#elu fluff week

[threeletterslife]

20 | Legends of Darlaria

⨰ summary: You wake up amidst a war with no recollection of your past. Faced with suspicion and distrust, you struggle to assimilate into a foreign nation—otherwise known as your home. But on your enlightening journey to search for your identity, you come face to face with the General of the Army.

⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15

⨰ genre: 70% angst, 30% fluff | war!au & magic!au

⨰ warnings: profanity, mentions of death and dead people

⨰ wordcount: 5.8k

⨰ join the taglist! (pm/send in an ask/reply/reblog)

⨰ previous | series m.list | next

⧖⧗Circa Zircon⧗⧖

You gasp awake, hair clinging to the sides of your face, your blankets tangled up tightly around your legs. 

You’d dreamed of him again. The man with the boxy smile. It was the same dream as last time, where he’d helped you drag a dead body across the battlefield. Except for this time, you recognized the body. 

It had been Doyun’s.

Suddenly, anger floods into your system—the kind of fiery anger you’ve never felt more. Your face grows hot, and your heart beats faster in your chest. You feel like squeezing something, chucking something across the tent. You feel like screaming. So you immediately sit up from your cot, ripping your hair out of your face. Your fists begin to shake as you stare at them, teeth gritted, eyes squinted.

Why is she dead?

No.

How dare they kill her? Who the hell did the Darlaeans think they were to just—just cut her damn life short? 

“Who’s to say? There are years of existence ahead of us.” You remember her words so clearly now. 

“That’s also true… Even a year changed so much. I guess we’ll never know what will happen in the future. Whether we’ll become legends or not.”

The memory makes something twist inside of you. Something dark, something violent. Without thinking, you grab the dirt container from under your futon, getting ready to hurl it across your tent. But when your trembling arm is in the air, you can’t seem to do it. You’re squeezing the container so hard that it might just crumble, yet it never does. Slowly, gradually, your arm falls back to your side. Your arm is still shaking.

You stare at the container in your hand, knowing full well what it holds inside. The desire to get rid of it hasn’t gone away, but maybe you’re just weak. You can’t seem to cut the ties of the only clue you have to your past. With a sigh, you stash the container back under your futon, trying to take deep breaths to calm yourself down. When that doesn’t work, you try lying back down, attempting to think happy thoughts—the warmth of Heli, the crackling kindling of the evening bonfires, the beauty of Alder in the winter. But no matter what you do, the anger stays.

It must’ve been piling up inside of you—for weeks. And maybe yesterday had something to do with it too. All of the officers had gone on a trip to Elu to begin the dreaded drafting process—the one that had been delayed due to the unfortunate incident nearly four circas ago. You’d prepared yourself for the worst: for riots, for screaming, for angry, pointing fingers. Captain Bak even told you that they might throw food at you—tomatoes, stale bread, cooked potatoes. But when you’d arrived at Elu, somehow it was worse than what you’d expected. 

The Elunians were wearing white. Their homes were decorated with white chrysanthemums. In fact, every single one of them had the white flower pinned to their chest. They bowed down to you and the other officers as you passed. And when the General gently reminded them of the mandatory draft, there was no opposition at all. 

It was solemn. Too solemn. It wasn’t anything like the happy, bustling Elu you last saw. Children were crying. So were the adults. You weren’t sure if they were sobbing for Doyun or for their loved ones who might meet the same fate. 

You would’ve felt better if they’d been angry.

As if to make things worse, there is no truce this year. The Darlaean General turns down the General’s offer. It worsens your state of mind. You no longer have an appetite.

Nothing seems to be working. At every turn, at every corner, there is some form of bad news waiting. It becomes hard for you to smile, to exchange small talk, and maybe that affects your relationship with the other officers. But you could also care less.

“Hey.”

You slowly look up from your battle plans. It’s Nayoon, and though you’re fatigued and distressed, she’s your friend. It wouldn’t be right to turn her away.

“Hi,” you say, feigning a smile.

She sits down next to you on the snow-covered grass. “I know you haven’t been talking much,” she says. “I just wanted to check in on you…”

“I’m fine,” you say. “I was just working on a new formation for your sector.” You never got to congratulate Nayoon on her promotion, but it feels wrong to do it now when it happened weeks ago. 

She looks like she doesn’t believe you. “Well, I just finished reading the Lieutenant’s note.” She says those heavy words so casually, so conversationally, that it takes you a moment to register the weight behind them. “I put off reading it for a while,” she says. “I was scared to.”

You remember that note. You couldn’t even get through the entire thing.

“I didn’t like it,” you say. And maybe that’s insensitive to say, considering it was what Doyun wrote as her last words. But—“It felt impersonal. Like I wasn’t reading her real thoughts.”

Nayoon turns to look at you; there’s a bit of hurt on her face. “Really?”

And even though you know you should stop: “It was full of euphemisms,” you say. “I couldn’t even finish it.”

“You didn’t finish it?”

“I just… couldn’t.”

Silence.

But it’s the horrible kind, where you’re each waiting for the other to fill it, except neither of you ever does. 

When the silence becomes too unbearable, Nayoon finally speaks. “I think I understand,” she says in a quiet voice. “I thought the note was comforting. When she told me that death would bring her closure, I believed her. And I still choose to. Because I think that believing that brings me closure about her absence as well. But I guess you knew her better than I did to know her words weren’t all the truth.” 

You let her words sink in. Then: “But what about my closure?” you say, painfully aware of how selfish that may sound. “What if I never get it? What if I hold onto Doyun like she always held on to Minhee? What if I…” You feel the tears coming again.

“I think your closure will come,” Nayoon says. “It’ll come in a moment you’d never expect it.” She glances down at where her right arm used to be. “Loss isn’t easy, Y/N. I think I’m still dealing with mine. You always start thinking about what could’ve been, you know? It just comes naturally; we can’t really do much to stop it. But…” She smiles. “It took me a long time to realize this. I think genuine closure is a myth. Unless you get your memories wiped, you’ll always, always hold that pain in your heart. You’ll have days when it hurts more than usual, and you’ll have days when it feels like it never happened at all. But that’s what closure is to me,” she says. “It’s acceptance. But I allow myself to feel sad sometimes, because who wouldn’t? 

“It’s okay if you feel like you can’t get to this point now,” Nayoon tells you. “But one day, before you know it, you’ll be there.” 

There’s a long moment of silence before she sighs at your unresponsiveness. “Everyone grieves differently. Everyone copes differently, too,” she says. “Just give yourself time. Let yourself understand your emotions. It may not work for everyone, but it worked for me. Maybe you can start with that.”

Her words unlock a memory deep in your mind.

Everyone has a different way of coping with loss and death. My advice to you is to find your way of coping now. Because there will be many more deaths and losses.

The General had told you that—who knows how long when. It couldn’t have been more than a year ago, but it feels so far away as if several years have passed since it happened. You also can’t quite recall your exact response. 

But you do remember one thing. You’d confessed to him that you would never be ready for any kind of loss. Yet, you’d also made a declaration: When the time comes, I promise I’ll be strong. Those words had come out of your mouth at some point in the past. You’d completely forgotten.

