodland breeze. Distant noise was heard while you both walked towards the inn, howling and boisterous laughter ringing through the forest.

Hyunjin let out a sigh of relief, picking up the pace of his stride. 

Confused, you followed his line of sight, and let out an excited gasp at what he ran towards. 

Horses. Real horses, right before your eyes.

There were different colours of the animal, slick brown and black and white coats, but the one the man strolled towards, almost a skip in his step, possessed the opposite colours, black and white scattered upon its body, an unusual yet beautiful combination. The horse softly neighed when its owner laid a nurturing hand upon him, whispering greetings to him. 

It was so...ethereal. Even if horses were common animals, seeing one for the first time from your own eyes rather than the pages of a children’s book made all the difference. 

Hyunjin, feeling your blatant staring, glanced back, a groomed brow raised. “What is the unnerving staring for?”

You snapped out of the bubble of your thoughts, instantly souring over his comment. “I was just looking at your horse,” you mumbled. 

“Oh my. You really were not kidding, then.” The other brow then joined its partner. “Are you going to faint if we come across a donkey?”

You gave him a scowl. “Shut up!”

He huffed out a laugh, patting his horse once more before walking around to the entrance, tilting his head up to assess the whole inn. He then looked past at you, still admiring Kkami. “I’m going to go inside for a bit. You stay out here.”

Again, you perked up, furrowing your brows. “Why can’t I come in?”

Gritting his teeth, he said, “Don’t argue! The inn’s full of madmen, and you’ll get scared.”

“You don’t know that!” you cross your arms, shooting him a mean glare. “I can take care of myself!”

“Just stay outside!” he exclaimed, wrenching open the door and storming inside, a loud bell indicating his presence as the door closed behind him.

You scream in anger at the door as if Hyunjin was still there in front of you. Dear God, he didn’t have to be such a pain in the rear!

Stubbornly, you stepped right to the door, opening it just a little bit, sticking your head inside. 

Your eyes widened at the sight of the inn.

About a few dozen men were creating disorder, drinking away in big glasses, shouting and hollering, even threatening to throw punches at one another in a rather strange state of mind. Sweet singing was heard over the melody of the piano, a man’s rich voice adding softness to the anarchy. You noticed men stumbling around tables and slurring their words, your curiosity being stained with a little fear. 

Why were these men acting like fools?

You opened the door a little wider, hand on it still as you stepped inside, the other hand holding onto your bundles of hair.

Your eyes settled on Hyunjin squeezing past the crowd, walking up to the counter, where a line of men were already settled, different coloured drinks in their hands. A handsome man, of similar age to your companion, greeted him with a dazzling smile. “Hyunjin!” he welcomed warmly, raising his hands.

You saw your grumpy companion sit down on the high chairs, not particularly returning the smile.. “Chan,” he started, putting his elbows on the counter top. “Any news?”

“The news is that you should rest,” this Chan countered, pouring a dark-red liquid in a glass, sliding it to his friend. “When was the last time you slept properly?”

His concern was waved off, as Hyunjin sipped on his drink, completely unaware of your presence. “When Jisung didn’t run off with my treasures.”

Chan’s smile faded, as he looked frantically around, lowering his voice. “What? Jisung betrayed you?”

Hyunjin kept darting his eyes back to you. “Let’s not dwell too much on it. My main objective is to find him.” 

The bartender parted his mouth, worry in his features. “And...and what will you do when you find him?”

You saw the man’s face darken. “I will make him regret fucking with me.”

A small gasp escaped you, hands coming to your sides. This fury was of another scale entirely, and it made you almost shudder at his need for vengeance.

You were about to take a step further when the door shut completely. 

The bell rang, a lot louder than you had imagined. 

The chaos quietened at the sound, all eyes turning to the door.

Then at you, with all your seventy feet locks, trailing out the shut door.

And if that didn’t ennerve you entirely, then the look on Hyunjin’s face as he slowly got up from his seat, that same cold fury now focused on you, definitely did. 

You nearly yelped out a cry of help.

The melody of the piano continued, and before all the men could come pounce on you, your hands dropped the tumbles of hair, falling at your feet as you grabbed your pan and raised it in warning.

Hyunjin thundered past the others, though, hair bobbing with each step as he stopped right behind the pan you raised in defence.

“I told you to stay outside,” he guttered.

You only craned your neck back, matching his stare. “You do not tell me what to do.”

“I swear to God—”

He was cut off when Chan eased past his customers, stopping beside Hyunjin as he widened his eyes at your arrival.

“Oh my,” he started, a small glance at the pan. “Miss, none of us intend to hurt you, do put the...your weapon down.”

Your eyes did not stray from Hyunjin’s. “One of you does.”

The owner of the tavern raised a brow at his friend. “Well, he won’t hurt you as long as he’s under this roof.”

He then blessed your eyes with a smile. “The name’s Bang Chan,” he said, hand stretched out. You took it, just how the ladies in your books did, and felt the expected kiss on the back. “What may I call you?”

“____,” you offered. 

“Don’t let Hyunjin’s usually foul demeanour dampen your spirits,___,” Chan continued, leading you further into the tavern, the men unable to keep their eyes from you.

“Oh, so he’s always like this?” you mused, the already sour glare grilling into you. 

The man leading you to a seat laughed, a single cheek dimpling. “Don’t you worry about him,___.” he snapped his fingers, the man playing the piano stopping, being replaced with another as he came down the stairs. “Worry about what drink you would like.”

“No!” Hyunjin cut in immediately, daggering the men around him with his gaze. “Do not even think about giving her anything.”

You scoffed louder than usual so the long-haired man would hear. “I would very much like a drink, thank you, Mr. Bang.” 

The manager chuckled at the game of cat and mouse, pulling a seat for you to settle down into. “Chan is perfectly fine, ____.” He then turned to his friend. “Don’t fret too much, I’m only offering some ale.”

As if on cue, another fine, slender man, who was just playing the piano, presented you with a huge mug of the diluted alcohol, a soft smile etched onto his lips. You melted at his demeanour, accepting the object with a thank you. He then glanced at your companion, smile slightly fading.

“I assume you have heard about Jisung?”

Hyunjin cocked his head, a watchful eye still on you as you took a careful sip, eyes widening at the slight, sweet tang to the drink. “Of course. The bastard tried to stab me.”

“Dear God,” was his answer. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” The feline gaze was more prominent, and you did not know why you began to drink the ale a little faster. “I escaped death...perhaps by witchcraft.”

You held in the urge to roll your eyes. 

Hyunjin then fully focused his attention upon the musician. “Wait, Seungmin, how did you know of this?”

“Jisung came to the inn.” 

Chan looked to his coworker. “I did not see him arrive.”

Seungmin shook his head, you right in the middle of these men as you finished your first mug. Another sweet customer poured you some more from his serving, and you clinked your drink with his, continuing to watch. “You were tending to Kkami. It was very quick, he came and went.”

“What did he tell you?” Hyunjin demanded. 

“Well, firstly he told me you and him had gone your separate ways.” Seungmin propped a finger of his chin, thinking some more. “Which made me a little sceptical, since both of you are joined at the hip. Anyway, he said you gave him whatever you both had picked up on your adventures, and that he was going to Corona and sell them off.”

A curse was emitted over this information. You wanted to know why that was such a problem, but in reality all you wanted was more ale. “Chan?” You called, holding out the mug. The owner of the inn immediately took care of your request, filling the mug to the brim and setting it upon the wooden table. 

“That is quite enough,” Hyunjin declared, trying to pry the drink from you when you slapped his hand away, shooting him with what you thought was a terrifying glare. 

In reality, the men around him began to laugh at your attempt of intimidation, which looked more like a child pouting over a scolding. Your companion tried again to take the mug away but this time you hugged the drink as tightly as you could, some of the contents spilling lightly onto your top. 

“I swear—” he muttered, but then angrily shook his head, dismissing you entirely.  “Seungmin, do you know when he plans to go to Corona?”

The said-man furrowed his brows in thought. “He did seem in a bit of a rush. I reckon he has already found buyers and is riding to the city as we speak.”

Hyunjin poked his tongue out under his cheek, clearly not content with this new information. Chan, sensing his discomfort, put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry too much,” he reassured him. 

“I must leave for the capital now,” the younger said, and the other knitted his brows in irritancy.

“But you just arrived!”

“I can’t let Jisung get away with this,” Hyunjin muttered, and suddenly the words of his departure truly hit you.

“NO!”

All the men flinched at you shrill call, the one you knew the most sending you his typical bitter glare. “You, firstly,” he drawled, pointing an accusatory finger at you, “Need to stop drinking!”

“But I’ve only had two mugs!” you exclaimed. “And it only tastes like water!”

“It’s three, actually,” he corrected, propping both hands on his hips. “And I do not want some whiny, drunk witch while I travel.”

“Hyunjin!” Chan scolded, instantly at your side. “Why are you calling the poor girl a witch?”

“Mr. Chan,” you recited, as if you were a bard about to sing poetry, “This insufferable man has been abusing me with this term all day!”

A gasp escaped the owner of the bar, who then frowned at the man accused. “You monster!”

“Dear God,” he mumbled, ready to leave the inn then and there. It was a shame that he owed you a favour, or else he would have abandoned you in the forest.

Hwang Hyunjin did not like doing favours for others. Even if they derived from pretty young ladies with magical hair. 

A scowl marred his full lips at the strange thought. 

“I am not leaving,” you declared, dragging him down to reality as you took a hefty gulp of your ale. You smacked the cup down, eyes never leaving his. “And you are going to stay with me till I am done.”

That’ll show him. You were extremely confident that he would listen, now that you told him off. Your brain, now a little fuzzy, praised you for standing your ground, along with a smiling Chan and Seungmin. Wait, did Chan have a twin? He did not before, so why was there two of him before you?

“Oh, hurry up, then!” The man roared, and you flinched from his tone before the words settled in. That then caused you to harbour a complacent smile upon your face, and when he caught sight of it he let out a groan. “And for God’s sake, get me something to drink!”

Seungmin obliged, chuckling at his friend’s tantrum, and Chan only ruffled his half-ponytail, messing it up slightly. “That’s the spirit, Hyunjin,” he said. “Learn to relax.” 

“How can I relax when my ex-partner is about to sell off everything we made together?”

“Even Jisung would need his rest,” the elder countered, sitting the younger down onto the seat opposite yours, which looked a little less sharp even with your blinking. Were these the consequences of drinking? Were there consequences for drinking?

Well, you did not seem to care. Not when it tasted so divine. 

“If I do not catch the bastard because of this wit-ow!” he was interrupted by a pinch of his gut, done by Chan over his lack of manners. “I mean girl!

“If this girl—” he knifed you with a look, which you returned with a feline grin, as you drank some more. “—is the reason I do not catch Jisung, I will willingly kill her in his place.”

“Whatever you say!” you hollered much too loud, earning a deep snarl from the man as Seungmin curved through the customers and brought more drinks, propping his friend’s drink before him. 

Hyunjin wrapped his fingers around the black handle, and on cue, you raised your own mug. 

“To catching whoever annoyed pony boy this time!” you declared in a mighty roar.

Laughter rang from all around the tavern, yet the man you targeted only grumbled, awkwardly clutching tufts of his locks before taking a swig of his drink. 

Alcohol was shared throughout the evening, an airy and boisterous atmosphere lingering in the candle-lit room, orchestrated by you as you told your dream of seeing the famous fireworks of Corona. You informed them through ale-tainted words of their importance for you, as they happened on your birthday without fail every year, and when the men around you heard they all hooted an early happy birthday to you, all toasting to you and your contentment. 

At one point, at what you thought was your fifth glass, you scrambled on top of the table, to Hyunjin’s absolute horror, and you requested another toast.

“To people like me and you!” you exclaimed to the tavern, and everyone cheered so loudly that you thought your ears would lose its purpose. 

You then had the brilliant idea to try and jump down from the table - why, you were ready to take the leap when you heard a frightened yelp. Looking down, blinking hard to differentiate one man from another, you saw Hyunjin shooting up from his seat, arms reaching out.

With your mouth parted you felt his long, slender hands grip each side of your waist, and a small gasp escaped you as you as he lifted you in his arms, setting you down upon the tavern stone as quickly as he picked you up. His hands nearly left their place on you when you looked into his eyes, yours so wide at what he did he reflected your action.

Even in the chaos of the tavern around you, you found slight peace within his stone-cold eyes.

The tranquility was short-lived, when he shook his head, hands straying as they gripped the empty mug, turning to Chan, who was downing his own third beer of the night. “I’m going to take my leave now,” he said. 

“But it is past dusk!” The owner stood his ground, gathering all the empty mugs. “I cannot have you trotting about in this forest.

“And look—” he pointed to you, who was asking around for yet another mug-full of ale, being guiltily refused by the men surrounding you. “—she is in no state to travel. You both need rest.”

