#and I am tired of people not dedicating like a minute to search if the writer's is still writing for certain fandom or story

[gaypirate420]

What if I just lost my shit and deleted all my descendants fics?

[shubblelive]

— NOT MUCH LONGER

summary : wilbur has always been dedicated to his viewers, sometimes too much. his fans are aware of this, you are aware of this, and he is aware of this. so when you go multiple days without seeing your boyfriend because of how hard he's working you take matters into your own hands, not realising that thousands of people are there watching you do it.

genre : fluff

warnings : mentions of eating/food, a few swearwords, wilbur not taking care of himself, very small panicky moment

pairing : cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader

pronouns : she/her, reader is called wilbur's girlfriend/wife

featuring : cc!wilbur soot

requested : Could you do a fic where the reader isn’t a very public person (in regards to the internet) and one day, wilbur’s streaming and she goes in and brings him some food and kisses him, not knowing he was live, and when she notices, she just gets all red and embarrassed and wilbur goes out of frame with her and its just all fluffy, and the chat goes craaazy

word count : 1.3K

note : hi lmao. i know, i know it's been nearly 2 months since i 've posted anything. school really caught p to me, i was so stressed out i was crying like multiple times a day for a few weeks. i wanna thank you guys for your patience, i have one more week of classes before spring break and then exams are right after that so i am really unsure of how much free time i'm gonna have until like mid-november.

There was a lot of things that you loved about Wilbur. Of course there was, the two of you had been together since university, nearing on 5 years. Knowing for someone that long, though, and there were obviously aspects of your boyfriend that you were less than fond of. There weren’t a lot, but the main one was the fact that he was a major workaholic. 

You were completely understanding of how important his job was to him. He had been doing it longer than you’d even known each other and you’d never want to do anything to make it seem like you were anything less than supportive. 

But the last couple of weeks had been driving you crazy. 

He’d be out all day filming for twenty different videos or in the studio - that was fine, you had your own work and hobbies to keep you occupied. But then he’d get home and it was straight to editing, or writing, or meetings for merch, album art, new videos. It had gotten to the point where you hadn’t even seen him in two days. You knew he’d been home, you vaguely heard the shower running while you were asleep, so tired you couldn’t bring yourself to lift your head. Clothes had been added to the laundry hamper, and water glasses had been added to the sink. He’d messaged you, of course. You were high on his list of priorities, it being a no-brainer that whenever he got a free minute he was texting you to let you know where he was going, promising that he’d be home soon.

When you got home from work, you were pleasantly surprised to find his docs at the front door, neatly kicked to the side so they were out of the way along with the rest of your collective pile. You put your stuff down and practically floated around the house, searching for your boyfriend. Not in the kitchen, though the dishes had been done for you, left to dry. Not in the living room, though there was a coat draped over the back of the couch that you picked up and deposited in the bedroom (also empty, but his side of the bed was rumpled like he’d fallen straight on top of the blankets). 

You were walking down the hallway when you finally heard him. He was talking softly, not outside of the norm for him. His office wasn’t soundproof, and you often heard him through the walls as you went about your day, whether that was laughing loudly as he streamed, or the muffled sound of him strumming his guitar, trying to write a new song. He was being quiet, probably editing a video. You knew he had his own room in the group office, just for him to edit, but he liked to bring them home sometimes. 

You went back into the kitchen to dry the dishes for Wilbur and you noted that there weren’t any new plates added to the pile. You knew that Wilbur had eaten while he was gone, he’d texted you every time they ordered food, but you also knew that it had been a couple of days since his last home cooked meal. You, admittedly didn’t have much in the pantry, but it was made with love, which was the thought that counts. 

That was the thought on the tip of your tongue as you knocked gently on the door, a plate of mac and cheese and a glass of water in hand, smile breaking out at the sight of your boyfriend at his desk. 

Wilbur’s viewers had always been aware that he had a girlfriend. He mentioned you for the first time after you guys had been together for a year, and since then you were a sporadic presence in his online life, maybe a mention every couple of weeks or months. They didn’t know anything else though, not even your name. His viewers, over the past couple of years had developed their own nicknames for you. It started from one of the first streams you were mentioned in, someone in chat asked if you were Wilbur’s wife. He’d laughed, said no, and then tried to say you were not his wife, and instead pronounced it “wiff.” It got slightly out of hand over the years, with most people lovingly referring to you online as wiffleball. Wilbur had apologised profusely for the slip up, but you found it too funny to actually care. It was definitely weird for you to see, though, the phrase ‘Wiffleball’ randomly trending every couple of months. 

So, they didn’t know your name, and they definitely didn’t know your face. Wilbur was usually on high alert for even your footsteps outside the door, let alone you wanting to come inside. He’d yell that he was live, and you’d wait dutifully at the door for him to come outside. It was more for your sake than his, but he cared just as much about your right to privacy as you did. But today, he was so preoccupied with the fact that he hadn’t seen you in nearly three days that he completely forgot to. 

The monitor with his own face in it was tilted away from the door, and you were so entranced by the smile on his face that you didn’t notice until it was too late. He was standing to meet you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Hi, lovely, I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too, Wil,” Your hands were on his arms the second you placed the food down, and you were right about to kiss him properly when you saw a fast movement out the corner of your eye. His chat was whizzing by so fast that you almost couldn’t read it. You backed out of frame immediately, almost out of instinct, wide eyes meeting Wilbur’s. “You’re streaming?”

“Fuck,” Wilbur made sure that you were definitely out of the frame before putting his stream back on the loading screen and going back to check on you.

Your breathing was much faster than usual and he could all but see your heart jumping out of your chest. “I am so sorry, darling, I was too busy being happy to see you that I completely forgot that I was even streaming. Are you okay?”

Your hands found Wilbur’s shirt, clenching it between your fists and burying your face in the fabric across his chest. His hands were securely on your back as he held you while you calmed your breathing. You weren’t crying no, he could tell you just needed to slow your breaths down and you’d be alright. He was whispering reassurances in your ear and within a few minutes your heart had calmed down. “I’m alright.”

“I’m so sorry,” Wilbur launched immediately into apologies again but your vice grip on his shirt stopped him.

“I’m alright, Wilbur.” You strangely were alright. What you could see on the chat were all nice things, they were all so excited to see you. “Never want to go back on your stream again, but I’m okay with them seeing me.”

“You don’t have to be okay, love, if you’re not. I’ll get the VOD taken down when I’m done and edit you out and say something about not circulating the video, I am so sorry-”

“I’m fine, Wilbur.” You pulled the fabric closer to your chest, the movement effectively silencing him. “Like I said. I am still good not showing up on your streams and stuff, but you can leave the video up. I’m alright with it, I promise.”

He softened at your determined face. “I love you,” he said in place of another apology. “I love you, and I am still sorry that I forgot to tell you. No more until you say so, I promise.”

“Thank you,” you said earnestly, loosening your grip on his shirt. “I’ll let you finish up now, do you think you’ll be a while?”

Wilbur kissed you softly before sitting back in his chair and looking up at you full of love. “Trust me, I definitely won’t be much longer.”

[kaliii-is]

The stars above us

Pairing: Regulus Arcturus Black x reader

Summary: After all sneaking out isn’t that bad.

A/n: First fic that i ever post!!! Tell me what you think, i did my best writing this. If there’s any mistakes pls lmk💕

The corridors always tend to get silent at night, especially on a school night, reason is the students get scared of getting caught. But there always will be some little rebels who think of themselves above the rules, and you definitely weren’t one of them, well that’s what you tried to convince yourself as you were currently drawing in the astronomy tower.

The previous day had been a particularly, let’s say stressful one,as your O.W.Ls were approaching, everyday seemed to get busier, and of course shittier, every week was getting more tiring, more exhausting, you practically reached your limit. And deep down you knew that if you continued at that rate, you would surely be the death of yourself.

So after such a day, you found it only fair if you dedicated some time to yourself without having to worry about what you would do next. After what you thought was 30 minutes, you finally checked your watch, realizing that it has been 2 hours, and even though you would’ve loved to continue the drawing that you started, you followed your better judgement and decided that it was finally time to go back to your dorm.

You packed your stuff and went down the endless stairs that led to the tower, you then were silently walking through the corridors, doing your very best to not draw any attention to yourself, and you succeeded, you were finally able to perceive the door of your house’s common room, and just as you were about to open the door, you felt a harsh tug on your wrist, making you turn around. You searched for the person’s eyes, and when you did find them, you were met with grey eyes. Very uncommon right? Well that definitely wasn’t your first thought, the first thing that you noticed was their undeniable beauty. No living creature could resist those gorgeous eyes, it’s like they were the perfect mix -

- What are you doing here at such an hour?

- I’m sorry?

- What are you doing here? It’s practically one in the morning, you should be in your dorms. Is there a party somewhere or something?

- A party some-? No no, i am alone, look i’m so sorry is there any possible way that i could get my way out of this?

- Really? That’s the best you can do?

- Look i’m not one to usually sneak out-

- But you did it this time, which gives me full power to either take out house points or give you detention.

- How about none?

- This really is your first time huh?

- I told you!

- Look, i’m feeling quite generous right now,so just tell me why you snuck out, and if the reason is good enough, i might let you go with no consequences.

- Really?

- Hurry up i might change my mind.

- Fine, okay , i had a very shitty week, and i didn’t have much time for myself or for anything other than studying actually, so i finally had some time to draw, and i used it. But i can only draw when i’m in the astronomy tower for some reason.

He seemed to consider wether or not he should let you go, but after what felt like forever he finally said.

- Okay, fine , but -

- Oh come on!

- Let me finish or i’ll send you in detention; he stopped waiting for an answer, you obviously gave him none; like i was saying, i’ll let you go if you give me your name.

- Really? That’s it ? Perfect! My name is Y/n L/n. What about you?

- Regulus, Regulus black.

I do not see Timothee Chalamet as Regulus in this fic, first because i want to give total freedom to the reader, and second due to his latest announcement about the ongoing war in Gaza ( he made a joke about the war). It may seem futile to some people, but when you know that no one dared to make a joke about the war in Ukraine, and that 10 578 people have died during the last month. It’s not funny, it’s cruel.

[headfulloflettuce]

The Human Who Fooled All of Prythian

21. New Acquaintances

Cosette stared at the detailed map of Prythian, illustrated in the book Ophelia gifted her. 

I forget how large the world of ACOTAR is due to how the books are written. Are there any other continents besides these ones?

She snuggled up into the blankets. Ophelia, who lay beside her, shifted as well, carefully braiding Cosette’s blonde hair.

“Do people from Prythian ever go to the faerie realms?”

“Sometimes, but it’s not common. The journey is too expensive and would take a long time.” Ophelia hummed, tying the braid she made with a small ribbon. She then took more hair and continued to braid it. 

Cosette traced the outline of Prythian with her finger.

“Say, did you ever come up with a better lie for where you came from than ‘random village in a forest’?”

“No.” Cosette admitted, “It really is a bad lie, isn't it?”

“Yes it is, which is why I think you should say you’re from the faerie realms instead.”

“You just said people don’t travel back and forth often.”

“Sure, but it’s more believable. You don’t have to even name a specific town.” Ophelia sat up, pointing to a forest on the map, “We can say you’re from a small settlement around here.”

“Isn’t that the same thing as ‘random village in a forest’?”

“No, it isn’t, because you’ve given a geographic location and a continent.” Ophelia laid back down, going back to braiding Cosette’s hair, “By doing that you create an illusion of telling the truth. When it comes to lying you want to give away some information; enough for the tale to be believable but not too much for people to go snooping.”

“I see your point, but won’t this all be for naught if someone decides to go searching for this village?”

“First off, if they go looking they’re very dedicated, and second, you can easily deflect and simply say they missed it. Or, even better, make them feel bad for running such an investigation on you.”

“Ah, so social manipulation is the answer to everything?”

Ophelia giggled, finishing another braid.

It felt strange having long hair. I had always kept it a bit below my shoulders, but now it had grown out past that.

Cosette turned the page, looking at the symbols representing each court, when suddenly there was a knock on the door. 

“Yes?” Ophelia sat up slightly.

A happy, but tired looking Forrest peaked in, “I made breakfast, feel free to come down.”

“Thank you, we’ll be there in a moment.” Cosette smiled, neither she or Ophelia in a hurry to get up from their comfy resting place.

“I recommend making haste as I am going to wake Fermin up next and he won’t leave you two pancakes.” With that warning Forrest closed the door.

Ophelia and Cosette scrambled to get up, rushing to change into proper clothes and come downstairs.

Forrest was gently coaxing Blanche awake, Fermin snuggled up in her arms, the two on a couch in the front area of the inn. The fae glanced at Cosette and Ophelia as the two had come down, gesturing toward the dining room.

Blanche opened her eyes, kissing her husband, “Good morning.”

“Good morning. Come eat.” Forrest gently shook Fermin, making the child open his eyes. 

Blanche sat up, trying to brush out her messy black hair. Looking at Fermin, she frowned at his usually neat locks sticking out in random places but made no move to brush out the child's hair, instead taking his hand and joining the group at the table. Forrest began putting the still warm pancakes onto everyone's plates.

Theo and his father came in several minutes later.

“Thank you for the delicious breakfast.” Ophelia dug into the food, trying to not eat too fast.

“Thank you!” Theo managed out through a full mouth.

“What’s the plan for today?” Cosette looked at the group before her.

“Rest.” Forrest stated, piling some pancakes onto Fermin’s plate. The child sleepily blinked at them.

Seems like Forrest’s threats were empty.

“Oh.” Cosette leaned over to Ophelia as Theo continued praising the pancakes, much to Forrest’s pleasure, “Is there something I should know?”

“The day after the Winter Solstice it’s traditional to not do anything.” Ophelia whispered back, “Most shops close and fae stay home.”

“Ah I see, and here I had a plan for today.”

“Of course you had a plan.” Ophelia rolled her eyes, stabbing a pancake and eating it.

“ What’s the plan?” Theo caught wind of their conversation, leaning over to join their secret whispering society.

“I was thinking of going to the perfumery and doing some paperwork.” Cosette admitted, “Nothing difficult, just some general prep. I was also thinking we could go pay off your debt, but if most places are closed I am unsure if we’ll be able to.”

“Actually, I would like to do that.” Theo spoke up.

“You would?”

“Yeah, I know it’s technically due tomorrow, but I would rather be safe than sorry.” Theo rubbed the back of his neck.

Cosette nodded approvingly, “I agree. Let’s try to find the men you owe and if they happen to be out today, we’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

“You shouldn’t bother those fae.” the elder said, “No one wants to be disturbed today., they’ll only be more aggressive than normal.”

Ophelia wore a conflicted expression, “On one hand yes, but on the other hand I think it’s better to bring the fight to them, rather than waiting for them to kick down our door.”

The elder shook his head, “Ugh, the youth, always ignoring what their betters tell them.”

Blanche’s smile tightened at the elder’s comment, “When it comes to things like debt, it’s better to be on top of things. However, going alone is dangerous.” she turned to Forrest, “Can you go with them? To make sure nothing bad happens?”

Forrest gave his wife a kiss on the cheek, “Of course dear, I would be happy to.”

Yeah, with Forrest I doubt any fae would want to pick a fight with us, considering the man was built like a tank.

Cosette enviously watched Theo pull on a light jacket, as she pulled on the new cloak Forrest and Blanche gifted her.

Damn you Winter fae and your natural resistance to the cold.

Ophelia leaned over to Cosette, her tone barely hiding her displeasure, “Shouldn’t his father be coming with us?”

“He should be.” Cosette agreed, pulling on the hat Ophelia gifted her, “But Theo says he’s not feeling well due to his age, so we should respect that.”

“All talk about his age, I’ve seen him be active when he wants to be. He’s just flat out lazy.” Ophelia huffed, “What I don’t understand is how he doesn’t even seem all that interested in paying off the debt he and his son collected. I mean look at him!”

Cosette glanced at the older fae, drinking a glass of wine and chatting with some of the inn’s guests casually, “I see your point Ophelia, but we can’t do much about it.”

Ophelia groaned quietly as Theo approached them.

“You three ready?” Forrest opened the front door.

“Yep!” Cosette smiled, following Theo out of the inn.

The group trudged through the snowy streets.

“Wow, the blizzard sure did a number on the capital.” Cosette stared in awe at the buildings and roads. Everything was white.

“I love the days following the Winter Solstice.” Theo said, “Everything is always so beautiful. They say it’s the Spirit of Winter giving thanks for all the offerings they were presented with.”

Cosette hummed, the snow engulfing her legs up to her knees at times.

It would have been nice if the Spirit had left the streets clean for some of us.

Forrest made walking through the snow look as if it were a regular Thursday. Even Theo seemed unbothered, practically skipping through it.

Not everyone here was built for this weather!

Ophelia stopped, waiting for Cosette to catch up. It was clear walking through the snow wasn’t easy for the Autumn fae, but she was still managing.

Noticing Cosette’s slow pace, Forrest approached the woman, offering her his hand, “Here hold on, I will help you walk.”

“Thank you.”

“Wow, Cosette, you’re weak.” Theo said.

Okay, ouch.

“It’s not my fault there is like three feet of snow.” Cosette retorted.

“Two to be more exact.” Forrest grunted, catching Cosette before she could fall face first into the snow, pulling her forward carefully, “Just enough to still be considered acceptable for walking.”

Forrest continued helping Cosette through the snow as they made their way out of the center of the capital and into the outer rings of the city.

“Forrest, do they call these the warmer districts?” Cosette giggled slightly at her own joke, remembering Blanche’s tour of the city.

“They do.” he answered.

Oh.

Cosette straightened her face, blushing, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude.”

Forrest nodded, “I understand, the naming is silly, but so is most modern lingo.”

Guess that remains consistent, regardless of what world you live in. Though, in retrospect, this lingo seemed more sad rather than funny.

The further they walked the more obvious the dirt in the streets was despite the snow covering the ground. The best way Cosette could describe this area was as the industrial district. There were no stores in sight, only large, wide buildings that looked like storehouses or factories. The environment looked more practical and boring compared to the rest of the capital.

Fae didn’t have automated machinery, right?

Cosette felt a shiver run down her back and glanced back, the feeling of being watched becoming overwhelming.

She was correct. A group of fae were staring through a window of one of the grim, stone buildings, their eyes narrowed with suspicion. Cosette walked closer to Ophelia, her friend quickly taking her hand and squeezing it.

The only benefit of this area was that she could at least walk without getting trapped in snow as it had clearly already been cleared by shovels and carts.

Cosette was tempted to ask Theo if he and his father came from this place, but decided to hold her tongue, not wanting to ruin his happy mood. 

“We’re here.” Theo stopped before a large factory-like building.

They all stared at the building, and then at each other.

“I’ll knock.” Theo said, knocking on the door. Nothing. Theo knocked again.

“Maybe they’re all busy-” Theo jumped as the door swung open to reveal a buff fae with eyebags glaring at him.

“What the hell do you all want?” he growled.

Theo gulped.

“We’re here to return some money that is owed.” Cosette spoke up, taking a step forward, putting a hand on Theo’s back reassuringly.

The fae stared at them, sighing, “Fine, come in.”

Seeing Theo’s hesitance, Cosette took the lead, following the fae deeper into the building. The complex was filled with hallways and doors. Rooms that were open were clearly used for storage, filled to the brim with various boxes and crates. A couple other faeries were scattered around, standing guard by specific doors or patrolling hallways, all wearing swords and displeased expressions.

Unsure how legal all this is.

The burly fae stopped at the end of a hallway and knocked.

“Come in.”

“Sir, we have guests.” the male fae stepped inside, the trio following him.

The fae that she had bought the building from was sitting behind a desk, looking over what seemed to be ledgers. The room was a complete juxtaposition to the rest of the building, with it looking somewhat comfortable. There were windows and neatly organized cabinets. The place looked almost cozy.

“Theo?” the man raised an eyebrow, “What are you doing here?”

“Lord Korvyn, I am here to pay off my debt.” Theo’s voice cracked slightly as he tried to get his bearings.

“Ah right, isn’t it due tomorrow?” Korvyn rested his face in his hands, watching them like a cat.

“It is, but I wanted to take care of the matter today.” Theo’s voice regained some power.

The fae whistled, “Wow, well this is unexpected. You were able to earn 6000 gold? In such a short time span? I was ready to send a dozen faes to your door tomorrow to convince you to cough up even a copper piece.”

Convince…right. Good thing we came today.

“Yes.” Theo didn’t explain that he had some money saved up before Cosette came into the picture.

Korvyn glanced around, “I don’t see your father, did he pass away? Already?”

Theo gritted his teeth, “No, he’s well. He’s just resting back home.”

The fae’s eyes landed on Ophelia and Cosette, making him tilt his head.

“You. The blonde one. You’re the one who purchased their run-down building, correct?”

For your information it’s no longer run-down and actually quite nice.

“Yes I am.” Cosette kept her expression neutral.

“Ah, so you’ve found yourself a new master Theo, how quaint.” the fae smirked.

“I do not own Theo, financially or physically. He’s just an employee at my perfumery.” Cosette defended.

“Perfumery? Are you by chance the new perfumer that has captured the hearts and gossip of the Winter Court’s population?”

“I don’t know if that’s the right way to describe me.”

“My, how humble.” Korvyn leaned back in his chair, “Well, since such an esteemed guest has come to visit me personally I guess I won’t kick you out. Even if it’s the day of rest.”

Wow, you’re so generous.

Theo approached the desk, placing a bag of money onto it. Korvyn opened it, counting its contents. The man’s brown curls, like dark chocolate, shifted as his slender, well taken care of fingers played with the coins. His blue eyes gazed fondly at the money, a curious spark deep within them. 

Cosette’s breath hitched when they made eye contact. The male smiled, breaking eye contact first, as he turned his attention back to the bag.

Korvyn gave off a completely different aura from Theo or Ophelia. The male felt more like Eris did. Well no. Not Eris. Eris was terrifying and the thought of him alone made Cosette want to jump out a window. However, this man had a semblance of power that nobility in Autumn had. 

Was he a High Fae?

He didn’t have any particular features that would make him be considered Lesser Fae. However, now that Cosette thought about it, she had never actually seen what makes Ophelia and Theo Lesser Fae.

“Well, all the money is there alright.” the male sighed, putting all the coins back into the pouch, and storing it inside a drawer of his desk, “I must say I am impressed.” he looked back at Cosette, “And confused as to why you decided to help our dear Theo out of his predicament.”

“I needed workers for the perfumery. It was just convenient to hire him.”

I felt bad kicking him and his father out.

“How practical.” Korvyn mused.

The burly fae standing to the side moved slightly, making Forrest uncross his arms, and move into a defensive position near Ophelia.

I do not like this tension.

“Since the debt has been paid, we shall go.” Cosette grabbed Theo’s hand.

“What’s with the rush?” the predatory expression returned to the fae’s face, “I haven’t seen Theo in a long time. I wish to catch up with him.”

“We have things to do.” Cosette answered bluntly.

“On the day of rest? Now that’s just preposterous.” Korvyn chidded.

Seeing Cosette’s unrelenting expression and Forrest’s glare Korvyn chuckled, “Alright, I understand. You all must be quite busy, however I wish to have a word with Theo before you leave. I only need ten minutes of his time.”

“I do apologize, but unfortunately we cannot stay as we have prior arrangements.”  Cosette deflected.

“I am afraid I didn’t make myself clear.” the fae’s smile remained but Cosette flinched as some sort of pressure was applied. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Forrest and Ophelia tense up too. Theo was literally shaking.

“I wish to speak to Theo alone. You’re welcome to wait for him outside the room.” Korvyn ordered.

Cosette…felt helpless as she let Theo’s hand go. She met his eyes, and he wore an expression of fear and resolution.

“It’s okay, it’ll be quick.” Theo tried to calm her.

It’s not okay, I should be able to protect you from this.

Ophelia quickly grabbed Theo’s hands, squeezing them reassuringly, “Theo, if they ask anything of you say no, okay?”

“I-yes?” Theo looked at Ophelia with a surprised expression.

“Scream if you need something, and don’t agree to any deals, no matter how enticing.”

Theo let out a nervous laugh, “You got it. Don’t worry, I don’t really want to end up in a huge amount of debt any time soon again, ya know?”

“We’re right outside.” Cosette gave him a smile that she hoped contained even a tinge of confidence.

“I know.”  he smiled back.

Forrest gave the fae’s shoulder a supportive pat.

“How sweet Theo, you’ve made some friends.” Korvyn crooned.

Theo shivered at the man’s comment but squeezed Ophelia’s hands back gently, “I won’t do anything stupid.”

“You better not.” Ophelia moved away from Theo, following Cosette and Forrest out the door under the critical eye of the guard who closed the door behind them, leaving them alone.

Cosette paced back and forth in front of the door while Ophelia sat on the wooden floor and Forrest leaned against the wall.

Think, Cosette, think. Is there anything you can do right now? Any-

Cosette paused, sniffing the air. 

Huh.

She sniffed again.

That sweet smell again. The one that the elder claimed to have been soap.

“Ophelia do you smell that?”

“Smell what?” Ophelia looked up at Cosette.

She was a fae, she must smell it.

“That sweet smell.”

Ophelia sniffed the air, “Yeah, what about it?”

“It smells like the soaps Theo and his father used.”

“Oh yeah, you’re right. I mean, maybe they bought it from here or something.” Ophelia shrugged.

Cosette inched down the empty hallway, trying to follow the smell. The further she walked the more the scent turned rancid, smelling of sour fruits, rather than a refreshing citrus. 

She stopped before a door behind which the smell seemed to be strongest. Forrest and Ophelia exchanged glances, watching her from the further end of the hallway.

Cosette reached for the doorknob, yelping as someone grabbed her hand roughly.

“What are you doing?” a guard that had been patrolling the hallway glared at her, his grip tightening around her arm.

Okay Cosette, play dumb.

“Ah, my apologies. I was looking for the restroom.”

Nailed it.

“You think I am going to believe that?”

“I am sorry, I really was looking for it.” Cosette pouted at him.

Please believe this act. Please believe this act. Please believe this act.

The man glowered, his face turning even more pissy as Ophelia approached them.

“Let my friend go.”

“Your friend shouldn’t have gone snooping.”

“She said she was looking for the restroom.” Forrest stepped closer, towering over the male fae.

The guard growled, tightening his grip on Cosette’s arm.

Forrest growled back, taking another step forward.

Cosette stared.

Are you two dogs?

“Now, now, that’s no way to treat a lady.” a familiar voice came down the hallway.

“Sir Vylric.” the guard looked away from Forrest to greet the silver haired fae they met in the perfumery district.

“You!” Cosette exclaimed.

“You remember me.” the male’s expression brightened, “I am honored.”

“Sir Vylric you are confused.” the guard sneered, “This one here is not a noble, and therefore not a Lady. I shall treat her as I would any sneaky pest.”

“Ah, but one should be gentle with females.” the silver haired fae’s smile didn’t abade, “Perhaps you should reconsider your manners. They could be the reason you’re still without a partner.”

The guard growled again, his hand only tightening.

Can we not aggravate the man who is about to crush my bones!?

“Now, release Miss Cosette.” Vylric commanded.

The guard relented with clear displeasure, releasing Cosette’s arm, resuming his patrol route. 

“Stupid female…making me upset…hate this job.” the male muttered as he walked away.

Cosette rubbed her arm.

That was going to leave a bruise.

“Are you alright?” Vylric stood before her, his long silver hair in a ponytail.

“Yes I am fine. Thank you for the help.” Cosette said. 

Forrest returned to his more calm, quiet demeanor, as Ophelia glanced between Vylric and Cosette with narrowed eyes.

“Let me take a look.”

“No need.” Cosette pulled away, “As I said, I am fine.”

“Alright.” the male seemed to catch the hint, 

Cosette paused, “Wait, how did you know my name?”

The fae’s laugh was smooth, “Oh, it would be harder to find a fellow perfumer in Winter Court that doesn’t know your name Miss Cosette.”

Looking closer she could see that his ears, although pointed, were slightly fluffy on the edges, and his eyes looked more like that of an arctic fox.

So was this one Lesser Fae? Did Lesser Fae have hierarchies amongst themselves? Considering how he had just ordered that fae to release her, was that just the guard respecting a social hierarchy or something more innate?

“What are you doing here, Sir Vylric?” Cosette took a step back to stand beside Ophelia.

“Oh I came to inquire about a shipment of ingredients I was supposed to receive.” the perfumer explained, “I assume they haven’t gotten around to it with the Winter Solstice so I wanted to check in.”

Cosette nodded.

Did this company sell foods and oils? Strange that they would need to store stuff at Theo’s place considering the size of this building. 

“What about you miss Cosette? Why are you here?”

“A friend of ours needed to pay off a debt. We’re here as moral support.”

“I see, that’s quite honorable of you.”

“It’s no trouble.”

I am pretty sure that’s basic decency but whatever.

“No, really. Not many fae would go out of their way to help out a fellow individual like this.” Vylric took off the fur cloak he had been wearing, revealing the deep blue suit underneath.

Guess that’s what differentiates the two of us.

The door at the end of the hallway opened, and Theo stepped out, followed by Korvyn.

“As I promised, only ten minutes.” the dark haired fae said, patting Theo’s head.

Theo quickly moved away, rejoining the group.

“Sir Vylric, you’ve arrived early.” Korvyn said.

“Yes, well, I didn’t want to be late.” Vylric responded, giving Cosette a small bow, “I am afraid I have to go now Miss Cosette.”

“Have a good meeting sir Vylric.”

“Perhaps I’ll see you again?”

“Perhaps.”

I kind of hope not.

Vylric gave the rest of the group an acknowledging nod, joining Korvyn in the office’s door frame.

Seeing the two males standing side by side, Cosette had to admit; business folk in Winter Court knew how to dress well.

“Follow me.” the buff fae from earlier approached the group, showing the way out of the industrial building.

Cosette did not glance back, the sweet smell fading the further they walked.

The moment they were outside, and walked a few blocks down the street, Forrest, Ophelia and Cosette turned to Theo.

“Are you alright?” Cosette asked.

“Did he hurt you?” Ophelia 

Forrest merely crossed his arms.

Always the silent giant.

“Oh, no I am okay.” Theo smiled, back to his cheerful self, “I was really worried at first, but it turned out he just wanted to ask about how my life has been.”

“That’s all?” Ophelia raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, he was just curious about what I’ve been up to and how working at the perfumery was like.”

“He didn’t ask you to make any more deals?” Forrest raised an eyebrow.

“No, surprisingly. I was ready to reject him the moment he’d try to offer but he never did.” Theo sighed with relief, “I am just glad it’s over with.”

“All's well that ends well.” Cosette noted.

Ophelia gently bonked Cosette’s head.

“Ow!”

“What were you thinking? All we had to do was sit and wait, and you decided to go sneaking around?” Ophelia’s voice was less angry and more concerned.

Forrest hummed in support.

“Sorry.” Cosette mumbled, “I didn’t mean to get us into trouble…I was just curious.”

“Curiosity is great Cosette, but not in this kind of situation.”

“You’re right, I am sorry.” Cosette said, “I didn’t mean to put us in danger.”

Ophelia sighed, hugging her, “I know, just be careful okay?”

Cosette hugged back, alleviating some of Ophelia's anger.

The group resumed their walk, the streets still mostly empty of faes aside from the royal guard.

“That bastard, acting like a knight in shining armor.” Ophelia fumed.

“Sir Vylric?”

“Do not put ‘sir’ before his name, he doesn’t deserve that respect!”

“Okay, are we hating him because his perfumes suck, or is there any other reason?”