But you’re trying. You haven’t broken down since the day Doyun died. You’ve been diligent about your work, never taking extensions, never wanting to disappoint. You’ve been quiet, numb and you haven’t (recently) caused a scene with your melancholy as an excuse. You’ve been trying to set a good example—especially to the freshly drafted soldiers—trying to fake that you’re okay, that you’ve been quiet and unsmiling because you’ve been busy, not because you’re miserable.

So the time did come, and you did try to be strong.

But what’s the use of being strong for others when you don’t feel strong yourself?

“Major Ahn once told me something,” Nayoon says, forcing you back into reality. “Right after I came back from Elu, he asked if I was faking it. I asked him what he meant by that, and he asked if I was faking being okay. Faking accepting myself. I had to think about it because I had been faking at one point—remember my happy little letters to you? But after my big outburst, I think I let off too much steam. I started feeling weirdly empty. I wasn’t sure if I was faking it or if it was genuine acceptance. After a while, I couldn’t tell the difference.” She sighs. “But Major Ahn told me that the art of faking is beautifully dangerous. You fake because you think of others; you think if you’re in a position of authority, you can’t let anyone down—surely not with your emotions. But if you keep it all in, one day, you’re just going to explode. He told me that if I ever felt angry, depressed, or nostalgic for the better times, I should come to talk to him. He told me that it’s okay if I fake my strength as long as I work to fix that gap between what I show to others and how I actually feel.”

You finally look Nayoon in the eye. “Have you fixed the gap yet?”

“Not quite,” she answers, shaking her head. “But I’m getting there. Slowly. You know, just at my own pace. But what I mean is, Y/N, if there’s a discrepancy in the way you feel and the way you try to act, then you can try to fix it. Reflect about it alone, then when you’re really ready, open up to someone. Tell them about it. Or write it down. I don’t know. Just don’t keep it inside.”

Don’t keep it inside.

You suppose that’s all you’ve been doing. The anger you felt today, the sadness you’ve felt underneath the numbness of the past few weeks… You haven’t told anyone about it; you haven’t tried to dwell on it, either. All you’ve done is keep it inside.

But you don’t want to be a burden, either. As soon as you share your inner turmoil with others, they’ll be put on the spot—to react, to help you in some way. What if you don’t want the help? What if you want to figure this out by yourself? 

Nayoon seems to sense your mental anguish. She nods, placing a warm hand on your shoulder. “Take your time,” she says. “Take all the time you need.” Then, as if reading your thoughts, she leaves you alone, though she keeps glancing back to see if you have changed your mind.

But you haven’t.

And you are okay with that.

It’s the first thing you’ve been okay with for weeks.

You finish the rest of Doyun’s note.

It’s been a week since your conversation with Nayoon. You’ve been chewing on her words ever since you listened to them. It had been good advice: don’t expect the closure to come, but let it happen to you. Allow yourself to feel sad, allow yourself to participate in the worldwide phenomenon known as the art of faking, yet give yourself space to mend the gap between what you show to others and what you know you’re feeling yourself. Take your time, too. It’s all wonderful advice, even if you couldn’t bring yourself to thank her. Maybe one day you will.

But before that, you had suddenly become compelled to read the rest of Doyun’s note. So you did. The verdict? You still don’t like it. There had only been a paragraph left, anyway, and it just wasn’t enough to change your opinion about it. 

I’m content about my death, dear soldier. So there’s no reason for you to be upset on my behalf. I enjoyed my time as Yoongi’s lieutenant, but I’ll enjoy retirement even more. I’m off to sing with the spirits now! Whoever you are, you’ve done good work, soldier. Don’t miss me too much. And if you do, crack open ‘Hongji’s Tale.’ You’d be surprised.

Sincerely,

Kang Doyun

Instead of closure, you’re left with a new opening. 

Doyun had once told you that she was like Hongji. Though you’ve already returned Nayoon’s copy of the stories back to her, you still remember that tale—as clear as Ara’s lakes. Will recalling it really help? It doesn’t really hurt to try. You can’t exactly lose her again, and if it doesn’t work out, you already feel pain, so more of it won’t do much, either.

So you lie down on your futon, hands resting on your stomach. Then, you close your eyes and begin to imagine.

Doyun was always an old soul stuck in a young body, people would say. She was wise beyond her years, but not in such a typical omnipotent way. She was loud, spunky and always said what was on her mind—all in good humor, too.

As the Solarians grew, thanks to Hwayoung and Hosoo’s contributions, the people realized that they needed a leader of sorts to keep them all together. They were apprehensive at first, for the last leader they’d dealt with had been a mind-numbing Darlaean tyrant. So they were careful in choosing their pick.

In the end, they appointed Doyun’s father to be the face of the Solarians. He was kind, wise, sensitive and wanted what was best for his people. But his weakness resided in the fact that he knew very little about how to govern a nation. So his daughter, Doyun, became his most trusted advisor.

She was tall—even for her age—and she would often loom over the other members of their newly made government. But she was also a bright, friendly person, who didn’t mind being her father’s right-hand advisor, despite her qualifications to take his place, because she never wanted to be the face of anything. 

Solaria was still a growing nation, and Doyun wanted to make sure its roots were clean and uncorrupted. She listened to the people, compromised with them and came up with solutions to benefit just about everybody. When the people wanted to take more than what they were given—to cut down the forest to build a town—Doyun stopped them. Instead, she guided them to a flat dirt terrain, just next to the woods, where she allowed them to build their town there. The town became known as Elu and it quickly became the capital sector. The woodsy grassland became known as Alder. And soon, with enough travel, Doyun realized that there were three other distinct terrains: a desert, a mountainous region and a cold, arctic tundra. She named them Aithne, Aella and Ara. Each sector was for one of the four distinguished spirits, and the final one, Elu, was where everyone could live in harmony.

When the people wanted to demand more from the spirits, ask them about wielding earth and air, it was Doyun who stopped them. She wasn’t gentle with them, either. She knew how to call out people’s faults—she wasn’t afraid of doing it. If someone had to hear the truth, to be brought back to reality, she was the one who did it. Doyun soon became the voice of wisdom, of altruism and of reason. And while the Solarians admired her father for being kind, they also admired her, for she made an excellent advisor.

Sahn, the spirits of earth, was impressed. They had always been fascinated with human nature, unlike Sooht and Soo, whose interest only began when they spotted Hwayoung and Hosoo. But seeing Doyun made Sahn realize that humans are much more capable than they’d first thought. They were capable of living in harmony with nature, of creating an entire civilization without hurting a single tree or throwing dirt over a small pond.

Sahn knew what they had to do. They visited Doyun in the middle of the night, where she had been sleeping in her tent in Alder—her home. And they shared their ability to wield earth—an element of wisdom, of groundedness, of reason. Doyun woke up the next day with a clear mind. She became the first earth medium amidst the Solarians.

You approach her in your imagination, reaching out to her, though the outline of her body is fuzzy and backlit by a shining white light.

“An old soul, huh?” you tell her.

She grins. “I guess.” She cocks her head when she takes in your disheveled state. “How are you holding up?” 

“Me?” You shrug, though you still feel so damn empty inside. “I’m fine. Just a little tired. But we’ve been looking over the training of the new soldiers, so I guess that’s warranted. There’s just so many of them.”

“How’s Maj—Lieutenant Ki?” she asks.

“She’s great,” you say, “but she’ll never be like you.”

“Never be like me, huh?” Doyun snorts. “Well, she shouldn’t try to be someone she isn’t, anyway. Face it, Y/N. No one will ever be like me—not even Hongji.”