“We are fine,” Hyunjin insisted. “I will take care of the damned witch.”

“Stop it,” Chan warned, setting the objects upon the counter. “Just because she has hair which could wrap around our inn ten times, doesn’t mean she’s a witch.”

“Pony boyyy!”

Grimacing, Hyunjin turned to catch you, offering him a lop-sided smile as you stumbled up to him. “Ponyboy, serve me some ale!”

“Oh my God,” he muttered, looking you over, assessing your rather ridiculous state. “____, we are leaving.”

“Leaving?!” You repeated one horror. “But we cannot leave now!”

“That is what I am saying too!” Chan chimed in. 

Hyunjin did not acknowledge his friend’s comment, though. Only your refusal, as he propped his hands on his hips, leaning into you with brows furrowed. 

“___,” he whispered, and, oh, why was your breath abandoning you? “You come with me, or I can easily leave you here. You carry on drinking, hmm?”

Well, there it was. Of course, all you wanted to do at the time was drink till only the Den’s ale ran through your veins, but in reality, you knew your situation. The fireworks were mere days away, and although you would have gladly asked any of the others to accompany you to spare the agitation of this long-haired man, you could not dump yourself onto his friends. At least the former owed you a favour.

You had to see the fireworks. And only Hwang Hyunjin could show you in time.

“Fine,” you mumbled, but Hyunjin raised a hand to his ear, mocking a confused expression. 

“Wait, I’m sorry, what were you saying?” 

“Damn you, I said fine!” you exclaimed right into his ear, making him flinch. “I’m coming with you!” 

His amusement had not faded entirely, though, as a ghost of a smile still lingered on his lips. He turned to Bang Chan, who already had his arms held out. “You better not die,” he mused, and the long-haired man only scoffed before hugging his dear friend. 

Seungmin, then playing on the piano, waved his hand in goodbye, sending a flying kiss Hyunjin’s way, smiling adorably when the latter rolled his eyes. 

Chan also kissed your hand in respect, holding onto to it as you tried to steady yourself. “Farewell, ____,” he said with a radiant smile. “We will try and find you both in the capital if we can find the time.”

“Thank you for the drinks, Mr. Chan!” you yelled with too much enthusiasm, earning a chuckle from the man. “I wish I could repay you, but-”

“There is no need,” he countered kindly, waving off your concern. “Any friend of Hyunjin’s is a friend of mine.”

Scrunching your nose at the thought, you found the said-man already at the door, calling for you to hurry up or else he’ll dump you here and go alone. Sticking your tongue out, you bid your remaining farewells, waving to Seungmin before whirling, the whole tavern chanting goodbye to you as you followed, rather clumsily, Hyunjin out of The Wolf’s Den.

The cool, night air kissed your face as you stepped out into the forest, blinking excessively to familiarise yourself with your surroundings. Soft neighing was heard beside you, and you turned to the sound, finding Hyunjin going through his satchel, now strapped upon Kkami. The boy spared a glance towards you before saying, “Let’s get going.”

You looked at the horse, and suddenly you realised how big the animal really was. You feared even trying to slide your foot in the stirrup, knowing you would fall flat on your rear. 

Hyunjin, noticing your uncertainty, huffed out a malicious chuckle. “Oh, so now the bold little witch is scared, now? Of riding a horse?”

“The pan is right beside me,” you warned, wishing your glare would have intimidated the man who teased you. In reality, it only made him laugh some more. “And you already know I’ve never seen a horse in real life, let alone ride one.”

The man watched you rather pityingly, stroking Kkami’s mane before sighing. “Come here, then,” he started, patting the saddle. 

You tilted your head, confused. “For what?” You scowled at him, lower lip jutting out. “I am not going anywhere near you.”

“Well then, I hope you enjoy walking in forests at midnight,” he said, holding onto the reins as he propped one foot atop the stirrup. “All alone.”

He was about to hoist himself upon his horse when you groaned out, running to him, hair trailing after you. “Fine! Help me get up the bloody animal!”

Shaking his head, he descended upon the grass before you walked right up to Kkami, a little too big for your liking. He inhaled, a little too loudly, and then his hands gripped your waist, hoisting you up. 

You nearly yelped at the contact but remembered to grip onto the reins, propping one leg over the other. Your dress hitched a little higher with the distance, and you felt the eyes of your companion upon the exposed skin for barely a second before he grasped the pommel of his saddle, and climbed atop the horse. 

It was then you noticed the sheer closeness of him, right behind you, even more so when he leaned forward, taking the reins from you, his head hovering near yours. If you were not influenced by alcohol, you would have screamed at him for daring to approach you, but you were influenced, enough for a strange, sensational feeling to hit your gut. You tried your best to ignore it as you swiped the air with your raised pan, holding onto your bundles of hair.

“To the Kingdom, Pony boy!”

“Oh, be quiet!” Was his answer before snapping the reins, Kkami instantly obliging.

You instantly lurched back at the sheer force of the horse’s galloping, a shuddering breath whooshing out of you as you collided with Hyunjin’s chest. The animal picked up the pace immediately and swept through the vast expanse of the forest, the light of the moon guiding your way. You held onto the pommel of the saddle, occasionally letting yourself lean against the man behind you. If he noticed you closing the distance, he did not say anything of it.

Soon, the ball of light which accompanied you on your journey was halfway through its own, indicating that midnight had long passed. Fatigue crept up your mind, but with every bounce of the horse had you perking up, irritation marring your features.

“Hyunjiiin,” you whined, watching trees upon trees sweeping past you. “Can we rest already?”

You rather felt more than heard his sigh. “We need to get to the capital.” He snapped the reins, urging Kkami to gallop faster. “It’s already a two-day journey, we need to be as fast as possible.”

This was not acceptable in your mind. Holding onto your hair, you looked over your shoulder, catching your guide watching his path ahead. “But Hyunjin, I am tired!”

“That sounds more like a personal problem to me, ____,” he only said, raising a brow at you. The pathways became thinner, branches barely missing your heads. 

“Hyunjiiiiin!”

“What?!” he demanded, turning a right, past the signs. “Stop vexing me, already!”

“Pony boy, I will jump off Kkami if you don’t listen to me!” You warned, already sliding slightly off the saddle. With slight concern you realised that the horse was riding a little too fast for your drunken liking.

“Oh, I dare you to,” the man growled in your ear, already so irritated with your constant rambling. You, on the other hand, found no fear from his threat, only wishing he had not dared you to do something so risky.

Because now, you were going to do just that.

A thunderous shout escaped Hyunjin as you swiped your left leg over, sitting sideways upon the horse and ready to jump off and to your very possible death. With one hand guiding the reins his other immediately stopped you, wrapping around your stomach and pulling you straight against his chests.

“What in fine heavens are you doing?!” The man screamed in anger, causing you to wince. Kkami slowed with the pull of the reins. 

You looked up at him, wide eyes with confusion. “Why, what you dared me to!” You answered, as if it was a reasonable action to commit.

Hyunjin did not seem to agree with you on this. “You...you—”

“If you do not stop over, Pony Boy, I will jump once again!” you warned him, already wanting to squirm out of his grip if the damned man was not so strong.

You then flinched when an enraged cry escaped Hyunjin, pulling harshly on KKami’s reins. On command, the horse began to slow its galloping, and when your companion searched for a place to stay he spotted a little opening within the trees, a plain, grassy area among the oaks and bushes. Hyunjin, leading the group into this space, sighed in relief when he saw a little pond among the greenery, and stopped his horse before the calm waters.

The man, swinging his leg carefully behind you, got off the horse, and you waited for him to bring you down, only for him to create distance between you two as he propped his satchel before a large oak tree.

“Ponyboyyy,” you called, but he only looked back, knifing you with a glare. 

“Oh, so now you’re afraid to get off the horse?” he taunted, fisted hands upon his hips. “What about ten bloody minutes ago when you were ready to jump to your death?”

“I was a different person then.”

“No!” he countered right away, practically ripping out an apple from his bag. “No, you are still the same, drunk, witch who keeps putting a giant dump on my plans!”

You had the audacity to giggle. “I did not take any dumps on your plan, silly! In fact, was it not me who saved you?”

“Oh, be quiet!” he only demanded, making you laugh a little uncontrollably. 

“Will you help me down, already?” you sang out, only to irritate your companion some more. “Or will I have to risk breaking my legs?”

The prolonged silence had you nearly sliding off the horse when you heard his heavy footsteps, harsh grumbling sounding from the trees until Hyunjin advanced to where you sat, dropping your locks of hair upon the ground. Strong hands held onto your waist, and you grabbed onto his shoulders quicker than you thought, clinging onto him as he descended you from Kkami, neighing from the lack of passengers.

His hands left your sides instantly, and you did not know why you missed their presence. Perhaps the alcohol messed with your mind a little too much.

You watched as Hyunjin began to collect some wood, a few thick branches from the trees and bushes scattered around the grasslands. Hair trailing behind, you walked to where he dumped the wood beside the pond, settling yourself with your satchel strapped to you.

Your eyes lingered on him still when he sat down beside you, maintaining a distance as he brought out his flint and steel. Creating fiction, he swiped against the materials until a spark was ignited, and quickly he brought it near the wood until the spark caught on. The man began to blow softly as the fire expanded, catching onto every twig and branch until it spread to the very ends of the wood, illuminating the empty expanse. 

Hyunjin brought out a few edibles, while you hugged yourself a little tighter, the past-midnight air powering over the fire. He looked over the strips of meat, and slid his eyes to your satchel.

“Pass me your pan.”

You squint your eyes at him. “And why do you want my pan?”

The man cocked his head, locks of raven hair spilling over his shoulder. “Why would I want a frying pan, ____?” 

“Don’t be smart with me!” You chanted, opening up your satchel, the black utensil in display. 

“Just give me the damned thing,” he ordered, holding out a hand. You, on the other hand, curled a smile upon your lips as you brought it out, refusing to give him the pan.

“What is the magic word?” You asked, all sweet and sugary.

Hyunjin’s brows dipped in annoyance. “Now!”

“Wrong!” You sang out, swinging the pan in your hand. The gesture seemed to tick the man off even more. “Guess again.”

“____!” He snapped, and you let out a cackle at his reaction. “I am extremely tired and hungry, so stop toying with me and hand me the bloody frying pan.”

“Fine!” You responded, and did not realise the full intensity of you whacking the pan to him till it hit Hyunjin right in the face.

A pained groan escaped him as he dropped his meat, hand instantly rushing to his face to cover the scratch marring his cheek. You let out a shocked gasp, eyes instantly looking at his covered face.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry,” you began, hands reaching to his wrists, but he turned away from you, hissing. 

“Damn it,” he cursed, pulling away slightly, and with slight distress saw an angry cut across his cheek. “Are you crazy?”

“Hyunjin, I’m so, so, so sorry, please—” you were about to beg for forgiveness when you had an idea. 

“Oh yes!” you exclaimed, which was not received well with the injured beside you. You ignored his grumbling, and grabbed his wrist. “Wait, Ponyboy! Stop covering your face!”

“Stop calling me Ponyboy!” he retorted, but that was not important when you knew how to fix your little mistake. 

You brought his hands from his face, and you blinked several times to notice the slash of the rusty pan. “Wait, stay still—”

“What are you trying to do?” he demanded, trying to pry your hands off but then you impaled him with your stare. 

“Ponyboy, let me help.”

He matched your glower. “What are you going to do, huh? Save me again?”

You did not answer him, separating a small section of your hair as you wrapped it lightly around your finger. You then reached that hand out, bracing yourself for the touch.

The first caress of your fingers against Hyunjin’s cheek had him completely freezing his complaints. 

Noticing, you were careful — so, so careful, when you relished the softness of his skin. It was incredibly unfair; had this man not travelled places, gotten himself in filthy situations, only for his skin to be flawless? You knitted your brows at this detail.

“I’m going to sing, now, okay?” you murmured to him. “Do not be scared over what happens.”

“Oh, because something magical is going to happen, no?” he taunted, eyes darting between you and you hair-engulfed fingers. 

You only smiled at his ignorance before you closed your eyes. 

Wait, how did the song go again? 

Oh yes. I remember. Stupid ale. I’m never drinking again.

You parted your mouth and began to sing.

“Flower, gleam and glow.”

Hyunjin stopped breathing.

“Let your power shine.

Make the clock reverse.

Bring back what once, was mine.”

Hwang Hyunjin stopped breathing, ceased completely because the moment the words fluttered from your mouth, the moment your hair began to glow all over, like molten lava slowly spreading over a volcano, he did not know how to function.  

You continued to sing, distinctly aware of his eerie stillness as the hair, brushing against his cheek, performed its healing on the cut, forming more flesh from the damaged skin and repairing itself.

“Heal what has been hurt.