“When I went to get a table for the Winter Solstice they gave it to him with no issues. I bet that Korvyn guy or whatever is his supporter in the social circles. Such nepotism.”

“I see. A bastard indeed.” Cosette took Ophelia’s hand, wishing her friend to not be angry over some random guy.

Although, the fact that people from such a suspicious place held even that much power was disturbing.

The group walked back to the capital’s center rings chatting about much more light hearted topics. Cosette could now actually walk down the street as brightly colored carriages filled the roads, clearing and patting down the snow.

“I thought this was supposed to be the day of rest. Why are there so many fae out on the streets?”

“It’s not any fae Cosette, it’s the High Fae. They’re returning home from the Winter Solstice gathering our rulers held this year.” Forrest corrected, “That's why there's more of the royal guard out on the streets than normal.”

I hadn't noticed, but Forrest was right. The royal guard were much more spread out than before.

“Would they not just winnow home?”

“Some do.” Forrest grunted.

“They just want to show off their wealth.” Ophelia interrupted, pointing to one of the prettier carriages, “I mean, I don’t blame them. If I had a carriage like that I’d also make use of it.”

“Careful.” Forrest gave Ophelia a stern look.

Ophelia was right though, the processions were beautiful.

Cosette could see faeries watching through their windows the long caravan line making its way out of the city. She paused, watching a beautiful golden carriage, with a sun on its door, pass by her, followed by similarly styled ones. 

Recognizing the symbol of Day Court from the text she had been reading earlier Cosette looked at the window of the carriage - curious. Unfortunately, it was covered with curtains.

Guess it was too true to get to see Helion that easily.

Nearing their perfumery Forrest said, “I will leave you three here.”

“Going home Forrest?” Cosette asked.

“Yes.”

Cosette nodded, “Have a good day.”

“You as well, don’t overexert yourselves. Any of you.” Forrest turned, and walked in the direction of the inn.

Cosette unlocked the door to the perfumery, Theo and Ophelia filing in behind her.

The royal guards were practically crawling on top of the perfumery.

Cosette wasn't going to complain about the extra security.

“I will be upstairs working, feel free to do whatever you want.” Cosette took off her cloak, turning to Ophelia and Theo.

“I am going to carve some trinkets.” Theo smiled dreamily, “I haven’t gotten to work on wood for fun in so long…”

“I’ll organize the mezzanine.” Ophelia said, following Cosette upstairs, “We cleaned off most of the dust, but there’s a bunch of trash and stuff laying around. I’ll sort through to pick out what’s important and what’s not.”

“Are you sure? You can take a break if you want.”

“I want to do it. Besides, I am going to take an early lunch break and go grab some of those delicious little polar bear cookies you got me before.” 

“Have fun with that.”

“I will!”

Cosette and Ophelia parted at the top of the stairs with Cosette stepping inside her office, and hanging up her cloak on a hook. She set the teapot and once the tea had been steeped, poured herself a cup. 

Cosette sat down in her chair, getting comfortable, staring at the papers and books before her. She had finalized the designs for the new farming tool; a wooden structure akin to a box, with a small door and holes for windows that made it look more like a house. There were runes along the sides of the structure, with a large wooden pole attaching to the top of it.

Now, where do I produce this?

Cosette couldn’t have Theo build it here. There just wasn’t enough room to have a woodworking shop and a perfumery in the same backspace. They would be at each other's throats in minutes of trying to coexist. She had to find a different space as the home for this project.

Purchasing another building would be difficult right now. Maybe I should rent instead? 

Cosette pulled out some additional papers where she had written various available locations with buildings, crossing out the industrial complex.

Based on that visit, I don’t want to rent or go anywhere near that area again.

Her eyes scanned the rest of the list.

I’ll need to visit these spots later to see if they work. It would be good to be able to have a building near the gates to the capital as it would make transporting the equipment out of the city to farms easier.

“Cosette!” Ophelia suddenly burst into her office, eyes wide.

“Ophelia? Wha-”

“The High Lord and Lady of Winter are here.”

Cosette’s jaw dropped open.

“Here?”

“Here!”

“Right now?”

“Yes now! They’re asking to meet with you!” Cosette quickly matched Ophelia’s panic.

“Why? Why do they want to see me?”

“I don’t know, but I left Theo alone with them to go get you, so can you please come downstairs. They’ll eat the poor man alive!”

Cosette got up, her legs shaking.

Why were they here? Were they angry? Did she do something? 

Her face paled.

What if Beron sent out a notice about an escaped human and fae convict? What if they were coming to take them back?

Cosette took a deep breath. Ophelia nervously rushed back and forth in the room, scrambling to make it look presentable.

Stop. Do not panic.

Cosette joined Ophelia in her scrambling, shoving her farming tool designs and the book she received from the strange fae into a desk drawer.

You need to focus. 

Ophelia ran over to Cosette, holding her still as she quickly double checked her hair and dress, nodding in semi-approval.

“Good enough.” Ophelia muttered, standing back.

Cosette opened the office door with shaking hands and stepped out. She hesitantly peeked over the rails of the mezzanine to see downstairs.

Holy shit.

There they were; the High Lord and Lady of Winter, Kallias and Viviane. The white haired male with an ice crown on his head glanced up, making eye contact.

Cosette forced a whimper down, the male’s presence reminding her of Beron. She carefully stepped down the steps, doing her best to not trip. Theo looked relieved as Cosette approached, partially hiding behind her.

Kallias and Viviane looked at Cosette.

Why weren’t they saying anythi-Oh shit I am supposed to bow.

Cosette quickly bowed, “Greetings High Lord of Winter and Lady.” she glanced up at them.

Going based off of Autumn Court’s etiquette I should wait to be dismissed. I don’t know if it's the same in Winter but I’d rather be safe than dead.

Seeing her hesitance, Kallias waved an arm dismissively, “Please rise.”

“So, you’re Miss Cosette, correct?” Viviane spoke up, smiling.

“Yes.” Cosette was so happy these people didn’t know her as she was certain her voice had gotten pitched higher by three cords.

“Your perfumes are amazing.” a black haired girl interjected, approaching Cosette, “I am Briar, nice to meet you!”

“It’s an honor to meet you too, Lady Briar. I am happy that my perfumes are to your liking.”

I was so focused on Kallias and Viviane I didn’t even notice her. 

“Oh no, no need for Lady.” Briar waved her hands, “How could they not be? They’re absolutely enchanting!”

Cosette nodded hesitantly, glancing back at the two rulers who were watching her every move. Aquilo meanwhile, who was also in attendance, kept glancing at Ophelia, who stood slightly behind Cosette, her expression rigid.

“We apologize that we haven’t met you sooner, but we were unfortunately busy with the preparation for the Winter Solstice.” Kallias spoke up first.

“Oh, of course, I understand.” Cosette said.

“Normally we wouldn’t disturb you on the day of rest but…” Kallias paused, thinking of the right word to say, “You could say our curiosity got the better of us.”

Please satiate your curiosity and leave.

“Well, I hope I can help answer any questions you might have.” Cosette maintained her smile.

“I actually have a question.” Viviane picked up one of the bottles of perfumes, pointing to its back, “You write out all the ingredients used. Why?”

“We do so because I believe our customers have the right to know what is in their products. Also, it’s done so that faeries with allergies know if a product is suitable for them.”

Viviane nodded approvingly, “Not many business owners are this open about what they put into their produce, are you not worried someone may try to steal your recipes?”

“Well, I don’t write out the exact concentrations, nor do I describe how we produce the perfumes. At times the latter matters more than the ingredients themselves.” Cosette relaxed a bit.

“Do you make alcohol based perfumes?” Briar asked, “I didn’t see any and I’ve been here so many times.”

“None at the moment, but I plan on creating some in the near future.” Cosette was trying to remember if she had seen Briar in the store at any point. She glanced at Ophelia who wore a slightly guilty expression.

“Is there a difference between alcohol and non-alcohol based perfumes?” Kallias spoke up.

“There is. Alcohol-free perfumes last longer than alcohol-based ones due to the alcohol’s evaporation rate. Another issue is bacterial growth. Alcohol-free perfumes are based in water or oils, with mine being oil based, which means bacteria can easily fester and develop. For alcohol-based perfumes this isn’t really an issue as the high concentration of alcohol prevents bacteria from growing.”

I am sticking to oils as the amount of bacterias that can grow there is technically smaller, until I come up with a way to create a preservative to add to water to prevent bacterial growth.

“This is the reason why we have an expiration date and a small instruction manual on the bottle for where to keep it to minimize growth.” Cosette continued, “We also have a return policy; if the perfume has bacteria growing in it within the month of purchase then we replace it free of charge.”

It’s a slight benefit that most bacteria thrive at human body temperature, making the cold climate a limiting factor in what types of pathogens will try to grow.

“Are there any other benefits to alcohol based perfumes?” Viviane put down the bottle.

Are you all just really interested in perfume or is this something else?

“Making perfumes with alcohol is easier and cheaper.” 

“Then why didn’t you make them using alcohol?” Kallias tilted his head.

“Alcohol has a very particular scent, and it can often be stronger than the actual scent of the perfume” Cosette paused, thinking how to put what she wanted to say nicely, “Winter Court already has a diverse selection of strong scents so I wanted to provide something more gentle and soft before experimenting with alcohol.”

Since I have the public’s attention, I can now show them that alcohol-based perfumes can be done right. It would be great if I could make a perfume line that smelled good, yet was more affordable.

Kallias and Viviane nodded, thinking over what she just said. Briar’s eyes sparkled, hanging on to every word.

Can I ask them why they're here, or would that be considered rude?

Deciding to not tempt fate Cosette widened her smile, “Would you like some tea?”

“That would be lovely.” Viviane smiled back.

Okay good, correct dialogue option.

Cosette led the group upstairs, Ophelia trailing after them along with Aquilo. Theo remained downstairs with a few of the other guards. Cosette quickly poured them the brew she had made with Ophelia dragging in an additional chair for Briar.

Paying closer attention to the black haired woman, Cosette noticed her rounded-tipped ears.

She was human? 

Cosete wracked her brain to try and remember if any humans lived in any of the Courts.

There was that one human Feyre saved from Hybern soldiers. Pretty sure her name was Briar. Did she move into Winter Court after all that ended? Why didn’t she stay with Feyre?

“Thank you for the tea, it’s quite good. What blend is this?” Viviane asked.

“Oh it’s a black tea I bought from the store to which I added some berries while it steeped.”

Kallias sipped the tea, “I hope your Winter Solstice went well.”

“Thank you, it was a lot of fun. I hope your Winter Solstice was good as well, Your Majesty.”

“I heard you managed to get a table ”

“I actually didn’t do that. Ophelia did.”

Kallias turned to look at the Lesser Fae. Ophelia gazed at the floor respectfully.

Is she this calm due to years of serving the Lady of Autumn?

“You are the one who got the table?”

“Yes High Lord, although I didn’t get a table, I merely got us space.”

“That’s impressive.” Aquilo spoke softly.

“Thank you.” Ophelia shifted, a bit unprepared for all the attention.

“What do you mean by 'you got a space’?” Kallias frowned.

Ophelia chose her words carefully, not wanting to get into the details of the system’s abuse, “The public events office were impressed by our results from the past couple months, so we managed to work out an agreement.”

Kallias nodded. If the male had more questions he didn’t prod.

“I wish I could have gone.” Briar pouted slightly, “I heard you guys had a new perfume!”

“Ah yes, I released a goldenberry scent.” Cosette said, “I hope to get it onto store shelves during this week.”

“On the topic of perfumes.” Kallias said, his icy blue eyes looking into Cosette’s green ones, “We would like to order custom made perfumes.”

“Oh, of course!” Cosette wanted to cry as she rummaged through one of the drawers. With all their scrambling the beautiful note taking forms for custom orders she had made were now buried beneath loads of paperwork.

Cosette let out a nervous laugh as the royal trio stared at her trying to find paper. 

I swear I am more organized than this.

Finally finding several copies of the document she laid them out on the table so everyone could see.

“Okay, do either of you have any allergies?”

Kallias shook his head. 

“I don’t have any, but I would prefer an oil based perfume.” Viviane said.

“Can do. Do you have an idea of what kind of fragrance you want?”

“I’d want something sweet yet refreshing.”

Kallias watched his wife take the lead in this, a fond smile on his otherwise cold features.

“What about you, High Lord?”

“Could you make something less sweet for me?”

Cosette took note of their requests, “Are there any scents you two enjoy?”

“I love the smell of flowers.” Viviane said, “Especially ones that have an underlying allure to them. They’re not just sweet but there’s something more to it.”

“I am partial to the smell of forests. Think pine trees and burning wood.”

Viviane smiled, “Love, that’s the traditional answer. Don’t you want to experiment a bit?”

“Your response was flowers Viv. I don’t think you can judge me.” Kallias leaned in, brushing some hair out of Viviane’s face.

Thank all the deities that I cannot smell arousal as a human.

Cosette looked at Briar, trying to ignore the sexual tension, “Would you like one as well?”

“Oh um.” Briar looked at Viviane who nodded, “Yes, I would love one!”

“Do you have any preferences for a scent?”

I am curious how old Briar is, she seems close to me in age.

“Surprise me!”

“Ah.” Cosette was hoping she would be given some direction, “Could you give me a small hint? Perhaps your favorite foods?”

“Hmm.” Briar hummed, the gears turning in her head as she came up with a master scheme, “How about instead you get to know me and make a perfume that best fits me then!”

I was worried you would say something like that.

“Sure.” Cosette agreed, “I will try my best, but please correct the sample if it’s not up to your standard.”

“Deal!” Briar grinned.

Why are you so happy? Do you want to see me suffer?

Cosette tapped her fingers against the table awkwardly, the High Lord and Lady watching her.

“Do you have any ideas for future perfumes?” Briar spoke up again.

“Well, I was thinking of making some more refreshing or neutral scents as most of the items we carry at the moment are more delicate and sweet.”

“What about projects unrelated to perfume?” Kallias sipped his tea.

Cosette shivered. The High Fae power that she had sensed earlier today directed at her and her friends was present once more, but stronger. Yet, it wasn’t attacking. It was just there. Like a trigger that the male before her could pull at any moment if he chose to.

It makes me want to crawl under this table.

Viviane cast her mate a look that Cosette was too nervous to notice.

“I am currently working on a farming project.”

“Farming?” Viviane’s expression turned to one of surprise, “I didn’t think you had such expansive interests.”

Neither did I. 

“The subject intrigued me simply by chance.”

And the fact that Blanche and Forrest can’t afford their child damn apple juice, and food prices only keep rising.

“What exactly does the project pertain to?” Kallias’s eyes narrowed.

Do I tell them? I guess it wouldn’t hurt. Though I have no proper proof that my idea works.

Cosette took a deep breath, “It relates to the decreasing harvest in Winter Court farms. My project hopes to remedy that by creating a tool that makes it easier to keep track of and extract crops once they grow, as well as facilitate a healthy relationship between the crops and the spirits that provide blessings.”

The High Lord and Lady stared at her with unreadable expressions.

“I don’t have any proper proof that the tool would work yet. All I have are designs that still need to be created.”

“May we see these designs?”

Cosette hesitantly took out the folder filled with papers of drawings and schematics. 

“Wow, it’s like a little house.” Briar looked over Kallias’s shoulder who was scrutinizing the paper before him.

“This is quite impressive.” Viviane said, her tone softer than before, “We hadn’t even considered adjusting farming methods so drastically.”

“They’ve served us well all this time.” Kallias noted, “However, how will you convince spirits to enter this? They can be quite picky.”

“Well, the tool is designed to look somewhat like a house or a space they might find offerings in, like a secluded area of a home or a tree hollow. Right here I plan to include runes that will help the spirit enter and leave, as well as allow the device to identify if a blessing has been cast. Once the crop receives a spirit’s blessing, the offering, contained in this small box, will become available. The major change this offers for the spirits is that they don’t have to wait months for their reward.”

“I see, so they get their payment upfront.” Viviane said.

“So you know of runes as well?” Kallias gave his mate some of the papers she wanted to take a closer look at.

“Well actually I had a consultant regarding the magic of this. I merely came up with the idea and the physical design. Even there I got input from someone who knows much more about spirits than I do.”

“Who was this consultant?” Viviane inquired.

“They have a shop in the col-upper districts.”

Probably shouldn’t use slang to describe the neighborhood most of their supporters come from.

Kallias scratched his chin as he flipped through the papers, analyzing them in great detail, “Is it by chance the fae who runs the ‘All Things Magic and Mystic’ shop?”

“Yes.” Cosette squeaked, praying that the woman wasn’t on ten wanted lists and that she wasn’t about to be thrown into jail as some sort of accomplice.

“I’ve met her, she’s good at her craft even if she herself is a strange female.” Kallias said, “I am glad you went to her and not someone else.”

“Oh?”

“She has a good understanding of what’s good for this court. That fae is wise in whom she chooses to support.” Kallias set the papers down.

“Oh.”

“You must have captured her interest if she decided to entertain your audience.” Viviane’s knowing eyes didn’t match her polite smile.

I really kind of wish I stopped capturing people’s attention right about now. It’s not doing anything good for my nerves.

“I thought she took on any client as long as they had money.”

“She’s turned away from the wealthiest of families.”

“Not you though?” Cosette decided to try and prod, making Ophelia cringe slightly.

Kallias and Viviane didn’t take offense though. Viviane’s smile widened while Kallia’s lips twitched as if he was holding back a laugh.

“No, not us. Consider it a perk of being this court’s ruler.” Kallias said.

“I see.”

There is clearly more to that fae than they were explaining.

Cosette wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the full truth though.

Suddenly, a Winter Court soldier walked into the office, and whispered something to Aquilo.

“High Lord, my presence is required outside. May I leave a replacement?” Aquilo said.

“Of course, we’ll be fine here.” Kallias dismissed Aquilo who left the office, the soldier remaining instead.

Weird.

“You said you don’t have a prototype of this yet?” Viviane resumed the conversation.

“No, I don’t. I am thinking of how to produce it at the moment.”

Kallias and Viviane exchanged a look.

“What are your current ideas?” Kallias leaned back in his chair.

Ugh what was with this questioning?

“Well, I was considering working on this in the industrial district but on further investigation I have decided against it. I will most likely rent out a space in a building and have it be constructed there.”

“Do you have fae who can actually create the tool?” Viviane perked up.

“Yes, I do.”

“So you have already thought of the workforce even.” Kallias muttered.

Silence fell over the room again, with Briar glancing between the two rulers and Cosette. Ophelia refilled everyone’s tea cups.

Cosette jumped slightly as Kallias stood up.

“I think it’s time we head home, we’ve already taken up much of your time.”

Cosette stood up as well, bowing, “No, no, you both have honored us with your presence here today.”

Also absolutely terrified, but we’ll ignore that one for now.

Kallias nodded, with the group walking downstairs. Briar looked upset but didn’t say anything, trailing after Viviane. Aquilo was back in the shop, standing by the front door.

“Is all well?” Viviane looked at Aquilo.

“Of course Lady Viviane.” Aquilo straightened his back, “All is well.”

“Good.” Kallias spoke, turning back to the trio, “Please have a good rest of your day.”

“You as well. Thank you for visiting us.” Cosette bowed as the royal entourage exited the perfumery.

Cosette exhaled once the door was closed and the white haired High Fae were out of sight.

“Well then tha-To the Mother! Cosette!” Ophelia grabbed Cosette as the woman’s knees gave out. 

Theo let out a panicked cry, rushing over as well.

“Cosette, stay with me!” Ophelia tried to keep her upright, “Don’t go into the light!”

Cosette, meanwhile, was really wishing this world had teriyaki chicken, so she could have it as her last meal.

Next: Chapter 22 - A Very Polite Non-political Conversation

Back: Chapter 20 - A Party for Old Friends

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[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Meet me where the cliff greets the Sea (part 2)

Elendil x reader

Title inspired by a verse of Elan by Nightwish. NSFW!!

This part is dedicated to the amazing @montyc. Words cannot express how grateful I am!!!

*****

You have taken off your cape, but the wait at the farthest corner of the area reserved to the slaves merchants is still unpleasant, even though the heat is the least of your worries; the anxiety is eating you alive, and every minute you are forced to wait feels like a month. You have paid, the slip of parchment to certify your purchase tight in your fist, and you are reasonably sure the smiling man -this is what you are calling him in your mind; you have no idea of his real name, nor you want to know it- will keep his word to tell no one about the presence of a couple of Númenoreans within the borders of a kingdom that has more reason to hate your people than anyone else... but all the same, you cannot wait to set sail and leave Draiwen behind you... 

... and even more, to have your husband back.

Seeing you idle, standing there and doing nothing, a couple of other merchants approach to show you their wares, but you gently decline, since the last thing you would be able to focus on is the cloth for a new dress, the very same colour as your eyes, mistress!, or a pair of earrings. Where is he?, you wonder as you resist the impulse of biting your nails, a girlhood habit you thought you had left behind you, why is he taking so long? The smiling man only had to have him dressed, and the enclosure is no more than twenty fathoms away; has he changed his mind, deciding that now that he has taken you coin, the best thing to do would be to call for the city guards and earn a reward out of your and Elendil’s imprisonment? It will only be safe to cry victory once you are both back in Númenor, safe at home with your people, but you are so tired, completely exhausted, after six months of fearing and crying and searching, and you have never felt more in danger than now that you are so close to what you have desperately longed for, like a starving man that is allowed to smell a delicious dish and then sees it snatched away from him...

You wait. And you wait some more, while the men of your escort whisper between them, looking at you with undisguised curiosity, which you ignore. And finally, maybe five minutes before you feel ready to burst into tears, you see a small group of men coming towards you; two of the guards of the smiling man... and between them, wearing a tattered tunic and pants that must have belonged to a man much larger than him, is your husband, his ankles and wrists free but with a fresh bruise marring his fair face, maybe a parting gift from his former master. It would be within your rights to complain, since the merchant had no permission to manhandle a slave that he had formally sold already, but, as much as the mere sight fills you with rage, you force yourself to keep silent.

"Mistress." Elendil greets you, bowing his head as is proper for a slave, and there is no need to pretend anymore, since he is now formally yours -he is, you think as your heart fills with a fierce, greedy possessiveness, he has been yours ever since the two of you met, he belongs to you and you will never let him go- and truth to be told, the mere thought of you as a slave-owner makes you more than a little uncomfortable, but that little farce you are playing appears to amuse your husband, given the small smile hidden in the curve of his lips. 

You quickly, and brusquely, dismiss the guards, and then, not caring about what the men escorting you will think, you slip your arm under Elendil’s, just like when you walk together in the streets of Armenelos, or along the shoreline of your favourite beach; you are finally touching him, solid and strong and real, for the first time in six months, and the relief you feel is so intense it makes your knees weak.

“Do not cry, please.” Elendil’s deep, musical voice brushes against your cheek, and you had already spoken, while in the enclosure in front of the smiling man, but this is different, this is personal and intimate and it feels like a cup of cold water after the worst thirst of your life; he is barely able to keep his composure, his deep blue eyes full of bittersweet joy, relief and pain meshed in one “Do not cry, my love; I am here, and I swear I will never leave your side again.”

“I will remind you of this promise, husband.” you tell him, mock-serious to hide the emotion in your heart; you hate crying, especially in public... even when it is tears of joy you are shedding “Now, let us go.”

You do not talk anymore as you hurry in the direction to reach the harbour; Elendil looks straight ahead, as if determined to leave the memories of the last six months behind him together with the marketplace, and his grip on your arm is firmer than usual, both possessive and scared, and when you rest your free hand on his, silently attempting to comfort and reassure him, your husband looks at you, almost not daring to think he is finally safe.

“I will bring you home.” you whisper; Eru preserve you, you would be ready to set the whole city on fire if it meant making sure he is safe “I promise, Elendil. It is over; you can rest now.”

A nod is the only answer you receive, and when you reach the ship he -an army officer, a Sea Guard captain, a nobleman, a father; a man, in short, for whom assuming leadership and giving orders is almost second nature, as instinctive as breathing- remains silent by your side and lets you take charge. In another moment, that choice that speaks of trust in you and your abilities, would have made you proud; now, instead, it is pain and compassion that fill your heart, and a surge of protectiveness you had not felt ever since your children were small.

The ship captain is playing dice on a table with two of his crewmembers, apparently winning given the displeased expressions of the others. When he sees your little group approach he stands to meet you, and he looks at you, and Elendil, and the way you cling to each other; he asks no questions, however, because the situation is clear enough, or perhaps simply because he does not care.

“May I dismiss your escort, mistress?”

“You may, captain; my thanks for lending them to me.” you answer, and the two men who accompanied you quickly move to join their friends at the game table “We will have to depart immediately.”

The man’s face clouds. “Immediately? That is not possible.”

“I paid for you to bring me to Draiwen and then back home.”

“And I will, I have given you my word. But we worked tirelessly to take you to your destination in the shortest time possible, and I expect you will want an equally fast trip on the way back. My men deserve a night of rest; worse, they will demand it, and I will have a mutiny at my hands.”

He is serious, determined, not to mention much bigger than you, but while you feel Elendil stiffen at your side, you remain calm, betraying none of the turmoil and the impatience that stir in your heart; with your husband by your side, there is nothing you feel unable to face, especially if the obstacle to overcome is a simple man whose weak point you have already identified.

"I am sure a capable captain such as yourself will be able to control his crew and put them to work." you answer, voice devoid of flattery, as you hold his gaze more than he is probably used to when his interlocutor is a woman "And I will pay you double what we agreed if you are able to set sail before sunset; I am sure your men will appreciate it, if you decide to share it. And, please have a bath prepared in my cabin; there is no need to warm the water, but the bigger the tub, the better."

The pressure on your arm softens marginally; you do not look at Elendil, but you perceive his approval, and his sincere merriment, like a sweet caress on your cheek.

Eru, you have missed him so much.

"Are we in agreement, captain?"

A sigh; he is not happy, and he must know his men will not be either, but he is avid enough to decide to take the risk, for a doubled fee.

"We are in agreement, mistress."

*****

You both remain silent as you cross the ship's bridge and go below deck. The sailors, who during the journey have looked at you with ill-concealed curiosity and allusive smiles, snicker behind your back and exchange knowing looks, convinced that you have bought a slave at the market to warm your bed, and that tonight you will put your new property to work. They have no idea about the truth, how could they? But you do not care; let them joke about you, and wonder why you had to cross the Sea to buy a slave to satisfy your needs, instead of looking for what you needed in a whorehouse. Let them wonder whether you have a husband you are betraying, and what your preferences in the alcove are. You do not care; you care about nothing, but the tall, handsome man who keeps glancing at you as you cross the corridor below deck, as if he feared to see you disappear like a dream at dawn.

"It is here." you whisper as you reach the cabin you have been given by the captain, empty but for a bed -small, especially since you will be sharing it with your husband; but squeezing together has never been a problem, or a sacrifice, for the two of you- a single chair, the tiniest, least stable table you have ever seen, and a couple of shelves on the wall; the bag with your belongings is on the floor, next to the only friend who has accompanied you on the expedition: a messenger bird in his cage, his feathers cloud-white, softly cooing. The rolling on the ship is quiet, given the calm Sea that has helped you reach your destination faster than you had hoped; you are used to it, so much you barely notice it anymore. How could you not, since you are the wife of a captain of the Sea Guard?

Elendil does not speak as you push the door open, precede him inside and then close it; you turn, and finally you are face to face, alone, free to abandon whatever pretenses you have had to keep, and you never had to doubt your husband's love and devotion, not even during the occasional falling out or when he was away at Sea for months at a time, but for some reason now you are the one who lacks the courage to touch him... as if you feared to lose him now that you have finally found him.

"Wife." he whispers in the end, and that simple word, the reverent, intimate tone of that voice that has always had the power to make you shiver in such a pleasant way, is the last push that opens the floodgates in your heart. You cannot, nor you want to, resist anymore, be strong anymore, even if you were not alone, and the tears start running along your cheeks before you even realise you are about to cry, and this time Elendil does not ask you not to, knowing that sometimes it is better to simply express the pain, to get it out in order to depure one's body and mind. Wordlessly, he takes you in his arms, and a moment later you are held in the safety of his embrace, his tired, abused and weakened body still a source of peace and comfort, and you hold on to him, like the victim of a shipwreck who clings to a rock in the middle of a storm, and you should be the one to comfort him, not the other way around, but you cannot help it, and the beauty of what you shared is that you are both made stronger by the closeness. He kisses your brow while you hide your face against his shoulder, and the simple sensation of being in his arms, so special and unique, makes you feel free to breathe for the first time in six months.

"You found me." he whispers. He is holding you so tight it hurts, but you do not mind; in fact, you like it "You searched for me, you found me, and you took me away. I should have expected the Sea Guard, or the army... But no. It was you. I knew you would come. I felt it, in my heart."

"You would have done the same for me." you whisper back; Eru, it is so pleasant to feel his heart beat close to yours "That you are a soldier and a mariner and I am not makes no difference. We had promised we would spend the rest of our lives together; worse things than a war and slavery would have to occur before I let you forget your promise, husband."

"Eru preserve me, I must be married to the most overbearing woman in all of Arda..."

He looks at you; he smiles, happy and reassuring. "Are our children well?"

"They are, even though they have missed you as much as I have. They helped me, and spared no effort in searching for you. Isildur and Anarion wished to accompany me, but I did not allow them."

Your husband clearly does not approve, but he does not comment; he knows how dangerous what you did was, and he knows it would be pointless, not to mention hypocrite, to reprimand you. "I am so glad to see you." he murmurs as he hugs you once more; he kisses you again, not on your forehead this time "Let us go home."

The captain, while unhappy with your demands, is able to keep his men in check, perhaps bribing them with the promise of a reward in gold, and when the ship finally sets sail, driven forward by a favorable wind that definitely was not there an hour before, the sun has not yet completely disappeared behind the horizon. You look out of the tiny window of the cabin, and you see the land of Draiwen slipping away behind you; you sigh, suddenly missing your children and picturing how happy they will be when your family will be whole, once more.

Elendil is still too tense to sleep, but he spends a few minutes resting on the bed -much less comfortable than the one you share at home; still, it is a vast improvement from the lodgings he had been forced to in the house of the smiling man- while you retrieve your writing utensils from your bag and write a brief message to your children, announcing that their father is alive and the two of you are already on the way home. You then tie the tiny piece of parchment to the leg of the messenger bird that you have released from his cage, and then let him take flight out of the tiny window; it will take at least a week for the ship to reach Númenor, but if luck assists you your children will receive the message within a day, and they will be able to stop fearing for their father’s health. 

Land is still barely visible on the horizon when two men come carrying the wooden tub and then buckets with the water for the bath you have requested; they work quickly and efficiently, glancing curiously to your husband, who looks back at them, impassible.

“They believe you have bought a slave for your bed.” he realizes once you are alone once more, and you shrug your shoulders, utterly disinterested.

“Now, let us not waste time. The bath is for you; you better get in as soon as possible.”

“Are you saying I smell, wife?” Elendil asks, a light smile on his lips.

“I most certainly do, husband. And fear not, I have everything we need.”

You brought clothes for Elendil from home, tunic and trousers and boots and even his favorite cape, a shade of blue similar to the one of his Sea Guard uniform; during a brief stop on the way to Draiwen, as the captain sent his men to buy provisions, water and other necessities, you purchased soap of good quality,  a razor and even a pair of scissors, knowing your husband, who while not vain is very particular about his appearance, would have appreciated it.