“But that’s the thing, Doyun! No one will ever be like you, so how am I supposed to deal with you being gone?”

Her gaze softens. “Am I really gone?”

“You’re dead, Doyun. I’ll never see you again. I don’t even remember the last words I spoke to you. All I remember is that stupid thing we said. That we’ll have years of existence ahead of us, that we’ll never know what’ll happen in the future… If we’ll become legends.”

“I guess we were wrong,” she answers. “If it helps, I don’t remember my last words to you, either. There. We’re even.”

“But it’s not just about us being wrong,” you say. “It’s about… I-I… I don’t know what it’s about! I’m just sad, Doyun. I miss you. I want you to come back. I want to see you again.”

“Aren’t you seeing me now?”

“Well, yes, but it’s different.”

“How?”

“You’re not… you’re not real.”

Doyun gasps, placing an offended hand on her chest. “Flaming hell, Y/N! Just because I’m dead doesn’t mean a figment of me in your imagination can’t be real! I’m as real as ever,” she says. “See?” She reaches out to you, her hand grazing your own. And you gasp as you can feel her. Your hand doesn’t go right through. She’s warm, her hands are rough, calloused, but that makes her more real than ever. “You can visit me anytime you want,” she says. “I’m not gone. I’m in your head.” She grins. “Creepy, isn’t it?”

“For Sooht’s sake,” you say, shaking your head. “You’re so unsentimental.”

“I embrace it,” she answers. “But since we’re already here, can you do me a huge favor?” she asks.

“Of course!” you say, though it comes out desperately. “Of course I will, Doyun.”

“Tell Yoongi that I’m sorry,” she says. “Just let him know that I should’ve finished what I’ve started. I suppose I’ve accidentally left him hanging again.”

You have no idea what she means. But before you can even ask, she begins to step away.

“I think I hear Minhee calling my name,” she says. “I’m going to leave, all right?”

“Wai—” The words die in your throat. You nod. Because you know she’ll be back. You can visit her again—anytime you want, just as she said. “I’ll talk to you later,” you say.

“Of course,” she answers.

And when you finally open your eyes, for the first time in a long while, you feel full.

It is the last day of Circa Zircon. One circa has gone by in a blink of an eye. You still can’t believe that’s how long Doyun’s been gone. It feels like it was just yesterday when her burial had taken place, but it also feels like years ago, the last time you saw her in person.

You recall the last winter day you spent in Alder. You had been with the General, sitting together in the cold of the night, confessing that you have nothing to lose. So much has changed. Now, you have everything to lose. Does this make you weak? All those people you’ve come to care for, all those soldiers who you know the names of… If you lose them as you’ve lost Doyun, you’re unsure of how you could cope.

Every time you miss her, you visit her in your mind. She’s always there, waiting to talk to you, to help you accept. In a weird way, you’ve taken Nayoon’s advice. You haven’t been keeping it inside at all; words come out so easily with Doyun, and she listens, reacts, tells you what you need to hear, often without sugar-coating it.

You visit her grave today after dinner, settling down on the wet grass and staring at the mound. You talk to her as if she’s really there.

“I still haven’t been able to tell the General,” you say. “It’s just been hectic around here. Shifts of positions, new soldiers, new battle plans… I don’t really get to see him much.”

You imagine that she answers: “You haven’t been able to? Or have you been avoiding him?”

“Me?” you laugh. “I haven’t been…”

Oh, yes you have. When meetings are over, you rush out before he can get a chance to call for you. When he’s on cooking duty, you meticulously steer clear of the cooking tent. Even when you’re walking around the camp, you’re extremely cognizant of your surroundings, for what if he jumps out from nowhere and tries to talk to you?

“I wonder why,” Doyun muses. “I sincerely wonder why.”

You sigh. “Me too.”

You wait for Doyun to respond, but she doesn’t; instead, you hear a completely new voice coming from behind you.

“You look better these days.”

It’s the General. Strangely, you knew he would come. Maybe that’s why you came here. To finally stop this stupid cycle of avoiding him, though it’s still unclear to you why it began in the first place.

“Do I?” you say as he settles down next to you on the grass.

“You seem happier.”

“I think I feel that way too,” you say. You sigh, leaning back and closing your eyes. “I think I’m on my way to accepting it.”

“Accepting it…” he echoes. 

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, looking over at the man sitting next to you, cross-legged. “I never got to thank you… for consoling me…”

“I only sat next to you,” he says. “I didn’t do much.”

“You told me to be gentle with myself,” you say. “I’ve been trying. But I also promised you that I’d be strong in the face of disaster. I’ve been trying to keep it too.”

“Have you?”

“She told me to tell you she’s sorry.”

Yoongi freezes. 

How in the hell did she tell you that? Was it before she died?

“She told me to let you know that she should’ve finished what she started,” you say. “She says she’s sorry that she left you hanging again. She said it was an accident.”

He stares.

She’s talking about the letter to him. Right? What else could she be talking about? But how do you know about the letter? Or do you know? And how did Doyun tell you?

He suddenly feels a swell of emotions in his chest, and the memories begin to flood back to him—the good and bad ones alike.

“Come on, say it!” she’d said with a wide grin and sparkling eyes. “Say it or I think I’m going to lose my patience!”

He was never one to be so sure of his words before, but these rang inside of him like a large, golden bell—the truth. Genuine honesty. “Doyun, I… I want you to be my lieutenant.”

She’d laughed in happiness. “Look how far we’ve come, Yoongi. Just look. We’ll be amazing together. I’m excited. Aren’t you?”

There also had been moments where he wanted to shrink away because she’d made him feel so small.

“You,” she’d screamed, poking into his chest with her index finger. “You are a fucking idiot! You fucking disgrace! You monster!” She’d hit him, punched him that day, but she wasn’t mean enough to leave bruises. Just enough to leave him feeling sad, leave him feeling horrible. “You killed her! It was fucking you!”

He couldn’t even say anything. Because it was true. He made a mistake; he’d made so many mistakes. He didn’t know that they’d slay an entire unit in the third sector. He didn’t know she wouldn’t come back…

“I wish you never asked me to become your stupid fucking lieutenant! You kill everyone around you. Monster!”

This had also been the first time she’d talked to him in weeks after the death of her girlfriend. The first few things she’d said to him. He felt like he was burning alive, like her words were scorching him raw.

When her anger calmed down, she became quieter. She’d whispered—and Yoongi could never forget this—she’d said: “I want to resign. I can’t stand working for you anymore.”

He didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to say. So he dropped to his knees, and he begged her to stay. He must’ve looked pathetic. She was crying when he’d finished. Tears of anger? Of sadness? Both? He still doesn’t know. She’d left him in his tent after that, but he knew inside that she wasn’t going to resign. She couldn’t. Because if she did, where would she go?

But there were good times too. Especially in their younger days. He still remembers the first time they’d met.

“No, no! You’re doing it all wrong, stupid,” she’d chastised him. “Be gentle with it. Pull the leaves gently. You’re not yanking Darlaean hair; you’re trying to pull up a carrot.”

They were both so young then. He wanted to learn more about being an earth medium—a facet of himself that his mother forbade him to explore. And she was there, willing to teach him, even though she was scary and sometimes could be a little brash with her words.