Change the Fate’s design.”

The verses rolled off your tongue, never opening your eyes as your fingers caressed his skin, wonderfully warm underneath you as additional warmth from your hair radiated all around the opening. The fire seemed so insignificant now, when you possessed all the light in the world, threaded within the locks of your hair.

And Hyunjin only watched, eyes starstruck over your transformation.

“Save what has been lost.

Bring back what once was mine…”

At last, you opened your eyes, meeting with the sole man in the forest. His awe-filed gaze beheld you, in all your celestial glory, and more warmth radiated from you, specifically from your cheeks. 

You nearly forgot to end the healing poem.

“What once was...mine.”

The glow lingered when you closed your mouth. Your fingers lingered along his cheek.

His eyes, too, lingered upon yours. Almost unable to stray. 

Even when his hesitant hand raised to your fingers, feeling the cut on his skin - now gone, courtesy of your witchcraft.

No. Not witchcraft. Magic.

“I…” he tried to say, but his words were paused, crippled under your fantastical abilities. “It...it is healed.”

You felt your hair’s light begin to dim. “I do not lie, Ponyboy.”

His gaze darted all over your face, one glance at your parted lips and felt another sense of warmth heating his face. “Hmm. I guess not.”

Something within you wished he would lean a little closer, share some of the heat which you were losing the longer you stayed silent. You dared not take the step, despite your entire mind begging you to stop being a coward. 

Come on, Ponyboy. Do not fear like I do.

Perhaps it was only wishful thinking. 

For the man clasped your fingers, and brought them down from his face, the hair curled around loosening. His hand, letting yours go, strayed to his side, where the damned frying pan lay discarded. 

Hyunjin did not feel much like cooking anymore. 

“We should sleep,” he said, leaning against the tree trunk. “There is still a day’s journey left for Corona.”

You only nodded, rounding up your locks and attempted to create a make-shift bed from the volume. He watched you work, shivering slightly from the icy night air, despite the fire still burning.

When finished, you dusted your dress, laying down upon the hair-bed, facing Hyunjin’s left, the side of his face darkened by the direction of the moonlight. He spread his leg before him, sighing out, and crossed his arms, closing his eyes. 

Even then, he heard your teeth chattering.

Of course, he could always ignore it. It was not like him to care for the wellbeing of others, especially those who managed to piss him off every time they opened their mouth.

He glanced at you.

There you were, knees raised to your chest, curled up in a little ball with your masses of hair, engulfing you almost completely. Even with your magical advantages you trembled under the midnight chill, cursing nature for being too, literally, cold. 

Hyunjin cursed too, but himself, when he took off his turquoise vest, sliding it off his arms, and stretched towards you. 

It was your turn to still under another’s presence, as the leather attire settled on you like a blanket, instantly warming you under the shade of the oak trees. You let out a soft hum at the heat, and the man widened his eyes at the reaction. He found it annoyingly endearing.

“Thank you, Ponyboy,” you murmured to him, a lazy gaze on him. 

He did not say anything in return. Only went back to his original position, fingers pinching his hair grip, sliding it out as his locks escaped from the tie, cascading his shoulders as he smoothed them down. He then sat down, leaning against the tree, spreading a leg before him.

A comfortable silence settled upon the both of you, save for the leaves rustling from the breeze and the sound of crickets scattered around the forest. You closed your eyes, fatigue creeping over you, but you held on to your conscious, a few unanswered questions in mind. 

“Hey, Ponyboy?”

You heard, rather than see, the man sigh.

“Hmm?”

Keeping an eye closed, you observed his lack of movement, a hand upon his raised knee. “Why did you agree to letting me come with you?”

A soft scoff emitted from him. “Because you would have knocked me out with that damned frying pan if I said no.”

“No I would not!” you argued, but when he shifted his eyes to you in disbelief, you found yourself doubting your own words. “Well, well...you would have defended yourself just fine!”

“Whatever you say,” he said, facing ahead once more. 

The quiet was blanketed upon the both of you once more, yet you still looked at him. Dear God, nature was truly unjust for making him so ethereal. 

“Is there something else you wish to ask me, witch?”

You pouted at the name. “Do not call me that.”

“And you can keep calling me Ponyboy?”

The mention of the endearment had you giggling once again. “And what about it,” you mused, smirking,”Ponyboy?”

You smiled harder when Hyunjin tutted. “You are truly...impossible!”

A laugh escaped you, you shifting in your bed of hair. You could not help biting your cheek, as you wished to say one more thing to your companion, the man who had closed his eyes, ready to sleep.

“I can feel you looking at me,” he said, making you blink away the slight daze you were in. 

You bit your lip before parting your mouth. “I…” you brought his vest closer to yourself. 

“I just wanted to say thank you.”

Hyunjin opened his eyes.

“For what?”

“You know…” you ran a hand over his turquoise vest. “This. The inn...letting me come with you in general.” He was about to open his mouth to object, but you stopped him. “No, shush! You did not have to.”

He rested his stare upon you, locking his hands over his knee. “You saved me from death, ____. It is the least I can do.”

“Well,” you murmured. “Thank you anyway. For putting up with me.” you let out a huff. “Drunk and sober.”

A small chuckle emitted from him, raking his locks back. “I am never letting you drink again.”

“I bet.” you could not help the slight burning of your cheeks. “I must have been such a bane to your existence this entire time. I would not have been surprised if you left me at that inn.”

There was a pause after, and you figured he was tired of talking so you closed your eyes, ready to lose yourself to temporary oblivion. 

Then you heard his whisper. 

“I would never do that, ____.”

You dared not look at him. God, you could feel him looking at you, but you did not dare, for you feared what would happen if you matched your stare. 

So you kept your eyes close, the image of a certain long-haired man lingering in your mind as you slept.

And the certain long-haired man you thought of, slumped against his tree, only watched you drift away to another world, wondering whether you truly were the bane of his existence.

The answer he received, as he closed his own eyes, scared him.

For no matter how drunk, how tenacious you might be, he would still not have abandoned you at the inn.

He could not have abandoned you at the inn. Anywhere, for that matter.

It was that rather strange thought, and his even stranger heart rate, which finally had him joining you in slumber.

THE TWO OF YOU TRAVELLED FOR ANOTHER TWO DAYS BEFORE YOU REACHED YOUR DESTINATION.

By that time you had fully recovered from your drunken state, and went through with the dire consequences that brought with it. Of course, Hyunjin made sure to mock you as your head hurt throughout the journey, and only ceased when you whipped out the frying pan, promising to hit him properly this time. 

You both were actually arguing over the last slice of cheese when you looked towards the path, and spotted the giant, cream-coloured turrets, shooting up in the sky, peeking out from the trees. You let out a scream then, making Hyunjin nearly drop the cheese, and you took the reins from the boy as Kkami galloped faster towards the kingdom. 

“Slow down, ____!”

But you did not listen to him, your hair about to fall from the horse had your companion not held onto the masses, and your blood began to thrum under your skin when the lining of the trees broke.

An excited scream lurched out of you.

A baby pink bridge stretched beyond your vision, guiding you to the entrance of the kingdom. It was plated in solid gold, and several people walked up and down, smiling politely at you as you stopped Kkami before the start. The entire castle was in full view, despite the length of the bridge, and you could barely contain the thrill which drummed in your veins.

“Hyunjin, do you see this?” 

He did not share your raging enthusiasm. “Just carry on riding, witch!”

You stuck your tongue out to him before you snapped the reins, Kkami starting off on the bridge. You heard the waves lap against the stone, the clear blue water twinkling in the sun, and the citizens watched you rush past in mild surprise, not expecting someone to be this excited for entering the capital.

But of course you were excited. Especially when you arrived at the place you’ve been dreaming to see on your birthday.

“____, you heathen, slow down or you’ll get us killed!” Hyunjin shouted over the rapid clicking of the horseshoes over the stone. 

You only obliged when you passed the entrance, guards nodding, and slowed Kkami’s gallop to a mild trotting around the streets. There was buzzing all around, thatched houses displaying colourful banners, depicting the fireworks which were to occur that evening, and many people seemed to have dressed up, enjoying each other’s company, children running around with kites and ribbons, playing and simply having fun.

It made you smile a little, seeing everyone in such harmony. You hoped you would be able to join in.

Hyunjin jumped off the horse, to your surprise, dusting himself off. “Off,” he ordered, hands out, and you complied, wrapping your arms around his neck as he brought you down, bare feet touching the cobblestone. Your hair tumbled down from the saddle, and a few people nearby watched in awe at your neverending locks. 

“Why are we getting off?” you asked, picking up as much of your hair as you could. 

Hyunjin grabbed onto the ends which you could not carry, one hand guiding Kkami along with him. “The fireworks are still hours away.” He began to walk, leading you deeper into the streets of Corona. “So I’m going to use this time to search for the whereabouts of someone.”

“Oh, is this the whole Jisung business?” your eyes darted everywhere, each flash of colour, of each depiction, drawing, painting of the fireworks. 

You saw the man visibly stiffen. “Yes,” he muttered, fingers tightening on the reins. “I know a few friends in the city who might know where he went.” 

“Show me the way, then!” you declared, returning each awe-filled smile one sent you. “If you have more friends like Mr. Chan and Seungmin then I want to meet them!”

Clicking his tongue, he said, “If you’re going to end up drunk with them I’d rather you didn’t.”

“You’re just jealous that your friends like me more than you,” you mused.

“You keep thinking that,” he only said dryly, though he feared that might be true. You had a habit of creating an unforgettable impression of yourself to others. 

You certainly left that impression on the poor man who walked oh so carefully beside you.

Another turn of a street and you were met with various shops, the scent of various savories and sugary desserts tempting your nose, and your eyes being bombarded with all the goods from around the country. You demanded Hyunjin to provide you with some pastries, but he only glared in rejection, moving on from the stalls. 

The man then stopped before a flower shop, dozens of different forms scattered around the opening. Stepping aside what nature has to offer, Hyunjin went inside, only to be met with more flowers.

“Felix?!” 

“Who is that?” you asked, but your question was answered when a small, blond haired man stepped out from the back door, holding a bouquet of roses in his little hands. He adorned a peach-coloured shirt and black trousers, leather shoes thudding as he walked inside the shop.

This man smiled brightly at seeing your companion. “Oh, afternoon, Hyunjin!” he greeted. “I’m surprised to see you here..”

“I was not going to come to Corona so early, as well, but something has come up.” He looked around, tying Kkami’s reins onto the wooden column, holding up the shop sign. “Say, has Jisung met you in the past two days?”

Felix furrowed his brows in thought, sliding the roses in an intricately decorated vase. “No, actually,” he admitted. “I haven’t seen him in about two months.”

“Damn it,” Hyunjin seethed, playing with a stray lock. “Is Jeongin here?”

“He’s outside, but he’ll be back any moment.” Felix then looked past you and your companion, and parted his mouth. “Ah, here we go!”

You turned around, and instantly softened at the beautiful boy which skipped into the flower shop, black curls bouncing along his step as he held bags, stained slightly with grease. “Felix, look!” He proclaimed, holding his possessions out and catching a glimpse of all the sugary goodness Hyunjin refused to buy you. “Lunch!”

The said-man rolled his eyes, dusting his hands. “You are crazy if you think I’m going to let you eat all of those pastries for lunch.”

“Oh, don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud!” Jeongin whined, propping the bags on the counter. He widened his grin at seeing the long-haired man. “Hyunjin!” 

“Hey, buddy,” you heard him say, while he brought out a hand to ruffle the boy’s hair. “Tell me you’re still as troublesome for Felix as before.”

“I could never let you down,” Jeongin drawled, earning a laugh from his elder.

He then turned to you, and his mischievous demeanour dissolved into amazement. “Oh my, miss, your hair!” His eyes skimmed over the locks, astonishment growing. “I’ve never seen anything like this before!”

“It can be a nightmare,” you confessed, dropping the masses of hair from your arms. “Carrying it, at least.”

Jeongin studied your phenomenon a little longer. “Miss, may I offer you assistance, then?”

You raised a curious brow. “And what would that be?”

“Well, if it can be bothersome,” he started, locking his hands behind his back, a little shy. “How about I braid it for you?”

“You…” your eyes widened, your fingers threading through your hair. “Can you do it?”

The young boy looked to Hyunjin, who very much doubted him. “I mean, you can go about your business, and until then I can take some trouble away from the lady.”

“Jeongin,” Felix warned. “Don’t go asking things like that!” He turned his eyes towards you, apologetic.  “I’m deeply sorry, my lady, but this boy is still learning to hold his tongue.”

“No, no, it’s alright, Mr. Felix,” you reassured him, facing Hyunjin as he, too, pondered over this offer. 