“Sensible woman.” Elendil says with a smile, a moment before starting to undress. He lets out a sigh of relief as he lowers himself in the tub, the cool water pleasant against his skin. He has lost weight, you notice with a surge of grief, and a number of small wounds and bruises mar his fair skin; but the worst is his back, carrying the signs of something that makes you regret you did not use your dagger on the smiling man, while you were in his tent.

You sit on the floor of the cabin next to the tub. “You have been whipped.” you whisper as you brush your fingers against the ugly red gashes -four of them, clearly recent- under his shoulder-blades; Elendil stiffens, as if that simple contact were still painful “Forgive me; it is just... oh, my love, what have they done to you?”

He smiles sadly, as he turns to take your hand and kiss the back. “As the master told you, I attempted to incite the other slaves to rebel; it did not work, and I was punished.” he explains “Worry not, I have suffered worse.”

“That does not comfort me, actually...”

You fall silent as you look at your husband wash dirt, grime and sweat away from his body, the soap diffusing a pleasant aroma in the tiny cabin; he seems content, even happy, because of that simple pleasure, and that brings a smile on your face.

“Let me.” you offer when he is about to wash his hair, and just like at home, Elendil obediently lowers himself in the tub until his head is immersed -which is easier said than done, when one’s legs are as long as his- and then re-emerges, and you, now kneeling behind him, rub the soap between your hands and begin washing his hair with it. 

“Oh... oh, yes.” Elendil groans as he feels your fingertips massaging his scalp, your fingers carding among the long dark locks “This is so nice... Yes, that spot there...”

“Elendil, I have washed your hair ever since we got married, and you still sound... like that.” you observe smiling. 

“I cannot help it if I appreciate your ministrations. It is good that you brought scissors; I have to cut my hair.”

“If you must; I have to admit long hair does become you. You can wash it away now.”

He complies, and then turns to look at you, quickly washing the soap away from your fingers. You hands meet above the rim of the tub; your fingers interwine, the simple, chaste contact filling your heart with comfort.

“What happened to you?” you whisper “I am sorry, I know this is the last thing you want to think about, but...”

“... but you have to know. I understand.”

Your husband sighs. “There is not much to say, if truth be told.” he admits, and he tells you that when Númenor’s army had achieved victory against the people of Draiwen, Elendil, being exhausted but unscathed, had volunteered for the sad task of retrieving the bodies of the fallen, so that even the lowest soldiers could be returned to their loved ones and laid to rest at home. He and a dozen of comrades had ventured to the farthest corner of the battlefield, looking for those among the dead who wore the colours of their homeland and loading them on a cart; almost half a day had passed since the end of the battle and the enemy army had been allowed to withdraw, but the soldiers were still wary, fearing some of the survivors had stayed behind.

They were right. Elendil was helping two of his men lift the body of a soldier from the ground when a group of Draiwenians led by an officer had swooped down on them, swords drawn.   

“The officer was... the brother of the man you bought me from; they had an arrangement, that his brother would make sure to capture one or more men each time he went to war, either seizing them on the battlefield or retrieving the wounded later on, and give them to the merchant in exchange for a sum of gold. He had seen us hiding behind an uprooted chariot, and decided we were exactly what he needed. Two of my men were killed during the confrontation; me and five more were taken captive. Two days later we reached the capital... and we met our new master.”

A wince of pain, more emotional than physical and because of this even more aching, appears on your husband’s face as he remembers his meeting with the smiling man; finding himself face to face with Melkor himself would probably have been less unpleasant. 

From that day on, the men of Númenor had joined the other slaves of the master, living in his house on the outskirts of the capital. Once a fortnight, they were brought to the marketplace to be inspected by potential buyers; a few prominent individuals also visited the master at home, for a private showing. More often, the slaves were lent for a fee to farmers, head-bricklayers or mine owners, the arrangement cheaper than free workers’ wage. The master had power of life and death over them; the guards abused and mistreated them out of simple pleasure every time they could. Two of your husband’s comrades were sold mere days after their capture, and two more in the following months; he never knew what had become of them. The last had been killed in a mining accident, only days past. 

“So you were the only one left.” you sumrise, shaken as you realize how lucky you have been; had the smiling man sold Elendil as it had happened to his friends, you doubt he would have told you how to find his new owner, and your husband could have been lost forever “I am so sorry, I... I did not even think about asking for your comrades, I would have gladly ransomed them as well...”

“I know you would have. Do not blame yourself, I am afraid they are lost forever.”

Your husband sighs; tiny drops of water run along his naked body, a sight you would normally find alluring, but right now you cannot help thinking how fragile he looks, and wonder how long it will take him to leave that nightmare behind. “I think he liked me; the master. He found me... interesting, in some way, but that did not make my life easier; quite the opposite. I think he had... challenged himself to find a way to break my spirit; hunger, torture, isolation...”

“Oh, Elendil...”

“I do not deserve to complain, and you should not either. I am still alive; so many cannot say the same.” 

He smiles, his blue eyes full of sadness and courage. “I never lost hope; I felt, even when pain and loneliness and hopelessness were about to overwhelm me... I felt that one day, somehow, I would see you again.” he confides “That is why I tried so hard to escape, because I knew that was not the end. And then I saw you; I felt the same as when I was a child and I woke up screaming from a nightmare, and my mother would come and take me in her arms; the same relief. I felt... safe.”

How many men would be capable, let alone willing, to utter those words? To betray not an ounce of regret and embarassment at being saved by a woman, and not simply because anything is better than slavery? Not many, surely, even in an enlightened society like Númenor; but Elendil is different, Elendil has never seen you as anything but his equal, in the intimacy of your relationship and in the open. He never took a decision before consulting you; he never asked you for something he would not give himself. He trusts you, your lord husband, and he thinks highly of you, not only as a lover and an homemaker, but also as the other part of him... a part he can entrust his heart, his possessions, and his very life to, knowing they would be kept safe. You would have not accepted his proposal otherwise, no matter how desperately in love you were with him and even though many women are content with less... and today, finally, you have shown him; you proved that he was right in trusting you.

“There is nothing I would not have done to find you and set you free.” you murmur; you can see he is getting cold, since the water was not warm to begin with, but even though he knows already you want him to hear that... to hear that no one, not even Eru himself, would have kept you away “No danger, no humiliation; I would have gladly sold my body to take you home; I would have died, and killed, to make sure you were safe.”

“I would not have asked you that.”

“But you would have done it, had our places be exchanged; or am I mistaken? And because of this, how could I not do everything within my power and more?”

If there is any fault in that reasoning your husband cannot find it, because he smiles, this time out of pure happiness. “How beautiful you are.” he says as he lifts your chin with his fingers, and you smile, as flattered as the first time you heard him utter those words, and then you close your eyes, because your husband is kissing you, and that deserves your full attention and participation.

You are shivering.

“Dress yourself, now.” you urge him then, as you stand and hand him a towel, another thing you brought with you from home “I will go find us something to eat.”

*****

The fare on the ship is not exactly what you would eat during a banquet at the palace, but the food on the pewter dishes you have collected from the galley is edible all the same; you have gotten used to it during the voyage to Draiwen, while Elendil had even worse during his captivity... and on a few of the ships he served on. Unhurriedly you eat, you sitting on the chair and he on the bed in front of you, sharing a jug of horrible wine and smiling at each other above the food, your feet touching under the tiny table.

"This reminds me of when we were courting." your husband mentions after a while, his voice full of affection "When we could not share a meal unless we were chaperoned by our parents, and the most we could do was look at each other and hold hands under the table."

"It was for our own good; to preserve the good name of our families. Had I gotten pregnant then, it would have been the end of all our dreams."

Elendil's large shoulders shrug, the perfect image of carefreeness. "We would have managed; it was already in our plans, to marry and raise a family. It would have simply happened a little earlier than we imagined."

You smile at the thought; it was frustrating back then, being unable to spend even just a few minutes with your beloved without the presence of one of your parents, but that only made being finally alone, in your home, more special... a goal you had reached together, out of your own free choice and not because there was a new life growing in your belly.

"My mother would have killed me. And my father would have killed you."

Elendil looks at you, feigning outrage. "But they adored me...!"

You share a grin, and return eating, and a few minutes later you are pushing the table with the tableware at the other side of the cabin, you both slip off your boots, and you reach your husband on the bed.

He happily welcomes you in his arms, lowering the both of you on the hard mattress as your bodies find each other, as they instinctively have done ever since your first hug, with ease and urge at the same time, the different shape of your flesh and his moulding against each other, so tight you can no longer discern where you end and he begins. Elendil's warm, solid body is a rock, an armor and a roaring fire all in one, and you contentedly snuggle against him as you let yourself be lulled by his heartbeat.

Not lulled to sleep, clearly; you had intentions for tonight, intentions that include a lack of clothes, and your husband's heavy and warm body above yours.

"How much did you have to pay to ransom me?" Elendil asks, his finger lazily drawing letters and shapes on the skin of your belly.

"Uhm... Not much. Less than I was willing to, surely."

"Really?" your husband asks, skepticism clear in his voice, and you smile as you twist a lock of his dark hair around your fingers; he looks very handsome with a longer mane, you must admit "Would you be relieved, or disgruntled? To know that the merchant did not ask for much."

He shrugs. "I was curious, that is all."

"It was an average price for a slave, I think. I do not know how we will feed ourselves, and our children, for the rest of the year, of course, but that is not important... I am jesting! Merely jesting, Elendil, do not worry." you laugh as you look at the dismayed grimace on his fair face "If you really want to know, I paid eighty gold pieces; reasonable enough, I think, from the little I know on the topic. Now, why do you not stop talking, and show me how happy you are to see me, as it is proper?"

He obeys, turning on the bed until you are laying under him, your fingers still hidden in his hair as his breath brushes against your cheek; he remains like that for a moment, his mouth an inch from yours as if he wanted to savour that moment, and

"Elendil, please." you whine, like you had not done perhaps since Isildur was born; your heart beats furiously, out of anticipation and simple, pure need, and you are certain that if you do not kiss him now, and soundly, something terrible will happen... You could be interrupted, for example. "Husband, please, I need you..."

He needs you as well, he needs you now like he has never needed you before, and it does not matter if every noise you make, every moan or stifled cry, will be heard and correctly interpreted by the crew. Let them hear, let them joke, let them be envious - he is fine with it; he and his beloved wife are together once more, and nothing else on all Arda matters.

Part of Elendil is tempted to rush, to get you both out of your clothes so that he can finally slip between your thighs, but no; this is not what you deserve, and while you have the whole night -and the many days to come, since it will take a while to reach Númenor- at your disposal, he wants to savour every second, and every moan and sigh escaping from your pretty lips, to make sure he deserves your love and devotion.

He lowers himself on you slowly, feeling you stop breathing for a moment, such is the anticipation of that simple touch you have experienced so many times after the first, sitting on a rock on one of Armenelos' many beaches, the sun warm on your skin and your chapped lips sweet against his. Since then it has never lost meaning, no matter how lazy or chaste those kisses where, and those you will exchange now will be neither of those things, Elendil has promised himself.

You immediately kiss him back, the tiny moan of pleasure eliciting a grin out of him; he peppers your face with kisses, your cheek and forehead and even your nose, and now you are the one laughing. "You are such a child." you gently reprimand him, and Elendil grins, propping himself on an arm next to your face, and then he kisses you once more, and no one is laughing anymore.

Your mouth is warm as Elendil takes possession of it, and his tongue finds yours, your whole body surging to press against his, your warm flesh and the delicious curves he has caressed and molded under his hands so many times making him groan. "Woman, you do not know what you do to me..."

"I want you, Elendil." you whisper back; you have already, completely lost control, so pure and open in your desire, and the beauty of you simply lying there, trusting and devoted and simply blissfully happy to be together once more, breaks his heart “I want you so much, my husband... please... I need to feel you...”

He happily complies, kissing you once more and easily parting your lips to deepen the contact; you both moan, breathless, when your tongue meet, and your body is almost writhing against his, desperately searching for a deeper contact, for any form of friction, for any source of relief against the need that is roaring inside you. You will have it; you will have all of him, you will have so much you will fear you will die of it, but you will be satisfied, and those six months you have spent apart will feel as a bad dream you have left behind.

“I love you.” he murmurs; you know already, and he knows those feelings are reciprocated, but the exhilaration of uttering those simple words never ceases to make his heart tremble... it feels like flying “I love you so much, wife...”

Your eyes are shining; you have never been more beautiful, and perfect, and radiant. “I love you too, my lord husband; I am yours, do what... oh... oh, Elendil...!”

That last moan -almost a cry, in reality, barely stifled by a hand pressed to your mouth; Elendil grins, promising to himself he will make you scream, unrestrained and so loud the whole ship will hear you, before the night is over- is due to his mouth moving from yours to your neck. There is a tiny point on the side of your throat that always makes stars explode behind your eyelids, and Elendil takes advantage of it; he mercilessly sucks on the tender flesh, eliciting sounds you would be normally be so embarassed of uttering, and he feels your heart pounding as he licks on your pulse, the lascivious contact leaving goosebumps on the flesh of both.

You are now cradling his head in your hands, your fingers playing with the hair he might decide not to cut, at least for a while, and he feels your laugh in your chest when he moves once more to press his mouth against the delicate flesh of your bosom. 

“Hmmm, here is a part of you I have sorely missed...”

“Oh, you are horrible...!”

There is something akin to devotion in the way he kisses your breasts, soft and warm, and you appear to appreciate it, because you make quick work of the knots on the front of your dress, slipping the cloth off your shoulders to bare your chest. 

“Oh, yes... oh, Eru, yes, Elendil, just like that...” you sigh; you are pressing your hips against his, hard enough to make him feel how wet you are “Do not stop, my love, do not stop...”

He has no intention to, and he makes it clear when he makes sure you are looking at him and then he drags his tongue against your left nipple, and he smiles when he sees you sigh; a moment later he has closed his lips around it, your hand still on his head as if to stop him from leaving -there is no need, obviously; but it is nice to feel you petting his hair- while Elendil plays with your chest, gently biting the tender flesh and then sucking on your nipples, relentless in that sweet torture that is making him harder than he ever remembers being. This is nice, this is so amazing, to worship your beautiful body like the queen you are, you who in his eyes are more beautiful and perfect than one of the Valië and deserve to be pleasured accordingly, but he wants more, he needs more, he needs to forget everything he is and has done, and to lose himself in your welcoming warmth. No woman has ever been like you, no one he has ever loved and cared for like you, and no one has ever loved him with the same devotion, the same fierce protectiveness and jealousy, like you; he would gladly give his life for yours, and every time your lie together, every kiss, every simple touch, makes him remember how fortunate he has been.

You are together again, free, safe, and soon you will be home with your children. Eru, what else could he want... apart from making love to you until the ship docks at Armenelos’ harbor?

“You do not... ah... plan on spending the whole night playing with my breast, do you?” you asks after a while; you are clearly enjoying his ministrations, but given the way your hands have started moving on his body, desperately touching and caressing any part of him you can reach, that will not satisfy your needs “We are not longer fifteen years old, Elendil.”

“Why, what did you do when you where fifteen, my wife?” he jokes, and then he offers you his hand to sit up, and immediately kisses you once more. “Shall I help you with your dress, my darling?”

He does, once you have stood from the bed and he is sitting on the side. He cannot help but grin as he looks at you disrobing, the dress falling in a circle of fabric around your naked feet. You are not wearing a shift, on account of the warm day, and in a moment your underclothes are likewise out of the way, so that you are finally nude, beautiful and radiant in front of him; there is no shyness in you -whatever ounce of modesty once existed in your body happily disappeared once you have become a married woman- but only a tiny, satisfied smile on your lips betrays the awareness of the effect you have on your husband. Elendil looks at you, and so many years, not to mention three children, have passed since the first time he held you in his arms, but one thing at least has not changed: your beauty still moves him to tears.

“You are so beautiful.” he murmurs, and there are no words in any language on Arda that can express what he feels, but he tries all the same, “Vanimelda, meleth nin.”, and he sees you smile. 

“I love you so much, husband.” you murmur, and you waste no time in reaching him, resting your arms on Elendils’s shoulders as his arms circle your waist, holding you close. You kiss again, your mouths searching for and finding each other as Elendil’s hands move on your warm skin; he is too dressed for what you are about to do, and your hands slip under the hem of his tunic, and Elendil is only too happy to help you take it off. You share a grin, but his expression turns to confusion as he finally notices something is off.

“Where is your necklace?” he asks, wondering how he did not realize it was missing the moment he started kissing your neck; ever since he gifted it to you, the thin silver chain has been part of your body as much as your hair or hands. You might have lost it, of taken it off after the clasp had broken, but something tells Elendil the reason is different... “The one with the pearl.”

“I...”

“What is wrong? I will not be disappointed if you decided to take it off, but...”

“No, that is not it.” you quickly answer, not bearing to have him think you have simply gotten bored with your most precious possession, the one thing that gave you some small amount of comfort while you were apart “Believe me, I never could; it is just...”

“Yes?”

“Please, do not ask me; Elendil, you are here with me, nothing else matters...” 

He whispers your name, quiet, as if he were facing a skittish horse ready to bolt at the least sign of danger. “Please, be honest, as we have always been. What has happened?”

You sigh, and there is shame on your face as you confess that the slave master demanded you let him have the necklace, in exchange for him. “I... I told him it was worth much less than I could offer in gold, that the necklace was only precious to me... but that was exactly why he wanted it. I offered him fivehundred gold pieces; he said no. Either I gave it to him, or he would not give me you. I... I know it makes no sense...”

But it does, at least for an heartless man who enjoys making others miserable, and Elendil has hated his master ever since they met, but now, and despite the relief he has felt knowing that he would never see him again, he is ready to order the ship to stop and return to Draiwen, and risk being captured again to face the man who humiliated his wife.

“I will kill him; with my bare hands.” he promises; put aside are the love, the passion, the relief, Elendil is ready forget his honour and the promise he made to himself to never spill blood if he does not have to, and make sure the smiling man rues the day he slighted his beloved wife “I will force him to beg for mercy at you feet, I will make him regret the day he was born.”

“No, Elendil.”

“Oh, yes. I will speak to the captain, we will be back in Draiwen by dawn, and then...”

“No, Elendil.” you repeat, more forcefully this time, taking his hands in yours; you are living such a beautiful, precious and intimate moment, and you hate wasting it talking and arguing, but you are determined to leave that experience behind you, and your husband’s rage, albeit righteous, would only make him put his life and freedom at risk a second time “Please; let us forget about it. I am saddened as well, more than I could explain, but nothing is more important than having you here; there is nothing I would not have done or given him to make sure you were safe, and back here with me. It is unfair, I know; but we are together, and nothing is more important than this.”

Your husband sighs, still unhappy as he takes your head in his hands and kisses your forehead - a chaste, loving gesture that fills your heart with comfort. “I would offer to buy you a new necklace...”

“... but it would not be the same; I know. Do not be sad; you gave me so many splendid gifts since we began courting, and I do not need material possessions to remember what we share, or to feel you close to my heart. Please, let us stop talking about it. I want you, and I want you to show me how much you have missed me.” 

Still unhappy, your husband smiles nonetheless, and slowly lowers his eyes on your naked body, as if anticipating everything he is going to do to you. “As my mistress commands.” he answers in that deep, musical voice of his that still makes you feel like the girl whose heart trembled the first time he held her hand “What is it that you want? What would make you happy?”

You tell him that you are already happy, given that he is there with you, and the thing you would like the most is to touch his body without the hindrance of his clothes.

“That can be arranged.”

The clothes you had lovingly taken from his dresser at home, guessing that whatever you would find him wearing would be dirty, ragged, and in any case not right for him, slowly fall from the bed to keep your dress and underclothes company. You help him take off his tunic, and you waste no time in kissing the skin you have just brought to light; your husband laughs softly as you let your lips wander, from his shoulders to his collarbone to his pectorals, lingering there long enough to return the favour and deliver a sweet, excruciating torture on his nipples, using your lips and your tongue and even your teeth to force a series of moans out of him. You have been married, and intimate, for so long, and this has given you a complete and perfect knowledge of what arouses and pleases your husband, and now you put that skill to work to show him how you missed him, how you love him, and how happy and grateful you are to have him by your side.

He whispers your name, he moans and begs and prays, torn between pain and desire. “Please... please, my love...”

“Please what, dear husband?” you candidly ask; he is lying on the bed with you kneeling between his spread legs, his torso partially lifted to meet your gaze, frustrated and aroused by the proximity-but-not-quite-contact with your naked body. His pleading blue eyes speak better than his musical voice ever could... but you must admit, it is pleasant to hear him admit what effect you have on him. 

“My darling, I... I need to take you. Please, I... it has been so long... I need to be inside you. So warm ad beautiful and tight... please, darling, I cannot wait, I do not know how long I can resist...”

It would be torture to deny him, even just for a few minutes, and at least in this occasion, you decide to take pity on him - a little bit; you lower your mouth along his abdomen until you meet his navel, which you kiss and suck while you start taking care of his trousers, careful not to touch the turgor underneath. 

“Lift.” you order, and your husband obediently raises his hips to let you take off the rest of his clothes; he is finally naked, his erection proudly raised in front of you, heavy and hard and so perfect for you... and once you have abandoned your husband’s trousers on the floor, you observe it, your hand lazily caressing the heat between your legs, but without touching him at all. 

Your husband looks at you, appalled. “Woman, what are you doing?”

“Looking at you. Should I not? You are very handsome. I enjoy looking at you.”

“Should you not do more than simply admiring me?”

“Hmmm, perhaps...”

He glares at you, menancing and at the same time unable to hide the effect having you there, naked, touching yourself, has on him; you smile sweetly, and then you rest your hand on his ankle, slowly moving it upward along his leg, and then his thigh, and then finally you are wrapping your fingers around Elendil’s erection, already wet with pre-come, and when you caress the tip with your thumb as you move your hand up and down along the shaft, a litany of cries and invocations leaves your husband’s mouth. He is thoroughly enjoying your ministrations, and he deserves to be taken care of, after everything he has been through, and this is why you keep working him for a while, and there is so much you would like to do -take him in your mouth to suck him until he can no longer remember his name, sit on his face and let him use his tongue to make you climax, having him use his long and callous fingers to penetrate you as you kiss- and you will, because it will take you many days to reach Númenor, and what better way you could find to pass the time? But by now, as pleasant as it is to torture him denying him his relief, you cannot wait to have him inside you, sharing your pleasure and your bodies like you have done so many times before. You need him, just like you need air to live; and you will have him, and he will have you, so much time will stop flowing.

He is panting by the time you stop, bending to kiss the tip of his shaft before you lie on the bed next to him; your husband’s hand quickly rests on your hip, warm, possessive, as the two of you gaze in each others’s eyes.

“How do you want me?” you ask, and you have never seen a live wolf, but the grin your husband answers your question with is positively predatory. 

“Above me. Please, mistress.”

“As you wish.” 

You share a new kiss, your legs interwining and Elendil’s shaft pleasantly pressing against you, before your husband wraps his arm around your waist and turns on his back, pulling you above him; you smile, finding a comfortable position with your knees pressing on the bed on either side of his hips, and you move your hands up and down his chest, still unable to quite believe he is safe, and with you, and that he has chosen you to entrust his heart. 

Ulmo, what have you done to be so fortunate?

The ship is rolling under the bed, the oscillatory movement making you feel as if you were being rocked in a cradle; silence has fallen on the cabin, the shadows of the night surrounding you. You see Elendil hold his breath as you take him, slowly welcoming him inside you as you lower yourself on his shaft, and he was right, you are tight, as tight as you were during your wedding night, and you have no idea why, since you have been together so many times in the many years of your marriage, but you do not mind, quite the opposite, because feeling your husband inside you is so nice, so delicious, every inch of him slowly penetrating your flesh with a sensation that is not pain, not exactly, and if you are moaning, and crying, it is because every part of you, your very body and soul together, is singing, and the wave is already mounting inside you, the friction between your bodies making you feel as if your flesh were on fire. Any ounce of self-control is vanishing in the face of something so natural and common and at the same time precious and special. You are a lock and your husband is the key, a source of pleasure and intimacy and harmony, and it is his heart you love, and his mind, his bravery and kindness and sincerity, and that is important as well, because you would not know how to -oh yes Elendil, oh Eru my love yes like this, do not stop, do not stop- how to explain it, but the love you share makes moments like this even more intense, because he is yours and you are his, and no one, no one in all of Arda, would ever give you what he does.

"Eru, you are glorious." your husband whispers in awe. He is looking at you as if in a trance, almost bewitched by the sight of your body dancing above his, the warmth and the tightness so familiar and still able to make him lose his mind; you are so perfect for him, a source of companionship and affection and support and pleasure, and he will never renounce you, he will defend you with his life if need be, and the way you moan his name is almost enough to make him come.

He holds your hips in his hands, fierce and avid in his desire, and he is almost close to his relief when he finally sees you reach yours. "Elendil!" you scream - a real, piercing scream, loud enough to be heard by the whole ship, but you do not care, because your husband has taken your hand to draw you to him, and when he takes your face in his hands and kisses you, now is when you finally come, your body surrendering to the storm of pleasure and sensation while Elendil's strong arms keep you close, because he is not sated with you yet, and he never will be.

"I love you so much." you moan, light-headed and shivering, and that is the moment when he finally follows you beyond the brink, your words the sparkle of a destructive fire, and Elendil is beautiful in his pleasure, his strong body gasping and writhing for the sweet, sensual torture the union of your bodies have given birth to, his hips slapping against yours as he desperately tries to extend your bliss.

"Wife... My wife... How I love you, how... You are so beautiful..." he pants, and when your eyes meet he smiles, and you smile back, humbled and happy, and hold on to him as hard as you can.

*****

Your husband’s scream pierces the room, and unlike those that preceded it until only an hour ago, it does not express pleasure or relief, rather a deep, excruciating fear, that immediately wakes you... and fills you with alarm.

“Elendil! Elendil, stop it, it is all right.” you pray trying to calm him, but at first, he does not seem to hear you; still naked as the day he was born, he is sitting on the bed, hands clenched into fists, eyes wide open and facing horrors only he can see, shaking out of fear. His nightmares -because that must have been the reason for his state; what else?- have brought him so far from the intimacy you are sharing, so far even from you, that when you rest a hand on his shoulder, he reacts in alarm, jolting and instinctively raising his hands to protect himself - or to attack.

“Elendil, my love. No one is hurting you; it is me. You are safe.”

“Safe...?” he repeats, slowly, as if he did not comprehend the meaning of that simple word; he is tense, like a warrior facing the enemy army approaching, and when you cautiously take his hands in yours, it seems to take him a while to even recognize you.

“Yes; safe.” you reassure him, heart full of pity but forcing yourself to smile “I freed you, remember? You are no longer a slave.”

Finally, he relaxes, fully awake once more, and sighs. “I am sorry if I scared you, and I awoke you." he apologizes as he passes an hand in his untamed hair; there was no real need for the blanket you have spread on the bed before both of you fell asleep, since the night is warm, but your husband shivers, as if he were naked under the snow “I had... a bad dream.”

“As I thought. Do you... do you wish to talk about it?”

He shakes his hand, determined, as if he wished nothing less. “I am all right; nightmares cannot hurt me, can they not?” he reasons, as he lies on the bed once more, lifting the blanket to let you join him “Once we will be back in Númenor, I will feel better; I only have to leave this... period... behind me.”

“There is no shame in suffering, Elendil." you consider, taking his hand in yours “Especially when someone has been abused and enslaved, like you are.”

He sighs, the dark mane of his hair falling in rivulets on his chest and shoulders. “I know, but the more I keep thinking about it, the harder it will be to return to my life, and to appreciate what I have. I... I cannot promise I will sleep well from now on, but I know that the moment I am back home, it will be the period I have spent as a slave in Draiwen that will feel like a bad dream.”

You snuggle under the blanket, holding each other as your husband sweetly kisses your forehead, making you smile. "Any nightmare you will have to face, I will be here to wake you up." you reassure him; you can feel his heart beat close to yours, calm and strong and steady, and you think about how nice it will be, to fall asleep to that sound "And if that is the type of nightmare that strikes during the day... we will face it together. I promise."

Elendil smiles back. "With you by my side, my wife." he murmurs "I will never fear anything."

"You will keep that in mind, husband." you caution him, and then you hold him in your arms until you both fall asleep.

TAGGING @starlady66​ and @hippodameia​. 

[shotorozu]

BABE , i saw a hc ( i think it was urs) where the boys’s s/o was really fashionable, ( as somebody that’s gone viral on pinterest a little too many times ) I WAS WONDERING , what if you did a todobakudeku ( separately please omg) with somebody that’s like the emma chamberlain of fashion and they own everybody’s pinterest boards and stuff AHAHA IDK , the amount of times somebody has said ‘ wait ur that one pinterest girl right?? ‘ ANYWHAHEEIE I LOVE YOU N HAPPY BIRTHDAY !!! 💗💗

pinterest famous s/o

character(s) : midoriya izuku, bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] afab! reader, they/them pronouns (at the request of anon) strong quirk hinted; not specific

headcanon type : fluff, crack-ish (x reader)

note(s) : thank you anon!! so ok, i still used they/them pronouns even though the reader is afab (again at the request of anon) and whdjwkd sorry for the inactivity :,) also im gonna post more later so— sorry for the delay

»»————-　♡　————-««

midoriya izuku

when middle school midoriya finally got a phone, he downloaded pinterest for the sole purpose of looking at screencaps of heroes

but then, he hasn’t touched it a few months, because he’s been training with all might

then, when he finally had enough free time again— he decided to go on pinterest

but instead of finding any heroes he could look at, he found the prettiest human being he has ever seen in his entire life 💀

that person was a different type of beauty, y’know— they weren’t just fashionable, but their beauty was,,

timeless? that’s how he’d describe it. yeah. that person lived in his head rent free for a while

sadly, he feels like you’re that person he sees once in his life, and never again 😔　which isn’t the case

when he finally meets you, midoriya realizes that you look VERY familiar— someone on pinterest, that he unfortunately, didn’t know the name of

but then wait! he realizes that you’re that person. that one person that blew up on pinterest, and ended up in all of the fashion boards.

okay, you’ve been recognized a few times in the past, just because you were pinterest famous— but you didn’t expect him to recognize you

“wait,, you know me?” you asked him when you saw the realization sink in

and you were honestly,, flattered when he went on a tangent on how you were on all of the pinterest boards, and how your sense of fashion was timeless

but you know what’s the best thing of it all? when izuku developed a crush on you (and not because he thought you were just an attractive face)

it was very easy to find pictures of you online! he says it’s for research but,, he tends to look at them for a long time

probably has 3-4 pages dedicated to your hero costume— since fashion icon = fashionable, yet a very practical hero costume!

does he get jealous whenever people fawn over your looks, or whenever he sees comments in pinterest comment sections just asking for your socials in such desperation?

hmm,, yes? he does occasionally feel like someone like you, should be with someone as equally beautiful as you

he thought he was always plain looking, but you wholeheartedly disagree! in fact, you fell in love with his ability to pay attention to detail.

to the random creeps in the comments section, he just contacts the uploader and asks them to delete any malicious comments and it works 100% of them time.

on the brighter side, he helps a lot with taking your pictures (if you ask him to) and sometimes! he’ll even appear in them

izuku will always be your #1 fan!

bakugou katsuki

at first, you’d be like “katsuki owning pinterest? naaah.” but! i think he would

being an all might fan, he liked looking at all might screen caps— and while katsuki would be on the discreet side, he’d find himself looking at them whenever he has extra minutes to burn

not to mention, the cooking recipes on there aren’t the worst, so he doesn’t just use pinterest to look at screen caps of heroes doing their work

and, how could he forget that you’ve been bugging him to search for rare screen caps? he says that it’s useless— but he finds himself digging for you anyway,

which is whyyy

he finds an entirely different rabbit hole, and it’s way past 10pm, 3 more minutes wouldn’t wound him.

the blond doesn’t know how he even stumbled on.. this side of pinterest. the one that kind of hurts his eyes.

the more well known side of pinterest, that is covered in pictures of fashion boards, and the standard pretty person.

the ‘aesthetic’ side, kaminari calls it— it makes bakugou cringe, and he was just about to refresh his page

when he spots something familiar, it’s you‼️ well it wasn’t just you but, you were dressed in something,, nice.

like sure! you’re attractive. but that’s not why he’s dating you, there’s a lot of reasons as to why

but, he’s baffled. seeing you in a different light, and in such nice clothing, what more, when he sees that you’re actually everywhere. he hasn’t seen this much of you and your attractive ass before

katsuki told himself that he was going to sleep a few minutes ago, but now? he’s left admiring all of your pictures.

how did he not know that his s/o’s pinterest famous? you’re practically in every single board!

he confronts you the next day in an oddly weird manner, “you didn’t tell me you were famous on that stupid pinterest app.”

you’re sheepish, “welll, i didn’t know that you were going to stumble on that side of pinterest!”

he doesn’t say anything, and really! it looks like he doesn’t care about the newest discovery of his s/o

but he shows his feelings in his own way.

like, how katsuki insists that he finds a new outfit that you’d absolutely love— one that’ll fit with your aesthetic

and that he insists that he does your graphic liner, because you’re going to ‘poke your eyes out’

makes an entirely different account to reply to those simps and creeps in the comment section, sort of like

random pinterest user : “the things i’ll do to be crushed by them 💦”

pinterestuser461903 : “go touch some fucking grass.”

also would’ve commented “your art sucks” at the poorly done drawings of you in the comments, but knows you appreciated the art— so he doesn’t

(still thinks the fanart doesn’t do you enough justice)

he’ll be super proud when someone notices you in person like “yeah that’s fucking right, but too bad they’re super attractive and way out of your league.”

in short, it looks like katsuki doesn’t care at all about your pinterest famous life, but he’s your #1 supporter

todoroki shouto

i am certain for this one— he doesn’t have pinterest

well, he didn’t have pinterest, until midoriya convinced him to create an account, but it kinda just ended at that

but the person that actually made him use pinterest was sero, because he kept bugging him to give it a try

todoroki finds the app very practical— he can find screen caps of heroes in action, and he can also find oddly helpful tips in cooking (and in anything)

but sero was like “todoroki, what about the aesthetic value??” and todoroki didn’t really get that part to be honest 💀

todoroki, being clueless didn’t know what to search for— so sero being the wonderful friend he is, helped him search for it

and that’s when it happened. it didn’t take that long, but they eventually found an entire section just full of pictures of you; their classmate and crush

“is that Y/N?” mina notices what they’re looking at, and she observes the picture “oh wow— it is her! no wonder why she looked familiar.”