When he first met her, she didn’t know he was General Min’s son. She wouldn’t have dared call him stupid if she’d known. But they laughed about it years later.

“You’re anything but stupid,” Doyun had told him. “Well, at least now you aren’t,” she’d said. “The way you were yanking those carrots up though, that was pretty idiotic. But it’s okay, Yoongi. You’ve learned.”

He also remembers the great potato incident. 

“Hey, Yoongi!”

“D-Doyun!” She’d always been taller than he was. A lot more intimidating, too.

“Can you do me a small favor?”

But maybe he really was an idiot, because he got caught stealing extra rations for other people twice in a row. He could just imagine the look of disappointment on Doyun’s face. Yet she’d surprised him, stealing extra rations herself and bringing them to him. He had been so scared of her then.

“This wasn’t so hard,” she’d said, throwing him a couple of warm potatoes. “Eat up, Yoongi.” She’d spared him a small glance before leaving him in his tent, alone, with a couple of potatoes in his arms.

Then there were the times they discussed you.

“I’m sorry I doubted you, Doyun.” Never in a thousand years did he think she would stay up the whole night looking for your missing file—to prove your innocence.

“What did I tell you? I’m rarely ever wrong.”

“I trust her,” she’d said after they’d interrogated you. “Do you?”

“Of course I do.”

He only began trusting you because of her.

“I’m not going to beg for forgiveness,” she’d told him a week after her first and last outburst ever directed towards him. “Not as you did, anyway. But I want you to know that I’m sorry. I was angry. I… said some things that I regret. But I should’ve known. I don’t work for you, Yoongi. Never have. I work with you.”

Work with him. Come to think of it, they’d always been in tandem. They’d always seen eye-to-eye, for she often said everything he was thinking. He would never have to tell her to bring her reports in, she’d never have to ask for him to sign them; it was like they read each other’s minds. And in moments of disagreement—such as the instance of you—they always came together in the end. Usually, Doyun was the one who was right.

He doesn’t realize he’d been crying until you tell him so. He’d also forgotten that you were there, next to him. His breath hitches when he hears your voice.

“Oh, sir, you’re crying.”

It takes a moment for him to answer. For Sooht’s sake, he forgot how hard it is to speak when crying. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he wheezes. “I…”

“It’s okay,” you say, voice soft. “You’re grieving.”

He wonders why it’s happening now, in front of you, after all those weeks. Maybe he was too busy with his work that he never got the time to think that she was really gone. Maybe he’s been suppressing it. Maybe he’s being vulnerable now. Maybe it was because you delivered her apology.

But Doyun didn’t have to apologize. She’d already done enough when she was alive. She didn’t owe him a finished letter. She didn’t owe him anything.

In fact, he was the one who owed her everything. She accepted him when no one else did. She loved him when his mother forgot to. She talked to him when Yoonsoo ignored him. She helped him, she reassured him. She’s the reason that he’s here today, beloved by the nation, when he’s really a fool and she deserves more of the credit.

He cries harder. They’re pathetic tears. He wonders what you think of him. You must find him pitiful. Why is he always so weak around you? It disgusts him.

You let him cry, let him express his emotions. But you don’t leave him completely unattended. Your hand reaches out, and you place it on his arm. He shifts closer to you. It’s a good sign.

You experience the first few hours of the new year with him. You really meant it when you told him, two circas ago, that you’ll follow him until you die. That you could never find him pitiful. 

You stare across at Doyun’s grave, and you can see her smiling. “Thank you,” she whispers. “Thank you for telling him.”

“You’re welcome,” you whisper back.

⧖⧗Circa Garnet & More⧗⧖

This is your life now.

After a while, the dull aching in your chest goes away. You find yourself talking less and less to Doyun; only because she seems so happy now, always telling you about Minhee and what new thing they tried that day. You don’t want to bother her too much. She seems content. Satisfied.

As the cold snow sheds itself from the Alderian forest and spring begins to prepare itself to sprout, you begin to think that yes, maybe Doyun deserves the rest.

As warm spring morphs into a hot summer, you ask the General to grow white pansies around Doyun’s grave. They look beautiful, and they match Minhee’s grave as well.

As the leaves begin to redden and the weather grows chillier, you become accustomed to her absence. You no longer find yourself thinking of her every day, every hour, every minute, every second. When you miss her, you miss her, but there are more times than not when you just simply feel… fine. 

Is this the acceptance that Nayoon told you about?

By the time winter rolls around again, you’ve come back. The new soldiers had known you as the quiet, workaholic officer, which hadn’t really been the real you. Now, you’re laughing again, staying after the officer meetings to have lunch with your friends. You can smile without feeling guilty; you can sleep without being haunted by the thoughts of her.

You take up training again, and it helps, moving your body, real physical exertion, being able to wield fire in so many versatile ways. You train with Nayoon, who tells you that you’re improving quickly. She’s an excellent third sector captain, easily handling the stress and pressure of being the officer of the most dangerous sector. She even works well with Major Chu and Captain Yoo, but then again, you haven’t ever seen her not get along with others.

Lieutenant Ki is quieter, a lot calmer than Doyun ever was. She’s soft-spoken yet opinionated, and she tries hard to build a stronger bond with the General. They were out of sync for circas, never having worked so closely together. There were small arguments here and there and even more disagreements. Officer meetings would stretch on for hours and hours… But you think they trust each other now. People genuinely love Suhyun—the Flare Shot—and they have absolutely no problem accepting her new position.

Still, there are often people at Doyun’s grave, paying their respects. You nod to them whenever you arrive as you frequent there yourself.

In the public’s eye, you are the bright officer with boundless ideas. But away from their gaze, away from their admiring looks, you are you. You cry sometimes while going to sleep. Some days are harder than others, but generally, you’re okay now.

A year passes by so quickly. Just like that.

Visiting Doyun’s grave, training along with the soldiers, honing your crafts, spending time in the medical tent, picking up some valuable skills from Joon, riding through Alder’s forest on the back of Heli, writing battle plans in the dead of the night, feeling warmth, feeling something foreign growing in your chest when you speak with the General.

It’s all so normal now.

This, this is your life.

Death. Rebirth. Fighting on. Survival.

Watching people leave you, watching new ones take their place. Remembering, feeling nostalgic, crying. 

It’s become a cycle.

It’s normal.

It’s acceptance.

⨰ previous | series m.list | next

⨰ a/n: this chapter was very taxing to write. death is something that is difficult to deal with in real life, which also makes it difficult to portray in writing. but i'm pretty satisfied with the outcome. i did keep my promise! you'll be seeing more of doyun after all :)

please consider telling me your thoughts with a comment, an ask or a reblog :) i love hearing readers' impressions/rambles/predictions! if you want to join the taglist, send in a private message, ask, reply to this post or reblog with your request!

[starspray]

Echo of the Music

Major Characters: Elu Thingol, Melian

Major Relationships: Melian/Thingol

Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, Het

Rating: General

Summary: Yet this newest tapestry was different. Elu saw that immediately upon walking into the room. Melian’s hands moved swiftly across the the tapestry, woven in brilliant colors and shapes, picking out new details and marvelous things in clever embroidery, her silver needles flashing in the lamplight.

Written for Tolkien Ekphrasis Week 2023 for the prompt: In-Universe Religious/Devotional Art

[choupichoups]

Blue [2/2]

Prompt: soulmate au // “please tell me this is safe”(...) // “i'm cold”(...)