The long-haired man eyed the youngest a little warily. “I will be nearby, so I guess ____ can stay.” he then knitted his brows. “If I hear that you caused any inconvenience to her—”

“Oh, don’t you worry, Hyunjin, we’ll be fine!” Jeongin sent you a dazzling grin, bowing. “I will be on my best behaviour.”

Felix propped a little hand to his hip. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Hyunjin slid his eyes to you, parting his mouth. “You’ll be okay, right?”

You shook your head. “I’ll be fine!” Raising your hands, you turned the man around, pushing him out of the flower shop. “Go and find that Jisung man of yours and let me enjoy my birthday!”

“Alright, alright!” he looked over his shoulders. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Don’t miss me too much, Ponyboy!” you simpered, to which the man only rolled his eyes, leaving your sight as he turned to another corner.

You then turned to the two boys, smiling kindly. “In advance, I apologise if I annoy you with my rambling.”

Laughing, Felix gathered up a pot of orange tulips, turning towards the back door. “Ah, don’t be sorry, Miss ____, consider us good friends! I’ll be going in and out to check up on lunch but Jeongin will be here.”

“I won’t bore you, promise!” the younger exclaimed. “I have many good stories of Hyunjin!”

“Now that,” you get out as you laugh, “Is something I wish to hear.”

“Only for you, Miss ____,” Jeongin mused, gesturing towards a stool sat beside the counter. “You can sit here while I braid your hair. I don’t want you getting tired.”

You thanked him, walking over and settling yourself upon the cushioned seat. “If you can tie up all this mess, then I owe you a huge favour.”

The boy stepped towards your back, assessing how he was going to start this difficult process. Making an approving noise, he then grabbed the bags he first held when he came inside, bringing out a sugared doughnut and holding it out. “Snack?”

Seeing the treat had you yelling in joy. “Of course!” you took the doughnut from him, immediately digging in. “Thank you, Mr. Jeongin!”

“Please, Miss ____, just call me Jeongin,” he offered, separating your locks into three sections, splitting them downwards and creating distance between them on the floor. “I feel much too old when you call me that.”

“As long as you call me only ____,” you said as you ate, watching the busy street. You then felt a faint tightness on your scalp, and sensed the boy’s fingers commencing their task.

As Jeongin worked on braiding your hair, you slowly depleted his sweets, striking up conversations of the Kingdom, the shop and the people who dwelled here. You learned a great deal from his words, describing you the constant merriment within the walls throughout the year, yet today was the most important day for Corona - the fireworks celebrating the ascension of the King and Queen who lived in the castle. 

The young boy also explained his relation to your grumpy companion, explaining that their acquaintance originated from childhood, when Hyunjin would fight off any bullies which tried to pick on him, yet would be the first to tease him whenever he had the chance. They, along with Felix and others, all grew up together, but Hyunjin had been the first to adventure out of Corona along with Jisung, who, too, was a childhood friend.

It was welcoming, hearing the humble beginnings of Hwang Hyunjin. A true shame he turned out to be a grouchy and annoying bastard. 

You cocked your head, reassessing that statement. Well, he was not a bastard. That was a much too harsh a word to describe him. In truth, you wished you still harboured the feelings you first inhibited when you met him. 

In truth, you found yourself warming up to him. 

I would never do that, ____.

That night, beside the moonlit pond, when he declared in a quiet murmur that he would never abandon you, despite your irritable demeanour. It was terrifying, because it was all you could think about. Although it had not even been a week since you healed him in the woods, here you were, pondering over him as if you had been all your life. 

This only added to your fear. 

“Isn’t that so, ____?”

You perked up at Jeongin’s question, looking over your shoulder to see him already so far ahead in his task. The plait, each third huge and reducing the original length of your hair. You observed with further fascination that the boy had created another network of braiding, woven into the bigger thirds, and you let out a sigh of wonder, thankful for your miracle for the first time. “I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t listen.”

“Oh, I was just saying how Hyunjin should have stayed in the Kingdom, but he left to do whatever he did with Jisung.”

You brought your feet upon the railings of your stool. “Jeongin, what does Hyunjin actually do?” You asked, curiosity fresh on your tongue. 

“Apart from being a pain in the rear?” A laugh escaped you, and Jeongin continued braiding, nearly finished. “Well, all I know is that he’s involved in a lot of trading circles. Every week I used to see him bringing something new from foreign lands.”

“So a true adventurer, then?” 

Jeongin propped a third into another. “In a sense.”

After a half-hour Felix joined the two of you, mitten-covered hands holding a tray of hot bread as he set it on the countertop. He admired his friend’s artistry as well, taking off the gloves and watching for a little while as Jeongin was on the last parts of your hair. 

He then spoke. “I have an idea.”

The younger kept working as he said, “Go on.”

Stepping past you so he faced you, Felix propped a finger over his chin. “Hmm...yes…”

You gave him a confused look. “What do you mean, ‘yes’?”

But he hurried out of the shop, grabbing different variations of small flowers, all ranging from soft, pastelled colours, and walked over to you again.

“May I?” He asked, and you nodded, understanding what he was about to do. 

As you thought, the man picked out a blue forget-me-not, and planted it within the folds of your hair.

“Hmm,” he only got out, continuing this as he scattered more flowers in your locks, adding colour as he then moved past you, going behind as the flowers now littered the back of your head, lining against the plaits. 

“Felix, this will take you forever!” You said, worried that you may waste their time.

“No it won’t, Miss ____,” he waved off your concern, carrying on the task as if it would not take him a whole day to complete. “We want your hair looking immaculate for tonight. Especially if it’s your birthday today!”

You smiled at the kindness, initiating further conversation with Hyunjin’s friends as they kept you entertained throughout the afternoon. It was the first time meeting them, and already you wished to see them often. Secretly, you envied your companion for having such sincere friends.

You, on the other hand, were never given the chance to create such special bonds.

It was another hour before you heard a satisfied noise escape the youngest, and you turned, catching a victorious grin on his face. 

“It’s done, ____!”

On cue, you looked down, and gasped.

The finished braid was a masterpiece: all the networks of plaits were worked intricately into the original big three, and at the end were tied by a band of daisies, knotted so tightly there was hardly room for the locks to be set free. Felix tucked in the last of the flowers, and this added feature enhanced your hair even more, like a little garden of your own growing in your locks. The whole result had you returning their smiles. 

“Oh my God, Felix, Jeongin!” you started, swivelling on your stool, braid following. “It's exquisite!”

The two mocked a bow at you, receiving your applause with grace. “It was our pleasure, ____,” the elder said, a toothy grin on display. “I know I like having flowers in my hair.”

“Now you’ll be the talk of the town,” Jeongin drawled, which had you hesitantly laughing. The younger’s eyes then perked up past you. “Oh, look, just in time!”

You turned in your seat.

Stilled at seeing Hwang Hyunjin catching sight of you. Your new hairstyle.

His eyes lit up at the change. 

He saw the huge plait, and the flowers which littered in your hair, and thought he saw paradise inhabiting earth. He then saw your face accompanying this hair, and knew paradise will be staying for a while. Taking in the decoration, the intricate consideration of detail within your locks, had you elevated in every single way. 

By God, he found you so beautiful.

Jeongin raised a brow over Hyunjin’s dumbfounded reaction. “Are you not going to say anything?”

But the man was silent, hands on his satchel tightening. He then saw an empty expanse in your hair, just above your ear, and had a little idea.

Spotting his favourite flower, he picked it up from the stash outside the shop, and slowly walked towards you, your eyes never leaving his.

When he stopped before you, he raised the white rose, sliding the small stem within your locks. It found home above your ear, and the man nearly swooned at how perfectly it suited you.

He curled his lips at the sight of you. “You look...ethereal.”

You cursed at the hairs at the back of your neck, which stood erect at the soft praise. “Thank you, Ponyboy.”

Jeongin let out a snort, in result receiving a glare from Felix. “Ponyboy?”

Hyunjin’s smile faltered. “Do not even ask,” he only snapped, and returned his focus to you. “Let’s go.”

You stood up from your stool. “Where are we going?”

He began to walk out of the shop. “Our next stop,” he said, smiling at your scowl over his vague answer.

As he glanced at his friends, he saluted, a gesture of friendly mockery. “Thank you, you two.”

“Anytime, Hyunjin,” Felix said, and he took your hand, pressing a chaste kiss upon your skin. “And thank you for letting us decorate your hair.”

“No, please,” you countered, “Thank you for such an extraordinary present. I won’t forget the gesture.”

“Do see us again, ____!” Jeongin exclaimed, which, after you chuckled, you promised you would.

After waving the two goodbye, you followed Hyunjin out of the flower shop, a confident stride in your step as your flower-kissed braid trailed after you. 

The streets were fuller, the crowds more loud and excited as you two squeezed through people, with Kkami trotting behind on Hyunjin’s leash. The silly horse tried to pluck a few flowers from your braid but you made sure your hair stayed intact, having no intention of it being ruined in any circumstances. 

“Hyunjin, where are you taking me?” You demanded, trudging through the streets. Your feet, still bare, began to hurt. “If we don’t stop soon I’ll collapse!” 

He spared a glance at your step, wincing as a pained groan escaped you. “It’s not far,” he said, looking ahead once more.

“Ponyboy, can’t you carry me?” you whined, and when he turned back to see you, you braced yourself for a verbal lashing with the frown he adorned. 

Instead, you were hit with something quite different. 

After a hard, ragged sigh, he paused his walking, widening his arms from behind. “You better not be heavy,” he warned.

You watched him hunchbacked, dumbfounded at his acceptance. Since when was he complacent on giving you comfort?

Your cheeks then burned when you were reminded of that night again. Of the turquoise vest, which, although was hugging his lean figure now, was hugging you. 

“Are you going to just keep staring at me,” Hyunjin jeered, bringing you back to reality, “Or are you actually going to jump on?”

“Oh!” you got out, and stepped towards him.

You slid your arms around his shoulders, locking your hands upon his chest. You then felt his hands wrap around your thighs, and a small breath went free from your throat as he hitched you upwards, grip tightening on you. 

“You are very lucky to have me, witch,” the man gritted out. 

He then yelped as you pinched his shoulder. “You are very lucky to have me, Ponyboy,” you only mused, and raised your fist in the air, despite the growing nerves. “Come on now, let’s get going!”

Hyunjin obliged you, starting up a heavy, yet steady pace towards their destination. Each time he took a step, it radiated off you, and you hoped to all the heavens above that your body would not give up on you. Every time the man hitched you higher, though, had the possibility becoming much less likely.

You had not realised just how much his hands on your thighs affected your very senses. 

A few specifics from the crowd watched the two of you in adoration, murmuring how sweet it was for your lover to hold you when you were tired. When Hyunjin heard these whispers he nearly dumped you on the cobblestone, but you did not miss the scarlet blush which developed on his face. The rather charming image had you smiling as you rested your cheek against his neck. 

The man kept his hands secure, never letting you go till you arrived at wherever he wished to take you. You only knew you arrived when his grip on you loosened, straightening his back so you had no choice but to feel the street beneath you. So bizarre that you missed his touch — his warm, welcoming fingers.

You followed to where he looked, and saw the front of the shop littered with shoes. Different types of footwear, all neatly stacked on wooden racks, their sizes carved into the wood. You did not have the time to carefully admire each design before Hyunjin tied Kkami to another column, feeding him an apple before taking your hand and leading you inside the store.

The minute you entered you were welcomed with a homely extravagance, more and more shoes being displayed all around you, different colours and patterns luring you into getting all the pairs. It was a little odd, that your companion wished to show you this place so eagerly, but when he rang a bell atop the counter, and another man with fire-kissed hair entered from another door, furiously sewing on the back of a child’s shoe, you assumed that he must be acquainted.

“Minho!” Hyunjin exclaimed, following the said-man to where he paused his stride, setting the shoe down and breaking the thread, finished. 

“And what do you want?” was the heartfelt response, as the seller put the object under the counter. Hyunjin mockingly pouted, to which his friend scoffed. “Oh, you’re not getting any free clothes this time! Pay or go away!”

You let out a small chuckle at his tagline, and the man’s eyes darted to you, brow raised. “And who is this lady?” he inquired, fingers drumming on the countertop. “Who is much too beautiful to be accompanying this swindler?”

“Hey!” the man beside you objected, but you could not help the laughter which spluttered from your lips. 

“My name is ____,” you said, locking your hands behind your back. You then roamed your eyes about the room, turning to him once again, awed. “Did you make all these yourself?”

“Why, of course!” Minho opened up the countertop, joining you as he admired his work. “I take pride in my work, and am glad you appreciate them.” He then glanced at Hyunjin, squinting his eyes. “It’s honest money, after all.”

Confused, you looked to your companion but he only rolled his eyes, waving off the comments. “Save the sarcasm for later, buddy,” he drawled, and propped a hand upon his friend’s shoulder. “Now show me your best shoes for women.”

You widened your eyes. “Hyunjin?”