“it’s impressive! our classmate is pinterest famous!” they continue to look at every single post in each board, and todoroki’s left to observe in silence

he has definitely taken a liking to you, even if he didn’t realize it at first— he liked you because of your hard work when it came to training, personality and patience, not because of your looks

obviously, todoroki thinks that you look good in anything, trashbag style or not. but seeing you in this light was interesting.

so after training, todoroki would spent a good portion of his time scavenging for more pictures— not because he was obsessed or anything

but because,, he really liked your pictures. maybe it was because without you in those pictures, it would feel incomplete

he didn’t know how to approach you after this discovery, which is why he’s glad that you approached him first

“todoroki! what are you looking at?” you took a peak at his screen, and you’re baffled to see yourself, and that very famous picture of you

he’s quiet for a second when he realizes that you’ve caught him staring at your pictures, but he explains calmly, “sero accidentally discovered your pictures,, and i just wanted to take a peak at them, if it was okay,,”

and he’s relieved— well, you’re also relieved. you didn’t know how your crush would react if he ever saw those pictures, but your heart skipped a beat knowing that he enjoyed looking at them

“it’s alright todoroki,” you smile, honestly over the moon as you spoke “i’m really glad that you like them.”

sometimes you’d get shy whenever he’d go on pinterest just to look at your pictures, “todoroki, not that one! that one was really old,,” is what you’d say whenever he’d look at your older photos but he’d still look at them anyway 💀

at first, todoroki helped you in his own subtle way. since he’s quite the fashion icon— he’d recommend you clothes to wear for future pictures

he eventually confessed— and it was because you were talking to him while he was really tired, and he blurted out that he really, really liked you and you almost passed away because of his words

so yeah— it was a case of secretly admiring their beautiful best friend to lovers scenario

he’d go the full mile when it came to taking your pictures. he’d check the weather forecast just in case if it was going to rain for that date, and impromptu picnic photoshoot

that boyfriend that has pictures of you in his photo gallery, and has a backstory for each photo if anyone were to ask

also that boyfriend that knows how to take pictures, will probably even lay down to take them, even if you didn’t kindly ask him to

when you asked him to join the picture, he didn’t really know how to— but he made it work! and the both of you guys went viral

but this isn’t all one sided, no— whenever you guys would cuddle, shouto would simply stare at you with HEARTS in his eyes,

and even before he leans in for a kiss, he’ll stare at you with so much love in his eyes, while he traces his thumb across your cheekbones. man’s in love— you’re gorgeous.

he knows that you know that he’s not with you because of any ulterior motive, you both have mutual trust in each other— so it’s not something you guys will bother on questioning because you’re both hot asf lets be real

he’s not uncomfortable whenever people gawk at you in public— i mean, you two get stares on the regular. and how could they not stare at you? you’re very attractive, and he’s glad that people recognize that

but he’ll get protective if they’ll try to be a threat to your loving relationship with him, he won’t be afraid to be blunt

regarding the comments on each pinterest post— he hates it when people say things out of the line

always tries to hide them from you so you don’t feel bothered by them, but if you knew about them— he’ll be sad :,(

but he’ll end up mass reporting those nasty comments— and they always get taken down, because of the shouto todoroki luck

in short? man’s whipped, and the both of you guys are SO attractive together— what more if people knew about the om chemistry?

really— you being pinterest famous was just a nice plus, he fell in love with you for you

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[thegingeralien]

Thought I might share my “doing homework with adhd” tips in case the might help even just one person (because that would make me feel happy).

Who am I to be giving you advice? Good point! I am still terrible at studying and I’m 26 and at University for the millionth time. But I have studied A LOT in my 22 years of schooling with varying degrees of success.

I see a lot of people, especially teenagers or first year university/college students, with ADHD asking for tips on how to study. But if you do a google search most of the websites and advice that comes up can be extremely ableist. So I hope I can help someone!

TIPS TO HELP YOU STUDY WHEN YOU HAVE AN ADHD GREMLIN BRAIN!:

1. Chewing gum!

- This might come across as a weird one, but it has actually really helped me. I use it as a form of stimming to help keep me focused and concentrating. Other forms of stimming can potentially end up being more of a distraction when you actually need to be reading or writing - but they can help if you just need to be listening. Try not to get a bubble gum or fun flavoured one though - as they can end up making your mouth feel dry, lose flavour quickly, and just give your brain way too many sensory things to become distracted with.

2. Buying colour coded stationary!

- New stationary can make me really excited to start studying, but that excitement never lasts long and the act of buying stationary can sometimes become it’s own hobby. That’s not what we are going for here. I really recommend, especially if you are a visual learner like me, to buy colour coded stationary. This means removable page markers, different coloured post it notes, highlighters, sometimes even pens. This way if your mind jumps from one topic to the other, it doesn’t matter. Go with the flow. Forcing your ADHD gremlin brain to focus can be extremely counter intuitive. So pick a colour for each topic, and stick to that system to find organisation among your own chaos!

3. Buy a really cheap, boring year diary with hardly any writing inside.

- Not sure if your school/university has their own diary but they can be perfect for what I am on about. Generally you can find them for really cheap, soft cover, no writing or designs within the dates. Just dates, days, weeks and lines where you can write your homework. This helped me a lot in High School. I wish I had kept doing it in University, but I am good with giving advice, and not so much with taking it. I used to decorate the outside of it however I wanted. Some years I would redecorate the same diary every semester. In the public holidays or holiday days I would colour those lines in with different highlighters to make it look like a rainbow. But every assignment due date, homework, draft, rewrite, form I had to bring back, library book due date, school activity days, ANYTHING to do with school I would write in there with reminds and check lists. Important due dates would be highlighted, general homework and daily to do lists t(o help me not leave my assignments to the last minute) would have a tick box beside them (because ticking tick boxes is free dopamine). Try to not put birthdays or fun things in it. This is a small way to stay on track so it helps you actually stay on track with the big things when you’re home.

4. Big whiteboards stuck on the wall where you can’t avoid it.

- This is not something I had in school, but I so wish I did. I have been using this recently to keep on top of house work (as maintaining your own house is tiring) and my small business or other things I really can’t avoid. If I physically write it down (not just in my phone) it psychologically does help you commit it to memory. Again, physically putting a line through a task you just completed is a hecking great rush of dopamine. But the biggest reason I love my white board, I can’t ignore it. It is stuck to the wall and is never out of sight, out of mind. I can’t put my phone or diary down and then refuse to look at it until I’m past the due date. Again, I’m not a perfect person, there are days where I don’t do anything I have written on the white board. But the great thing is, I don’t have to continuously feel like I failure, as I can wipe it all off the next morning or week and start fresh. I also put important things I have to remember that I’m doing during the week so I don’t forget them.

5. Icky Medication.

- I know not everyone wants to be on medication, and I understand. I am not forcing you to. No matter what your opinions are, you lovely gremlin who is still reading this post, regarding medication, you are valid and I respect you. My personal experience with medication has not been the best. I have been misdiagnosed for a severe chunk of my academic life which has seen me trying to focus and maintain school work under some even worse states then I am unmedicated! However, since receiving my diagnosis and finding the right ADHD medication for me, I have the ability to get so much work done without having to unnecessarily struggle. It’s unfortunately not magic, it will not turn me into a robot that makes me do work and turn out incredible, noble peace prize winning assignments (as much as I wish that were possible). I still have the ability to be a lump, doom scrolling through tumblr, forgetting to eat, and ignoring responsibilities. But it really helps me when I sit down and start that thing that isn’t fun. Yesterday it helped me hyperfocus on cleaning my office which was a terrifying room to be in. So it’s pretty close to magic in my opinion!

6. Accessing Disability Support at your place of learning.

- Not all of you taking the time to read this will have either a) an offical diagnosis or b) a good disability support available to you wherever you are completing your studies. And that is okay. This dot point just won’t be for you right now. But keep it in mind for a time when it might apply to you, as it’s something I never thought I would need, but will never take for granted ever again.

- If you have an offical diagnosis and Disability Support, make an appointment with the disability support adviser. DO IT NOW! Get your psychiatrist to write a diagnosis letter outlining that you have <enter superpower that makes you hilarious here> and that you are receiving <enter x,y,z treatment here> and that you would benefit from receiving <enter what you have always wished you had on the days you can’t make your ADHD gremlin brain do the thing here>. Now these benefits can be, but not limit to: automatic extensions on ALL assignments, extra time on exams, extra breaks to walk around while taking exams, special consideration when marking assignments, my university allows me to take exams in a separate room with only the other students in my subject who also have disability support (occasionally I have taken an exam alone with only a tutor present) so I don’t get distracted, permission to take fidget items into class or exam (I have the option to wear headphones, as long as I can display that they are not connected to anything). Maybe you can come up with some great ones for you with your disability advisor or your psychiatrist.

- The disability advisor will often go through your course outline with you at the start of each semester or year. This is annoying and a great time for disassociating, but can be useful in hindsight because you are made aware of everything that will come up during your class so you are not surprised. Because lets be honest, it is unlikely you are going to look at the course calendar too often.

- Side Note: I make an appointment every semester with my disability support officer for my area of study to make sure I have my special considerations for the year. Now I may go through the whole year without ever using my considerations. However, the fact that I know they are there takes an insane amount of pressure off of myself. If I’m having an insanely screwy loony tune mental health moment, I can email my coordinator my disability plan and say I need an extension due to personal reasons, and WHOOP, there it izzzzz.

7. Dedicated one thing or a few things that have nothing to do with food/alcohol/other substances to reward yourself with for doing the thing!

- This may not work for everyone. It doesn’t always work for me. I used to reward myself with food, but that only reinforced my stimming with overeating and my already bad relationship with food. And I feel as though that would be the same with any other substance that can be linked with addiction. (Addiction is a tough word, cause what aren’t I addicted to, I have ADHD, but hopefully you get what I mean!).

-Now, boring try and not choose this aside, lets think of somethings that work really well as rewards!

- My partner likes to come give me a kiss and a hug when ever they have written and reread a paragraph, you might buy a book when you get a really good mark, you might want to go make a cup of tea and watch an episode of your hyperfixation after studying for <enter a good period of time here>, you might allow yourself to partake in an activity you usually do while procrastinating (but at least this time you know you aren’t putting something off), talk to someone who you know will tell you they are proud of you as they understand the mental struggle you go through to concentrate (if you can’t think of anyone, it is 110% okay if that person are the amazing people on tumblr or the adhd tumblr chats. We will freaking pop a bottle of champagne for you cause we get it!).

- Try and make what ever you choose be something in a different room or away from your working space. Getting out can really calm you down.

8. Don’t be afraid to ask for assistance.

- This is true for anything, but I don’t mean just asking your teacher to give you extra help understanding the task and marking rubric. Many people online, tutors, librarians at your school, past or present students offer assistance rereading and making small edits (they won’t make it magical unfortunately) to your assignments. If you are like me and once you have written or completed the dreaded thing, you can not imagine or force your gremlin brain reread or edit the thing. So it can help to just delegate this to someone else, who hasn’t read it before, so they won’t disassociate or skim read it. They will often notice things you never would have even if you were neurotypical as that is just what happens when you have been working on something for so long.

9. Repetitive music.

- It generally helps if this has no lyrics. Lo-fi is amazing. Classical is alright too if it works for you, but both my partner and I agree that it can really assist you to keep up pace and focus when the beat is a high and repetitive (almost meditative) tempo.

10. Limit your screen space.

- This is a tip completely from my partner @dr-adhd who also has ADHD, is an avid PC gamer and is consistently in a battle with their gremlin brain to focus on completing their PhD. They have discovered that it really helps them to limit their screen space - simply put, work on one screen only. They have done more work more easily when they have their one screen on their laptop to focus on. Whereas their office has multiple screens so they could be playing runescape, watching YouTube, listening to lo-fi and doing work - which never worked (shocking right hahaha).

11. At the risk of sounding like a Mum... Put your phone and other electronics other than the assignment necessary one, away.

- I am a Mum, but to a fluffy puppy dog, so I hate to sound like my Mum when I was in high school, but she was right. Mobiles are the single easiest and biggest distraction in ADHD history. I often, even at coffee shops, have to turn my phone over so that I am not consistently looking at it every time the screen lights up to say the pizza place has sent me a coupon, or a carpet place that has been having a sale since I was born is... still having a sale, or a friend from school wants you to watch this TikTok. Even though you might not want to ignore your friends, because people pleasing, difficulting making/keeping friends and RSD are hecking real things, but they can all wait. Trust me, none of them are urgent. That TikTok will still be funny in an hour or two. And I’m probably completely right when I say that whomever just messaged you, never replies as quickly as you want them too. So I doubt they are going to think twice if you are MIA to finish your thing.

My partner or I might add to this later, but at the moment I already know that I probably wouldn’t read this wall of words if I was the one reading it, so if you are still with me, THANK YOU and I really hope I might have helped you. Sorry for the mound of words, but maybe you can reblog, screen shot, or save this and read a dot point at a time or refer to it when you need. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, I promise what ever it is, I’ve asked the same thing once in my life or something MUCH stupider.

[theonewiththefanfics]

Give You Hell (one-shot)

Synopsis: When you’re in a relationship with someone famous while being famous it can be difficult. But not for the Reader and Harry, yet when her past comes knocking, she’ll make sure to know where she stands.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, some minor angst, like microscopic 

Warnings: swearing, reference to past abusive relationship, but nothing explicit.

Word count: 3428

100% inspired by ‘All American Rejects’’ ‘Gives You Hell’

Dating someone famous while being famous yourself had pros and cons, much like everything in life. The cons mostly came from the outside, not from the inside. It was the opinions of others, thinking what they said mattered, the scrutiny of the press, hoping one of them would mess up, and they could run some bullshit article just so their numbers could go up, without a second thought of how the people involved felt, and it was some jealous fans who didn’t seem to comprehend the people they admired were actual human beings with feelings and thoughts and emotions and autonomy. But other than that, Y/N’s and Harry’s relationship was just like any other. Save for when their emotions bubbled over, millions of people heard them in songs.        They’d met at the iconic yellow-suit-Harry Brit awards. She’d been right next to Hugh Jackman opening the show, a red glittering bodysuit with a black and gold ring-master jacket, a top hat adorning her head as she dominated the stage. If Harry had been sloshed at that point (much like he was later on, but who was Y/N to say, given how most of the night was a blur for her), he would’ve absolutely started drooling at the sight of her, and he was one of the thousands who stood up, hollering and clapping as she and Hugh ended their performance.

       Much to his dismay though, Y/N wasn’t one of the people assigned to sit by his table, instead, she was a couple of rows behind, whispering something into Billie Eilish’s ear, the two erupting into uncontrollable laughter.        He felt like a creep as he tried to catch every possible glimpse of Y/N, her smile making his heart race. She’d been on his radar for a while, had even thought about asking her to collaborate on a song for ‘Fine Line’, but at the end of the day, it was an album of personal discovery (and when one of his producers told him Y/N was halfway across the world in the middle of Norwegian woods for the next half-year working on her own music, he didn’t want to be a bother). But seeing her then, Harry wondered why he hadn’t reached out on his own, especially after at the after-party Lizzo had dragged Y/N to him and introduced the two.        The following day, pictures of them dancing together, drinks in hands and drunken grins on their faces would sweep the web, sparking millions of rumours, but, at that moment, they didn’t care, nor did they care about what was written because as Harry twirled Y/N under his arm, as much as the connection was there, that night they went their separate ways. Even when they were drunk, they understood that about the other person, and wouldn’t accept anything else, but a sober and coherent ‘yes’.        Sometime midday the next day, Harry reached out to Y/N through a DM on Instagram checking in on how she was doing, which then turned into a six-hour FaceTime call.        “What do you mean you’ve never had a hangover?!”        Y/N laughed at Harry’s almost offended expression. “I mean I’ve never had a hangover. I’ve never thrown up while drunk or after being drunk, my head’s never hurt – nothing. I mean I’m tired, but that’s because I’m still on New York time and got to bed at like five AM.”        “You… are something else.”        She wiggled her eyebrows. “Is that something else something good?”        Y/N didn’t know, but when Harry saw her eyes sparkle, his heart skipped a beat, and he immediately knew – she was it. “The best.”        “Well…” she bit her lip. “If I’m the best, would it be too forward of me to ask you out for a coffee?”        What Harry didn’t know was that when she saw him smile as if those were the best news in the world, her heart skipped as well, and she knew he was the one.        “Only if it’s my treat.”        “But I was the one who asked you out.”        “Yes, but you can pay for the second date.”        Holding in her squeals of joy was tough, but she raised her eyebrow, giving Harry a sly smirk. “Already so confident there’ll be a second date?”        Harry scoffed. “And a wedding!”        Seeing Y/N throw back her head as she laughed, made all sorts of butterflies fly through his stomach.        “Okay, Styles. I’ll take your word for it.”        Three months into the relationship, the two were booked to appear on The Graham Norton show together, which was also the first time they’d appear officially as a couple at a work/outing kind of a setting since the rumours started floating, and a picture of Harry kissing Y/N outside of a hotel room had sort of confirmed that.        “So, you two.” Graham pointed between Y/N and Harry with his cards. “Have started to date? Not to say anything Harry, but Y/N… I didn’t think boy-bands were your type.”        That made her lean over in laughter as Harry gave everyone a shocked face, before slumping back and pouting, nudging Y/N with his knee. “That’s not funny.”        “I mean it kind of is.”        “She was twelve when she swore off boy-bands.” Graham nodded, taking a sip of his wine. “Isn’t that what you said last time you were here?”        “Hey, it’s been ten years since I said that!” Y/N laughed. “Cut me some slack. All the people I was crushing on are married anyway… with kids… and could probably be my dads… I have issues, don’t I?”        Everyone exploded into giggles while Harry shook his head, chuckling.        “Love you with all of your issues.” He nudged her shoulder, and she nudged right back, taking a sip of her drink.        “Yeah, give it a couple of months. You’ll regret your words.”        The thing was Y/N was so wrong, and she’d never been happier to be so wrong. Each morning they were together, Harry woke up to her showering him with kisses or vice versa. As private as Harry was, his Instagram stories were now filled with pictures and small videos of them, of Y/N’s face half-covered by a blanket, glasses crooked as she smushed her cheek to his chest and watched a movie, or her eating breakfast while re-watching old Bones and Castle episodes with captions like ‘dunno how she keeps the food down’ and ‘she swears it’s just for research’, while her feed was full of candid Harry photos or her rummaging through his closet and showing everyone his immaculate style, and giving tips how others can recreate it (also she may or may not just use that as a reason to steal his clothes).        Generally, people loved it, and their love for one another. It was refreshing to see them enjoy each other’s company, and not be afraid to do so, especially now, given how it was a couple of days before Y/N ended her tour in New York in Madison Square Garden, to which Harry had specifically flown out for despite being in the middle of filming for ‘The Little Mermaid’. Three AM blinked on the clock, as the two finally drifted off to sleep after five hours of a passionate reunion when her phone dinged, indicating a message had arrived.        “Turn it off,” Harry grumbled into the skin of Y/N’s back. “’S too early.”        She hummed in agreement, furrowing her brows as her palm blindly searched for the offending device, and she squinted her eyes as the light burned her retinas before widening in shock at the message.        Harry felt her body go rigid, and he pressed a kiss to her neck. “Everythin’ alright, lovie?”        “Uh – “ she stuttered, trying to process the words on the screen. “Uh, yeah. Yes, everything’s fine. Just… some last-minute changes for the show. They want something really big for the ending, and some of the propositions are just…”        She could feel a smile stretch across Harry’s mouth. “Extravagant?”        “You could say that, yeah.”        “Sounds like it’s gonna be one hell of a show. Not that the others weren’t.”        Y/N switched the phone off wiping away the message first and then turned to cuddle into Harry’s chest. “It most certainly will.”        For the next two days, she was an anxious ball of mess, as her crew got everything ready, and her and her band rehearsed relentlessly before she asked all of them to gather at the studio to add a song to the setlist.        “It’s gonna be a couple more hours, Hazza,” Y/N murmured into the phone as Harry had called in to check on her. “ ‘M sorry. You don’t have to wait up for me. I know you’re still adjusting to New York time.”        “ ‘S alright,” he slurred, clearly already falling asleep but determined not to. “Can’t sleep without you anyway.”        At those words, Y/N’s heart did that stupid flipping thing it’d been doing ever since Harry entered her life to stay, and a shy grin blossomed on her lips. “You’re exhausted, sweetheart. But I’ll tell you what - if you do go to bed, I’ll be sure to wake you up with a kiss when I get back.”        “You promise?” She could hear the smile on his face.        “Swear it.”        “Alright, lovie. I’ll be waiting to cash in on that kiss.”        “I’ll run to give it to you as soon as I can. G’night.”        “See ya’ in a bit.”        Y/N let out a shudder as she heard the call disconnect. She entered back inside the studio and clapped her hands, drawing the attention of her producers and band members. “Where were we?”

***

       The hour before a show was always nerve-wracking for Y/N. It’s when the adrenaline truly started to rush, when her feet and palms got all tingly, and her ears and cheeks heated up. It was when their warm-up band exploded on stage, and the crowd got pumped up. But the best moment that night by far was right when she was about to run out, Harry had pulled her back by the wrist and kissed the living daylights out of her.        “You’re gonna kill it tonight,” he muttered against her lips, words skimming her mouth and making her smile as bright as the sun. She seemed to do that a lot around him. It’s why he now dedicated Golden to her every time he sang it.        “Thank you. For being here.”        Harry flicked her nose. “Always. Now go. People are waiting.”        When Y/N finally appeared on stage, pretty much glowing as brightly as the stage lights, her fans went wild, and even more so when she jumped, starting off the show. The whole time, her gaze flitted to backstage just to get a glimpse of Harry, and whenever she did, she saw him dancing, singing along, filming her having fun and some clips of himself as well, going absolutely ham to her songs.        As the night was moving towards the end, usually, she’d feel euphoria from giving a great performance, after hearing thousands of people sing her songs in unison, now Y/N felt closer to throwing up and fainting.        “So uh…” She pushed back strands of sweaty hair, hollers of people echoing in her head. “This is a very special show tonight. Umm… this is the first concert my boyfriend’s come t - .” She didn’t even get to finish the sentence before the cheers of the people interrupted her, deafening the girl even with the earplugs.        “But umm… it’s also a special show because two days ago someone reached out to me, and uh… he… well, he was as important of a person once the same way Harry is right now, and he wrote this.”        Y/N went over to where the piano chair was, lifted it and fished out her phone from it, revealing the message that’d been basically haunting her nights and days since receiving it.        “Breaking up with you was the biggest mistake I ever made.” To her own surprise, her voice was steady and sure, unlike her hands which were trembling like leaves in a storm. “I know you look happy and in love, but I know it’s not true. I’ve known you for five years, I know how to see through the mask you put on every day just to make sure others are happy while you yourself suffer an inauthentic life. But you do deserve to be happy. And I’ll be waiting for you if you decide to give us a chance again. I’ll be at your concert in Madison Square.” She looked out into the crowd. “You wrote a song once for me. If you sing it, that’s how I’ll know you feel the same.”        By the time she got to the end, there were no more shouts or screams, but confused murmurs. Y/N let out a shuddering breath, hoping that she could manage to do what she wanted, and everything didn’t fall apart. “The thing is, I’d like for Harry to come on stage, please.”        She could see the fear in his eyes as he jogged to stand next to her, but he disguised it with an overenthusiastic smile as he waved over towards the raging sea of people. He’d seen the message, had seen her reread it more than fifty times by that point, and as sure as he was in their relationship, when someone who held such importance, no matter if good or not, in someone’s life came knocking again, you could never be too sure what would happen. Harry didn’t want to say anything, believing if it was important enough, she’d tell him. Guess that was it.        “So, uh…” Y/N pulled Harry’s arms over her shoulders and grasped onto them, grounding them both. “This is for you.” Y/N looked over into the crowd before glancing over her shoulder, Y/E/C eyes meeting Harry’s wavering green ones. “And you,” she whispered so that only he could hear. “Hope you know I mean everything.”        As the cords started playing, she felt Harry unwarp his arms from where she’d been holding them over her shoulders and a smile erupted on her face.        “I wake up every evening,” Y/N sang, “with a big smile on my face, and it never feels out of place.”        “And you’re still probably workin’,” Harry’s voice joined in, grin as wide as the Cheshire cat’s, as he now had a microphone in hand, the other placing earplugs in his own ears, “at a nine-to-five pace… I wonder how bad that tastes.”        “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell,” the two harmonized, Y/N’s eyes locked onto the masses, imagining the face of her ex-boyfriend who had the audacity to send that message.        “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell.” Harry was looking at the crowd as well, now fully understanding the message and the person behind it, and although he lived by ‘treat people with kindness’, he couldn’t help but gloat at the fact he got to sing with the love of his life on stage, and basically serenade a break-up song to a person who didn’t know how to appreciate what he’d had.        Y/N cocked her head to the side. “Now, where’s your picket fence, love, and where’s that shiny car? It didn’t ever get you far. You’ve never seemed so tense, love. I’ve never seen you fall so hard. Do you know where you are?” It was hard not to smile, knowing where she was and who she was with. Harry threw an arm over Y/N’s shoulders as she sang, giving a mock sad look, while Harry pouted. “And truth be told, I miss you… And truth be told, I’m lying!”        “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well.” Y/N pointed towards where she imagined her ex was standing. “Then she’s the fool, you’re just as well, hope it gives you hell! Hope it gives you hell!” For a split second, the music slowed down, guitar strumming in the air, as Harry pulled Y/N by the palm and towards his chest.        When the next lyrics came out of his mouth, he knew them to be true as he sang them to the man, he’d heard Y/N talk about, to the man who thought everything he’d done to her, every horrible word and deed was justified, to the man who thought breaking someone else down was the only way to bring themselves up. “Now tomorrow you’ll be thinking to yourself, where did it all go wrong, but the list goes on and on.”        “And truth be told, she misses you,” Harry hummed, Y/N letting out a large laugh, holding onto his bicep, as he slightly changed the lyrics. “And truth be told, she’s lying! When you see her face, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you walk her way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!  When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well.” Harry sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “Then she’s the fool you’re just as well hope it gives you hell.”        “Now you’ll never see,” Y/N took over the song. “What you’ve done to me.” She placed a hand over her heart. “You can take back your memories, they’re no good to me. And here’s all your lies, you can look me in the eyes, with that sad, sad look that you wear so well.” She dragged her finger down her cheek, giving a pout while Harry mimicked her stance before turning the mic to the audience.        “When you see my face, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell,” the crowd sang back with such vigour, Y/N was sure the whole ground was shaking just from their voices, and the clapping and stomping to the drum rhythm would bring the whole world down. “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well, then she’s the fool you’re just as well, hope it gives you hell!”        The two were jumping around the stage like madmen, adrenaline filling their veins. “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!” “Hope it gives you hell!” Everyone else repeated.        “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!” “Hope it gives you hell!”        “When you sing this song and sing along, well you’ll never tell. Then you’re the fool, I’m just as well, hope it gives you hell!” Y/N grinned once more, placing her hand over her heart, meaning every word – she was just as well. She had amazing friends, a career that’d flourished, and a person who loved her more than words could describe.        “When you hear this song, I hope that it will give you hell!” Harry crooned down the mic, knowing their happiness would, Y/N’s happiness would give him hell. And he enjoyed it, knowing how good her life was.        “You can sing along I hope that it puts you through hell!” Her voice became the only sound as the last word echoed around everyone, her chest heaving up and down from the exertion, from all of the emotions running through her body as well as the overwhelming feeling of not only having Harry watch her perform but to end up performing with him.        When his hands wrapped around her body, it startled her out from the daze, and the popping confetti startled her even more, as the rest of her band joined the two to take their bows, grins on all of their faces while they did so.        “Not the song you thought I’d sing, is it?” Y/N laughed into the mic, Harry’s arms tightening around her waist. “There’s a reason I blocked your number, let alone you from my life. Don’t think I won’t do it again.”        “But I would like to say thank you, to the asshole in question,” Harry said, making Y/N’s forehead scrunched up. “You let go of the best person ever; you had the honour of calling yourself her boyfriend, but instead, you chose to walk away. So, thank you for that. Because now I’ll have that honour and pleasure for the rest of our lives.”        Yeah. It was one hell of a show.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog​ @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​

A/N: I love ‘All American Rejects’ and have been listening to ‘Gives You Hell’ non stop. It’s the best break-up song ever, and you won’t convince me otherwise. 