Lucas has seen colour ever since he can remember.

His memories before meeting Eliott pale in comparison to everything that comes after. But he’d never ever utter a word of that observation— god knows his soulmate doesn’t need anymore fodder for his gigantic ego. 

Besides, how can he have room to remember anything else when everyone just loves to remind him all about the incident— as if the idea of Lucas crying over his first kiss is a perpetually hilarious concept.

He’s perfected the blasé, I was five, he often uses to defend himself.

“Please tell me this is safe,” he says, stepping over a frozen tree root as he follows Eliott deeper into the woods. 

“This is safe.” 

Lucas watches him hop down an icy slope, long legs able to step over the deep grove without risk of falling and breaking his head open— which, yeah, no, Lucas is not going any further. “Please tell me this is safe, without lying.” 

“You’re really demanding, you know that?” Eliott looks up at him from where he’s waiting on lower ground. “You don’t trust me?”

“Uh, not really, no.” 

Eliott laughs, moving closer to where Lucas’s stood at the edge of the boulder. “Come on, I got you.” 

“What if you slip?”

“I won’t.”

“What if I slip?”

“I won’t let that happen.” 

Lucas sighs, bouncing in his spot as he weighs his options. “Eliott, just come back up here, please,” he says, voice soft as he peeks over the steep edge and loses all his nerve. “Let’s get back to the guys.” His mind plays out a scene akin to a horror movie, where one wrong step would send Eliott rolling off the edge of some hidden cliff, or Lucas would be standing under the wrong tree and an icicle would drop down to stab him to death. Call him a coward all you want but it’s really fucking dark out here and Lucas has never claimed to be brave. 

The playfulness on Eliott’s expression softens, and he reaches up, straining until he’s able to grab one of Lucas’ hands in a reassuring grip. “I swear nothing will happen, Lucas.” He runs his thumb over the back of Lucas’ hand, smiling up at him with those endearing wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. “When have I ever let you fall?” 

At seven years of age, Lucas’ parents fight so much that they don’t even notice their only son sneaking out to escape the loud, loud yelling.

He’s climbed into the play structure at the park his mama used to always take him to— back when she’d been less stressed out, back when papa had still eaten dinner with the two of them every night.

Lucas curls himself into a ball, hiding tear streaked cheeks into the crook of his elbows. He’s not necessarily crying about the fight, he doesn’t understand what they’re talking about, it’s just that he’s really scared right now. 

He’s at the highest point of the play structure and he kind of wants to go down but every way back down to the ground looks too scary. He doesn’t want to fall and die. Mama used to always pick him up when he gets stuck like this, but she doesn’t even know he’s here. 

“Lucas?” 

He looks up at the sound of his name and sees Eliott down below, holding a basketball in his arms. 

“Hi,” Lucas says lamely, sniffing as he wipes at his tears.

Eliott gasps. “Why are you crying? Wait for me, I’ll come get you!”

“No!” Lucas stops him, afraid that both of them would get stuck if Eliott climbs up after him.

“What?” The basketball falls uselessly on the sandy ground. One of Eliott’s legs is already poised to step up the ladders. “Why not?”

“I can’t get down,” Lucas whispers, feeling more tears fill up his eyes. “I wanna go down!”

“Oh.” Eliott frowns, jumping easily onto the second level of the structure, contemplates a bit, and then climbs onto the third level. “Come, give me your hand.” 

Lucas shakes his head. Eliott looks too far away, Lucas will die. 

“Come on, Lulu. I got you.” Eliott’s reaching upwards, both hands open for Lucas to take. “I promise I won’t let you fall.”

Lucas jumps off the rock and Eliott catches him easily. 

“See? That wasn’t so bad.” Eliott grins, carefully setting Lucas down on a patch of snow, ensuring that no ice is hidden underneath the powdery surface. 

“Revisit the topic when it’s time for us to get back up and I can’t climb over the damn rock.”

Eliott ruffles his hair, chuckling. “I’ll take care of everything.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Lucas scoffs, grumpily kicking small blocks of ice away from his path as they continue walking. “How much further?”

“Not much longer, your highness.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, ducking under the branch that Eliott pulls out of the way for him.

Eliott’s sneaking glances at him, eyes curved slightly in a hint of a smile so Lucas puts in the effort to pull different faces for each time his aggravating boyfriend looks back. It gets him happy little giggles from Eliott and Lucas has to bite his lip against a smile. He can’t have Eliott thinking that he’s enjoying this ridiculous trek in the woods now. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” Eliott says, snapping a particularly stubborn branch off one of the trees when it wouldn’t bend. Lucas could have just dodged it himself but he’s not about to argue with Eliott’s adorable and sometimes (always) successful attempts at chivalry. “I know it’s late, I really wanted to take you out here earlier but the guys wouldn’t leave us alone.” 

“You could have told me, I would’ve kindly asked them to fuck off for you,” Lucas says, walking faster when he sees Eliott cupping his hands around his mouth to blow warm air into them. In a weird twist of events, Lucas’s the one who’d been smart enough to bring his gloves for the cabin trip and Eliott had somehow managed to pack three winter jackets but had jack all for toques and mittens. 

“I know.” Eliott’s laughing again, stuffing his hands in his pockets to keep them away from the biting cold. Lucas stumbles clumsily over the bumpy forest floor, almost falling into Eliott’s back and startling his boyfriend into turning around. “Hey, you okay?” 

“Yeah, fine, I just—” Lucas gives up trying to explain himself, reaching out to wrap both of his gloved hands around one of Eliott’s freezing ones. “Should’ve borrowed Yann’s gloves before taking me here.” 

Eliott shrugs. “I was hoping you’d do this actually so… success, I guess.”

Lucas squints at him. That’s total bullshit. “Just admit you didn’t think of it and go.” 

Eliott raises his hands in surrender, laughter loud amongst the silent trees. Lucas grabs his hand back in his hold. “What do I do with my other hand then?”

A side eye is all he gets. “Suffer.” 

“Aw, come on.”

“I’ll switch to your other side later.”

“You’re so sweet sometimes that I forget you’re the biggest bitch I know.” 

“Oh yeah? This bitch is done warming your hands then.” Lucas lets go of him, sealing the deal by lagging a few steps behind.

“I’m kidding!” Eliott jogs backwards, making the dumb gesture somehow look cute. Lucas scowls at himself, disgusted at how in love he is with this goofball. “I’m kidding, please hold my hand, Lulu.” 

Lucas makes sure to heave his biggest sigh, “I guess if I have to.” 

But Eliott doesn’t resume with the banter, only dipping his head down to Lucas’ eye level and nudging his cheek with his nose like the overgrown puppy he is. “I mean it. Thank you for coming.”

Lucas looks up at him when Eliott pulls away, hands clenching tighter around Eliott’s fingers— now toasty warm. 

“You know I’ll follow you everywhere, dumbass.”

Lucas is fourteen when Eliott calls him at half past two in the morning, words indecipherable in between his heaving sobs. It’s a good thing they live close by, because nothing would have stopped Lucas from pulling his shoes on and running right over. 

They’re in Eliott’s bed the morning after, sitting cross legged from each other as Eliott fiddles with the many tubs of paint in his collection. Lucas watches him silently, offering a small nod when Eliott swears under his breath and leaves the room, promising he’d be right back.