Minho curved his lips. “Oh, trying to delve into a new world, now?” 

“Shut up,” was his answer, as the long-haired man strolled further into the shop, right where all the elegant, more colourful shoes were inhabited. “Ah, here we go.”

You followed him hurriedly, not quite understanding. “Hyunjin, what are you doing?”

He only trailed a finger across the racks, humming to a few shoes which caught his eye. “Getting you a present.”

This only added to your shock. “What?” You breathed out, but he was too busy picking out a pair of boots, dark with silver lining around the edges. “Hyunjin!”

“How do you feel about these?” He held them out to you, who still did not comprehend why he was giving you a birthday present. 

Well, it was your birthday. So why did you expect him to give you nothing at all?

“____!”

You blinked. “What?”

He holds the black boots. “What are your thoughts?” 

Before you could answer, Minho clicked his tongue, walking to where you both stood. “Hyunjin, do you not know anything of styling?”

“What do you mean by that?” The long-haired man furrowed his brows. 

“Whatever you think I did.” The shoe-seller turned to you, mock pity in his gaze. “My lady, let me help you out. This buffoon does not know the art of attire.”

“Ugh!” Your companion grumbled, and you could not help but melt a little at his pouted irritation.

Minho watched his friend cross his arms, looking away in annoyance. “Let him sulk,” he said, and smiled at you. “Until then, I’ll find you something worth your beauty.”

You return his enthusiasm, letting him whisk you further into the women’s section, all the shoes in fashion at the time displayed before you, begging to be worn by you. Minho’s designing eye had to be commended — the man knew how to create.

“Let me see what you’re wearing,” the orange-haired man ordered, and you gave him a little twirl of your violet dress, your flower-littered braid following. 

“The flowers are adorable, might I add,” he said, and you thanked him excitedly, watching him choose more softer colours to pick your perfect pair of shoes from. 

At last, his hands settled upon soft, ballerina-like shoes, lilac in colour and ribbons flaring out from the back. With a satisfied hum he brought out the pair, holding them out to you. “What do you think?”

You brought out your hands, holding the shoes, and felt your smile grow. “They’re so pretty,” you gushed, feeling the silky ribbon between your fingers. “May I try them on?”

“Go right ahead, my lady.” He gestured to a leather seat, and you sat yourself down, just as Hyunjin walked up to Minho, scowl still there. “Are you done moping around now?”

“Quiet, you,” your companion snapped, but his agitation faded when he saw you dust away at your feet, and slide them inside the shoes. Your other foot pursued the first, and you stood the ribbons scattered to the floor.

“You’re supposed to tie them,” Minho explained, about to show you when a hand stopped him. 

He was met with Hyunjin’s determined features. “I’ll do it.”

You watched as the long-haired boy stopped before you, hands landing on your shoulders as he pushed you back on the seat. He then knelt before you, taking the attached ribbon in his hands. “May I?”

Your heart skipped happily a little beat. “Of course.”

Raising your leg slightly, you offered him easier access as he began looping the two strips of ribbon, one overlapping the toner and continuing this cycle till the material wrapped all the way up to your shin. You slid your dress higher, and only stopped when Hyunjin tied a little bow at the top of your entangled ribbon. He then did the same to your other leg, effortlessly wrapping the strips all around your leg till it hit the shin once more. After another bow, his fingers lingered on your leg, barely skimming over your ribbon-adorned skin.

He looked up at you, and an unrecognisable haze lifted in his eyes. “Happy birthday, ____.”

You certainly could recognise the butterflies in your stomach, fluttering much too uncontrollably. “Thank you, Hyunjin.”

Perhaps you both could have relished in this position forever were someone’s voice not dragged you both down to reality. 

“Are you both going to keep eye-rutting each other or am I going to get my fare?”

You immediately stood up, feeling yourself heat up over the comment. Hyunjin, too, snarled at his amused friend, buttoning and unbuttoning the top of his vest. “I’ve got it, you greedy prick.”

“Good,” Minho only said, smirking at the two of you as he retreated to his counter, where all his gold was stored. You and Hyunjin followed him there, the slight distance having too much weight for it to be comfortable.

Your companion brought out a little bag, jingling as he set it upon the countertop. “This alright?”

Taking the bag, his friend weighed it with his hand, and nodded in satisfaction. “Better than that.”

“Thank you so much for this, Minho,” you began, putting a hand to your chest in respect. “I will cherish these shoes.”

“You better, my lady,” he teased, but returned your gesture. 

You turned to leave with Hyunjin, beginning to head out when he stopped. “Oh, I nearly forgot!” 

He rushed back to the seller, who sighed. “You just can’t leave me alone, can you?”

His question was ignored, and was instead presented with another. “Minho, have you seen Jisung recently?”

This had the fire-kissed man cocking his head. “I did,” he answered, shocking Hyunjin. “Yesterday, actually.”

“By God—” The long-haired man could barely contain himself. He whirled to you, pointing to the entrance. “You go outside and untie Kkami. I’ll be right out.”

“Hyunjin,” you tried to object, but the look on his face, the silent pleading, had you giving in, nodding grimly as you exited the shop, waving to the owner.

Kkami welcomed you with a hearty neigh, and you stroked his mane, slowly untying his reins. “Why does he not tell me things?”

Your answer was another noise from the horse, and you patted the creature, leading it out on the streets. The sun was descending, light still clear yet the first glimpses of oranges had arrived. The fireworks were mere hours away.

The man had not come out after a while, you looking back every now and then, catching concern in his dazzling features. The people’s excitement did little to have you join in, and you began to worry that something may be wrong. 

You were about to go inside the shoe shop once more when you caught sight of Hyunjin exiting, hands fisted at his sides, expression grim. 

Stopping before you, you worked up the courage to ask first. “What’s going on?”

Surprised, you noticed he could not even look at you. His eyes drifted away, a tick in his jaw, teeth grazing over another. Oh, the man was enraged. 

When let in a deep breath, he faced you, catching guilt in his slender eyes. “I cannot be with you when the fireworks occur.”

Silence.

Despite the merriment around the two of you, the pure joy radiating in the kingdom, you felt your heart stop. “What?”

The man tightened his little ponytail, locks still caressing his neck as he tried to avert your gaze. “I have to be elsewhere when nightfalls, but I can show you where you can see them best, so you’ll be okay-”

“Hyunjin-”

He continued, closing his eyes. “I don’t want you missing the fireworks, so let me show you the best spot before I have to leave.”

You could not believe your ears. “Hyunjin, I-”

“And I know how important they are to you, so I suggest we start going right now, so I can be on my way-”

He would have gone forever, rambling excuses if you had not looked down, at his clenching, unclenching hands. If you had not reached your own hands out, clasping them with his. The man ceased his digression at the sudden contact, and finally whipped his head to you. His frantic eyes met yours, and something within you cracked. 

You did not let go as you breathed out, “What’s the matter, Ponyboy?”

No irritation responded to you from the nickname. Only his commencing of his thumbs, stroking the back of your hands. “I have learned of Jisung’s location.”

Parting your mouth in surprise, you asked, “Where is he, then?”

“I do not know where he is now, but I know where he will go tonight.” his gaze scrutinised you. “And do not think I will tell you of that place.”

“What?” Bewildered, you took a step closer, and noticed the lack of distance between the two of you. At the time, you took no note of it. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“Because for the past few days I’ve been with you, the one thing I’ve learned about you is that you’re incredibly foolish.” You scoffed at this strange declaration, but he carried on. “I know that if you learned where I was going you’re going to follow, especially if I tell you not to go.”

You were about to object, but you shut your mouth, glancing sheepishly back at him. “Well, maybe you should let me come with you!”

“Damn it, ____, I probably would have any other time.” He let out a harsh sigh. “It is much too dangerous tonight.”

“Damn you, Hyunjin, what is it that’s so troubling that you even can’t tell me?” you demanded, your grip on his hands tightening. “What did this Jisung do to you?”

The mere mention of his name had the man hissing. “The bastard crossed me,” he guttered, and you felt his rage pour off of him. “And I’m not going to let him get away with it.”

You watched him helplessly, clinging onto his hands. “Hyunjin, please,” you pleaded. “Please, let me help you.”

As you watched his stare peer into you, you witnessed the chaos behind his eyes, a civil war raging within him whether to trust you or not. You prayed to the heavens that this man, this reckless, insufferable, heartwarming man, would let you in.

He opened his mouth. 

“I’m sorry, ____.”

Letting go of your hands, he took the reins of his horse. “It’s too dangerous.” he then murmured to himself, and although it was quiet, you heard the words well enough.

“God forbid if I let you get hurt.”

He then stepped passed you, already walking ahead, leaving you to catch up to his agitated stride. 

Of course you were angry. How could you not be? you asked yourself as you followed him, refusing to stroll beside him. You two have been travelling together for nearly a week, yet he still does not trust you enough to tell you of his troubles. Disappointment washed over you more, for ever thinking he would give you a chance. 

You knew that if you were in his position, you would tell him everything.

After a few twists and turns of the street, you were met with a network of ports, a whole civilisation mingling upon wooden stilts. Boats of all shoes and sizes docked along the wooden lines, and you saw with mild surprise that barrels of fireworks were filled to brim on each deck. 

“Around the evening, this place will clear away, and all the little boats will enter, offering places to see the fireworks.” Hyunjin glanced at you, but you refused to meet his eyes. “Find yourself a boat, and have him row you beyond the kingdom.”

Nodding, you began to descend on the steps, until your wrist was caught by his hand. “____.”

Still, you looked ahead.“What?”

“I’m sorry.” A pause. “You know I’d let you come if circumstances were different.”

Silence was his answer, to his immense dismay. He let go of your hand, and instead had you gripping your horse’s reins. “Take care of Kkami while I’m gone.”

Holding on, you looked back, and made sure he drank in the solemnity of your gaze. “Don’t you dare die on me.”

A little laugh huffed out of him; it was all he could offer, when he turned, and strode into the crowds of Corona. 

God. It physically hurt seeing him leave.

Kkami neighed softly. “I know,” you only said, already wishing dusk would arrive. 

At least the fireworks were still happening. Something you’ve been wanting to see for years is right before you now.

So with that small consolation, you sat down on the stone steps, watching the port’s business as you stretched your feet, now adorned in a Hyunjin’s birthday present, and waited for time to pass. Sometimes, when your mind drifted to that certain man, you would run a shaking finger over the white rose embedded in your hair. 

This was harder than you thought.

The sun began to descend some more, the blue sky morphing into more oranges, reds and pinks. The atmosphere was hushed now, chatter still here and there, but almost awaiting for something. The larger ships had set sail long before, and, just as Hyunjin had said, smaller boats populated the docks, devoid of the fireworks. 

Curiosity peaking at your mind, you heaved up to your feet, dusting the back of your dress, and, tugging Kkami, decided to go upon the wooden wharf, taking the longer route without the stairs. 

The horse, seeing the water, began to stomp its hooves, but you reassured him, stroking its long face as you led him along the dock, careful of the sailors. 

You reached near the end of the dock, and noticed a small boat anchored at the very edge, fireworks stored all around it. There was a small man settled inside the boat, tying up stray objects with rope, whistling sweetly away. You tried to take a step forward, but Kkami neighed loudly, frightened to get closer to the bed of water. 

“Kkami!” you seethed, trying to calm the creature down, but it only made more noise, stirring the people around you. Sending them apologetic looks, you took out a carrot, seducing the animal with it until it settled, munching on the vegetable.

“Careful with that fine horse of yours, Miss!” 

Startled, you turned around, and saw the same man you were looking at now staring back at you. He had a friendly, curious smile upon his face. His dark locks were swiped back with a dirtied cloth, tying at the back of his neck. His loose shirt followed the sea breeze, and as you took a step closer, his hands came into view, roughened with labour. 

Catching your expression, he chuckled to himself, a sweet little sound despite his appearance. “You should know horses don’t like the water much,” he explained, continuing with his work. 

“Ah, sorry,” you said, slightly embarrassed. “It’s my first time taking care of a horse. It’s my friend’s, you see.” You could not help the irritation slip.

The sailor sure sensed it. “Oh, no,” he mused, a sympathetic smile on his lips. “Has this friend let you down in any way?”

Careful to tie Kkami along the railings, you walked towards him, fisting your hands. “I was going to watch the fireworks with him,” you confided. “But he just abandoned me! To go heaven knows where!”

The man scoffed, tying the fireworks. “A man, I presume?” you nodded, and he sighed, setting the bunch in his boat. “Just tell me the name, my lady, and I’ll take care of him for you.”

You huffed out a laugh at his offer, waving it off. “Oh, it’s alright. I just wish I knew where he was.”

“I’m sure he’ll come back,” the man reassured you. “As long as he has not gone anywhere near the castle walls.”

You paused as the words left his mouth. “Why?”