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. please don’t repost my work on other platforms without my explicit written permission. reblogs are fine :)

[cecesunshine]

Hi!

Could you please write 7 with Axel

Thank youuu ^^

Hi, here it is! I decided to take an sad turn to the story because I didn't know how to make this fluff lmao. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

MASTERLIST

UNFAIR | AXEL

Summary → Axel and Scholar discover that people can be unfair to each other, even when they both love each other.

Pairing → Axel x Scholar

Warnings → Allusion to cheating but no actual cheating + doesn’t have a happy ending

Word Count → 1495

Prompts used → 7. You never had a problem with it before.

A/N → English is not my first language, so I’m sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn’t make sense!

No matter how long Axel and Scholar had been together, there was something that was always in the back of the couple’s mind. Distance. They had been together for nearly a year now but every time they were away from each other due to Axel’s schedule. He was always at the studio, touring or busy with something else, which affected his time with his significant other.

Scholar stared at their laptop’s clock, looking at the hour. 2 am. He was going to miss their weekly video call. They sighed, running their hands through their hair. The call was scheduled for 1 am. He promised that he was going to show up. They hadn’t really spoken to each other since the beginning of the winter break.

Feeling sleepy, Scholar closed their laptop and left it at the desk.

The only thing that was going to comfort them tonight was their bed.

The next days were filled with Scholar packing their things, ready to go back to Arlington after the winter break. Somehow their room didn’t seem like it was theirs anymore, which gave Scholar more motivation to pack their things. Besides all the pressure, Arlington felt more like a home than their childhood house.

Carrying their bags downstairs so they would be all set for tomorrow, Scholar saw their father sitting on the couch with a worried look on his face. He was watching some type of gossip program, which was odd.

“Since when do you like this type of show?” Scholar said, sitting next to their father.

“Jesus kiddo, don’t scare your old man like that.” He replied, putting his hand over his chest. “I was switching channels but saw this.” He pointed at the tv, which was playing a video of Axel on a loop. “Isn’t this your...uh...boyfriend?”

The video was of Axel with his hand over a girl’s shoulder. The girl in question being Gianna Portinari, a famous Italian model. According to the show’s host, the video was taken by a fan of the show who was on vacation in Italy and saw the “couple” walking through the streets of Milan in the early morning.

Scholar quickly connected the dots. There was a six-hour difference between their city and Italy. 2 am where they lived meant 7 am in Italy. Axel ditched them so he could hang out with a girl.

Scholar ran to their room, grabbed their phone and hit call. Nothing. They called seventeen times until they were finally tired of calling. It was going straight to voicemail.

The teen felt like throwing their phone across the room, but they knew it wasn’t worth it. They would also not have money to replace it.

The day they were desperately waiting for finally arrived. It was time to go back to Arlington. The flight had gone well, as Scholar slept during the entire trip. As they landed, anxiety started to grow on them, they would have to face their boyfriend and probably the end of their relationship.

At the airport, Scholar got in a taxi that would drive them to Arlington. Car drives aren’t as relaxing when your mind can’t stop creating scenarios of how your relationship will end.

After paying the driver and taking their bags from the taxi, Scholar found themselves in front of Arlington Academy, ready to start another semester. They spotted Claire and Raquel talking near the dorms and walked to them.

“Scholar! Nice to see you again! How was the break? Did you and your dad have fun?” Raquel said warming her friend into a tight hug.

“Yeah, we had some fun. The break was normal I guess, I had time to recharge batteries.” Scholar replied trying not to sound sad.

“We saw the thing about Axel.” Claire announced. “And we’re here for you if you need us.”

“Thanks girls.” Scholar thanked their friend, wanting to end the conversation there.

The cold wind of January made Scholar hold on tight to their coat. They said goodbye to their friends and walked to their room.

The room seemed empty, as they weren’t there for a month. Scholar opened their bags, ready to unpack their clothes and put things where they belonged.

As they were going to start to put their jackets in the clothes hangers in the wardrobe, someone knocked at the door.

Opening the door, Scholar was greeted by their boyfriend, who was holding a rose bouquet.

“Hi.” Axel said, ready to enter the room.

“No.” Scholar closed the door on his face, not wanting to deal with that in the moment.

“Oh come on! Don’t be like that, corazón!” He yelled from outside, knocking at the door again.

Scholar rolled their eyes. They knew how their boyfriend was and knew that they weren’t going to give up until they had want they wanted. Scholar opened the door again and motioned for him to come in.

“First of all, thank you for letting me in.” He said, earning a bored look from his lover. “And second, I bought you this.” He gave Scholar the bouquet, not receiving the energy he was expecting. “You look nice.”

“You’re not getting out of this with flowers and compliments, Axel.” Scholar said putting the bouquet in the desk.

“What did I do now?” Axel said, massaging his temple with his fingers. “It’s about me and Gia, right?”

“Gia? God, you even have a nickname for her.”

“Scholar, baby, Gia and I are just friends.” Axel walked to his partner, who stepped back. “And why are you acting like this all of a sudden?”

“Why? Because I’m the one dating you! I shouldn’t have to compete with your supermodel flings!” Scholar screamed, grabbing their phone and searching for photos of Axel with other people. “Look! If I search Axel the suggestions are either your songs or you with other girls and guys! Axel and Gianna Portinari, Axel and Taylor Covington, Axel and Rowan Harvey, Axel and Peyton Easterling...do you want me to go on?”

“I get it, I get it, I go out with a lot of celebrities, so what? I’m not even friends with them! It’s called a publicity stunt!” Axel yelled back. “You never had a problem with it before.”

“I didn’t, but now I have! You are always seen with someone new acting all lovey dovey and…” Scholar felt their eyes get watery. “and I get jealous. You ditched our last video-call.”

“Because I was busy! I have a career, Scholar! I’m sorry can’t dedicate all of my time to you!”

“Busy walking down the streets of Milan with a supermodel? Give me a break!” Tears fell down Scholar’s cheeks, exposing their vulnerability to their significant other.

“Scholar, come on. You know that I love you. And what does it matter if I spend time with other people? I don’t kiss them, I don’t even know their names sometimes! I’m a performer, I perform to the paparazzi.” Axel himself was starting to cry.

“It’s just hard. You’re never here. I’m competing for your attention with other people all the time and I keep losing. It’s unfair.” They confessed.

“Unfair? Scholar, I always come back to you.” Axel put his hands over Scholar’s shoulders. “You don’t need to compete with anyone, I’m yours. I’ve always been, since day one.”

“You’re mine when it’s convenient to you. You’re mine when you have the time.” Scholar pushed him away gently. “It’s tiring. I can’t keep pretending that you having dates with other people doesn’t affect me, even if are just publicity stunts.”

“I’m sorry. I’m going to stop, I promise.” The words escaped Axel’s mouth almost instantly. Even himself knew he was lying. He had no control over his public relationships.

“Don’t lie to me, please don’t lie to me.” Scholar whispered, their heart beating faster and faster every minute. “I think you should leave.”

“Corazón.” Axel tried to reach for his lover, who couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

“Leave. Just leave, Axel.” Scholar muttered, not wanting to deal with him or the situation.

Axel sighed, walking towards the door. As the door closed behind him, he knew that he had lost them. He wanted to scream at them, for not understanding his side but deep down he knew Scholar was right. Axel should have thought about they felt. That didn’t matter anymore, he had already lost Scholar. He had nothing to lose now.

Scholar fell to the ground as they realized what just had happened. They wanted to blame Axel for being selfish and prioritizing his career over his lover, but if they were in his place, they would do the same. He had much to lose.

Both of them could say that they were unfair to each other, but at the end of the day, we all make sacrifices, either for our careers or for our feelings and mental health. Unfairness is part of the world, neither Axel nor Scholar could run away from it.

[rufousnmacska]

Only You

A manorian arranged marriage fic from an anon request -

Do you think you could write an angsty manorian drabble where political/royal pressures and such has Dorian marry someone else + Dorian being mortal has Manon encouraging him? just all that manorian heartbreak+pining. also really love your fics!

This turned into much more than a drabble, but I hope everyone enjoys it! 🤗

Many thanks to @itach-i for beta reading and helping plot things out! ❤️

*

PART ONE

*

Dorian hadn’t noticed the cold until his valet wrapped a furred robe around him. How long had he been standing out here? The sun had just broken from the horizon and his breath was pooling in front of him with each exhale. The valet, a gray-haired man named Ruben, disappeared back into the royal suite, muttering something about the foolishness of young men. Dorian smiled grimly, knowing he was indeed foolish. Worse. He was a godsdamned idiot. And he felt numb, as though his body was somewhere far from here, his mind with it. None of it was due to the winter chill. Staring off towards the hills west of Rifthold, his eyes glanced over the many red and gold banners attached to the city’s roofs, snapping in the wind. Part of him loved seeing his people so excited, so proud for the coming celebration. They’d suffered greatly during the war and had worked hard in the rebuilding effort of the last two years. But that small joy for his kingdom was overshadowed by his own despair. How many times had he stood in this spot, watching and waiting and holding his breath until he caught sight of those silvery wings and moon white hair dancing in the sky? He’d known today would be his last chance to watch for her. And since sleep was a fool’s hope, he’d come out to his balcony and stood here for hours, his gaze on the west, wondering where it had all gone wrong.

***

The rising sun shone brightly off the tops of the castle towers, giving the small group of witches their first real view of Rifthold in the distance. In the past, this sight would leave Manon breathless with anticipation, pushing Abraxos to speed up in her excitement. There had been times when her giddy desperation to reach the castle was almost humiliating, forcing her to contain her emotions before she landed. But no matter her control in those moments, Dorian would greet her on his balcony with a ferocious embrace, seeing right through her mask. He always had. Now, Manon wished that truth away, pushing it deep down, along with the nausea roiling in her gut. As they drew nearer to Rifthold, she could just barely make out the decorations hanging from the castle. It almost brought up the meager breakfast she’d eaten not long ago. With the brightening sky, she realized the entire city was decked out, covered in colorful banners and garlands. Of course, a royal wedding demanded finery. She had expected it, guarded herself against it. But her expectations were dealt a swift blow by the reality now facing her. Manon was on her way to Dorian’s wedding. Not as the bride, but as a royal guest. And she had no one but herself to blame.

*****

Six months earlier…

Manon frowned as Abraxos landed on an unusually empty balcony. Though she’d never asked for it, the space had been rebuilt to provide a large enough area to comfortably hold a wyvern. Wrapping halfway around the king’s tower, the balcony offered magnificent views of the ocean to the east and the mountains to the west. As she dismounted, Manon realized that vast western view was what gave Dorian the ability to know she was almost there. Normally, she wouldn’t notice the view because he would be there, scooping her up and taking her inside to say hello in her favorite ways. But tonight, she and Abraxos were alone.

Quietly, so as not to startle Ruben, Manon stepped through the doorway. She needn’t have bothered. The bedroom was as empty as the outside and she heard no sounds coming through the door to the other rooms. Wondering if he hadn’t received her last message telling him when to expect her, Manon sat on a sofa to wait. She lasted less than five minutes before pacing around the room, then finally deciding to go in search of Dorian.

The office was empty and as she continued through to the exterior door, Manon rolled her eyes at the messy desk. How Dorian managed to keep everything straight in the piles and stacks of papers was beyond her. She wasn’t in the corridor long before she heard angry voices echoing up the stairway. Chaol and Dorian had stopped part way up the tower.

“You can’t afford to just dismiss this threat of rebellion. Lord Frey is an ass, but he has the ear of too many other nobles to be ignored.” Chaol sounded winded. Manon didn’t think he came up here very often since his mobility was tied to his wife’s magic. That he was here now to continue this conversation was significant.

“I refuse to give into his demands,” Dorian growled. “He complains about me leaving the kingdom to Erawan, and yet he brags about how he profited from the war. Whatever gold he has in his coffers did not come from me.”

Manon inched back to the door on silent feet. She knew Dorian’s lords were causing trouble, but he’d refused to go into detail about it with her. The thought of anyone claiming Dorian had willfully abandoned Adarlan to Erawan made her blood boil. The valg king and his armies had left a path of scorched earth and devastation on his march to Terrasen. And Dorian had spent the last two years of his life dedicated to rebuilding his kingdom.

Chaol sighed. “Yes, but what he’s proposed in exchange—”

“What he’s proposed will not be considered,” Dorian interrupted. It was a voice Manon had never heard from him.

After a long pause, Chaol continued. “I know how you feel, Dorian. But we need to put emotions aside and think this through. I’m not saying we go along with it. But right now, we have to look at every option.”

“You say ‘we’ as if you would be the one marrying his daughter.”

Manon gasped, covering her mouth to remain quiet.

“It would be a political alliance,” Chaol reasoned. “You wouldn’t have to end things with—”

Again, Dorian refused to let him finish. “Stop. I’ve told you my decision. We will find some other way to placate the rebellious lords. I am not marrying her.”

Soft footsteps punctuated by the clack of a cane sounded as Chaol left his king and descended the tower. When he was gone, she heard Dorian smash his fist into the stone wall, pieces of mortar crumbling and raining down onto the floor. Manon was paralyzed, her hands balled up into tight fists, eyes wide. And that was how Dorian found her when he took the final steps up to his suite.

***

“You misunderstood. Frey doesn’t have enough clout to demand such a thing.” Dorian was frantic, spending the last two hours trying to explain away what Manon had heard. But her face had frozen into a mask, nothing he said could tease out even the slightest reaction.

“You can’t be so flippant,” she said, the stony resolve in her voice starting to scare him. “He’s offered you an out from civil war. If you care about your kingdom, you must do it.”

He was going mad. First Chaol, now Manon. Where was Yrene to talk some sense into them? He cared about his kingdom and his people. He cared so much that he had no life whatsoever beyond the endless meetings and negotiations and squabbles. His sole joy in life was standing before him now arguing that he should marry someone else.

“If I care?” he asked. “I was prepared to die for it. On many occasions. I would gladly give my life. But I won’t give my heart.”

Manon blinked slowly, and he realized she was looking past him. “You once told me you were prepared to give up your throne for Sorscha. Then the war taught you how foolish, how childish that was. And now, as if you learned nothing, sacrificed nothing, you want to do the same thing. Your life and your heart are one in the same.” Finally, her golden eyes met his. “I am immortal. You are not. You need a human queen to give you heirs and unite your kingdom. I will not play a part in disrupting that.”

Dorian searched for any sign - an unshed tear, a twitch of her lips, a clenched jaw. But there was nothing. Nothing on her face except a cold certainty that left him feeling lost, alone. He knew this was an act, a means of protecting herself. And yet, she was right. When they’d parted ways in Orynth after the war, he’d ignored the desire to ask her for some sort of commitment beyond “We’ll see.” They both had countries to rebuild and had chosen that greater responsibility over personal wishes. Dorian told himself then that they had time. Yes, he was a mortal. But he still had a plentiful well of raw magic on which to draw upon, magic that would give him a much longer life than a normal human. And only two short years later, out of nowhere, everything was falling apart.

No, he would not let his people suffer through war again. But giving in to extortion was not an acceptable alternative. He thought of Aelin, wondering how she would handle a situation like this. With the way her people adored her, he knew she’d never reach this point. Maybe Frey and his allies were right. Maybe he’d left them to fend for themselves out of cowardice instead of prudence. Suddenly, Dorian was exhausted, tired of being king, tired of giving up everything he wanted. He rubbed his eyes until they were red

“You know it has to be this way,” she said, having watched him sort out his thoughts. “No matter what they claim, you’ve never once abandoned this kingdom. Which is why you won’t do it now.”

Dorian stared at the ground, grasping for a way out, but his mind felt like aspic, soft and muddled and useless. “I won’t be a king who takes a queen and still keeps a lover.” The ultimatum was hard to voice, but it was true. Despite his rakish history, he’d never taken a new lover without breaking things off with the old one. If ever an exception was to be made, it would be with Manon. But he would never disrespect her, a queen in her own right, by reducing her to a secret paramour and source of castle gossip.

Still stoic, she replied, “I would not expect you to.”

They had always pushed and teased each other, seeing which one would break first and admit their feelings or give in to the desire. Desperately hoping that they were playing that game now, he surrendered. “I want you, Manon. No one else.”

The slightest hitch in her breathing and a tiny flutter of her eyes sent his hope soaring. But, with a firm tone that meant she would say no more, Manon said, “Marry her, Dorian. Save your throne and keep your people from more bloodshed.”

Before he could respond, she walked out the door and climbed into the saddle still strapped to her wyvern. Manon was in the air without a look back, and Dorian sank to the ground, his head in his hands.

*****

Rumors were flying through the witch city faster than the most agile wyverns. Mere months ago, the witches had expected an announcement from their queen, happy news that their kingdom would be united with Adarlan. Some were not in favor of their queen marrying a human, king or not. Others, especially those in the queen’s council, saw it as a good match. A love match, they claimed. But now, after the royal messenger from Adarlan had arrived, the gossip was spinning out of control.

Manon stared at the thick envelope sealed with red and gold wax, the wyvern stamped into it watching her with a single mocking eye. Dorian had once laughed about how significant it was for his royal crest to include a wyvern, a connection forged between their two kingdoms before they had even met. She’d brushed the thought away at the time, rolling her eyes at his insistence that fate was at work. But now, the memory of his teasing voice sank into her chest, adding to the heaviness and pain that had been choking her since she’d left him on that balcony months ago.

“You don’t have to go. No one would fault you for it. We can send Petrah as a representative,” Glennis said, her voice stiff and formal. It was a tone usually relegated for council meetings, not a conversation with her granddaughter.

She was silent for a long moment, still looking at the envelope. Instead of answering, Manon picked it up and ripped apart the seal. The invitation was written in fanciful blue ink with a border of red berries and ivy stamped into the parchment. She frowned at the flowery words that matched the design, knowing the girl must have been behind all of it. The girl. Manon knew she was likely close to Dorian’s age, but she didn’t care. The future queen of Adarlan would forever be the girl in her mind. Even so, it was impossible to miss her name in elegant calligraphy.

Your presence is requested at the royal wedding of Lady Eveline Frey and His Majesty Dorian Havilliard II, King of Adarlan

Manon stopped reading at his name and continued to flip through the remaining pages. They contained notices of the pre-wedding events that the ‘happy couple’ hoped people would attend, despite the possibility of poor weather at that time of year.

Happy. Her eyes caught on that word and didn’t move. She knew it was a lie. And yet, her old doubts and fears flooded back into her mind. She was still heartless despite her efforts to change, he deserved someone who could sufficiently return his affections. She was immortal, he was not. Manon had reasoned that she would rather lose him like this than watch up close as he aged and died. Rather lose him now, when they could both move on to full lives, than be forced to somehow carry on after his death. A magically extended life or not, she could see no other scenario if she continued with him. And if that was truly how she felt, then she wanted to be there and show him they were both better off this way.

Glennis watched her, likely reading every thought that had gone through her head. For when Manon said she was going, her grandmother’s head dipped in resignation. “Then I will accompany you.”

Manon lost count of her attempts at crafting a reply. She began with a simple list of witches who would attend with her, which morphed into a long drawn out explanation of why she wanted to be there. Then she backtracked into a brief, two sentence response. And even then, she had to make several copies until one was legible. The anguish of what she faced kept showing itself in her shaking hand.

Her eyes keep going back to their names and she found herself wondering what the girl was like. Did she like to read? Could she fight with a sword? Would she stand up to the nobility who claimed Dorian was not worthy of his throne? How would she react to him waking up screaming in the middle of the night from a nightmare in which he’d been torturing people?

That last thought made her feel sick. Not because of the dreams that still plagued him - she was well versed in helping to comfort him, just as he knew how to ease her grief and fear after a nightmare. It was the idea that they’d be sharing a bed that turned her stomach.

Gods what was she thinking? There were two months until the wedding. Was that long enough to forget everything Dorian was to her?

Manon knew the answer. And yet, when she read over their names again, she made herself remember why things had to be this way. Adarlan could not survive another war, especially one which tore it apart from the inside out. This was for the best. His and hers. This wedding would be closure, and afterwards, she could move on, search for a suitable consort. Not to become her king. She could not bear seeing anyone else beside her in that capacity. But finding an acceptable male to produce an heir would help to stabilize her kingdom. If Dorian was forced to set aside his heart to help his people, then she would do the same.

When she gave the reply to Glennis later, her grandmother frowned. “I find myself not wanting to send this.”

“It will be us and two sentinels. That’s all,” Manon said, ignoring the witch’s reluctance. “We will arrive the day before and leave immediately after the ceremony.” As Glennis nodded in agreement, Manon noticed she held a royal envelope in her other hand. “What is that?”

Again, that frown. “It’s from Prince Fennick Whitethorn of Doranelle. A cousin of Rowan’s I believe.”

“Was he in Orynth?” She didn’t recall him being there, but her memories from those early days battling Erawan’s army were foggy.

“I don’t think he was.”

Manon took it, examining front and back. The wax seal matched that of Queen Sellene Whitethorn. “What could this be?” she wondered aloud.

Glennis was already walking away, but she turned and said sharply, “I can only imagine.”

Manon was glad she waited until she was alone to read it, for by the end of it, she was sitting motionless, the letter forgotten on the floor.

Prince Fennick Whitethorn, a cousin to both Rowan and Queen Sellene, had written to express his regards and dismay at the news that the King of Adarlan would marry a noble from his own kingdom. He’d felt compelled to write her directly, offering her his support and friendship since he’d experienced something similar a few hundred years before. As Doranelle’s representative at the festivities, he hoped they could meet in Rifthold. In not so veiled terms, he suggested they might establish an alliance of their own, one that would be amenable to both their countries.

Mere hours after speculating about taking a consort and here she was, staring at a proposal. She couldn’t decide between outrage or amazement at the audacity of the fae male. It had certainly taken balls to approach her this way. And at this time. Picking up the letter, she read it over again. From the sounds of it, Fennick had been left heartbroken in his past. A past that extended even further back than her own. Had she not used her own immortality as a reason that Dorian should wed another? Here was an immortal throwing himself at her, eager for alliance. But she wondered if his interest would wane when he was told that at best, he might become her consort. There was only one man who she’d accept as her king, and he was now outside her reach.

She decided not to send a reply. If the fae prince was there, she would meet with him, see what kind of male he was and whether he might bring anything of worth to an alliance. If not, it would be one less thing to worry about.

That night, as she tried and failed to fall asleep, Manon found herself imagining how she might say goodbye to Dorian. They never used the word, choosing instead to focus only on their hellos. It made a twisted sort of sense that this goodbye, this parting that would be permanent, would be the first and last time it was spoken between them.

***

Yrene found Dorian in his office, watching the brutal winter winds send snow whipping through the air outside his window. Judging from her expression, she knew why he’d sent for her. When her eyes went to the letter on his desk, her shoulders seemed to slump, and she sat down heavily across from him.

“She will be attending,” he said, pushing the short reply across the desk in case she wanted to read it. After immediately recognizing the handwriting as Manon’s, he’d stared at it for a long time. As if there might be some sign of hesitation on her part, he’d examined the note, his eyes running over each stroke of ink, again and again. It was flawless. Just like her, he’d thought miserably.

“I didn’t think she’d actually come. It was meant as a formality between two allies.”

“Perhaps that’s why she has agreed. Formality, nothing more,” Yrene offered.

“How do you think Eveline will handle it?” Despite a wedding date only a few weeks away, Dorian barely spoke to his future queen. Yrene had been acting as a go between, keeping Dorian from having to feign pleasantries and interest in someone who he’d claimed looked and acted like an empty doll.

“She has been trained as a courtier since birth. I’m sure she will be as polite and ladylike as she always is.” Yrene rose and came around the desk, standing in front of the window to make Dorian look at her. “She may appear timid and vapid in front of her father, but she is no fool. She knows what this arrangement is and why it’s happening. Your involvement with Manon was never much of a secret. Eveline knows she is not your choice. But like you, she is doing her duty.”

Dorian didn’t reply. He knew his opinion of her was misguided, that it was based on anger at the situation, at her father. Which was why he kept his distance. If he couldn’t keep himself in check in private or with his friends, how could he expect to refrain from unleashing his rage on her with hurtful words? At least, that’s what he told himself. It was true, but some part of him knew that if he gave in and spent time with her, it would make this all the more real.

Yrene’s eyes darkened as she said, “Lord Frey has a reputation to match Chaol’s father. With her mother gone, I suspect Eveline has not had much control over her life. This would be nothing new to her.”

Now fully ashamed of himself, Dorian only nodded. If there was anything he could understand, it was not being able to defy a bullying parent. A new sense of sympathy filled him as he wondered how desperate Eveline must be for a new life. Freedom from an abusive father would be worth the heavy responsibilities and loss of privacy that came with being a queen. Maybe it was time to make an effort. He couldn’t envision a future where he would ever develop actual feelings for Eveline. But he could at least become her friend.

“What else have you learned about her?” he asked.

Yrene shrugged. “Her education has been extensive, and she knows much about the court and how it runs. She enjoys art and music, embroidery …” She trailed off, trying to think of any other attributes worth sharing. “Horse riding. She always seems to be coming back from the stables when I see her. I’ve gotten the impression her father does not approve of that hobby, but she maintains that being a good horsewoman befits a true lady.”

“So, she does disobey him then …” Dorian smiled slightly, recalling how he used to rebel against his parents. Horse riding was much less scandalous. “Does she need any help with the wedding plans?”

The suddenness of his change in tone had Yrene blinking at him. “I don’t believe so. But I can ask her.”

Dorian stood and walked towards the door. He knew if he didn’t start now, he never would. “I will go ask. I’d like to recommend some music.”

“Wait,” Yrene cried, trailing him out into the corridor. When she caught up to him, she asked, “What are you doing?”

The fear in her eyes almost made Dorian turn around and forget his pledge of moments ago to try and accept this. Yrene had always been the biggest supporter of his relationship with Manon. Whether she was helping them arrange a short, secret escape from their duties, or using her sharp tongue to tear down any detractors of the Witch Kingdom, or giving him advice on how to help Manon recover from the loss of her coven … Yrene had always been there. And now, for the first time, it seemed to be sinking in for her that what she had dreamed for her friends – a happily ever after to rival what she had with Chaol – was impossible. It pained Dorian to see it and he pulled her into a hug.

“If there was another way, Yrene, I’d do it. You know that.”

She hugged him back fiercely, her voice shaking as she said, “I know. She is my friend too, Dorian. And I don’t want to lose her.”

Gods, Dorian thought his heart couldn’t break anymore. And here it was, cracking into even more fragments, each time becoming smaller and smaller. “I know.”

Yrene backed away and let loose a string of curses and insults about Lord Frey that left his eyes wide and mouth agape. He’d never heard her speak like that before, had never thought her capable of such filthy language.

Before she could think to apologize, he laughed. “Well said, Lady!”

Red with embarrassment, Yrene burst into laughter too. When they’d both regained their composure, she said, “Come. I’ll walk with you to Eveline’s rooms and catch you up on her wedding plans.”

“Thank you,” he said, and meant it. “She is as much a pawn in this game as anyone, and she doesn’t deserve my animosity.”

Yrene nodded. “As much as I hate to admit it, she’s a perfectly lovely young woman. It makes things worse in a way.”

When they reached her rooms, Yrene led him inside.

“Your Majesty,” Eveline said brightly. Her dark hair matched her eyes and she gave him a beaming smile. “I was not expecting you today.” She was going through a stack of replies to the invitations.

“Please, call me Dorian. I insist,” he said. “I have one more to add.” Slowly, as if not wanting to give it up, he handed her Manon’s reply. He and Yrene both watched her carefully as she read it.

With the same smile as before, Eveline said, “I’m so pleased the Witch Queen will be attending. None of your other royal friends are able to come due to the weather. Though Doranelle is sending someone.” She paused, thinking. “I can’t remember his name.”

As the two women went through the replies and spoke quietly, Dorian pretended to listen. For one terrible moment, he wondered what the word princeling might sound like from Eveline’s mouth. The thought felt blasphemous, leaving him spinning and trapped between two worlds: the reality sitting next to him, this perfectly lovely woman for whom he felt nothing, and a dream world where he’d wake up happy each morning to snow white hair and golden eyes. A dream that had slipped through his fingers, like the wind gusting wildly outside.

Perfectly lovely. Eveline was lovely, and perfect, with exquisite manners, an impeccable wardrobe, and a distinguished education. But despite that loveliness and perfection, he knew without a doubt that his feelings towards Eveline would never come close to what he felt for Manon. Manon was his mirror, his equal. If beings other than fae were able to have true mates, she would be his.

The thought struck him like a dagger, straight to whatever bits of his heart yet remained. Shaking his head, Dorian tried not to think of Manon, of how this next visit for the wedding would likely be her last. Tried not to dwell on how he would have to live the rest of his life without her, his mate in every way that counted.

Of course, he failed. And when Eveline asked him about what music he’d prefer, Dorian used every ounce of strength he had left to force a smile on his face and answer.

To be continued...

***

Thanks for reading! You can find my writing master list here or on AO3.

It’s been a while since I’ve written and I’m not sure who all is still out there. So if I missed you, or you’d like to be tagged/removed for parts two and three, let me know.

@itach-i @bookishwitchling @manontrashbeak @awesomelena555 @jimetg98 @over300books

[7wanderingpaws]

Always, Yours (1)

(gif not mine) - fluff Baek ㅠ

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

AU: professor Baekhyun, domestic AU, family AU, triplet craze AU

Genre: FLUFF

Warnings: none

This is a sequel to Simply, Yours! You do not need to read it first, but it will give you better understanding of the situation in the story.

Enjoy!

Masterlist / story masterlist

Next -->

<3 <3 <3

“Ta-da!” Sukyeong held out two coupons in front of your face, her excited smile not dazzling enough for you to mimic it. “Let's start working out!”

You were unsure right away for many reasons. First one was the squirming infants on you and on her. Juna was the eldest triplet but she had nothing on the middle one, Junhee, who was currently tapping away on the play mat made out of pastel coloured puzzles in front of the big couch in the spacious living room. Jun was the only boy triplet and the youngest. He was peacefully sitting on your lap, your palms flat on his cute baby tummy while he was looking up at Sukyeong with huge eyes that, the more he grew, the more they resembled his father's. The issue was, where would you put your munchkins while you'd be working out?

Second one was more personal and one that you felt guilty for thinking about, but you couldn't help it. Would you have enough energy to go through sixty minutes of work-out? You were still breastfeeding and pumping, by now completely accustomed to it. It made up a huge part of your day; if you didn't have the infants pressed to your breast, it was the pump attached to you, hidden under your shirt while you were running around the house, trying to get chores done while the babies would nap. Being exhausted was a given, but squeezing in more exhaustion? Doubtful.

Third one was the one that always gave you a slight headache. Travelling through busy Seoul was difficult to do by yourself with triplets. Despite living in a very good apartment at the moment, which was a kind present from the government as a thank you gift for bringing triplets to the aging society, it didn't mean your financial issues disappeared with it. Keeping up the apartment was a huge responsibility; the energies, the water, the common fees, lots of management with the apartments' committee that your husband became part of - it all required money and the lottery ticket you received and made you a billionaire quickly dispersed in your bank account. Another issue were the triplets themselves. Keeping up with them, buying diapers, clothes that they seemed to outgrow in a speed of light - it all required lots of income but there was only one source - Baekhyun, your husband.

As much as you always told him you would find a job to keep the financial stability, you could hardly find a time to sit down and go through job offers, let alone actually prepare for an interview. You knew many companies would refuse you if you as much as mentioned you were a mother.