They still haven’t talked about what happened the night before. 

Lucas flops back down on the bed, snuggling closer into the large hoodie Eliott’s lent him after his shower— his soulmate hadn’t even tried to look for something that would fit Lucas better. 

“This should be good enough,” Eliott says as he returns, tone slightly giddy, and when Lucas looks up he catches the tiny smile gracing Eliott’s features. Lucas sighs, relief spreading over his chest like a soothing balm— it’s definitely progress from how Eliott had been acting last night. 

“What’s that for?” Straightening up, Lucas nods towards the small bottle of nail polish in Eliott’s grip. 

“Remember when I asked for your help last month?”

“For your project?” 

“Yeah!” Eliott jumps back into bed, pulling Lucas closer by his legs. Lucas would have kicked him in the face for it if the memory of Eliott’s tears still wasn’t so fresh in his mind. “I need your hands for the cover photo.”

“So you’re using me as a free hand model.”

“I’ll buy you ice cream after.” Eliott looks up, shooting him a quick wink. 

Great. So they’re still not talking about it. 

Eliott folds the sleeves of the hoodie twice over to get the material away from Lucas’ hands. They work in comfortable silence— Eliott trying his hardest to make the blue nail polish look smooth and even while Lucas opts to staring at him unashamedly. 

He’s kind of missed Eliott, actually. 

Eliott has started high school already while Lucas’s still trudging along in middle school, pretending his handsome dork of a shadow isn’t a gaping absence in his everyday life. It’s not like they’ve grown apart; they see each other out of school sometimes (when Eliott’s not drowning in homework) and they text each other a lot of times. 

Still, it’s different from how they’ve always been inseparable during their younger years. 

“I went to the doctor yesterday.” 

Lucas perks up, nodding as Eliott moves on to painting his other hand. But when the other boy doesn’t continue, Lucas decides to give him a verbal cue. “Okay.” 

Eliott blinks, like he’s just remembering that he’d said something in the first place. “Something weird happened last week.”

Lucas doesn’t quite get how it relates to the doctor thing but he lets it be. “Okay.”

“I was invincible, Lucas,” Eliott explains vaguely and despite the positive words he’s using, his tone implies otherwise. Which makes sense, since Lucas vividly remembers Mrs. Demaury telling Lucas that Eliott hadn’t been feeling well at all the past week. “And then I wasn’t.” 

“Okay.” The urge to hold Eliott’s hands in his is almost overwhelming but his nails haven’t dried yet and he really doesn’t want to ruin Eliott’s hard work. 

“It’s like… my mind was going to so many places.” Eliott replaces the cap on the nail polish, letting it roll on the sheets between them as he talks. “But my body can’t move.” There’s a slight tremor in Eliott’s hands and Lucas decides fuck it, to hell with the goddamn nail polish. He reaches out and intertwines their fingers together, squeezing the hands in his when he feels Eliott hold onto him a little harder.  

“Okay.”

“I didn’t— I was feeling everything and nothing all at once and I just wanted to sleep.” Eliott closes his eyes, his grip on Lucas bordering on painful but the latter doesn’t stray from it. “But I wasn’t fucking sleeping.” He lifts their joined hands up to his forehead, head ducked down as if in prayer. “This,” Eliott continues, knocking his head lightly over their hands. “This was elsewhere and I couldn’t fucking control it.” 

Lucas pulls their hands towards him, brings them to his lips. He places the lightest of kisses over Eliott’s knuckles, willing for him to look up. “Okay.” 

“I’m bipolar, Lucas,” Eliott whispers, words shivering out of his lips. “It’s not okay.”

There’s a pinprick behind his eyes, tears stubbornly wanting to make their appearance despite Lucas’ best efforts. Still, he clenches his teeth against them. “Maybe. But it doesn’t change a thing.”

“It changes everything.”

The fact that Eliott uses the same words that Lucas’ father had used a couple of years ago, against his mama, has him losing the battle. The tears he’d been holding back fall from his eyes and his heart lurches painfully when Eliott’s immediate reaction is to wipe at them gently with his thumb. 

“No,” he says, just as soft. “It doesn’t, not for me. Not for us.” Lucas can be anything in his life— he’s young and brash and has his whole life ahead of him. He will not be his father. “I’ll be right here, as always.”

“It’s going to be hard.”

“Things don’t stay easy forever anyway.” 

“You weren’t there last week, it was so bad.”

“I’ll learn.”

“But—”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” He says, brows raising in accusation. It gets a small huff of laughter from Eliott and Lucas smiles at the sound. “Cause give it up, I’m not going anywhere.”

“What if I go where you can’t follow?”

“Impossible.” He doesn’t ever want to think about what that means. “Where you go, I go.” 

“Fuck,” Eliott breathes out, shaking his head. “Fuck fifteen.”

Lucas’s only confused for a second before Eliott leans over and captures his lips in a kiss. He’s swear to god not expecting it and certainly not when Eliott tumbles them back into the sheets, tongue hot and insistent against his closed lips. Not knowing what else to do, he allows Eliott in and immediately after can’t decide whether it’s the best or worst decision of his life. Either way, the very telling moan that claws its way out of his throat is enough to have him mortified. 

You see, Lucas has never had anyone but Eliott and his experience in this area is absolute rock bottom as Eliott hasn’t actually kissed him on the lips ever since that time when he was five. And he’d cried back then. 

He has half a mind to demand where Eliott learned to kiss like this because he’s pretty sure his soulmate hasn’t had anyone but Lucas either or he most certainly will be kicking him where it hurts. But all thoughts of demanding anything flies out the window when Eliott’s hands make their way under his borrowed hoodie and, well, just no, Lucas has to mentally prepare for this beforehand please and thank you.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he gasps out, finally finding the strength to turn away and use his jelly limbs to push Eliott off. 

“You okay?” Eliott asks, all worried like he hadn’t just attempted to murder Lucas with his tongue. 

“Yeah,” he says quickly, moving so that he’s face down on the bed with a hand over his pounding chest. Jesus. “Just, wait, I think I’m having a heart attack.” 

Eliott falls into the pillows laughing; unencumbered, bellowing, genuine— happy.

He wipes his half dried nails over the sheets in revenge.

“Lucas!” 

“Why is it so fucking cold?” Lucas mumbles mostly to himself. Blowing out a breath upwards and seeing the cloud of white in its wake irrationally pisses him off even more.

“I told you to bring a jacket,” Eliott says, nonchalant as he ambles through, all warm in his shirt and hoodie and two fucking jackets. 

“I did,” Lucas retorts. “I just didn’t know we were going to fucking Antartica, Eliott.”

His boyfriend outright laughs at his discomfort. Lucas pouts, carefully stepping around slippery patches of ice as he shivers in misery. If Eliott has to take him to the hospital for hypothermia after this, he’ll see who’s laughing then. 

Everything around him goes pitch black all of a sudden and Lucas stops, breath halting its steady rhythm as he looks up. His eyes haven’t adjusted yet so he can’t even see Eliott’s outline in the dark.

“Shit.” He hears Eliott from somewhere ahead of him and Lucas tries to walk over but he bumps into a tree two steps into it, feet sinking into a fragile glass of ice. The crunching sound it makes under his feet is jarring. “Lucas? Stay where you are, okay? Don’t move.” 