He turned to you, leaning back in his boat. “A lot of suspicious dealings happen there, my lady. Almost every thief in Corona sells their faux possessions along the abandoned walls of the palace. Especially today, with everyone distracted by the fireworks.”

The moment you heard this information, you felt your interest spike to the clouds. “Oh?” you sat yourself upon the docks. 

“My lady, please.” He gestures to a free seat upon his boat. “I cannot have you sitting on this dirty wood.”

He held out a hand, and you took it, taking a mindful step onto the boat, and, making sure you weren’t going to fall into the waters, stepped inside, hull shaking as you settled down before the man. He let go, and put that hand on his chest. “I’m Changbin, by the way,” he introduced. “I need to prepare for the fireworks but I’m only just behind.” He then regarded your hair, wonderment in his gaze. “How long is your hair?”

“The name’s ____, and longer than you think,” you replied, bringing the massive braid in front of you, stroking the flowers. “You said there were thieves in the Kingdom?”

Changbin looked at you incredulously. “____, there are crooks everywhere around here.” his incredulity then turned a little timid. “I must confess, I was one myself.” he then sat up. “Not anymore, though! I swore never to degrade myself like that ever again.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” you consoled him. “I assume it would have been entertaining.”

“I guess so.” He relaxed once more, watching the lazy waves lap over each other. “Though I had never done anything too fantastical.” He pondered some more. “Actually, there was one adventure I partook in. Hellish, but incredibly delightful.”

The sailor then exhaled deeply. “Maybe that’s because I was on a job with Hyunjin.”

You were about to ask more when you stilled.

Hyunjin.

“Did…” you knitted your brows, not sure you heard him properly. “Did you say Hyunjin?” You leaned in, now fully focused. “You know him?”

Changbin stared at you for a few seconds before he burst into laughter. “Who doesn’t know of Hwang Hyunjin?

“The most famous thief of the Kingdom.”

Your mouth dropped. 

“Hyunjin? A thief?”

“Why, the greatest one out there!” He chuckled some more. “I was very lucky to go on an exploit with him, but he usually stole treasure alone.”

He then corrected himself. “No, in fact, there was someone else he always committed his plundering with. Damn it, I can’t remember the name…”

Your assistance was barely a whisper. “Jisung?”

“Ah, yes!” he exclaimed. “Those two were joined at the hip. Though, mind you, ____, I spied the man wandering around the streets alone.”

“You did?” 

A nod was your answer. “He had this big bag with him, and from my previous adventures with them I knew it was Hyunjin’s.” Changbin drummed a finger upon his chin, lower lip sliding over the top. “Something suspicious is amiss.”

With the way your eyes widened, everything coming to you in an instant, you knew. 

Something horrific will go down. 

Jisung’s apparent betrayal, from the conversation at the tavern. Hyunjin saying it was too dangerous to disclose wherever he was going to go. Changbin revealing a huge trade off occurring around the castle walls, including the big thieves of Corona. 

It all made sense. 

You suddenly shot up, yelping as you nearly fell off the boat. “Careful!” the man warned, but acting with caution was the least of your concerns when you now knew where that long-haired bastard was.

“Changbin, I have to go to the palace walls,” you said, hopping quickly off the shaking boat. 

The sailor, steadying it, stepped onto the docks, too, puzzled over your sudden change. “Good God, why do you want to go tonight?”

He then looked into your eyes. Saw the desperation, the realisation that hit you not moments before.

“Oh dear God!”

Walking to you, he planted a hand upon his forehead.”Hwang Hyunjin’s the friend?” 

“Changbin,” you began, looking back on the streets. “He’s in deep trouble. He’s gone near the castle walls to confront Jisung and I’m so scared something’s going to happen.”

Looking ahead, the sailor bit the inside of his cheek, weighing in his options. He glanced at his boat, and the fireworks, needing to be transported near the palace. “We need to be quick, _____.” 

Bringing out a dagger, glinting in the new moonlight, he asked, “Do you have a weapon with you?”

You searched through the bags strapped upon Kkami, and whipped out your frying pan. “Got it.”

Changbin raised his brows, but decided against commenting on your choice. “Keep the horse here, then. We need to be as quiet as possible when we arrive at the wall.”

He then stepped past you, leading you up the steps and back into the crowd, making sure you’re close behind. The two of you made little noise as you left the populated streets, diving into private neighbourhoods, avoiding questionable groups who stared at you, and only averted their gaze when Changbin flashed his dagger in the moonlight.

As the palace came closer in view, you felt your nerves return. Not even for yourself, you realised, as you turned another corner, walking silently along the muddied footpaths. More for the long-haired thief who may or not be in extreme danger. 

You prayed to the heavens he was okay. Because if something happened to him, you really did not know what you would do. Did not even want to comprehend the turnout of events if things turned sour.

“____.” 

You perked up at the mention, realising that you had reached the start of the palace barricade. The walls towered over the two of you, fencing you from the inside of the royal lands. Changbin looked at your right, and sure enough, at the far end, from the houses clustered together in a close, a group of men were gathered. The sailor beside you crept closer, back against the house walls, and you journeyed nearer, the former quickly switching to another residence, taking you with him. Beyond the building, you both studied the group closer. Before you, with his back to you, was a slender figured man, his black longcoat blowing in the night breeze. Although you could not see his face, you heard his uncontrollable cackling, taking a step closer to the group, holding onto a certain fugitive.

You nearly let out a scream. There he was, your esteemed Ponyboy, struggling to free from the thieves’ hold as he raged against the man before you. His semi-ponytail was left down, stray locks tumbling over his face, and his boots dug into the cobblestone.

“Look at you,” this man cooed, leaning into your companion. “All angry and ready to slit my throat.” 

“You took what was mine!” Hyunjin roared. He was met with another round of heartless laughter, and you realised that this man was no doubt the notorious Jisung. 

“We need a distraction,” Changbin said, looking around the dimmed area. “Otherwise…”

He did not need to say more. 

“I took what was needed to send a signal,” Jisung clarified, studying something in his hands. However, you could not see. “That I have no desire to share my treasures with you.”

“You bastard!” the captive growled, but was shoved down by Jisung’s men once more. “I did all the work! I put my life on the line and you know that!”

“A shame that life wasn’t taken,” was his cool answer. “Now I’m going to have to take it myself.”

You and Changbin exchanged fearful glances. You needed to act. Now.

Just as the sailor was about to step into the scene, loud music began to play.

Sounding from nearby, it not only stopped you, but the thieves in front of you. It was a sweet harmonising with a flute and a fiddle, and, puzzled, you saw the same expression on Hyunjin’s capturers. 

Then, you heard the voice which led the music.

“Who has the right mind to be singing in a neighbourhood like this?” Changbin whispered furiously, but you only answered his question with a knowing smile.

It was the same, mellow call which you drank to at the tavern. And when another voice joined in, you nearly laughed, already remembering the fond memories.

Mr. Chan and Seungmin arrived just in time.

Jisung turned his head to the direction of the music, and you saw the side of his face, doe eyes marred in irritation, thin lips pursed. “Who the fuck is belting out a song at this hour?” He looked to the four men, pointing to two. “You both! Go check the drunkards and shut them up.”

Obeying the command, the rest still kept an iron grip on Hyunjin, who, you could tell with a broken heart, was losing his strength. The fury, however, was still there, daggering his former partner in crime. 

“Now, tell me, Hyunjin,” Jisung mused, wrenching the man’s face forward with a hand, clasping his cheeks. “How did you manage to heal yourself so quickly?” His gaze dipped, to the dried blood stains on his turquoise vest. “I was sure you’d die off from the stab wound.”

“Well, you were wrong, weren’t you?”

Jisung, scoffing, dug his nails in his cheeks, causing Hyunjin to release a pained exhale. “I can see that, you little prick. Now I know it was deep enough to take weeks to heal.”

He leaned in, tilting his head in curiosity. “How did you manage to fix yourself up like that? Where did you find such a miracle?”

Your companion was about to snarl out a retort when his eyes darted beyond Jisung, into the dark. He caught the sight of a white rose.

His eyes, then, caught sight of you. 

Of you, hiding in the shade.

His mouth stayed parted. 

You pressed a finger to your lips, taking a careful step out of the dark.

“Oi! Hyunjin!” Jisung forced him to look at him again, anger simmering. “What was the miracle?!”

Your long-haired thief watched his once best friend, a still peace harbouring his face. With one last glance towards you, he smirked, sliding his gaze back.

“It was no miracle, Jisung,” he rasped out.

“It was witchcraft.” 

Just then, when you were about to swing your frying pan down on Hyunjin’s nemesis, a deafening sound erupted from the earth.

Blinding lights shot into the sky. Exploded into millions more, blazing into different directions. More coloured brilliance followed, illuminating the night.

You felt your soul at a standstill.

“The fireworks!”

Hyunjin, watching everyone distracted, took the golden opportunity and raised his fists to the men’s chins, causing them to yelp in pain. They released his hold on him, and the man wrenched free, already on one of Jisung’s lackey’s. 

The leader took note of the commotion, widening his eyes. “For God’s sake, it’s two against one!”

Soon, it was two against two as Changbin raised his knife, charging towards the other man. He landed a damaging hit on his shoulder, and the chase began in taking them down. 

His back still to you, you raised the pan, watching him about to charge towards Hyunjin.

You were ready to swing it on his head when the second round of fireworks started.

Looking back, completely off guard, this time they were more victorious, like beacons bursting in the cloudless sky. It was a shame the castle blocked the main view of their ascent, only seeing wisps of the blaze.

However, remembering you have a man to knock out, you turned to see the very nemesis.

Jisung, although not very large in build, had a calculating, cunning face which chilled you to the bone. Even your arms felt numb holding the pan, when his stare penetrated through your every layer. 

“Oh my,” he murmured, taking a slow step towards you. Reflexively, you took one back, weapon still out. “And who might you be?”

“Hyunjin’s miracle,” you spat, and you dared to take a full swing of the pan.

To your absolute horror, Jisung instantly dodged, ducking and then grabbing the handle from you. He waved it in the air, grinning like a demon in your scary stories. 

“Look at you,” he purred, continuing his tempered pace towards you. Fear curled in your stomach, hands slack at your sides, feet backing away. “Trying to fight me with a kitchen utensil.”

He chuckled darkly. “It’s almost adorable.”

You did not realise how long you were retreating for till your back hit the murky, palace walls. When you caught the predatory gleam in Jisung’s eyes, your breathing nearly ceased to work. 

“You really thought you’d save your little thief,” he crowed, daring another step, creeping closer, too close for your liking. He threw the pan behind him, skidding along the cobblestone. “With what? A sailor and a frying pan?”

When he was only a mere few inches from you, he regarded your braided hair, the flowers which littered among each strand. You froze up completely when his fingers reached out, tucking in a stray curl behind the beloved rose. 

“Or perhaps it was your infinite locks that healed him.”

You could not suppress the shiver that escaped you, and he, noticing, snickered, planting the hand beside your head. “Where is your salvaged thief now?” he whispered. 

The fireworks erupted behind you still, and you closed your eyes, not able to take in what was to happen next. Hyunjin was right. You should never have come here. 

But you would have done it again without hesitation. Ponyboy was in trouble, and hopefully he took this opportunity and ran away from this scene. 

You would fight a thousand Jisungs to save him, over and over again. 

Jisung was about to take the next step, do something unnamable.

Till you heard the loudest PANG!

Instantly, you opened your eyes, and found the wicked man being thrown to the side, thudding on the dirty cobblestone. From the sound of the pang! You knew that this man was unconscious. He ceased to even move.

You whipped your head to whoever knocked Jisung out straight.

And let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in.

Hwang Hyunjin stood before you, heaving as he held up your frying pan. His eyes, dilated, were rooted to you, and his mouth was parted, mist escaping his lips and joining the cool night air.

Silence fell upon the close, with Changbin finished dealing with the last of men, and the two of you just stared and stared at each other till you let out a ragged sigh.

“You can never insult my frying pan again.”

You waited for him to laugh, or even scoff at your ridiculous statement after experiencing a life-threatening situation.

The man did not even smile.

Only dumped the pan upon the ground before he was on you in seconds.

His hand clasped onto your wrist, and pulled you towards him. You stumbled into his chest, and when he wrapped his arms around you, you found yourself being nearly crushed with his hug.

He nestled his head into your neck, his locks falling to your shoulder, free of the ribbon which tied them. “This is why,” he muttered upon your skin, “I did not want you following me.”

You rested your cheek against his chest, returning his embrace. “If you get to save me, I get to save you too.”

There was a heavy pause. “You missed the fireworks because of me,” he whispered, and hearing the guilt in his voice nearly undid you. “I don’t even know how to compensate for something you’ve waited so long to see.”