“Oh, no, I can practically see the turning gears in your brain, mumma friend,” groaned Sukyeong and leaned in to press a loud kiss to Jun's face which in turn made him surprised. That surprise quickly morphed into a huge, toothless grin and you were fast to follow him, too. Jun was the weakest of the triplets and was prone to get more sick. He had a terrible season of harsh refluxes which made you and Baekhyun extremely worried and unhappy. Jun wouldn't be able to accept your milk, vomiting it out right after swallowing. His smiling face meant more to you than anything else in that moment.

“Auntie Sukyeong is being silly, hmm,” you cooed lovingly and you also leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. He had dark baby hair growing, and it always made you realize just how fragile these babies were. “I don't know Sukyeong,” you finally answered her. “I would love to work on my body and gain back my old one but I just can't see it happening.”

She quickly held up her hand. “Before you get into all the details - they have a little baby corner where you can leave the munchkins while we work out! And-and I would come with you! We have a car with Chen, so I'd pick you up and then we don't have to worry about travelling in an over-packed bus.”

You pursed your lips, thinking. “What time is the training?”

“I think it starts at seven in the evening!” she exclaimed and quickly took out her phone to search. “It's lots of cardio and core strengthening so it's very beneficial for you!”

“Hmm, I would have to discuss with Baekhyun,” you murmured. “He comes home late these days but I just want to know his opinion.”

“Make sure you don't get squeezed down by your hubby,” Sukyeong noted and leaned down again to look at Jun. “I know you guys are basically inseparable but he's been working so much since he became a professor. Make sure you don't become second to him over his work.”

“Well, he is the youngest ever, so I understand he wants to try his best.” You wanted to question her words - Baekhyun never prioritized his work over you or your children. He was just about to be thirty and you were just in the middle of your twenties, you didn't think you would reach that kind of crisis in your relationship yet.

“Yeah, but he doesn't have to do the hapkido training in the evening, yet he decided to do it,” she reminded gently, and touched Jun's cheek, “so you can do just the same, right? You are always with the babies and spend lots of time by yourself. You deserve to have a little time dedicated to you and, of course, me!”

You smiled but it didn't quite reach your eyes. Sukyeong wasn't wrong but you knew Baekhyun was only trying to start off his professor career as good as he could. He upped his game as a cool professor by always wearing outstanding suits - dark red, striped, the list went on. He looked very, very handsome and it sometimes even pained you to let him go to school like that. He told you it was to make sure people remembered him in the department and for his students to think he was cool; a trust-worthy professor to whom they could always turn to; a cool professor with whom they could have a good workout session in the evening and try to defeat him in hapkido. It was all great, but his work brought you back a tired husband.

“Maybe you're right. I will talk to him tonight. When do the classes start?”

“Next week! Tuesday and Thursday! I think it's the perfect timing!”

“Okay, okay,” you laughed. Your best friend could always make you giggle when you needed it. “I'll talk to him and let you know, hm?” Just as you finished the sentence, you jumped to your feet, trying to prevent Junhee from climbing over the small coffee table. “Aren't you a little wild girl? You must be after your father,” you breathed and Sukyeong laughed.

<3

Baekhyun returned to a quiet apartment that evening. It was past eight and it meant triplets must have been asleep by then. He felt guilty right away, because he missed their bedtime. It wasn't like it was set - they woke up enough times during the night for Baekhyun to be by their side, but he still wanted to be part of the evening routine like bathing them, being next to you when you fed them, changing their nappies and their clothes. It was all the little things, but he was missing out on them.

You were lying on the couch, your eyes closed, your arm over your eyes to block the light out.

He crouched next to you, taking your hand in his. “Honey, I'm home,” he murmured gently, watching you remove your arm and smiling down at him tiredly.

“Hey, baby. Let me heat up the dinner,” you said, sitting up right away, but Baekhyun stopped you from standing up.

“Sorry I came home late again,” he said guiltitly. He brought your hand to his lips, kissing it a few times while looking intently into your eyes.

“It's fine,” you sighed and cradled his cheek. He leaned into the touch and eventually pulled on your hand to move closer to him, which you did. He met you half-way, pressing his lips to yours. He prolonged the kiss by puckering his lips several times, making little kissy noises that made you pull away and smile widely. Baekhyun immediately grinned.

“How was your day, princess? You look very tired,” he noted, slight worry etched in his features.

You shook your head and pressed another kiss to his lips. “The usual, you know it. Sukyeong was over and we talked,” you told him, and you wanted to bring up the topic of you attending workout classes when he said:

“Good, good, I’m glad she kept you company. I am in charge of some doctoral students now, so I need to lecture them over the summer break, but otherwise I made it clear that I want a full summer holiday so I can be with you more,” he informed you and nuzzled your nose.

You sighed in content. “Do whatever you think is the best, Baekhyun,” you whispered, your breath hitting his lips. Your hand reached out and tucked on his tie. “I just want you to enjoy your work.”

“I know you do but you and the babies always come first. Always,” he emphasized and this time brought both of his hands up to your cheeks and kissed you again, more eagerly. “I missed you,” he murmured and dived back in, nibbling on your bottom lip.

Humming in pleasure, you shimmied yourself closer to the edge of the sofa so that Baekhyun was crouching between your legs, your hand untying his tie. “I always miss you,” you murmured between the kisses.

He kissed you one last time and smiled. “I don’t want dinner. Let’s just cuddle, hm?” He flickered his eyes up to yours, his thumb running over your cheek. “I had a light dinner in school anyway.”

You nodded. You felt like your body weighed another twenty kilograms so you didn’t take much to convince.

After all, finishing the day a little earlier with Baekhyun by your side in the bed was always the best way to wind off. You found yourself in his embrace under the sheets, his black shirt hiked up as your arm rested around his middle.

He smooched your temple. “Was Jun okay today?” he asked quietly into the darkness of the room.

Baekhyun had texted you many times during the day to double check on his son but he still had to ask to make sure nothing happened in the short time he wasn't in touch with you.

You looked up at him. “He was okay, thank god. I hope that reflux is finally over.”

“I hope so too,” he sighed and kissed you again. “It’s so heartbreaking to know he is struggling to receive food.”

Hiding your face in his neck, you pouted against it. Everything about babies was scary. Both of you got used to them and to the crazy lifestyle but anything that would go wrong would throw you off the boat. Jun always needed special attention. “It will be all fine, right?” you murmured against his skin and as a reply, he tightened his embrace around you.

“It must be. Jun is a healthy and sturdy boy just like me, hm?” he joked.

You breathed a small laugh. “Yes, you're absolutely right.” Pushing yourself up, Baekhyun's arm loosened and he looked at you with questioning eyes when you faced him. “Actually, I wanted to ask you - Sukyeong has a coupon for these workout classes. They start next week at 7pm. I'd be away on Tuesday and Thursday for a couple of hours. Would you mind if I go for it with her?”

Baekhyun's eyes kept flickering to your lips as you spoke and you felt your heart swell whenever he looked at you like that. He finally met your eyes and brought his hand up to brush your hair out of your face. “You should totally do it if you feel like it, sweetheart. It's your body and I know you don't get to move around much when you're at home a lot. What kind of workout is it?”

You pulled a thinking face. “She mentioned core strengthening and cardio.”

“That's very good. You should definitely work on those to keep your body strong,” he advised in a gentle tone. “But just know that if it will be too hard, you don't have to keep doing it, alright? Your body is perfect and as long as you're healthy, nothing else matters.”

Baekhyun always made sure to provide reassurance even when you didn't ask for it. You smiled widely and leaned in, hugging him. You were literally splattered all over him and he brought his leg over yours to accomodate you better. “Thank you.”

He hummed and kept playing with your hair that managed to grow quite a lot in the meantime. Even though it was falling out like crazy after giving birth and your hair brush gave you a heart attack whenever you made a single swipe with it, you didn't pay it much attention. Being so busy with the kids, you hardly took notice of how you actually looked.

“What about the munchkins? I'll try to make sure I'll be home early but if I can't make it where will you put them?” he asked again.

“Sukyeong said there is a baby corner where mothers can put their kids for the time being.”

“Is it three-month-old-baby safe though?”

“I will try to contact them to double-check, alright?”

He hummed again in reply.

“You trust me with them, right?”

His hand stopped brushing your hair. “What kind of question is that? Of course I trust you with them, baby,” he replied quickly. “You're their mother. If there is anyone who knows them well, it's you.” He paused and you snuggled yourself even closer, making Baekhyun chuckle. “But you know what?” He leaned into your ear. “You'll always be my baby. My little lady.”

His breath tickled you on the ear and you laughed, even his words tickling your heart. He laughed along and he rolled you over so that he was on top. He started dropping sweet butterfly kisses all over your face and you scrunched your eyes close, emotions of love, joy, contentment making you feel like a millionaire thanks to your husband.

“You don't have anything to reply to oppa?” teased Baekhyun and smooched you under your ear. “Tell oppa you love him.” Another kiss on your neck. “Tell oppa he is the best.”

You kept giggling. “Baekhyun c'mon! Stop!”

“Not until you say what I want to hear,” he refused with a cheeky smile, kissing your lips loudly.

You gasped when you felt his hand under your shirt, tickling you on your side. You squirmed under him, trying to suppress the laughter that was making your muscles hurt. He was being a big tease and you knew he wouldn't stop until he had it his way.

“Oppa, I love you,” you told him through laughter and he stopped tickling you right away, suddenly very attentive to your words, “oppa, you are the best,” you said breathlessly, reciprocating the eye contact. “I'm oppa's baby,” you added and felt your cheeks heat up.

Baekhyun observed you with a smile. “That's right,” he murmured eventually and leaned in, kissing you on the lips. “You're oppa's baby girl,” he said in a low tone, his lips moving against yours. He captured your lower lip in a slow, sensual manner that had your insides ignite with passion. You closed your eyes and followed his lead, his kiss purely there for the sake of showing you love rather than leading to something more.

It was only nine in the evening, but it was by far the nicest time you had in a while; your triplets sleeping, your husband home and only yours until work would steal him away from you, and he did his best to make you feel loved, appreciated, beautiful and wanted.

<3

Morning came much earlier for you. Junhee was up at three which you found quite good since they slept ever since you put them to sleep the night before and therefore enabling you and Baekyhun to have some alone time. 

Quickly grabbing the intercom so that Baekhyun wouldn't wake, you went to their room, the three baby cribs and a small dimmed light welcoming you. Junhee was crying, rolling in her place which was her new favourite pastime to do since she learned how to keep her back up and straight.

“Shh, shh, sweetie, don't cry.” You took her in your hands and rocked her in your arms while you checked the remaining two infants. Jun was wide awake, his eyes looking back at you with interest which you found funny, because he didn't make a single peep, while Juna was about to follow her younger sister, her small face already scrunching up at the sight of you.

Just when you were about to reach for her while you were balancing Junhee in your other arm, you felt a pair of familiar ones on your waist, stopping you. “Let me,” Baekhyun rasped into your ear, sleepily kissing your cheek. He walked up to Juna and brought her out of her crib, the baby looking tiny on his broad chest. She started to wail just in time, and you and Baekhyun exchanged looks that spoke volumes - you would be up for a while.

There was a small corner in their room with two rocking chairs that Baekhyun insisted on buying for feeding time. While you sat down in one, Baekhyun went out to heat up some breast milk you pumped earlier, so that Juna could feed.

You adjusted your shirt and within seconds Junhee attached her tiny mouth to your breast, her eyes closing in delight as she sucked on your milk. Smiling, you made yourself comfortable and closed your eyes too, sleep quickly chasing you down.

Baekhyun appeared next to you with a bottle that contained the heated up milk and had Juna eat. Just like Junhee, Juna closed her eyes as she diligently drank, making Baekhyun's features soften with affection. He had her lying on his thighs, her tiny feet resting against his stomach while he held up the bottle for her. Occasionally, her small hand would tap against Baekhyun's long fingers which you found endearing. His index finger was bigger than her whole hand. “Jun doesn't seem to be hungry,” he commented quietly as he looked at Junhee in your arms. “Did he eat last night?”

“Yeah, he ate well,” you replied in a low voice. “I think he just isn't a crybaby,” you said with a chuckle. “These two sisters keep pushing him aside all the time.”

Baekhyun looked down at Juna. “Well, they better not. You will have to take care of your younger siblings, miss Byun Juna,” he told his daughter in a cooing voice. “So you better be a good older sister.”

You shook your head at his words and he laughed, sending you a wink. “You should go and rest, babe,” you told him after a while, “you have to get up early.”

“I'm not leaving all the work to you. We are in this together, right?” he said just as he always did. That was his iconic sentence that always made you effectively shut up. He was right, and you shouldn't have been taking away his father duties, but you knew he had a lot of work. Eventually, he would be nearing his limit and you didn't want that.

“That's more like it,” Baekhyun commented when you didn't reply.

You only managed to smile, closing your eyes again. Despite getting used to this lifestyle, it still made you feel uncomfortable how the babies would bite down on your nipple or the small cramps you'd get in your abdomen while feeding. Also-

Wetness was what made you open your eyes to look at the unoccupied breast. Before you could say something, Baekhyun spoke up: “Should I bring Jun? Or the pump?” His worried eyes were looking at the leaking milk, your shirt quickly becoming drenched.

You sighed, feeling helpless. If some mothers weren't able to produce milk, you were the exact opposite. There were times where you had to let out milk even though you already fed, even though you already had enough milk in storage for later. It kept pouring out of you and you didn't have other choice but to release it. The entire family could easily feed off of you at that rate. 

It would have been okay, but the pain of dried up milk in your breasts was something you were scared of, so making sure you could let the milk flow was important.

“Can you please bring me the pump?” you told your husband absent-mindedly and Baekhyun was fast to cooperate while keeping Juna in his arms so she wouldn't be disturbed.

And just like that, you stayed up till early morning until the triplets fell back asleep - you waited for Jun to be hungry, and finally lied down when Baekhyun was getting ready for work. He even made sure the babies' nappies were fresh.

With swollen eyes, you watched as he dressed into one of his striped suits, looking like a Burberry model. He turned to look at you as he buttoned up his white shirt, his hair smoothed back, revealing his forehead. “How are you feeling?” he asked you gently, walking over to your side.

You smiled. “I'm good, don't worry, babe. Your lunch box is in the fridge, don't forget it.”

“You didn't have to prepare it,” he clicked his tongue, “just make sure you eat your food, alright, sweetheart?”

Nodding, you sighed and Baekhyun turned to put on his cardigan. “I'll be off. I'll try to come home early, hm?”

“Okay,” you mumbled, bewitched at the sight of him. “Kiss me before you go, handsome professor Byun.”

He gave a half-smile and walked over to you, leaning down so his face was hovering above yours. “Of course I would kiss you before I go. I can't leave my precious princess without a kiss,” he whispered, making you smile amorously. He pressed a sweet kiss to your puckered lips, making sure to prolong it. “Rest, okay?”

You nodded. “Another one,” you demanded and Baekhyun laughed, though complied. “Mm, I'll miss you.”

“I'll miss you too,” he sighed and pecked your forehead as a final kiss. “Text me, hm? I'll go say bye to the munchkins, too. Gotta go now,” he straightened up and gave you a smile before turning and leaving the bedroom.

You heard him shuffle around the apartment before he left for his long day at work.

Deciding to sleep until the babies would need you, you turned around and nuzzled your face into Baekhyun’s pillow, his gentle scent mixed with faint baby detergent pulling you into a fluffy cloud of dreams. That was Baekhyun to you.

<3

A/N: Hi, welcome back to the first chapter. It will slowly all start to roll, but if you read Simply Yours, it is anything but drama after drama. Expect a similar concept too, hope you enjoyed the FAMILY in this chapter!

Thanks for reading!

Please try to comment! I appreacite likes, but a word or two never hurt! ^^

[rinharu-purple]

Emmm 👉👈 can i request Gavin's spring festival date analysis?! Ehem especially when Gavin said "I've waited a long time for today.." 💙

But Of course if you're not busy.. I'll wait patiently.. I just.. love read your analysis 💙 like i can feel your love and dedication for Gavin.. a lot of Gavin stan is very smart and loyal.. just like Gavin itself

Hello nonny and of course you can! Thank you for your lovely ask and reading my posts. It makes me really happy to hear this 💞 I can also double up what you've said, Our birdcop is smart and loyal and I really love being a part of Gavin-standom which includes so many talented writers, artists, analysts and it has @cheri-translates! There are so many great posts from various accounts and one can feel the love, passion and loyalty towards Gavin in all of them! 💫

An analysis on Spring Festival date is so overdue, so it is me who should apologize for not having written this before. I will more than gladly include your request scene, I hope you enjoy it ^_^

MC Testing Waters: Spring Festival Date

At the beginning of the game, MC is a young woman with lots of love in her heart, however without much experience in love. Fortunately this starts to change when she meets LIs as adults.

Spring Festival Date takes place after Firework Date and before the Romantic Date, although the timeline is quite messy, which I will come to by the end of this analysis.

If you look closely, you can see MC checking Gavin's romantic feelings towards her by using this "boyfriend game" and also uses the opportunity to get beyond his hardened exterior and touch his vulnerable side 💗

Spoilers start below this line

This date comes to, because MC lies to her aunt about having a boyfriend to avoid arranged blind dates and even promises to visit her on New Years with her boyfriend. Speculatively it seemed like a solid play, until...the time literally came.

Thinktanking about a way out of this with Kiki and Willow, they weight different options as to tell them she broke up with him, leave the city or call in sick but then the best wingman on earth Minor saves the way and suggests that she just takes a "fake boyfriend" with her, surely enough with Gavin in his mind.

MC goes through her contacts list to search for a suitable candidate, but her heart Whispers her the answer by skipping a beat as her fingertips scroll down to one name.

... Gavin

As such... MC has chosen her player for the game and Gavin's Heart Trial with MC's family commences...

---Press Start---

Creativity Test

Unluckily Gavin actually shows up for this highly important date late, with his phone off! From the storyline he arrives a couple of minutes late to MC’s aunt's place, thus starting the game one point behind. He was late because he was buying presents for the whole family! With the spot on gifts which are well received by the family because they're expensive, imported goods, limited products, cute and thoughtful he makes up for the lost points.

But it's just the first stage and he has 3 more stages to clear, the pressure is slowly rising.

This gray suit has a lovely story behind it, which you can find by the end of the story.

Decision Test

Gavin has passed the creativity test with flying colors, but in the second stage more challenging questions are on the menu. The eldest aunt wants to know Gavin's age, occupation, salary(?!) and possessions(?!). The last two questions are fairly over the line and is a no-no in my country. Asking people about their financial status as well as bragging about it is perceived as rude and insolent, that's why the way Gavin answers these questions skillfully without bragging about his wealth adds just another brick on my Gavin-temple.

Age: 24

Occupation: Police Officer

Salary: Covers the bills

Possessions: A flat in the city and a motorcycle.

In my Prank date analysis, I've mentioned about Gavin's ability to deal with impertinence and also here, he stays friendly, but only answers the questions necessary to get through with the situation. MCs family is checking whether he's wealthy enough to take care of MC (which is sad that in the 21st century that in some countries women need to be financially secured by men). So Gavin just gives them just the right enough of information to pass the test and pass he does.

There is another aspect to his way of answering though. You see, Gavin is an unmaterialistic man. He doesn't care about money or any other meta. He doesn't touch upon the fact that he's coming from a wealthy family, or that he inherits his grandparents house or that he can afford designer dresses, overseas travels or gems without giving a second thought. That shows just how humble Gavin is and I love him for it. What defines him is not his wealth, nor does he allow anyone define him on his financial status. It's his character, the values he stand for, the vision he embodies, the way he treats MC.. Ehm.. And.. His champion body and drop dead gorgeous looks (comes as an extra;))

But the game is far from over, because the family council is now going to challenge him on...

Affinity Test

This is where things get rosy as the family would like to know how they've met and whether they've been together since high school.

Look, Gavin is actually not playing a game, but living the moment. He is well aware of the fact that once he and MC become an official pair, he will be standing on the same spot a year later. He is serious...

So when they ask about their affection, he gives them his genuine answer and confesses his crush on her during high school and says that they've been going out since fall. This dazzles MC, as if she hasn't been dazzled enough lol.

The three glasses of drink he gulps surely has a role in this sincerity and taking three glasses of a drink as a punishment also becomes a tradition for MC and Gavin in the future.

And so, he proudly passes the Affinity Test with flying colors, effortlessly. Only one more stage and he's done it!

Execution Test

Every hero has his moment, when the fight takes a gloomier turn against his favor and the odds don't look good as before when he gets a strong blow, that is when the family hits him with the question "Don't you get alone well with your family?".

This is Gavin's weak spot, his cryptonite, his bleeding wound and MC's family just pressed on it. What makes this scene so heartbreaking is not just the topic itself and we know why it is a sensitive topic for Gavin but also that Gavin actually tries to signal them that this is not his favorite topic. He tells them he doesn't go home for holidays (friendly warning number 1), the aunties pushes by telling him to take some meal with him to which he replies "Thanks, but that's okay. I've been away for a long time" (friendly warning number 2) the family pushes further and as a one last resort he tells them that during college he rarely went there and spent holidays working afterwards (friendly warning number 3). Sadly the auntie than ignorantly ask whether his family doesn't worry about him and now because he's given three fair warning shots which, he downright gives them a brief and resolute answer:

- No.

That's usually the latest where people with common sense stop digging in further. Unfortunately then the auntie asks whether he doesn't get along well with his family to which Gavin no longer responds. This is the perfect way of dealing with such people and Gavin has a very intuitive talent for dealing different people from different mindsets. Give them three friendly and fair warnings, still pushing? Then give them a last chance by one final brief and to the point answer, they choose to ignore the signal? Stop interacting, you can only waste time beyond this point.

The only problem with this situation here, is that these people are not just somebody, Gavin wants to win these people over, so he cannot just ignore them. But also he cannot do it without a timeout, so he goes to grab some wine. (God it makes me so sorry everytime he has to face his family drama or is misjudged. I just wanna hug him bring him hot cocoa, give him a backrub and bring spicy food for him. Luckily he has MC ^_^)

But let's not talk only about about Gavin, because MC is struggling too. And we should recognize her stick up for him with the most cherishing words:

-Auntie, you got it wrong. He is a decent and pure man and has come to my aid many time and in quite dangerous circumstances.

When she comes back however cannot find Gavin, once she does, a heartwarming moment blooms between them.

This scene is very crucial in Gavin and MC's relationship because this is the first time MC sees Gavin tired and flustered. She feels sad for him but also happy for herself, for she feels as though she gets closer to him, thus seeing the real Gavin. By the way she show him her genuine care, Gavins heart melts and kisses the back of her hand as a gesture and so the first intimate moment involving them having a kiss ensues. Furthermore, they show each other their mutual care, which brings them one step closer and this gives Gavin the only courage he needs to tackle the situation.

When our hero gets the courage and the stamina he need from his girl, nothing can stop him now. Having gatherer his strength, Gavin returns to the dinner table:

“I am so happy to be here with you all today. In fact, I haven't felt this atmosphere of family in a long time. I have a very strict father and a brother I seldom see...I don’t even know when I turned into such a loner. Eating alone, sleeping alone, doing everything alone...until I met her. It was a beautiful autumn day. The gingko leaves were floating in the wind. I was also going through a pretty dark time. But she saved me before I hit bottom...It’s she who told me I could live a stronger life. And it’s also she who told me I could live a more tender life. I never felt lonely before, until I met her. I started to get used to star-gazing with her, having dinner with her, spending the New Year’s with her. In the future, I'll give it my all to stay with her, to take good care of her and love her. I wanna make up many times over for all the times I wasn't there”

MC’s heart stopped, aunties eyes teary, the elder Aunt want his actions to back up these words and thus Gavin has a pass from MC's family. Now that he's won the game, it's time to collect his prize.

After they leave MC's aunt's house, our lovebirds walk together in the night full of fireworks and Gavin tells Mc that Minor has mentored him on being the perfect son-in-law, hence he was late. He also asks her what she would do if he didn't show up, to which she says that her intuition says that he won't fail her and he murmurs quietly:

- I've waited a long time for today.

Of course he doesn't repeats himself when MC asks him about what he just said. But that's what kept him going all night long.

He has waited for six whole years to meet her again, to stand by here, take good care of her and love her. Tonight, he could do them all by being her "boyfriend", giving his word to her family and having their blessings. He could see that she also cares a lot for him, worries about him and wants to be there for him. He landed his lips for the first time on her delicate skin and could give her warmth.

He could finally confess his feelings for her and say the genuine things he will only say to her.

So yes, he has waited for a long time for this moment to come and when it came, he made sure to grab it tightly.

----—----—---

Timeline issues:

- The order of the dates in the game doesn't always reflect the real course of events. The grey suit that Gavin wears is actually bought after Romantic Date, which takes place after this date.

-Even though MC plans this whole game to avert blind dates, but she still gets set up later on a blind date by another aunt lol.

Thank you once again for your patience nonny and I hope that the analysis proves to be worthy of your wait 💗

Masterlist

For MC's confession let me take you here

For Gavin and MCs relationship milestones here

For a fun trivia about this date you can click here

[goineedsleep]

i am cursed, and also delusional

i got sick recently(not covid, i am a fully vaccinated bitch), so i'm writing this on caffeine and pain

i hope you enjoy the shitshow

-trials of octopath is todays awful fusion idea

-for those of you unaware of trials of manas existence, it's a lot like octopath(and vice versa). trials is a game where you pick 3 characters out of 6 possible options to play as, and the story changes drastically depending on who's in your party. im' gonna have to cut a couple of the octopaths to fit this AU, but i'll be putting them elsewhere- you'll see them eventually

-i'm not even getting into story pairs! every two characters in trials of mana has the same final boss. if you put two characters together who have the same story(say, the fighter/duran or the mage/angela), it gives more information on those characters and their shared story.

-we have olberic the fighter(replacing duran) first. after an invasion of his home, he trusts erhardt with protecting it while he chases after the perpetrator

-then there's cyrus the mage(replacing angela)- he is the prestiged son of a famed scholar. he cannot use the same powerful magic his father could, and thus is chosen to be executed by him. cyrus unleashes enough magical power to teleport out of that situation(this happens in-game), and runs away to seek guidance from the Archbishop of the Church of the Sacred Flame.

-now we have therion the thief. he is a close friend of the leader of the Thieves Guild of the Ravuses, a man known as Heathcote. Darius, an "old friend " of his, saved Heathcotes life from being missing. this results in Heathcote acting very weird from the day he returns- at least, if you ask therion. Heathcote has never expressed the want to start a nation and invade another country until now! he gets help from Heathcotes son, the doctor of their group, to find out what's going on with Heathcote. It turns out... that Darius is using mind control to manipulate Heathcote to follow his bidding. man come on therion was just starting to not punch you in the face every night just when you were about to fall asleep again

-Darius uses dark magic to seal Alfyn away to another realm, and frames Therion for the kidnapping. Therion can't tell the truth about the situation either or kill Darius- Cordelia, Alfyns little sister, will die as well if he even dares due to a cursed article of clothing given to her by Darius.

-luckily for him, Tressa has mercy on him a couple months later and breaks him out of jail. therion decides to investigate the curse in order to find out how to stab Darius in the most affective way imaginable. Also to save Cordelia, but that isn't his priority at the moment

-now we have the warrior princess Primrose

-she's the captain of the woman-led guard of the country of Azelhart

-her mother died during childbirth whilst giving birth to her little sister tressa, and so she decided to take care of her to the best of her ability. her father is very proud of her for taking charge like this, but he still is the parent in this version. he is the one that technically raised tressa since I do not want to force primrose to parent someone when she's like 6

-primrose was just a dedicated babysitter

-she wants tressa to practice her dancing, and when she finds her she's being held at knifepoint by 2 thieves. the barrier protecting Azelhart from enemy forces is broken, tressa is kidnapped, and -Azelhart is no more. Now Primrose is no princess or noble- she's just Primrose

-She goes to the Priest of Light so she can pray for forgiveness from Aelfric before she kills all of the Ravus thieves guild

-H'aanit is the princess of the werewolves. they've been oppressed and marginalized by humans for years, so they've taken up the forest as their home. she's a hunter like most of them are, yet she's never been able to harness the power of her bloodline: it may be due to her being half-human, but she's never been capable of transforming into a beast like her brethren.

-she meets the snow leopard Linde in front of her dead mothers corpse, and starts feeding it

-she has a new pet now -linde and herself work together and they sometimes do better than full-blooded werewolves when they work together

-Z'aanta forms an alliance with Mattias, a man who's worked with the Church of the Sacred Flame a million times -immediately following the forming of this alliance Linde attempts to kill H'aanit -H'aanit doesn't wish to hurt her friend, but she has no choice: she turns into a werewolf for the first time in her life and loses control of her thoughts in her despair

-oh welp the cat's dead(I'M SO SORRY LINDE YOU ARE A VERY GOOD KITTY) -H'aanit heads back home to cry for a minute... then she overhears Mattias admitting that he killed her cat -H'aanit attempts to attack him, and then gets yeeted to Jadd -good job ham, you complete and utter pokemon trainer

-last up, we've got ophilia -she's the adoptive daughter of the Archbishop of the Sacred Flame -she hears Lianna's gonna be going somewhere, she gets an awful vision of Lianna never being seen again following this mission, and goes with her in secret -Lianna gets kidnapped regardless by Mattias -so ophilia decides to find this guy and punch him in the face

-alright that's all of the character backstories

-THANK GOD

-all of these people(save alfyn and tressa, who is being held hostage by the ravus thieves guild) go to jadd first- h'aanit is yeeted there by mattias

-h'aanit notices that her people are invading this town and will be invading Flamesgrace- her next goal is to stop this -olberic wants to stop this as well, so he and h'aanit team up first

-Primrose looks for Tressa in some desperate search, and meets Cyrus during this search. they decide to journey together to Wendel, figuring going together would be better than being alone -they think it's a dumb idea to fight the beastmen, so they decide to escape at night like the bartender suggested

-ophilia finds therion at the bar while looking for food, and overhears his story while she eats soup and bread -she leads him to Wendel, wanting to do help another adventurer before she goes off into the unknown herself

-olberic and h'aanit free the town from beastmen and go to the cavern that leads to flamesgrace(which i am going to keep calling Wendel on accident because that's what it is in trials, srry) -they get there and there's a barrier -archbishop put it up to protect them from the beastmen, and then h'aanit and olberic find the lakeside town of astoria -the villagers keep mentioning how a divine light has started appearing in the area, and olberic shrugs it off and takes a very long nap. the poor man is very tired -ophilia and therion head there as well and follow the light to where it falls- ophilia touches this flame and has to fight a giant robot w/ therion -they win, and ophilia doesn't see it anymore -she shrugs and heads back to astoria, where beastmen have wrecked the town. it is g o n e -ophilia holds a memorial service for them, where she tells therion about how she's a cleric of the Sacred Flame -therion shrugs and suggests they keep going. they don't have much time before it's day and the beastmen attempt to attack Flamesgrace, too

-h'aanit, olberic, cyrus and primrose are having a picnic at the barrier when ophilia and therion arrive -ophilia attempts charging into the barrier, and then it sets on fire and they can all go through -after a long and awkward icebreaker, they all decide to travel together. it's pretty dangerous out there anyways, with the beastmen attacking and atlasdams rumored invasion of Hornburg. the ravus nation is also a major worry, therion reminds them, but they arent' gonna be in the area for a while

-these guys make it to flamesgrace to receive advice on what's coming next -olberic is told to become stronger before challenging atlasdam, and not to do so alone. he continues being in the group due to this -cyrus is told to learn how to understand his emotions- magic is not the forms they teach at school, but rather what comes from the heart. he decides to accompany the travelers so he can escape imprisonment by atlasdam forces -therion first learns of how the dimension Alfyn's been tossed into is inaccessible by humans. it is the birthplace of galdera, and is a realm of which sinners reside after they've lived their lives. Alfyn is probably not going to last very long in this realm- he's as good as dead -therion is then told of how ancient and deadly of a magic the cursed choker is, and that darius is not human. what he is is a mystery, and to save cordelia he must find the sword of aelfric. he cannot save alfyn, so he may as well save his sister -primrose is advised to find her sister and that if she chooses to destroy the ravus nation, aelfric will not support her actions, though they are understandable. if she finds the Sword of Aelfric, she may gain the power she needs to destroy the Ravus nation. -h'aanit is told that Linde will live on through her, and that Mattias is a warlock of Galderas. he has been rejected by the Order of the Sacred Flame as a result, though he does lie very affectively. to save the Kingdom of S'warkii, she must take down Mattias. and since mattias is going after the Sword of Aelfric she may as well accompany Ophilia and make Mattias's efforts worth nothing at all -ophilia is told to find Lianna, since she has been chosen by the Ember. she is now the only person who can rise the Sword of Aelfric from its resting place

-the Sword of Aelfric is hidden within the Sanctuary of Aelfric, which needs an insane amount of power to be opened. normally this power can be leached from the Aelfric Stones, but doing so could let loose ancient and terrible demons. therefore, the 8 gods that reside next to these stones need to be called upon in order to open the portal to the Sanctuary. -Therion suggests going after Aelfric first, since he's the closest one to them. after that, they need to find someone who knows where the rest of them are and also how to get there -they all agree that it's a good plan, but cyrus brings up that the Aelfric Stones each belong to a specific nation or people. going there and borrowing the gods power would be going after large civilizations that have grown around these stones -olberic suggests that they plan this out later, when they have more information and time -they all agree and go ahead to find the first of 8 gods

[seungmoroll]

Heather | Hwang Hyunjin

Word count: 3.8k

Genre & tags: angst, dance team au, brother!Minho, mentions of other idols

A/N: this is the 4th part of the Heather series, you can read the others here.