And yeah that’s some smart thinking right there. He’s glad at least one of them still has common sense. 

Eliott’s phone battery has probably ran out. Lucas’ phone is back at the cabin, charging, so he can’t even do anything to help fix this. His brain starts coming up with horror movie scenarios again and Lucas thumps his head against the tree, turning around to lean his back against it as he waits for Eliott. 

“Baby?” He hears Eliott’s voice again, still from the same direction as earlier.

“Right here,” he answers, thoughts of hypothermia taking a backseat for now. 

There’s a light click from somewhere on his left and Lucas can breathe properly again. The path in front of him is lit with the flashlight in Eliott’s hand and Lucas wastes no time running towards him. 

Eliott doesn’t make fun of him when Lucas jumps into his arms, only bending down a little so that Lucas doesn’t strain so much to reach him. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” Eliott murmurs into his hair. “I forgot my phone has shit battery life.”

Lucas laughs at that. “It’s okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t scared.” Lucas doesn’t need to see Eliott’s thumb moving over the flashlight to know what his jackass soulmate is about to do. “But I will murder you myself if you shut that light off right now and no one will find your body out here.”

He feels Eliott’s laughter from over his head but Eliott obediently keeps the light on. Thank fucking god. 

Now that the crisis is over, Lucas starts to shiver from the cold again and he’s beginning to very seriously think that he’s actually going to die that same night when his body is wrapped in immediate warmth. His head snaps up, and Eliott smiles down at him, outer jacket now placed over Lucas’ shoulders instead. 

“You’ll be cold,” Lucas protests weakly, not really wanting to lose the blessed warmth but also not wanting Eliott to feel as cold as he’d been earlier. “Take it back.”

“Do you really think I need two jackets to stay warm?”

“Hm?” Lucas still hasn’t moved from his position against Eliott’s chest, arms wrapped securely around the latter’s waist so he doesn’t move away. 

“I knew you’d be too lazy to dress properly so I brought this for you,” he says, rubbing circles around Lucas’ back over the jacket.

“Oh.”

“What? You doubted me?” Eliott pulls back, lifting Lucas’ face by the chin. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’ll take care of you before you drill it into that head of yours?” 

Lucas presses his lips together but his efforts hold no candle over the enormous smile that tugs them apart. 

At fifteen, Lucas quickly gets exhausted by the attention he’s receiving in high school. 

He knows the bulk of the interest comes from being one half of a soulmate duo. He doesn’t exactly shout it out to the rooftops but the rumour mill is brutal around high school. Everybody somehow knows who’s got the syndrome or not. It doesn’t even help him that Eliott makes it no secret just who exactly Lucas’ other half is. Ironically enough, it only makes things worse.

“I’m having a party this Friday,” Robert, or whatever his name is, leans against the locker beside Lucas’, unperturbed even when Lucas treats his presence like air. “If you and your friends wanna come.” 

What Lucas wants is for what’s his face to leave him the fuck alone. “No.”

“You answered that too quickly, I think you might wanna think about it for a bit longer.” 

Lucas slams his locker shut, spares the nuisance some eye contact for a few seconds longer than usual, and reconfirms his answer. “No.” 

He hears Yann and the others coming up behind him and breathes out a sigh. Finally, some rescue— or so he thought. 

“Hey man!” Arthur greets the guy behind Lucas while Basile looks starstruck. And, okay, Lucas understands the fascination; Robert is in his final year and is in one of the more popular cliques in school. Doesn’t change the fact that he’s fucking annoying, though. 

Lucas looks at Yann with an expression he hopes is meaningful enough to get him to bail Lucas out. 

But Yann doesn’t get it. Lucas’s seriously going to demote him from best friend status now. 

“Fine,” Robert sighs, straightening up from the locker to loom infuriatingly close behind Lucas’ back. “I won’t hold it against you if you change your mind.” 

“Change your mind about what?” Basile snaps out of his daze just in time to fuel the fire Lucas’s desperately trying to douse. 

“Nothin—”

“Lucas says you guys wouldn’t be interested in a party this Friday?” 

Fuck you, Robert. 

“What?!” Basile exclaims, looking at Lucas all offended. The latter shrugs, remaining uninterested. Arthur gives him a subtle tap on the shoulder, widening his eyes in reprimand when Lucas looks over and they really need to calm down, it’s just a stupid party. There’s one practically every week. 

“No, no.” Arthur takes over, pushing Lucas aside which means he now has to turn around and see Robert’s triumphant smirk. “He cracked his head on a wall this morning, we’ll definitely be there.” 

“Cool. I’ll see you then.” And with that, Robert walks off— backwards. It doesn’t look half as attractive as when Eliott does it. Lucas barely resists flashing him the middle finger. 

“Lucas!” Arthur turns to him, scandalized. “How could you turn that down?” 

“It’s just a party.”

“It’s not just a party. That was Roden Caron inviting you, himself, just now. Are you crazy?”

“Whatever, you guys can go if you want. I’m staying home.”

“Pretty sure he won’t let us in without you,” Basile pipes up, eyes round and pleading. 

Lucas turns to Yann, who’s been quiet for the entire conversation, only to see his best friend’s head tilted down, tapping aimlessly at his phone. He knows Yann and Emma are having a rough time with their relationship right now and guilt churns in Lucas’ stomach. He hasn’t exactly been acting the role of the best friend either, too preoccupied with the shift in his and Eliott’s relationship for the past year. 

But maybe that dickhead Roden’s given him an opportunity to redeem himself a little. 

“Yann,” Lucas calls out, Yann looking up at them only after he’s been directly addressed. “You up for some distraction on Friday?” 

“I don’t know…” 

“Come on, man.” Basile knocks him encouragingly on the shoulder. “There’ll be unlimited drinks for free! And hot girls!”

“Yeah! And I heard his parties are bomb,” Arthur pitches in, almost vibrating at the prospect of attending. 

Yann meets Lucas’ eyes. “Eliott’s gonna be okay with this?”

“Uh.” Eliott probably wouldn’t want to go to a party hosted by some guy with a vendetta against him but Lucas can try. “I’ll ask if he wants to come.”

“No, no, no.” Basile takes Lucas’ phone away before he could do anything. “We are going to this party as single men.”

“We’re not single, though,” Yann retorts.

Basile pauses. “Okay, not single single but no significant others for the night.”

“Why?” Lucas doesn’t feel all that comfortable going without Eliott, for obvious reasons. 

“When was the last time we all hung out together with just us?” Basile spreads his hands out quite dramatically, looking around to meet eyes with each one of them. Lucas concurs he doesn’t have a good answer to that. “Exactly.”

They all mumble disgruntled agreements, even Arthur who isn’t even in a serious relationship. 

Lucas pockets his phone without asking Eliott to come with him. It’ll probably be fine anyway. 

Except, of course, it’s not. 

Yann’s shitfaced drunk on the couch two hours into arriving and Lucas, having stuck to him like a leech in order to prevent anything too disastrous from happening, is on his way to getting there as well. He listens to Yann’s moaning and groaning about not meaning to lie to Emma all the time but things are just so complicated. 

Lucas sloppily pats him on the back, taking another swig at his beer until he realizes that the bottle is empty. 

He should get more. 