Although there was that downside, something within you wasn’t as devastated at the thought as you’d expected to be. “There’s always next year, Ponyboy,” you reassured him. You then smiled deviously. “Or should I say thief?”

Hyunjin pulled away slightly, holding you still as he blushed scarlet with embarrassment. “I suppose you know I’m no adventurer.”

You caught the slight fear in his eyes, and your heart broke. He really thought you’d be wary of him now that you knew of his true identity.

Squeezing his shoulders, you offered him mischief through your smile. “Being a witch isn’t so far off from being a thief.”

A little laugh spluttered from him, but he quickly reigned in his amusement, looking at you once again. “You know, I never really wanted to do this,” he confessed. “As a child, I always had to look out for myself, and stealing was the only way to escape poverty.”

His hands tightened on you. “I really want to get out of this mess. In fact, I was going to let Jisung get away with everything, but he took something very precious of mine.”

He turned to his satchel, the one his nemesis was said to have pinched, and went through the inside until he brought out the most stunning necklace, the diamonds glistening as gold swirls curled along its edges, the golden chain studded with more of that jewel all around. 

“Hyunjin,” you breathed out, observing the jewellery. “It’s beautiful.”

The man hummed in agreement. “It was my mother’s,” he said, admiring the necklace. “It is the one of the few things which is truly mine.”

His soft voice hardened. “Jisung stealing it was the last straw for me.”

You upheld his gaze. “I would have done the same.”

He did not say anything for a bit, just regarding you under the moonlight. Well, in his eyes, it was more admiration, awe-stricken marvelling. 

You, in his eyes, were a little too stunning under this night. 

The thief was to say offer something when he heard more voices. 

Freezing, he turned around, only to find more men joining Changbin. The men who contributed in saving him.

After staring at you a moment longer, he let go of you. “Let’s join the others.”

You nodded, not missing his hand on the small of your back as he led you to his friends. Chan, Seungmin and Minho were all talking amongst themselves, despite the unconscious bodies around them. They all noticed you both walking towards them, and instantly they all smiled at your arrival.

“____!” Chan exclaimed, raising his wooden fiddle in excitement. 

“We missed you so much at the inn!” Seungmin added, holding his silver flute.

“I nearly died ten minutes ago, prick,” Hyunjin guttered, but was only responded with more laughter. 

Minho, raking a hand through his fire-kissed hair, clicked his tongue at you, dipping his eyes. “Not even a day and you’ve muddied the shoes,” he drawled, earning a stuck out tongue from you.

“When did you arrive?” you asked him. “I only heard Chan and Seungmin’s singing.”

“I was handling more men further ahead.” he then rolled his eyes. “Felix and Jeongin were supposed to help me but the little one’s stomach started to hurt. Apparently he ate too many doughnuts in the afternoon.”

Hyunjin glanced at you, eyebrows raised, and you scoffed. “Excuse me! You were taking your time! Not my fault Jeongin and I got hungry.”

“You did not get to see the fireworks, then,” Seungmin stated. You shook your head, hugging yourself a little tighter. 

“What a shame,” Chan said, sadness in his usual cheerful tone. “I remember you talking about the event so fondly.”

Changbin, who was quiet throughout, then spoke up. “Actually,” he started, looking at you. “I think I can fix that.”

You and all the men turned to him, baffled. He only said, “Minho, bring Felix and Jeongin to the docks in fifteen minutes. Bring some good snacks with you.”

“What have you got in mind, Bin?” Hyunjin asked, furrowing his brows, but Changbin only stepped past the group, whistling.

“Follow me, friends!” he declared, sheathing his dagger. Everyone, still confused, decided to follow, save for Minho, who turned to another avenue to fetch the absent two.

You and Hyunjin walked side by side, hands skimming against each other as the men in front of you led you out of the network of residences, until you were away from the palace walls, and any more danger.

Soon, you found yourself descending the same steps where the thief had left you to face Jisung. The people had dispersed, as the fireworks had ended, yet when Changbin turned the corner, to the far end of the harbour, his little, firework-filled boat still floating upon the sea. Kkami was present too, waiting patiently for his owner to return, and when Hyunjin saw him he sighed in relief, hurrying towards him.

The horse neighed eagerly as the man stroked his mane. Changbin stepped past him, carefully getting on the boat, searching for some flint and steel.

It was then you realised. 

“We’re getting our very own fireworks show!”

The sailor grinned at your enthusiasm. “We can’t let a lady be disappointed.”

Chan tapped on his fiddle. “Seungmin and I can play the music!” he declared, wrapping an arm around his friend.

You clasped your hands together. “Oh, I’d love to dance!”

“Let me join in!”

Stunned, you whirled around, and found Jeongin running up to you, beaming from ear to ear as Felix and Minho followed behind, holding food. You returned his smile, calling, “Jeongin! Feeling better now?”

Blushing, he scratched the back of his neck, raven waves curling under his ears. “Ah, I really wished I could have helped at the palace walls, but my stomach chickened out on me.”

Felix tutted as he set the food along the benches. “I told you to stop eating, but you do not listen!”

“He goes after all of us here, then,” Minho commented.

“Can someone help me with the lighting?” Changbin asked, and the men flocked to assist him.

Only Hyunjin stood rooted as he tied his messy locks back, staring at you with an indecipherable emotion.

It did not go unnoticed. “What’s wrong?” 

You could tell he was thinking. Pondering hard over what he wanted to do next. 

He then brought his hands upon your shoulders, turning your back to him. “Hyunjin?” you got out, surprised, but he said nothing as you heard him fishing something out of his satchel.

You were about to turn around and scold him when you felt cold metal upon your neck. 

Looking down, a small gasp escaped you when you found his mother’s necklace settled on your skin, tinkling as the man clipped the lock under your head of hair. When he was done, he spun you around, assessing the added accessory upon you. 

He smiled lovingly at the sight.

“Hyunjin, I-” you started, trying to untie the necklace. “I-I can’t take this from you.”

Pausing your efforts, he held onto your hands. “Yes you can. I want you to have this.” you tried to argue some more, but he raised his brows. “No! I don’t want to hear more.”

Your eyes swirled with something akin to affection. “Hyunjin.”

His lips curved upwards. “You know, ____, I always call you a witch but…” he let out a shuddered breath, fingers playing with a stray curl. “But you certainly never looked like one.”

Your heart, damn the thing, fluttered at the statement. You only held onto the lapels of his vest, wishing that all these people would fade away, if only for a moment. 

The long-haired thief leaned in a little, tugging you closer, and perhaps he would have closed the distance were it not for Changbin letting out a victorious screech. 

“It’s happening, everyone!” 

He quickly jumped off the boat, others following as the spark was lightened. Everyone took a few steps back, watching the spark fuse closer to the fireworks, Hyunjin holding onto you still.

Chan bumped his elbow against Seungmin, firing up his instrument. “Let us liven up, everyone!”

Seungmin brought the mouth of the flute to his lips, and instantly, music began to fill the docks. 

“When will the fireworks start?” Minho demanded, tapping his foot, but when Felix shushed everyone, they all watched as the fuse hit the heart of the firecrackers.

The first thing that welcomed you all was a very loud BANG!

Everyone jumped at the sheer light which flashed before your eyes, shooting for the stars as it burst into the sky, scattering bright brilliance upon the sea. More and more fireworks joined in on this fire-like race, exploding everywhere in the air, igniting gasps of wonder from the crowd.

You were the most awed in the entire group. Ever since you were young, you had admired this show from miles away, but now, when it was a few metres from you, it filled with you with the same light that it spluttered down on you. Although it was not the official fireworks which you wished to see originally, this alternative was just as extraordinary - more so, as it was done just for you.

The fireworks were then accompanied with music, being fired up once more by the innkeepers, and instantly everyone began to dance along the merry beat, singing along to Seungmin’s and Jeongin’s honey voice. 

You joined in on this fun, making sure to swing along to the music with everyone, joining arms with Jeongin and then moving to Minho, changing to Changbin and then frolicking with Felix, you even sang with Seungmin, chuckling with Chan as you try to steal his fiddle, and you twirled and twirled in the middle, dress and plait trailing after you.

Hyunjin, sat upon the benches, clapped to the merriment, his smile lingering whenever a breathless laugh escaped you as you danced with all his friends. When you caught sight of him settled alone, you ran to him, ushering him to join in. he refused at first, hurryingly saying he hated to dance, but you grabbed onto his hands and wrenched him off the bench, a yelp fleeing his lips as he was dragged into the center.

Hands still clasped, you led them about your waist, not missing the blush staining his cheeks as you planted your hands on his shoulders, moving him along to the music.

“Oh, my, Ponyboy,” you drawled as you felt yourself being led by hands. “You are a good dancer.”

“I never said I was bad at it,” he mused, twirling you around. You tried to fight your smirk, both pairs of eyes joining in their twinkling.

Yours began to glisten even more when you dared to say, “You know, Ponyboy,” you started, voice dripped with mischief. 

He watched you, lips twitching. “Yes?”

“When the fireworks occur…” you lock your hands behind his neck. “You’re supposed to kiss the person you’re dancing with.”

The way Hyunjin's eyes widened at the implication had your stomach in disarray. The surprise quickly darkened when he leaned in, cocking his head. “Oh, really?” his little chuckle was felt on your lips. “It is too bad you’re a witch, then.”

Returning his laughter, you dared raise your fingers to his ribbon, untying the strip and letting his luscious curls fall at his shoulders. “What a blessing for you,” you said, “That this witch does not follow the rules.”

The man’s smile was unforgettable. “Neither does this thief.”

That was all he said, before closing the distance between you two.

The moment his lips touched yours, it was like another round of fireworks had erupted. This time, these fireworks were within you and the man before you, moving plush lips against you and bringing you the finest form of sweetness you had ever tasted. You melted under him, he pulling you right against his chest, unable to accept any distance between the both of you. 

A soft noise left you as he pulled away from you, mouth parted, glistening like the diamonds adorning you. Around you, cheers broke out from the boys, whooping at the kiss you and Hyunjin shared. Although your cheeks burned, you giggled at their reaction, staying close with the thief.

The dancing only continued, as the fireworks still illuminated the docks. You turned to Hyunjin once again, whose hands encircled your waist still. 

As you moved slowly along to the music, the man dipped his face, settling his forehead against yours. His erratic breathing mixed with yours. “I am...so happy to have met you, witch,” he whispered to you. 

Your heart, if it was not already in the clouds, now elevated to seventh heaven. “You’re not so terrible yourself, thief.”

It was his answering smile which had him pulling you closer again, finding paradise in your arms as you and your friends danced the night away under the fireworks.

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓈 𝓂𝑒, 𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓈 𝓂𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓉

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𝐵𝓊𝒸𝓀𝓎 𝐵𝒶𝓇𝓃𝑒𝓈 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝑒𝒹: imagine-all-the-fandoms said:

Hey you 💕 I’m so in love with your imagines, you’re a great writer! I hope it’s okay to send smth in as well ☺️ a Bucky one for where you’re crushing each other and head to a mission together in the snowy mountains where you get trapped by a storm in a cute cabin. First he’s all shy around you but in the end it’s all cute as he makes a little fire and shares his clothes to keep you warm which also leads to cuddling and finally sharing a kiss and even some loving smut when you finally admit your feelings ?

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Smut, 18+, Fluff, friends to lovers, shy Bucky, fluff, did I mention fluff? Plant stuff? you’re kinda like that bitch from sky high lol

𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇’𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒: this is too cute and I had so much writing this, i feel it radiates like huge cottage core energy but in the snow XD anyways hope you like it bug and thanks for the request!!

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You were walking from the greenhouse/garden room holding a small plant when you bumped into a much larger figure, accidentally dropping said plant.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” the voice said.

“It’s ok. I’m sorr-” you stopped.

The person was Bucky and under his big black boot was your little baby plant that you were taking to your room to nurse. You stared at him with a shocked and upset look on your face and Bucky stepped back to see the poor plant squished on the floor. 

Wanda was a bystander and rushed over to help clean up. She used her powers and mended the plant pot back together but the poor bud was still wilted. 

“Are you guys ok?” Wanda asked, handing you the pot with the wilted plant. 

“You squished my plant,” you said monotonously.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said, panicked.

You playfully shook your head in disappointment trying your hardest to burst into giggles. It was ok because it’s what you do. You did… plant stuff. You weren’t exactly sure what your abilities were but you did know that you worked with plants very well.

You looked down at the bud and softly blew. Sage green magic circled the plant and life went back into the little sprout. Bucky’s panicked expression softened as he watched you use your magic. The way you smiled when the plant came back to life. That proud smile you had on made him smile too.

“There. All better,” you looked back Bucky. 

“All better,” he repeated with a smile.

“Hey, Y/n. Bucky,” Steve called you from down the hall.

“What’s up?”

“Fury needs you two in the conference room, says he’s got a mission for you two,” Steve walked away after he informed you both.