Shining through the city with a little funk and soul

I’ma light it up like dynamite, whoa

Pants could be heard from all around the room showcasing the hard work and dedication everyone had put into the dance. Your eyes filled with awe as you sit off to the side. After 5 seconds of listening to their tired pants, you stand up and bust out in applaud, and soon the rest of them join you.

“You guys looked amazing! That was the best run so far. There’s no way any other team can beat you guys this Friday.” The looks and smiles on their faces let you know that they’re thankful for your words. However, you don’t have enough time to fully appreciate the moment as a body crashes into yours, forcing you back onto the sofa.

“Ugh, get off of me Minho.” Unfortunately for you, your attempt to push him off only makes him put even more of his weight on top of you.

“Can’t you let your tired brother rest for a moment?” You had the pleasure, note the sarcasm, of calling Minho your brother. You swear it’s his life mission to annoy you, however, there are perks of having him as your brother. One of them being that he has to drive you around everywhere, and another one being that you get to hang out at the dance studio that Minho goes to, which means you get to see your favorite people in the world. Speaking of favorite people, the sound of heavenly laughter fills your ears, and you turn to see Hyunjin laughing at yours and Minho’s antics. Gaining enough strength thanks to Hyunjin’s beautiful laugh, you manage to push Minho off of you, making him land on the sofa next to you with a groan.

“Gosh Minho, your big butt was suffocating me.”

“So, you admit I got a big butt?” All you want to do is knock the cockiness off his face, but you choose to be good, since Hyunjin was only a few feet away.

“You’re insufferable.”

Plopping himself on the sofa next to you, Hyunjin says, “I’m surprised you two haven’t killed each other yet.”

“Our mom says we can only kill each other after 10pm.” Is what you and Minho say synchronously, causing for laughter to erupt from Hyunjin.

“You guys are basically the same person.” Taking offense to his comment, you playfully smack him, “Don’t insult me like that.”

“Ow, you can’t hit precious things like me.” You roll your eyes at his dramatics. A year ago, if someone were to tell you that you would’ve had feelings for Hwang Hyunjin, you would’ve laughed in their face.

Hyunjin was an interesting character, not everyone realized that. Everyone only saw him for his exterior; they only focused on his visuals. Yes, you agree that he’s handsome, heck, you were sure that he sparkled sometimes, but that’s not what made you like him. Behind his looks, was someone that was so in touch with his feelings and wasn’t afraid to show them. One night, you had to go to the dance studio and wait for Minho who was helping Hyunjin with a dance, and before you had barged into the practice room, you saw Hyunjin and Minho sitting on the ground with Hyunjin crying his eyes out. He was crying because he was stressed out and he just needed to release everything. You didn’t make your presence known, but instead you watched as your brother comforted him. That’s when your perception of him changed; he wasn’t the mysterious beauty you thought he was.

“You’re coming with us after the competition, right?” It was tradition for the team to get a meal together after a dance competition.

“Duh, Minho’s my ride home.” That wasn’t your only reason why you were going. You actually enjoyed hanging out with the team.

“Good, I like it when you hang out with all of us.” His statement makes you blush, and you hope that Hyunjin doesn’t realize it’s because of him. From your other side you hear Minho scoff, making you smack him in the chest.

“You’re still doing my hair, right?” Ever since Hyunjin started growing out his hair, he’s been finding out new ways to style it, and that meant you doing his hair.

“Of course, can’t have you looking like a hot mess in front of a large audience.” It didn’t matter what his hair looked like; he’d still look good.

“So you think I’m hot?” Hyunjin asks with a teasing smirk.

“Psh, what, no.” He raises an eyebrow at you as you attempt to form a sentence, “But you’re not ugly either, you’re, you’re…fine yes you’re hot…or whatever.” The sound of his laughter fills your ears and you can’t help but want to record it to listen to it all the time.

“I’m just messing with you, Y/n.” He gently ruffles your hair, “It’s so fun to mess with you.”

Huffing, “I disagree.”

“Well I agree.” Minho butts in. More laughter comes from Hyunjin as you launch yourself at Minho.

A few days later and it’s the night of the competition. You and The Snipers are in the dressing rooms getting ready. Because the dance had more of a fun theme, you and Hyunjin had agreed to add a little bit of pop to his hair. As you started to braid small sections of his hair, you added some colorful beads. You can feel Hyunjin’s stare on you through the mirror and you hope that he doesn’t notice the nervous tremors in your hands.

    “You better make sure I look good Y/n.”

    “When do you not look good?” Covering up your mouth, you couldn’t believe that you had let that slip out.

    “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

    Playfully shoving at his shoulder, “Hey, you say that like as if I’m not nice all the time.”

    “You’re the devil, of course you’re not nice.” Minho butts in. If looks could kill, you were sure Minho would be a goner.

    “I want you to keep your eyes on me tonight, Y/n.” Hyunjin’s bold statement makes your heart skip a beat.

    “What? Why?” There was no reason for Hyunjin to say this to you.

    “Because I’m the only one you should look at.” His sentence sounds whinier than it does serious, but you see it as a sliver of hope that shines for you.

    “Yah,” Minho starts, smacking Hyunjin in the back of the head, “They’re my sibling, they should be focused on me, plus it’s my last dance with you guys.”

    “Oh boohoo, Y/n has seen you dance plenty of times. They should have something that’s more eye catching to look at this time.” Another smack is landed on the back of Hyunjin’s head.

    “Yah, stop that Minho. You’re ruining my masterpiece.”

    “See, Y/n thinks I’m a masterpiece.”

    Scrunching your nose, “Not you, your hair.”

    “My hair is a part of me; therefore, I am a masterpiece.” You couldn’t disagree with him, however, being you, you have to say something a bit insulting.

    “Why is everyone on this dance team delusional?” You feel a pair of eyes on you and you instantly say, “Not you Felix, you’re a wonderful human being.” This time it’s you who gets the smack to the back of the head, but it doesn’t matter because you got to see Felix’s beautiful smile.

“Hey, why do you like Felix more than me?” ‘Oh Hyunjin, you big idiot. If only you knew.’ Minho snorts at Hyunjin’s question, and you send him another life-threatening glare. Minho knew about your feelings for Hyunjin, he wasn’t blind. He’d send you teasing glances every chance that he got, but you were thankful that he never brought it up to Hyunjin. To be honest, he thinks you could do better, but you think he only says that because Hyunjin is his friend.

    Deciding to mess with Hyunjin a little bit, you respond, “Because Felix is precious.” A pout settles on Hyunjin’s face and you swear that it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. Though you do have to say that the smile and hearts Felix sends you is almost as cute.

    “Oof, Hyunjin looks like you don’t have everyone wrapped around your finger, isn’t that right Y/n?” Jeno says, poking fun at Hyunjin.

    “Nah, I know Y/n has heart eyes for me.” Hyunjin playfully winks at you, and you hate the way your heart did somersaults in your chest.

    “You wish Hwang.”

After the team had left to get ready to go on stage, you went on your way to find a seat in the audience. While searching for a seat with the best view of the stage, you see an individual frantically waving at you. Squinting to see who it is, you recognize the person as Jungeun, an acquaintance you made thanks to the dance team. Jungeun, or better known as Kim Lip on stage, was part of a different dance team and you guys happened to meet at a different dance competition. You were on your way to your seat after doing last minute touchups to Hyunjin’s hair, when you saw that she needed help fixing her hair, so you lent her a helping hand. From then on, you guys would say hi to each other every time you saw one another.

Reaching Jungeun, you are pulled into a hug, “Hey, I didn’t know you were going to be here.” There was no indication that Jungeun’s dance team was competing tonight.

“Oh, I was invited to come, plus I wanted to watch the competition anyways.” To you, her answer seemed normal since she was a dancer after all, so you didn’t bother to question it any further. Though you did want to know if you knew the person who invited her, but you guys weren’t close enough for you to ask.

“Do you have a seat already?” Jungeun asks.

“No, I was just about to look for one.”

“Oh you can sit with me!” She offers you the vacant seat next to her, and you kindly accept it; one, because it had a nice view of the stage, and two, because you didn’t like sitting by yourself.

“This is your brothers last competition, right? I heard he was going to be a backup dancer for a boy group.” You weren’t surprised that she knew of this. Practically everyone in the dance scene here in your city knew of Minho, so of course word would spread about his new position.

“Yeah, it is. He wanted his last dance with The Snipers to be amazing, so him and the others put so much work into this performance.” If you were forced to compliment Minho, the one thing that you could say that wouldn’t make you gag was that he was passionate. He gave it his all for every dance he’s done, which is why no one was surprised when he told you that he was going to be a backup dancer for a big idol group. Since he always gave 110% effort in his dances, for this performance everyone else gave 120% effort to have one last win for Minho. Honestly, you were confused when the team decided to dance to Dynamite by BTS because you would’ve thought that they would’ve wanted something more intense, but their reasoning was that they wanted to have fun on stage with Minho for one last time.

“Hey, I think the team is about to perform.” Jungeun points towards the stage, and you see the familiar figures of the dance team. Minho is front and center, but your eyes travel towards Hyunjin, who’s on Minho’s left. Sitting there in the audience, you anxiously wait for the music to start. This was the last time your brother was going to be dancing with this team before he goes off on tour as a backup dancer, and you just hope this doesn’t mean that this will be the last time you watch the team dance.

Once the music starts playing, you block out everything else around you and focus on the dance. You’ve seen this dance so many times, but every time you become mesmerized with their moves. It’s refreshing to see them dance with this concept, and you’re loving the way everyone’s expression is showing that they’re having fun on the stage. Like Hyunjin wanted, you kept your eyes on him, watching him do the moves like they were nothing. Though, you did tear your eyes away from him to watch Felix do that one flip that makes you worried all the time, and to watch Minho’s solo. Aside from those instances, your eyes were glued to Hyunjin. If you were to describe his movements, you would say he was like water. Every single move he made was elegant and flowed nicely.

Once the performance had ended, you quickly stood up and loudly cheered for them, and you didn’t miss the moment when you caught Hyunjin’s eyes and he sent you a wink. This only caused for you to cheer for them even louder. Watching them leave, you dismiss yourself from Jungeun, and make your way back to the team. As soon as you reach the boys, you instantly pull Minho into a hug, “You guys were phenomenal. You had the whole audience cheering for you.” Pulling back from your brother, a different pair of arms wrap around you.

“Thanks Y/n.” Taking this moment as a chance, you tightly hug Hyunjin.

Your time with the team is cut short as they’re called back onto the stage for the announcement of the results. Making your way back to your seat, you nervously wait for the announcements to begin.

“Alrighty everyone, are you guys ready for the announcements?” Cheers fill up the auditorium as everyone wants to know the results.

“I guess that settles it, starting off with 10th place…” There were only a total of 15 dance teams, so there was a very high chance that The Snipers at least placed. When the MC announced a different team as 10th, you let out a big sigh, and you could hear Jungeun chuckle at you, but you chose to ignore it, focusing your attention on the MC. Every time the MC announces the placement of a team, you become even more anxious because now third place was about to get announced and the team hasn’t been announced yet.

“And in third place, we have…Trailblazers!”

“You and the others must be nervous.” You can only shake your head as response to Jungeun.

“Coming in second place, we have…Revolution X!” You had thought Revolution X’s performance was good especially with Kino’s solo, but not as great as The Snipers of course. The Snipers thought of Revolution X as their major competition, so maybe they had a chance at getting first.

“And last, but certainly not least, coming in first, we have…drum roll please.” The auditorium fills up with the sound of beats as everyone is anticipating the winners.

“The Snipers!” They did it, they won. You jump out your seat and loudly cheer for your boys. On stage the team is all huddled up together with Minho in the center, jumping up and down, and you wish that you could join in with them, but you’re also alright with just watching them from the sidelines, like always.

Instead of meeting in the dressing room, you meet up with the team outside in the parking lot. Jungeun had tagged along with you, which you didn’t mind since she knew the members of the team. Upon seeing the team, you run towards them, jumping on your brothers back.

“You guys did it! I told you, you were going to win!”

“Alright, alright. I just won and you’re already trying to kill me, get off.” Hesitantly, you get off of Minho’s back, but you don’t miss the smile that’s on his face, so it makes up for it. Your vision darkens when you feel something on top of your head cover your eyes, pulling up the unknown object, you see Hyunjin smiling brightly at you. Realizing that the object was Hyunjin’s bucket hat, you adjust it to sit right on your head as Hyunjin exclaims to you, “We did it, Y/n. We got first!” He then grabs onto your forearms and makes you jump around with him. The sounds of yours and his laughs are mixed together, and it makes you feel light on your feet. Eventually the two of you settle down, and Hyunjin finally realizes that there was someone behind you.

“Jungeun!” Leaving your side, Hyunjin goes off to talk to her. Before you can even think of anything, you’re being whisked away by your brother, “C’mon slow poke, we got to get going to the restaurant.” You don’t even manage to bid a goodbye to Jungeun as your brother pulls you towards his car.

You and Minho were the first ones to arrive at the restaurant, going up to claim your reservation. One by one the members of the team, came in filling up the seats at the tables. So far, the seat in front of you remained empty, and you hoped that Hyunjin was going to occupy it. When Hyunjin arrives at the restaurant, you see that he’s brought a surprise with him.

“Hey guys, you know Jungeun. It’s okay if she hangs out with us, right?”

“The more the merrier,” someone who you can’t register says, as you try to figure out why Jungeun had come. The seat in front of you becomes occupied by Jungeun as Hyunjin grabs another chair and sets it to the right of her. ‘Ah, he’s such a gentleman.’ Though, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit disappointed that he didn’t sit in front of you. 

The dinner was amazing, and you weren’t talking about the food. Everyone was in such a good mood that you didn’t even realize that you guys had been sitting at the restaurant for almost two hours. San is in the middle of telling a story about the disaster of time when him and Wooyoung went on a double date when Hyunjin got up from his seat.

“Hey guys, I’m gonna head out early.” He motions towards Jungeun who has also gotten up from her seat and that’s when reality hits you. Hyunjin was the one that invited Jungeun to come out tonight. He was winking at her, not you. You never had a chance with Hyunjin. There will always be girls like Jungeun and guys like Hyunjin want girls like her, not you. In Hyunjin’s eyes, you’ll always just be Minho’s sibling, the person that just tags along with the dance team. Any chance of hope that you thought you had didn’t exist. Hyunjin was just being Hyunjin. He was just being playful with you without realizing the things that he did to you.

Now that you think about it, you couldn’t believe you missed the signals; more like you chose to ignore them. You can’t say that you missed the small interactions that the two had at every dance competition, like this one time you were looking for Minho, but when you turned the corner Jungeun was leaning against the wall while Hyunjin had a hand propped up against the same wall next to her. You had just tried to explain to yourself that they were just having a normal conversation. Or that one time, you saw a familiar sweater Jungeun had on and assumed that they just had the same sweater. For every situation you had made an excuse to calm your delusional mind, but now as you sit there in the middle of the restaurant and watch the two of them, you can’t ignore the painful feeling in your chest that’s starting to form.

“Boo, can’t you spend a different night with your girl? This will our last time hanging out with this group.”

“Oh leave him be Wooyoung, you’re just jealous that he has someone and you don’t.” San says.

“And if I am?” His question makes everyone, but you laugh. That’s just because you’re too focused on Hyunjin.

“I’ll take you out another night Wooyoung, don’t worry.” Hyunjin sends Wooyoung a wink, and in returns he gets a flying kiss.

Laughing, “Anyways, we’re going to go. Don’t have to much fun without me.”

“Bye guys!” Jungeun bids the rest of you goodbye before she walks out the door Hyunjin is holding for her.

Your eyes follow the couple through the window as they walk away from the restaurant, and you wish that you could say that you didn’t see the way he playfully wrapped his arm around her. Gone from your line of vision, you tear your eyes away from the window and tune yourself back into the story San is telling the others. However, the image of Hyunjin with Jungeun is the only thing going through your mind, so you can’t even bother to focus at all. Instead you choose to swirl your straw around in your drink, doing all you can to think of something else.

“Are you okay?” Minho’s soft voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

“Hmm? Oh, uh yeah, I’m fine,” you answer indifferently.

Nudging you with his elbow, he gives you a concerned look, and in that instance, you felt like you wanted to cry even more because now your brother was worried about you. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin what is supposed to be a good night for him. “You want to go home?”

Shaking your head, “No, you shouldn’t have to leave early because of me, you should be celebrating with the rest of the team.”

“Y/n, you’re my sibling. You come first, no matter what and I can tell that you’re not okay. C’mon get up.” You and Minho had weird ways of showing it, but when it comes down to moments like these, you knew that you two loved each other. Hyunjin may be unobtainable, but as long as you had Minho by your side, you knew you would be fine.

As the two of you get up, Minho speaks to the rest of the team, “I’m sorry guys, but the life of the party is going to have to leave early, something came up.” The group boos at him, but eventually lets him leave. Silently, you bid the others goodbye, ignoring the concerned look Felix gives you.

The ride back home is silent, which is how you preferred it because you think if Minho had mentioned anything that you would’ve been full on sobbing, and that’s something you’d rather save for your pillowcase. You were 100% sure that Minho knew about Hyunjin and Jungeun, and you’re not sure if you’re glad that he didn’t tell you earlier or not. You know he had the best intentions. Looking out the window, you watch as the lights flash by and you internally laugh at yourself. You look like someone who’s in a sad music video, ‘pathetic.’

A/N: we’re half way through the series, yay! I've never seen anyone mention Kim Lip as a “heather” but I love her and think she would be one, so I had to include her. like always, feel free to let me know what you guys think

[kashimos-hajime]

no rest for the wicked | a.h.

summary: “There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.” Laurell K. Hamilton.

WARNINGS: mentions of/recalling sexual assault, kidnapping, and the aftermath, trauma, insomnia, swearing, gun violence, tender ending!! pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader word count: 7.6k

a/n: sorry this update is a few hours late. thanksgiving was a crazy day, but hope you enjoy!

SERIES MASTERLIST

AFTERMATH

The doorbell rings and you sigh, looking up from where you’d been crouched beside the bathtub. Getting up ungracefully, you grab a towel and head down the steps, migrating through the halls to the front door.

Checking the peep hole, you frown when you see it’s Aaron and you pull the door open, blinking.

“How late is it?” you say frankly, and his eyes rake up and down your figure, absorbing your messy state. You feel your spine straighten and you glance down at yourself as well before looking at him again.

“It’s six AM in the morning,” he tells you, frowning slightly and you sigh, eyes closing as you let him in. “Are you alright?”

“Tessa was at a sleepover and I couldn’t sleep so I decided it was finally time to give all her stuffed toys a bath,” you say, putting on a fake cheery tone. “I guess I lost track of time. What’s up?”

He glances around as you shut the door behind him, locking it and heading for the kitchen. You should start getting ready for work, and get your coffee ready. Flipping on the machine, you gesture silently if he wants any and he shakes his head.

“You refusing coffee? Must be serious,” you intone, pushing your travel mug underneath the spout and leaning over the counter, staring at him on the other side. “What’s with the housecall?”

“We have a new case. I don’t know how much you read about it, but JJ faxed me the details last night.”

“None, honestly. She sent me an email probably but, you know, insomnia.” You shrug and his gaze searches your weary face. You let him, too exhausted to try to pretend you’re not. “I’m really tired,” you confess, rubbing at your eyes. “I don’t know why.” You drop your fingers. “Why? Something important about the case I should know about?”

“I know sex crimes are your specialty but I want you to know that if you aren’t sure you can be your best out there, you’re not going,” he says quietly, and your eyes dart to his.

Quietly, you ask: “What is it, Aaron?”

“Rapist who switched from high school girls to women in their thirties. He breaks into their homes, but doesn’t kill them. He… he knocks them out, holds them at gunpoint.” Your jaw clenches. “He leaves a message before he attacks his victims.”

“Does he kidnap them?” He shakes his head. “That’s an odd change of victimology,” you murmur flatly, your face unmoving. The coffee machine beeps and you turn around just as the smell of coffee permeates through the air. Inhaling deeply, you watch the dark drink stream into your mug before turning back to Aaron, unsure. “I can handle it. I just… I’ll need a moment to get myself ready.”

“If you need to sit this one out,” he begins softly, but you shake your head again.

“Aaron, I dedicated my whole life to catching assholes like these.” You give him your best attempt at a smile as you turn to grab your mug of coffee and twist the lid on tight. You set it near your purse. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Just let me leave a note for my dad.”

“Of course.”

You exit the kitchen, your heart thudding hard against your chest.

As you climb the steps, you feel a slow tendril of dread wrap around your lungs.

.

“Are you alright?” you ask quietly as you, Elle, Reid and Aaron walk through the hospital. Staff bustle around them and you flash your badge at the police officers cordoning off the hallway.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Elle replies, keeping her eyes ahead. You look at the younger woman, frowning faintly at the aloofness she’s projecting into her tone.

“Because this unsub is going into people’s homes,” you say softly so the men ahead can’t hear. “And you were attacked in your own home and got shot.” Her eyes flit over to your, and you raise your eyebrows expectantly but she merely shakes her head. “Elle, you couldn’t even sleep in your own home—”

“I’m fine. Seriously, you helped a lot. I’m fine.”

“Okay, but if you need to tap out, you should tell one of us.”

“I won’t need to,” she says as they reach the room, and you lower your gaze to the floor. You had tread this path before, not in this hospital, but to a similar room. A shiver shoots up your spine and your gut twists at the smell of antiseptic, the sound of cameras flashing.

You walk into the examination room, and see the woman laying there.

No matter how many times you see something like this, it never gets easier.

You suppose that is a good thing. It means you’re not numb to it—just mended enough to deal with the memories.

Again, you flash your badge at the officers standing inside, and you feel a swell of sympathy for the woman. You remembered what it was like, surrounded by cops constantly, seeing the remains of what happened to you. The bruises, the bleeding…

You catch Aaron’s eyes.

Are you okay?

And you nod.

I’m fine.

“Excuse us, please,” he says to the officers, who dip their heads and go. The woman on the table sits up as you walk around the room. “I realize you’ve already spoken to the police, but we were hoping there were a few questions you could answer for us.” The woman refuses to look at Aaron as you fall into line beside him, and you can feel it.

Elle’s apprehension, the tightness in Aaron’s body.

“Yeah,” she breathes. “Everytime I think it’s over, someone else wants to photograph me, or touch me, or ask me to relive it.” Your brow furrows as you catch the woman’s gaze.

“We’ll try to be as quick as possible,” you promise and she nods, eyes briefly meeting yours for a second before it drops again. Your knuckles brush against Aaron’s as you reach up to pull a notepad out and you turn to look at him just as he looks at you.

Those dark eyes ask so many questions. Your gaze flits over his face for a moment before blinking and returning your gaze to your notepad, flipping it open and clicking the pen.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron begins, pulling out his phone, “but I’m going to have to ask you to listen to this and tell me if the man’s attitude sounds the same as when he was in your house.” He plays the message and you feel a chill crawl up your spine. Swallowing, you wrap your arms around yourself and lift your head to look at the wall instead as you listen to the victim speak.

Power reassurance rapist, you classify in your head as soon as she said he’s more nervous even with the gun. Not like him.

In your years since joining the BAU, you had classified your own unsub once you had felt yourself stable enough to even think about it so in detail. You had guessed he’d been white, but you can’t recall if you’d seen him.

You know he, or they, were male. You’re not sure on the numbers involved, but they were a power assertive rapist.

You think about that as they drive back to the hotel. On the rare occasion that Gideon doesn’t ride back in the same SUV as Hotch, you sit beside him with your elbow against the window, chin in your hand.

The rest of the team’s either about to doze off or reading over casefiles. There’s not a lot of talk when the victims are still alive. No one wants to bounce off ideas, yet.

It’s different, you think, when the victims are still alive.

Arriving at the hotel, you get out, hoisting you go-bag and getting out of the car. Slamming the door shut behind you, you close your eyes and take a deep breath, making sure you’re steady on your sore feet. It’d been a long few hours walking around, and with your already-exhausted body being hauled on and off planes, in and out of cars, all you want to do is shower and sleep.

“Get some sleep, alright?” Aaron murmurs into your ear as he presses the elevator button, and you look at him, smiling faintly. “Don’t work the case, tonight.”

“Whatever you say. I’m about to sleep on my feet,” you admit, and the smallest of smiles pulls at his mouth as the lift doors open and they step on.

And you try.

You really try.

You shower; massage shampoo into your scalp, lather your body, wrap yourself in the complimentary bathrobe and ignore the TV, choosing to simply slide underneath the covers as soon as your hair is dry and you’re in a fresh set of pajamas.

Your eyes close and you feel exhausted. You could be dead if you tried, your eyes fluttering shut. You don’t think you can move a muscle from where you lay on the bed as you roll onto your side, trying to find a comfortable position.

Even though your eyes feel like a thousand bricks, you still can’t sleep.

You keep hearing the click of the camera, and you know why you can’t. 

There will always be days where sleep is robbed of you. It’s been like this for the past twenty years or so. There is no rhyme or rhythm to it—sometimes, you just can’t sleep because your body refuses to, because your mind can’t stop thinking of those four days when you were missing from the world.

When you find the strength to actually move, your body receiving a mere thirty-three minutes of you just under your covers with your eyes shut in total darkness, you move slowly, getting off the bed and heading for your bags and grabbing the casefile.

On their own accord, your gaze drags to the door. Aaron is on the other side of the hall, and it’s not like he’s a complete stranger to the case, but—

No. You shouldn’t.

You should be asleep.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you flip on the light on the desk and pull out the chair, sitting down and opening the folder. As images flash before your eyes, you feel your heart growing heavier with every passing moment you are conscious.

.

“Hey.”

A tired voice catches Hotch’s attention and he turns around to see you, coffee in hand, dark circles under your eyes. You look like you haven’t slept a wink as you set down your files in the room. In fact, you look worse than this morning. You look like you’re asleep on your feet, eyes barely open, eyebrows permanently furrowed in an intimidating stare. Morgan walks in after you, the two of you having gone to talk to the other victims who were confirmed to have gone to the same fertility clinic. Hotch is just on his way out to the fertility clinic as you brush past him, sitting down.

“Jeez, you get any sleep last night?” Morgan asks, and you send him a weary glance. “You okay?”

“I’ll sleep when we catch this son of a bitch,” you sigh, fingers drumming on the table. Hotch gives Morgan a nod, a sign that the younger man should make himself busy for a few minutes outside the conference room. The door closes shut and you watch Derek go blankly, like you’re not quite there.

Hotch perches himself on the edge of the table, tilting his head and surveying your appearance.

He knows hypervigilance when he sees it.

“Did something trigger you before I came to your house?” he begins quietly and you rouse yourself, breathing in deeply and turning around.

“What?” You blink, staring at him, and he repeats his question, frown growing by the second as you screw up your face, try to wake up. “Oh. Oh, uh, no. I… I don’t think so.”

“You know counselling is always available,” he says as you rest your elbows on the conference table. Putting your chin on the back of your hands, you nod, smiling a bit. “What happened the night before I came? When you were at home, when… when did the insomnia start?”

“I don’t know,” you murmur. “I just tried to get to sleep, and… I couldn’t. It was like someone was watching me, or… or something.”

“Any smells?”

“Not really. I… I was going through some old books. You know, cleaning up the shelves after dinner.” Your lips press into a thin line as you stare distantly into the grain of the table. “One of the books was in Garner’s house. I remember. The cover… exact same. I didn’t even know I had that book until I saw it, and I… I guess I couldn’t stop seeing it.”

You look up at him, eyes unfocused, before your gaze drops again and he rubs his index finger with his thumb out of habit.

“If you need to be pulled off this case, I’m happy to do so. You need to sleep, work through this.”

“I know,” you say. You flip your hand so your chin sits in the center of your palm, your other hand falling to his on the table. Your fingers are warm. The corner of your mouth pulls into a soft smile as your eyes find his again and you squeeze his hand gently. “But I’ll be okay.”

His eyebrows rise as if to say, Are you sure?

“I’m sure,” you say. There is a tiny, pulsing warmth near his heart as you sigh, lifting your hand from his to grab a file scattered amongst the others on the desk. “I’m fine, Aaron. You worry too much.”

“Stay here. I’ll take Morgan and Callahan to see the fertility clinic.” Your gaze flits to his and he waits for you to respond. You simply let your hand fall heavily on his again, briefly squeeze, before you lean back in your chair and start reading. Sliding off the table, he heads for the door. Through the window, he sees Morgan and Callahan already grouped up waiting for him and he pulls open the door, pausing long enough to say: “And get some sleep.”

“When I’m dead, boss,” you reply and he shakes his head, leaving you to the papers and evidence boards.

The fertility clinic ends up leading them to First Hand Media, and then a potential hit for the unsub’s newest victim.

Hotch would give anything not to see your face as you appear from the building just as the police cordon off the street with tape. You’d been furious when you heard that the police only knocked and walked away—temper foul enough every single person on the team could feel it, even though you knew as well as anyone that the law meant they couldn’t enter without reason.

It felt so often that the criminals had the law working for them rather than against them if they were smart enough.

You’d been on scene first, having caught a ride with police, and as the rest of the team emerge from SUVs, you descend down the steps of the home, walking aside the gurney. The victim is covered in a blue blanket, one you help pull up to cover herself and he catches your eye when you look up, as if you felt him staring. It’s then that he notices the woman’s hand tightly clamped on yours and in the swirling red lights, he sees the absolute fury, the heart-splitting agony, splintering your face.