“Lead the way darling,” Bucky gestured his hand forward.

“Ah, you’re here. Why do you have a plant in your hand?”

“Bucky squished my flower under his boot,” you said.

“It was an accident,” Bucky mumbled.

“Moving on. I have a mission for you both in the alps. Some thugs are trading alien plant life so I need you,” he pointed to you, “to collect some samples for Tony and Bruce and Bucky will be there to protect you. If any plants die or get frozen you know what to do.”

You were plenty capable to handle yourself but you’ve never had to do so in the snow. You generally stuck to warmer and sunnier places when it came to missions. Bucky was pretty used to the snow so he knows to survive better in case you get stuck; but that won’t happen obviously.

“Wheels up in 30.”

You got to hide out and you were sort of struggling considering you had maybe seven layers of clothes on. You felt like a big puffy marshmallow waddling your way to the crime scene. The mission was somewhat successful, Bucky had really done all the work fighting and you just ran around tying up bad guys with vines and holding little seedlings in your pockets.

All was going until it didn’t. The wind picked up quickly and snow started thrashing around you and the others. You were fighting on the side of a hill, well Bucky was. You were still running around trying not to get shot. There was rumbling and the ground shook under you. You looked at Bucky who had taken down someone and his face held fear and concern. 

“Run!” he yelled.

“Where!” you started running anyhow.

“Follow me, doll!” 

You tried your best to run through heavy snow and with many many layers of clothes on you but it was becoming a struggle. Especially running against the wind made it a challenge on its own. Bucky was far ahead of you but thankfully turned back to grab your hand effectively dragging you alongside him running from the tumbling snow chasing after you. 

“Think you get us above ground? Maybe a tree? Rock platforms?” Bucky shouted, still running with his arm up to prevent snow and ice from getting in his eyes.

“The snow’s too thick and the wind is too strong,” you shouted back.

“I’m sorry,” you shouted shakily.

Before Bucky could respond the snowfall did a hiccup before finally settling within feet of you and Bucky. You two were exhausted and if you had to run any further, you’d probably be consumed by snow because you barely had any energy left in you to keep running.  

The wind was still harsh and the snow fell rapidly making it almost impossible to see even 5 feet in front of you. 

“We should find shelter,” Bucky said close to your face. Your nose was nearly numb from the cold and the warmth from Bucky’s proximity made it almost feel like it was burning. 

“I’m just following you,” you said with tired eyes.

After what felt like hours of walking you were practically dragging your feet and legs across the thick snow. The blankets of snow  glistened beautiful and sparkled under the sun. despite the sun now being out the weather was still almost unbearably cold. Your body still shook from the chill.

“You know, I’ve never liked winter. It was always so plain and boring with all the snow. And it’s so fucking cold; I’d rather be laying in the sun in a meadow. But this,” you circled your arms and twirled, “This is beautiful.”

“You what’s even more beautiful?” Bucky held your hand.

“What?” you said shyly.

“That cabin up ahead,” he smirked, and you smacked his chest.

“Well then, come on. I’m still freezing my butt off, and surely the seedlings in my pocket are frozen too,” you started treading the snow, grunting every step.

You got inside after a few tugs because the lock was practically frozen shut. The cabin was seemingly abandoned, else the hosts would certainly be surprised. Nonetheless, Bucky searched the house for anything to give you warmth. You stood in the living room area of the cabin awaiting instructions from Bucky since he seemed to know what he was doing. 

“Hey, doll. It looks like this place’s got two fireplaces. One here and in the master bedroom. Take your pick.”

“How long will be here?” you asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve hardly got any signal to send an alert.”

“That means we’ll probably spend the night. We should use the bedroom.”

“You can use the bedroom. I set a fire in the fireplace there, and then I’ll set one up out here for me when you’re taken care of,” he said.

“I thought we were sharing the room,” you mumbled, feeling embarrassed. See you had this little, itty, bitty, tiny crush on the fellow. But how could you not? He was perfect! You certainly weren’t going to waste the opportunity to share a bed with the guy if you ‘had to’. 

“Let’s get you taken care of,” he smiled softly.

You walked to the back room where the master bedroom was and it was beautiful. The bed was disassembled, the mattress was leaning to the side on the wall and the bed frame was taken apart. Bucky moved the bedframe to the side and flopped the mattress down to the floor. 

“Let me check for any blankets in this place,” Bucky ran off. 

You looked around and walked into the connected bathroom. To your absolute surprise there were small plants, unfortunately dead, and pots filled with dried out and chalky dirt. You could work with that. 

You picked them up and took them to the bed. You sat on the mattress and placed the pots in front of you on the floor at your feet. You pulled out the frozen seedlings and plants and placed each one in their own pot. 

That same sage green magic circled your hands and traveled to the pots where the dirt grew damp and the seedlings grew into buds. You smiled to yourself before looking up, eyes meeting Bucky’s who watched you with a grin on his face.

“It’s amazing what you do,” he said holding a bunch of blankets.

“It’s nothing.”

“No-” he was interrupted from the branches of the trees right outside the room baniging against the window hard. 

“Oh no. storm’s picking up again,” Bucky mumbled.

“Are we gonna be ok?” you asked.

“”We’ll be fine. Now are you hurt?”

“Just cold,” you whispered.

“Ok if you feel uncomfortable let me know and I’ll leave you ok?” you nodded.

“I need you to take your layers off until you reach your thermal.”

You zipped down your snow jacket that was incredibly wet from all the snow from outside. Next was a layer of your snow pants after you took your snow boots off, which were also wet; both the pants and boots.

Bucky helped you with the rest of your layers under you simply wore a thermal and your undergarments underneath. Your body was shaking still and the fire still wasn’t on yet. 

“Here are all the blankets I could find. Warm yourself up while I turn on the fireplace,” Bucky walked outside to gather some stumps of wood that were conveniently stacked next to the front door. He came back with a rock and banged it against his metal hand to create sparks which thankfully successfully lit the fire. 

“Are you feeling ok?” he asked shyly.

“Sort of, but the fire’s going so I think I’ll feel better very soon,” you responded.

Bucky was about to leave you and make his own fire in the living room when you stopped him.

“Buck, you don’t have to leave,” you said.

“Thought I’d give you some privacy,” he responded.

“I don’t need privacy, besides the fire’s already made. Just stay here,” you scooted on the bed for him to sit.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Come sit,” you smiled and patted the spot next to you.

He sat with you very closely and you feel his body heat radiating off his body like a heater. He asked if it was ok if he got rid of wet clothes too and you let him. When he took his last layer off he accidentally lifted his thermal shirt with it exposing his lower stomach. The muscle of his abdominals surprised you and you couldn’t help but oogle.

Bucky’s cheeks grew red and not from the cold. You two sat in silence. Your body was still trembling slightly and bucky wanted to help you. He just didn’t know if you;d be comfortable with the particular survival tactic. 

“I don’t want to upset you or make you uncomfortable but body heat and skin to skin contact is the most effective way to warm the body.

“Bucky, are you making a move on me?” you giggled.

“Uh no- sorry I, uh I-”

“I’m just teasing,” you smiled.

“I want to help you,” he whispered.

“Ok.”

Bucky moved away slightly and reached for the bottom of your shirt hesitantly looking to you for permission of which you granted. Your arms came up and the thermal slowly peeled off of your cold body. You were simply left in a bra and your arms covered yourself in coldness and also slight insecurity. 

Bucky also took his thermal off and tossed it to the side. Your eyes trained on his torso littered with little scars and bruises that made you want to reach out and hold him. He leaned back on the mattress and lifted his hips to remove his thermal pants and then looked back to you to make sure you were still ok.

You stood up and quickly discarded your pants as well as seeing Bucky turn his away from seeing you undress; which made your heart warm at his manners. When you were done you sat back down much closer to Bucky this time.

His arms wrapped around you and both your legs hitched over his thighs as you curled into him. His body was so hot, figuratively and literally. Your body instantly warmed up against his hardened muscles. You stayed this way while the fire burned and Bucky told you stories about him and Steve back in the 40s before everything happened. 

There was a moment of silence that settled between you and you looked into Bucky’s eyes. His hand came up and softly brushed the air from your face. You leaned into hand and smiled faintly to him and he smiled back. 

Bukcy leaned his forehead down to press against your and you could feel the tip of his equally cold nose on yours. You looked at each other waiting for the other to say something, anything.

“Are you going to kiss me?” you whispered.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he whispered back.

“Please.”

Bucky lips attached to yours ever so gently. Your body practically melted against him, chills raising on your skin but not from the cold. His hands caressed the skin of your stomach and ribs and you moved straddled his thighs.

You felt growing wet from the way he held you tenderly against him. You started grinding yourself against his crotch feeling his dick getting hard pressing up against your core. Small moans and breathy sighs emitted from you and Bucky and his hands roamed to your ass. 

Bucky’s lips went to neck and you threw your head back for him and threaded your fingers through his hair. Bucky nipped and bit down on the skin before soothing it over with his tongue and dragged it down to your collarbone. 

You reached around and unclipped your bra and Bucky tossed over to the pile of clothes you had discarded beforehand. Bucky looked down at your chest for a second but averted his eyes to prevent you from being uncomfortable. 

His hands however kneaded the flesh of your breasts; insanely warm against your skin. 

“You’re so pretty, darling,” Bucky whispered in your ear making you shudder.

He flipped you over; the blanket fell to the side making your nipples harden from the chilly air. He stood up to remove his boxers and ran his hands up your legs sensually playing with the hem of your panties you still had on. 

He looked at you with gentle eyes before you nodded eagerly for him to take them off. After he did he crawled up body before settling between your hips. His cock was settled against your pussy and it practically throbbed, aching for more. 

He pumped his cock with his hand a few times leaning down to capture your lips with his. When he slid inside, you moaned loudly taking a hold of his shoulders with your hands. Bucky was huge! Nothing like any of your past lovers, not that you really many. 

“Hold on, hold on. I just need a second,” you told Bucky. 

He leaned down and pressed kisses all over your face; your hands cupping his face and jaw giggling. You looked into eyes once again and nodded letting him know that it was alright to move again. 

Bucky was in absolute heaven right now.

Your walls felt so soft and velvety as he easily thrusted in and out of you. A thin layer of sweat formed on his forehead. His hand reached down your arm and he intertwined his fingers with yours resting by your head. 

Bucky had been dreaming of this moment longer than he’d like to admit. He never considered himself to be a shy person; and definitely not jealous either. But when he met you, he always stuttered and stumbled over his feet and words barely getting a working sentence out of his mouth. 

Whenever Steve or Sam spoke to you, and generally flirted a lot of the time, he envied them for being so relaxed around you. He’d wanted to ask you on a proper date and take you home to worship you like you deserve; wake up next to you and make love all over again. But he couldn’t say hi without turning bright red.

But here you were, a dream come true, squirming, whining and moaning beautifully under him. 

“You are so gorgeous, baby. God, I can’t believe you're here,” Bucky kissed you. 

“Oh, Bucky you feel so good,” you moaned.

“Fuck, baby you’re taking me so well,” he praised.

You both moaned feeling your orgasm approaching rapidly. Your legs wrapped around Bucky’s torso driving him deeper in making you practically scream in pleasure. Bucky’s hips snapped in and out of you wildly desperate for that release he knows is going to be the best he’s ever had. 

When the coil in the pit of your stomach burst your back arched into Bucky and his face buried into your neck as he practically growled in pleasure. 

“Fuck that was amazing,” he kissed your neck and chuckled.

“Why are you always so shy around me? We probably could’ve done this way sooner,” you patted his back. 

“I, uh-”

“There you go stuttering again,” you giggled.

“I’m sorry. Y/n, I really like you and I have since I’ve met you. I don’t know why I feel so brain dead whenever I’m around you. I used to have no problem asking a pretty dame on a date, but when I met you, I couldn’t even say hi let alone ‘Hey wanna go on a date because I think you’re the most beautiful angel I’ve ever met in my goddamn life?’ It felt impossible,” Bucky sat up and sat you on his legs still wrapped in the blanket. 

“Bucky, I- oh,” you gasped.

“What?” you pointed to the wooden floor of the cabin. There were small buds and patches of grass coming through the cracks of the floorboards. There were also vines and branches covering the walls coming from the floor as well.

“Oh! Did I do that?” you looked back at him and he nodded.

“Oopsies,” you giggled.

“What if we had sex in the garden?” Bucky asked.

“Oh my gosh, Bucky!” you laughed.

“What?” a smile grew on his face watching you laugh in pure delight.

“You’re so silly,” you shook your head before yawning.

“Come on, doll. Let’s go sleep and we’ll see what’s gonna happen after the storm passes,” Bucky kissed you goodnight and you fell asleep comfortably in his arms.

___________________________________________

@mathletemadison 

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