He nods as you walk to the ambulance, and you climb in without another word. The doors shut behind you, and he does not see you for a good few hours yet his thoughts can’t help but linger on you every once and awhile.

He needs to know how you’re doing, both as your team leader, and as your friend. This sort of violence, breaking into someone’s home—he knows you’re strong, that you’ve been healing and always will be, but there are some cases that hit home, and with your insomnia, it’s only added to his worry.

It’s later that night that there is a knock on his door, just minutes after he left Jason’s room with Callahan does he immediately know who it is. Hanging up his suit jacket, he heads for the door and unlocks it immediately, revealing your haunted face.

Your eyes do not even focus on his face even though you are looking at him, and your lips are slightly parted as you let out an exhale upon seeing him.

“Y/N—”

Before he can say anything more, you are walking past the door frame and tossing your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. Your face over his shoulder, he feels your entire body sag into his own arms, ones he wraps around your waist. Running a hand up and down your back, he keeps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his room, closing the door behind you.

Then, does he embrace you again fully, head against yours, simply letting you lean against him for a moment.

He feels your heart, beating underneath his hands, the heat of your body, and his eyes close as he reminds himself that you’re okay. You are found, and healthy, and he knows where you’ll be come the morning.

When you finally pull back, an embarrassed, desolate expression is etched into your face and he cocks his head slightly, eyebrows furrowed. You refuse to look at him, lips together in a grimace as your hands fall from his waist.

“It was just like what happened to me,” you say quietly, and he pulls out of your grasp, walking deeper into the room. “Aaron, I want to catch him so badly that I feel like… I’ll die if I don’t.” He turns around, picking up the cup of tea he’d been steeping. Adjusting the teabag, he brings it over to you and you take it tentatively.

“We will,” he assures quietly. “Have you showered, slept?” You shake your head no to either and follow him as he walks to his desk. Sighing, he rubs his brow while you sit down on his bed and you take a sip. He cleans up the files scattered messily, his mind now slipping into the thoughts of his meeting with Jason and Callahan. 

“Tell me we’re going to do something. That we have a plan. Anything.”

“We’re giving the unsub another potential victim, staking the place out to give us reason to arrest.”

“Okay, uh, what do you need me to do?” you ask immediately, and Aaron lets his eyes close for a second, another heavy exhale leaving his body. It’d been a quick debate inside his mind before he suggested Elle, and despite how much he trusts you, he also doesn’t trust your state of restlessness.

Slower reflexes, anxiety levels—it’s too much to chance. You’re going to hate it but he’s not about to let you walk into that house.

“Elle will pose as the victim, go into a house, leave… we take the unsub for breaking and entering and match DNA to what was found in the rape kits,” he says, turning around and your eyebrows knit together as you stare at him. “Do you think she’s ready?”

“No.” The answer comes quickly, sharply, and you stand, crossing the room to put your cup on his desk and stand before him, pinning him down with a glare. “Elle isn’t ready for this.” A brief moment of surrender flickers in your eyes before you add, “I can do it.”

He shakes his head. “You haven’t been sleeping. Your reflexes will be slower, and the potential that you will be injured is too great—”

“Then let me get hurt. Elle isn’t healed yet,” you snap.

“Neither have you,” he shoots back, and your head jerks back like you’ve been slapped. “Garner kidnapped you from a store that you knew well. When we were kids, someone kidnapped you from your home and you were missing. For four days, I didn’t know if you were alive or dead, and when I found you…” His voice fades at your expression. He sees you swallow and your gaze falls to his feet as you step back. “I am not going to put you in a position where you remember every moment of it. You’ve been through too much.”

“It’s different. I’m not a victim here! Elle is still healing because she got shot in her home four months ago and I know how to deal with this kind of situation. I’ll be fine.”

“You haven't been sleeping, Y/N.”

“Because of a book,” you brush it off and Hotch’s lips twist into a deep frown. “I’m not afraid of this man. If anything, I want him gone. You can’t allow your personal life to affect this case!”

“I’m not.”

“Liar. If it were anyone else, you’d just ask them if they were sure and send them on their way.”

“You are not anyone else. I won’t allow it.”

“You’re being selfish!”

“Maybe I am!” he says coldly and your spine straightens as he turns to look at you. “But I am not putting you in danger when there is someone else.”

“Someone else who is emotionally compromised. Someone whom I know is going through hell,” you correct him, and he closes his eyes. You stare at him and he can taste the silence in his mouth—foul, bitter. There is only the soft sound of breathing and his heart thudding quickly in his chest. “You are making a mistake. We have never had this problem before, and now you… Aaron, you can’t just do this to Elle. She’s not ready.”

“Well, what other choice do we have?” he whispers, opening his eyes and you stare at him with such open incredulity that something inside him withers. “I don’t like it as much as anyone else, but if she thinks she can do it, then she’s going to do it.”

You blink at him, and he stares back at you, trying not to falter in the face of your wide-eyeed, offended glare.

Finally, you snap into motion, glancing at the cup and then to him again. “Yes, sir,” you mutter sarcastically, turning to leave. “I’m going to try to get some shuteye.” You reach the door and pull it open.

“Y/N, wait.”

You pause, glancing over your shoulder. “Goodnight, Aaron.”

The door softly clicks shut behind you.

.

You stare into the rim of your coffee cup. It’s lousy, watery and bitter, but it gives you something to think about besides the woman beside you.

You knew. You knew she wasn’t ready.

“Are we going to talk about what happened out there?” you inquire softly, turning to look at Elle. She stares blankly into the ground, not hearing you, and you sigh. “Elle?”

“I know it was him,” she whispers, voice gritty with anger.

“We don’t have grounds to get DNA and confirm that, Elle,” you reply softly. “Look, I get it, but as soon as he lawyers up, we’re not going to get him to crack.” She gets up and you sigh, eyes following her. “Elle.”

She walks through the bullpen and you get up after her just as the unsub walks past, and your heart plummets into your stomach as he makes eye contact with the younger agent in front of you, and it is not until that he is gone that she springs into action. You reach for her arm but she shakes you off as she storms up to Derek.

“You’re letting him walk?”

“Back off, Elle.”

“You don’t know what he’s done.”

Aaron and Gideon approach and you see the way Gideon surveys Elle, watching. You walk up to them, bypassing Derek who sends you a wary glance.

“Elle, take a walk,” you censure quietly as officers turn to look. This is not something the public needs to see, especially from the FBI, supposed specialists in this kind of thing.

“The only reason he’s walking is because you panicked,” Aaron says evenly, and you shoot him a sharp glare, one he ignores in favour of keeping his staring match with Elle going.

“I’m supposed to believe that you’ve got my back?”

“What are you saying to me?”

Turning, you see Spencer, eyebrows furrowed and lips marred with a guilty frown, and Derek, watching with concern written into his features. Shaking your head, you look back at your best friend.

“Aaron, walk away from this,” you cut in, but he ignores you. A moment later, you think he wished he listened to you.

“The last time you sent me home, Hotch, it got me shot.”

“That’s enough.” 

“Walk with me, right now.” Gideon grabs Elle and you take Aaron by the arm, separating the two agents immediately. You don’t let go until the two are out of the police station, in the cold, dark night, staring at each other barely illuminated by the lights inside. You can’t comprehend the cocktail emotions swirling through you as you take a deep breath. You think a lot of it is frustration, but it is overpowered by what you feel for him. An overwhelming feeling in your chest that is a mixture of love, and exasperation, and... and sympathy.

Aaron’s eyes are dark, sheltered away from you, and you know what he’s feeling.

The guilt.

It kills him every time.

“What, are you here to tell me that you told me so?” he asks quietly, and your eyebrows shoot up.

“If I was angrier, maybe I would.”

“You’re not angry?”

“No, I am. But she played on your guilt, and… and your complex with that is your weak spot. It’s mostly just sympathy,” you tease softly, weakly, and he looks up at you under the hood of his eyebrows. “Aaron, you could’ve just listened to me. We can’t let our personal relationship start getting in the way of work.”

“I know, but you are fatigued, and hypervigilant. I didn’t want to risk anything to chance,” he murmurs. You lean against the wall of the station, crossing your arms. A long exhale leaves your chest as you look out into the street. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s… not okay, seeing as that son of a bitch is walking free without a rape charge, but… but thank you. And it’s not your fault, you know,” you add as he turns to walk back inside. His hand on the door slips off as he regards you with those beautiful brown eyes. “None of it was.”

“I know. Realistically, I know that I couldn’t have known Garner was in her home, but I could have… made sure Anderson stayed with her. Done more to make sure she was safe.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you say softly. “Your whole life, you’ve let guilt define who you are. Guilty that you’re not a better son, a better brother, a better father, a better friend and husband, but Aaron… there are some things that are out of your control.” His brow wrinkles as you offer him a small smile. “You couldn’t have known a man would kidnap me that night, just like you didn’t know Garner would be waiting for Elle inside her own home or going to kidnap me either. And… I’m a hypocrite when it comes to being guilty, but… it wasn’t your fault. None of it was.”

“Y/N…” he begins emptily but you shake your head.

“Get back inside and get some rest. I think we both need a moment.”

He nods, tearing his gaze away and walking inside, and you stay out there, simply watching the street lights.

For a moment, you think that the only reason he listens to you is because of guilt, which is… ironic.

You think about cigarettes as the door pushes open again. Glancing loftily to the side, you catch sight of Elle, walking down the street, bypassing their SUVs in favour of the wet streets. Frowning, a niggling curiosity urges you to follow. You push off the wall and walk after her, keeping to the shadows. Lessons on how to tail suspects ringing in your ears, you stick a measurable distance away, keeping an eye on her at all times.

It’s not long before you realize where she’s going.

Lee’s address.

You watch as she scopes out the place, a motel-like building, before finding the garages and hiding behind the dumpster. Skirting around the alley, you frown, your heart beating in your chest. Your gun weighs heavier at your waist as you slip a hand into your pocket for your phone.

Don’t do anything stupid, Elle, you think silently. You haven’t slept properly in what feels like days, your movements are sluggish, and you pull out your gun slowly, afraid that you’ll be too late otherwise. It feels heavy in your palms, sleek as it’s always been. Fingering the trigger, you hear a car pull into the driveway, and you watch as William Lee steps out of his car. Just… walk away.

But could you?

If you were face to face with the man who personified your rape, and you held the gun, could you?

“Is this what you do?”

Fuck, Elle, c’mon.

“You wait for them until they get home?”

Lee looks like he’s about to shit himself as you palm your gun, watching from your viewpoint.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

Moving slowly, you inch out of your hiding spot behind the hedges by one of the apartment rooms and step forward slowly, heels clacking quietly.

“What, you can’t talk to a woman without a gun in your hand?” You can see Elle’s gun, plain as day, and the tense muscles, begging to spring into motion. “You and I both know what you are and you’re not going to hurt women anymore.”

“I would never hurt them, you know that. That’s why you let me go.”

“I didn’t let you do anything.”

C’mon, Elle. Keep your temper.

A beat of lecherous silence. Neither Elle or Lee has noticed you coming around the alley corner as you step over a puddle, and you try to think how the fuck you’re going to explain this to Aaron as Lee makes some off-handed compliment that is never, ever, really a compliment.

“What did you just say to me?” Stepping closer to Lee, Elle’s voice cuts through the night air.

“Why do you choose to do a job that is so dangerous?” Lee asks quietly, hints of that misogynistic superiority seeping into his words. “You should find a man to take care of you.”

“Oh, like you took care of those women?”

“Now you’re trying to interrogate me. You know you’re not supposed to do that.”

Don’t give in to what you want to do, Elle.

“I’m just here to let you know that I’m not going to rest until you go away.”

“No… you’re here because you want me to say thank you.”

“You’re sick.”

He’s trying to bait you, Elle.

“Really? Because… without you, I would still be locked up.”

“I didn’t let you walk.”

Lee steps closer and you raise your gun, aiming it squarely at Lee’s side as he leans close to Elle. You’re metres away, now, but they’re so engrossed in each other, an intensity you can taste bitterly in your mouth, neither notice.

“Thank you.” Elle turns her face away in disgust and you are almost there. You don’t have grounds to arrest him, but if he tries anything… you are at the ready. “You’ve made a lot of women very happy.” Finally, he pulls back and begins to walk around Elle, and it is then that you see her hand move, the cogs of her brain shift into gear, and you mouth opens before you can stop it.

“FBI, do not move.”

Two heads snap towards you, and you see Elle’s gaze widen as you step further into view, keeping your sights on Lee. Walking closer, you do not change your sights until you are in full view of the motel. If he tries to run, you’ll pin him in the leg no problem.

It is then that you turn your sights to Elle.

“Drop the weapon, Elle.”

“What?” She does not falter. Neither do you. “You’re kidding—”

“Agent Greenaway, drop your weapon, now.”

“Why are you protecting him?” she snaps, her gaze still trained on Lee who glances nervously between you and Elle. You send him a sharp glare and he swallows, clearly intimidated. Against your will, a flash of satisfaction fills your bones at that. “You know what he is. What he’s done to all those women.”

“Elle, we can’t do it this way. This will ruin you, and you know it.”

“I don’t care. You don’t understand what I’ve gone through,” the younger woman cries, voice wretched with pain. “I won’t give him the chance to harm any more women.”

“And he won’t,” you assure. “I just learned that he got one of the victims pregnant.” Elle’s eyes widen. “Lee, don’t you want to confirm the paternity of your child, make your mom proud like you always wanted to?” you ask, turning your gaze over to the unsub. His eyes are wider than saucers. “Start a family, give her a grandkid...”

“Which one is pregnant?”

“Melissa Wells,” you say off the top of your head. “If you confess that you’re guilty at the station, plead guilty to the federal stalking charges we have stacked against you and to the rape charges, then you’ll be able to meet your child, and I’ll tell the judge to go light on you. I promise, okay?” The words come out vile in your mouth, and you almost feel nauseous at the light that sparks in his eyes. “You were doing her a favour, now you two have a kid. Does that sound like a deal to you?”

“You can’t be serious—”

“Yes, but… are you sure? That she’s pregnant…” Lee asks quietly and you nod with a fake certainty that makes your head spin. “If I go to prison, I’ll have visitation rights?”

“Better than Agent Greenaway putting a bullet in you, right? You want your baby to know their father,” you add, and he nods. Classic sympathy trick despite how disgusted with yourself it makes you feel. “Elle,” you call softly, looking at the agent. “Put down the gun.”

Tears welling up in the woman’s eyes, you watch her grip tremble before she yanks the gun down, holstering it again, and you let out a heavy sigh, grabbing Lee by the arm and pulling out the cuffs hanging on the back of your belt loop.

“Cautionary measure, Lee,” you say, flashing him a quick, stale smile and he nods as you call the police.

And there you stand until the first patrol car shows up, then more, and soon you see the BAU SUVs pulling up. Detective Callahan walks up to you and you hand Lee over with a faint smile.

“He’ll confess,” you say with a short nod. “I’ll meet you in the station. Don’t let anyone but me in there, alright?”

“Of course. Thank you,” Callahan murmurs. “Alright, Lee. Let’s move.” Turning around, you see Elle, the swirling red and blue lights playing with the shadows on her face and you start to walk towards her but she simply stares at you like you’ve stabbed her in the back before heading to the SUVs, shoving past Derek and Gideon.

A hard, cold lump balls up in your throat as you feel a warm hand land on your shoulder and you turn into Aaron’s body, embracing him tightly for just a moment before pulling back. Murmuring a quick affirmation that you’re okay, you head for the patrol car, ducking into the passenger seat beside Callahan.

.

Knocking on the door, you wait for Elle to open up. 

After a gruelling few hours interrogating and getting Lee to confess, you’ve finally made your way back to the hotel. You’re exhausted, but at least Lee’s going where he deserves to go.

Jesus. Some fucking justice.

“Elle, it’s me,” you call quietly, trying not to disturb the other members of the team, sleeping in their rooms in the hall. “Open up. I know you’re not sleeping.”

There’s a pause on the other side and you wait, eyes slipping shut slowly.

When the lock on the door clicks, your head snaps up to reveal the woman, haggard, in her pajamas, and a furious expression still etched onto her face.

“May I come in? I want to… I wanna talk about what happened.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Elle, listen—” She walks away and you step into the room, following after her where she’s packing her bags.

“You’re supposed to have my back. Out of everyone, I trusted you the most and you just… you sided with him?”

“What was I supposed to do? You were going to shoot him. I know it, and believe me, if I was in your position, I think I would’ve, too.” Your eyebrows shoot up as you try to catch her gaze but she refuses to look at you. “Elle, I get it. I—”

“You don’t get shit. For all your talk about being there for us, you just stabbed me in the back!”

“We arrested him. He confessed, and he’s going to jail, and there is no baby. I lied to get him to come peacefully. Melissa Wells isn’t pregnant, he is not getting visitation rights, and I am making sure every he’ll be charged to the fullest extent,” you grit out, and her eyes meet yours, widening. “Elle, I understand what you’re going through.” You lean on the mattress, ducking your head to maintain eye contact as she stuffs her clothes into a duffel bag. Sitting down, you swallow through your pin-tight throat.

“How can you possibly understand?” she asks, giving up the pretense and staring at you plainly.

“I was raped,” you say flat out, a faintest of smiles pulling at your mouth. It’s not the smile of happiness. It’s one when there’s no other reaction to give. When something so horrible happens that you can’t help but smile with no happiness behind it, no feeling, nothing. Your stare emptily at her, as her lips part and you scoot over on the bed, patting the mattress beside you.

She moves, coming to sit beside you, and you take her hand in yours, resting interlocked fingers on your knee.

“It was in spring of my junior year. March, after the Spring Fling at my school, I… I went back to my dorm. I was tired, a bit drunk, and no one was home. Aaron… he dropped me off at my room and walked off back to our friends once he was sure I was inside and safe.” Your eyes slip shut for a moment, remembering those moments before everything disappeared and your gut coils tightly as you open your eyes again. “He was already in the room before I was there. I didn’t know what was happening until it was too late.”

Elle doesn’t say anything. You don’t expect her to.

“I… I was kidnapped, held for four days before the police found me. I remember every minute of those four days, even now. I woke up and I wasn’t wearing any clothes, and I was cold, but… but I was alive.” You shrug with one shoulder, licking your lips as you stare into the carpet. “A lot of times, I wish I wasn’t. I… I can’t say that I felt anything like a finger in a bullet wound,” you add to her, and her lips twitch into that kind of smile. The empty smile as you mention her own break-and-enter, and you reaffirm your grip on her hand. “But… they took something from me. Sometimes, I still feel it, even all these years later. I don’t like telling anyone,” you continue. “No one knows except Aaron, and now you, but it’s why I specialize in sex crimes, Elle.”

“I’m sorry,” she begins but you shake your head.

“Don’t be. It was a terrible thing that happened,” you acknowledge, “and… and they took something from me that I will never get back, but I didn’t let that define who I am. There is no sure path to recovery but this… self-sabotage, it’s not healthy. That I do know. There’ll always be people here that care about you. Spencer,” you name with a slight laugh, “he cares so much about you. You’re his friend.”

“I know.”

“Just think about it, okay? Think about what you want, and whether or not that’s here at the BAU, because what happened tonight wasn’t acceptable. I am by no means perfect, but sometimes, we have to take a look about what we really need to heal. I’m here if you need anything, but this is a choice you have to make for yourself. Think about what happened here today. I won’t rush you, but… Aaron is going to need a report on what happened, and I’m not about to lie to him.”

“I didn’t go there to kill him,” she says quietly, and you nod.

“I know. I just think that things change when you’re facing the guy who personifies a shitty thing that’s happened to you.” You smile again, this time more genuine, warmer. “I care about you, Elle, and I do have your back, but I’m also an FBI agent.”

“I know.”

You squeeze her hand and she lets out a sigh. You pull her into your arms, embracing her tightly and her hands land on your back, holding you tightly.

“Get some rest, alright?” you murmur as you pull back and she nods. “See you in the morning.”

“You, too,” she says after a difficult swallow, and you get up. “Goodnight.”

Turning back, you give her the faintest of smiles. “Goodnight, Elle.”

.

Settling into the jet, Hotch watches as you move from Elle’s seat to one beside him, and you sit down without a word as they prepare for liftoff. You don’t say anything, merely buckle in your seatbelt, and he feels like there’s a slight stilting in the way he looks at you.

Should he say something? Should he not?

“I think I’m going to try to sleep,” you tell him softly, pulling your blanket over yourself and he sees you then, looking at him with those warm, tender eyes. “Hope you don’t mind the terrible conversation.”

“I don’t mind at all,” he says and you smile, nestling the pillow by your head. Your eyes slip shut and he lets out a soft sigh, stare lingering a moment longer before he turns to the casefile. Last night had been one headache after another, one he doesn’t want to deal with until they land. As the jet takes off, he feels his own eyes slip shut. He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep last night.

You didn’t know but he had watched the interrogation through the glass before going back to the hotel before you. He just wanted to make sure you were okay and he knows he’s hovering, being the most annoying he can be, but he doesn’t want to take chances anymore.

It’s not long before there is a weight on his shoulder and he turns with raised eyebrows to see your head against his body, your face one of blissful ease. It’s like you go back ten years when you aren’t awake, and he smiles to himself, looking down at the file.

You sleep for the rest of the trip, and when you wake up first, it is it his head atop yours, a steady weight against your scalp.

Poking him in the arm, you rouse him gently. The rest of the cabin is silent, the team asleep, and you tug on his sleeve, lifting your head up as he does. Your blanket’s nearly slipped off and he reaches to fix it as you separate yourself from him with an awkward grimace.

“Hi,” you mumble, heat rushing to your face, and the corner of his mouth tugs up. “I… I slept. Did you?”

“Yeah. Sorry about that,” he whispers hoarsely, clearing his own throat and you nod, tucking your feet back into your shoes. Your heart is beating irregularly in your chest at the sleepy expression on his face and you feel like vomiting your lungs out at how much you want to see that face more often. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” He stands and you do too, shimmying out of the row so he can pass by you.

When you sit down again, window seat this time, and stare out into the cloudy expanse of the sky, you lean forward on your elbows and feel more well-rested than you have in ages.

Turning to look at your team, you spot Elle, fast asleep next to Spencer, and you hide your minute smile behind your hand.

a/n: IT WAS A LONG ONE BUT WE MADE IT! reblog if you enjoyed loves xxx

TAGS: @withyoutilltheendofthismess​ @thebriarpatch​ @joemazzello-imagines @thisiscalm-andits-doctor​ @sera-wonderland​ @pity-mee​ @duvetsandpillows​ @roses-and-grasses​ @stainedpomegranatelips​  @angelsbabey​ @sansonnette​ @xxlovingfandomsxx​ @rachelxwayne​ @kingandrear​ @simsvetements @emery--nicole--morrison​ @genevievedarcygranger​ @mooneylupinblack​ @sercyan​ @forgottenword​ @nuvoleincielo​ @joanofarkansass​ @spencerelds​ @awkwardnesshabitat​ @groovygoob​ @call-me-mrsreid​ @chelseyjoyce​

[randomfandomimagine]

Separated (Zuko x Reader)

Characters: Zuko, Iroh

Fandom: Avatar The Last Airbender

Tags Reader Insert, Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Spoilers about Zuko’s character and backstory

Word Count: 1,7k words

Summary: Y/N and Zuko are constantly arguing because of his stubbornness, and it isn’t until they are separated that they truly realize how much they need each other.

A/N: I’m not completely sure the timelines match, but I had this idea that explored Zuko’s character and I loved it, so here it is! I’m quite proud of this one! Hope you enjoy reading :D

Zuko x Gender Neutral Reader

-

Iroh cheerfuly hummed as he served you tea. Both Zuko and you refused to look at each other. You had run out of patience, and so had he.

Perhaps his uncle was more benevolent and lenient, but you weren’t. Like Iroh, you had realized Zuko’s struggle, and you saw the good and kindness in him as well. Unlike his uncle, however, you were fed up with his demeanor. Zuko held on to so much anger and resentment, all aimed at the wrong person.

It wasn’t the Avatar that would bring his honor back, couldn’t he see? His father had showed his position quite clearly when he burned Zuko badly enough to leave him scarred for life. And not only because of the mark in his face.

“I’m tired of waiting” Zuko muttered, showing his impatience once more. 

“Patience is a virtue, dear nephew” Although Iroh was clearly taking to him, his kind eyes fell over you as well.

“Don’t bother, Iroh” You said nonetheless, unable to contain your bitterness in regards to the prince’s demeanor as of late. It had only gotten worse these last few days. 

Your comment earned you a bad look from him. You turned your face away. In reality, you were only trying to hide how much it pained you. How deeply it hurt you to see him deny the truth and go after someone who only wanted to help people.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Zuko barked back, dedicating you a challenging glare and demanding a reaction from you.

“It means you are being stupid and stubborn!” You said, slamming your cup on the ground. “Capturing the Avatar won’t-”

“If I bring him to my father, he will restore my honor!” He interrupted you, raising his volume much louder than you.

“No, he won’t!”

“Don’t talk about what you know nothing of, Y/N!”

“I do know! No offense, Zuko, but your father is a jerk”

“He is not!”

“Whatever you say…”

“Yes, I am the prince and-”

“You are a banished prince whose father doesn’t care for!”

“That’s enough!” He abruptly stood up, and his face contorted in the angriest grimace you had ever seen. “If you’re not going to help, leave right now!”

“I will!” You threw the cup of tea at his feet in an outburst of fury. “I don’t want to be around you anymore!”

Just when you had already turned your back on him, you realized what that implied. Just as your foot hovered in the air before you took the first step, you paused. Looking over your shoulder, you locked gazes with Iroh. It wasn’t fair to him either. His eyes were laced with sadness, almost begging you not to give up on Zuko. Without looking at the prince, you shook your head at his uncle. You didn’t have the strength to believe in him anymore, not when he continued to push you away like that.

Making your choice, you continued walking away from them. Away from him. Silence lingered for a bit longer until you were out of reach.

“Y/N called you Zuko...” Iroh whispered, still saddened as they both watched how you left without looking back. “Not Lee...”

“So what?” He replied with a shrug, even if his voice broke. Deep down, he knew what that meant. Even if his uncle didn’t give him an answer either.

To you, he wasn’t Lee anymore. He wasn’t that person you had grown so fond of, that you had met so long ago and had decided to help. That you had continued to address like that because that was the boy you knew and cared about. No, he was Zuko to you now. The angry prince from the evil Fire Nation, someone you could’t rely on anymore. You thought of him like everyone else did.

Facing his back to his uncle, Zuko frowned. He tried to hide how much that thought hurt him. Hide it even from himself.

-

Every time a sound came, his heart raced. Zuko looked for you in every shadow, in every face he came across, in every vaguely familiar voice he heard. You had been separated for what felt like months, even if only a week had gone by. Each minute that passed only filled him with more regret. 

As he returned to where Iroh was waiting for him, Zuko dragged his feet. His heart felt heavy, but he tried to straighten up and pretend like it didn’t.

“You’re back!” Iroh warmly smiled at his nephew, even if the gesture faded at the sight of a crestfallen Zuko. 

He had been patiently waiting for him to return from his search for you, and when he finally did it was alone. What was worse, Zuko didn’t seem to want to stay. Your argument heavily weighted on him, it was easy to tell. A part of him was glad that Zuko regretted what happened and was adamant on finding you. On making things right. The other part wished he would stay by his side, where he was safe and accompanied.

“I’m sorry, uncle, but I came only to speak to you” Zuko told him, hanging his head low. “I was hoping Y/N had returned and met with you, but...”

"I wish I could give you good news, prince Zuko” Iroh shook his head, confirming that he had not seen you at all.

“I need to find Y/N” The thought of something horrible happening to you was too awful to bear. It was all the more terrible when he remembered how your last moments together went. 

Zuko clenched his fists, hating that you had that perception of him. That you were tired of fighting to bring the good in him, that you truly thought he didn’t care about you. That you left him forever without knowing how important you were to him.

Only dedicating his uncle a last resigned glance before leaving again, Zuko sighed. His feet began mindlessly moving as his head wandered. 

Maybe you and Iroh were right. Maybe the firelord wasn’t worth all this trouble, maybe the Avatar wouldn’t restore his honor. Maybe, like you said, he was only a boy trying to help people. 

If only he could talk to you one more time... It was his only thought, repeating over and over again, as he continued moving. He didn’t even watch where he was going, he was just trying to leave that feeling behind.

“Lee?” Zuko halted at the sound of a familiar voice. However, and unlike many other times during that week, when he looked up he wasn’t dissapointed this once.

“Y/N” He uttered, watching you from a distance, almost thinking it was too good to be true. 

Something, however, stopped him from taking another step. He knew it wasn’t the shock of seeing you. It might have been his pride, or that eternal struggle within him, or the fear of being too vulnerable in front of you. It didn’t matter. All of these obstacles became insignificant when he realized something. You were hurt, there were bruises all over your face. Just then, your knees buckled and you fell to the floor.

“Y/N!” Without even thinking, Zuko ran to you and took you by the shoulders. “Are you okay?”

Despite your weak state, you managed a faint smile as you looked into his amber eyes. He frowned in concern, but you didn’t mind him.

“I found you” You muttered, feebly leaning against him.

“You’re injured” Frozen in place, he didn’t allow his arms to wrap around you quite yet, even as your forehead rested against his shoulder. “What happened?”

“I got in trouble, big one” You paused for a moment, exhausted. “I should have been more careful, but I couldn’t focus and-”

“This was all my fault” He interrupted you, urgently taking you in his arms now. “None of this would have happened if-”

“If I had been more patient” Breaking away just enough to look into his eyes, you were quick to cut his guilt. Your hand cupped his face, your thumb gently caressing his scar. “I haven’t given up on you, I never did... not really. I was just angry and frustrated and...”

“Forgive me” One of his hands moved to brush a knuckle against a nasty looking bruise in your cheek. “I know you only had my best interests at heart”

There was a pause in which he desperately squeezed you against him, trying to confirm that you were there with him again. That you were alive and well. You broke the silence, uncomfortable with the thoughts that undoubtedly plagued his mind. 

“Did your uncle nag you about this?” 

“He did”

“I owe him a hug then”

“I’m sorry, Y/N...” Zuko couldn’t bring himself to just accept your attempts and pretend like nothing had happened. The guilt still clutched on to his chest. “I let my anger separate us, but these days apart have really made me realize...”

“Enough of that...” You didn’t want him to dwell on it, so you tried to give him a smile again. “I’m tired”

“But...” 

“You’re so rude” You locked eyes with him, chuckling a little. “You didn’t even say hello, Lee”

“I told you my real name a long time ago...”

“Shut up and say it”

A glint in your eyes finally made him understand. You had forgiven him, you did soon after being separated. He had shown regret, he had shown that he cared, that he was at least willing to listen now. And if not, Iroh would help in nudging him in the right direction. Zuko relaxed, also loosening his subconscious tight grip on you, and nodded his head.

“Hello, Y/N” Not letting go of you, he helped you to your feet. “Welcome back” 

You sighed in relief and leaned your weight on him. Those days had been long and scary, but you were back. You were safe, with people who cared about you. With people who would protect you and nurse you back to health.

Zuko didn’t think twice to wrap an arm around your waist to support you. You needed him, and he wouldn’t let you down this time. 

“I hope Iroh has some tea ready” You groggily said as you two slowly walked back to him. “I could use some right now”

“I’m sure he does” Lee smiled. “He’ll be happy to see you”

-

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