Getting up from the couch is a hassle— his legs feel too weak to support the rest of his body and his head seems to have cotton for brains.

He should stop drinking now.

Digging around his pockets, he walks towards the kitchen in hopes of finding a little peace and quiet— and two water bottles for him and Yann as well. He’s glad his cotton brains are at least half functional. 

His hands finally reach into the correct pocket for his phone and he gleefully presses Eliott’s speed dial, excited to finally talk to his boyfriend after a long day without him. Eliott knows he’s at Roden’s party, having mentioned it offhandedly after Eliott complained about having to go to a classmate’s house, on a Friday night, to finish a group assignment. 

Just as predicted, Eliott’s face soured at the mention of Roden but he shrugs it off, kissing Lucas goodbye with a teasing, “Don’t be too bored without me.” 

And Lucas tried, really, but parties are just way too dull without his boyfriend around. 

“Hey.” Eliott picks up from the other line, sounding sweet and sleepy. 

Lucas realizes he doesn’t know what time it is. “I’m bored, Eliott.” 

There’s a muffled chuckle and then, “I think it’s time for you to leave that lame party.” 

“But the guys are still here?” He speaks slowly, trying not to slur his words. Eliott would get worried if he catches wind of how much Lucas has already drank. 

“With you right now?”

Lucas looks around and spots Arthur and Basile engaged in a giant drinking game that looks a hair’s width away from being too much. 

“No.” 

“Then you can leave whenever you want.” 

“Yeah… yeah,” he answers absently, leaning against the kitchen counter as he stares at the cupboards. Which one would hold the cups? He wants cold water from the fridge, not those stupid water bottles scattered around on the floor. 

"Lucas?” There’s a lot of noise from Eliott’s line but Lucas can’t figure out what he’s doing at this time of the night. Or early morning. Whatever. “Hey, baby, are you okay?” 

“Mhm.” He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. “I think…” Drunk Lucas is too much of a disaster to be hanging around in public so he should probably go. “I’m—”

“Finally caught you.” There’s another voice nearby but Lucas understands that it’s not coming from his phone. He turns around, cursing in his head at the sight of Roden. He’s been doing so well avoiding the guy all night. 

Lucas holds the phone tighter. “I’m just leaving,” he mumbles, trying to push past him to get out of the kitchen. Except Roden holds out an arm to block his path and it’s enough to confuse Lucas’ drunken state into staying put. 

Eliott’s saying something from the other line but Roden picks the phone out of Lucas’ slack hold and ends the call. “You don’t have to.”

“I do.” Lucas attempts to leave again, only to realize that he still needs his phone back. He makes a grab for it but Roden pulls it out of reach. “Give it.” 

“Get one more drink with me and I’ll let you go.” Roden gestures towards the two bottles of beer on the kitchen island. 

Lucas shakes his head, he’s not drunk enough to be too stupid. “No, I wanna leave.”

“Come on, I just wanna talk.” Roden’s arms fall by his sides as he shrugs and Lucas’ eyes follow the movement.

“I don’t wanna talk.” Lucas snatches his phone back, pocketing it real quick. With that done, he tries for another escape but this time Roden’s hands grab him by the wrists, pressing him against the wall and this is getting really fucking frustrating. 

“Fine, no talking. Let’s do something else then.”

Lucas twists around, trying to free himself enough to punch this imbecile in the balls. “Are you deaf or what?” He wants to yell but even that small attempt to raise his volume causes him a bout of dizziness. Shit, this would be the worst time to pass out. “I said I wanna go home. Get off me.”

“Come on, stop pretending it’s not boring, staying with just one person your whole life.” 

He stops struggling for a second only to give Roden an incredulous look. Is this guy serious? He’s really going to go fake deep about soulmates with Lucas over here? 

“None of your business.”

“I’m just trying to do you a favour, see?” Roden leans down, breathing over his neck. Lucas’ pulse spikes with the first strike of fear. “Maybe after this, you’ll even forget all about Demaury.” 

The mention of Eliott’s name, in that mocking tone that Lucas is unfortunately too familiar with, brings out such sheer anger in him that Lucas manages to rip his hands away from Roden’s grip, punch him twice in his dumb, entitled face, and kick him in between the legs for good measure. He’s light headed by the time he’s done and Roden looks more furious than hurt, which doesn’t bode all that well for him, so Lucas makes a run for it. 

As best as he can anyway. His knees are this close to buckling but Lucas holds onto that thread of adrenaline, hoping he’s going the correct way to the front doors.

When he gets out, the wind is comfortingly cold against his skin but he stutters in his steps— he can’t go home like this. His mom would worry and get even more stressed out. Raking shaky hands through his hair, he’s just about to stagger down the porch steps to figure things out on his walk home when Eliott, wide eyed and windswept, comes running into sight. 

“Eliott?” Lucas sure hopes he’s not hallucinating right now or he’d be really worried for himself.

“Come here.” Eliott walks up to him and Lucas barely gets off the top step before Eliott’s arms are around him, embrace so tight it pulls him off the ground. “What the fuck was that, Lucas?”

“Huh?”

“The fucking phone call,” Eliott says carding one hand through Lucas’ messy hair. “I heard his voice and it just ended and—”

“I’m fine.” Lucas tries not to think about it or he might not be fine. “How did you get here?” 

“I ran.”

“Fuck.” Lucas buries his face in Eliott’s neck. “Stop being so sweet, I’m gonna puke.”

“Pretty sure you’re gonna puke anyway.”

“Shut up.” 

Eliott sets him down carefully, but Lucas can’t bring himself to walk another step. He’s run out of adrenaline since Eliott’s arrival and he’s reminded of how truly useless his body becomes when inebriated. 

“Here.” Eliott stoops down in front of him, taking Lucas’ hands to wrap around his neck from behind. “Get on my back.”

“I’m sorry.” Lucas slumps against Eliott’s back, holding on when Eliott straightens back up. “You must be tired.”

“Never.” 

Lucas cuddles closer, pressing his nose into Eliott’s hair. “Thank you.” 

“I told you, Lulu.” Eliott turns his head and steals a little kiss. “I’ll be here to take care of you. Always.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re never going to a party without me again.”

“I know.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill Roden.”

Lucas snorts, “Don’t bother.”

“No, he’s gonna die on Monday.”

“Eliott.”

“You said we were almost there like, two hours ago,” Lucas says, mostly to be difficult. He’s starting to not mind the long walk in the deep, dark woods with Eliott. Except for the fact that, you know, they could die any minute now. But that’s no big deal. 

“It’s been half an hour,” Eliott retorts with a scoff. “And we really are here this time. Careful, watch your steps.” He leads them up a soft mountain of snow and Lucas feels the wooden stairs buried deep under. It gets steadily brighter around them the higher they get, with the trees no longer shielding them from the night sky. 

And wow, okay, maybe Eliott’s onto something over here. 

High up as they are, Lucas sees nothing but an expanse of dark skies speckled with stars that are alive. Is that…?

“Meteor shower.” Eliott leans his chin on Lucas’ shoulder, watching his reaction closely. “It started about half an hour ago. I was worried we’d miss it.” 

Lucas stands there with his mouth open, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“How did you…” Lucas turns, laughing incredulously up at Eliott. “Did you make a deal with the devil? How do you do these things?” His eyes slide back up where the stars continue their mesmerizing dance in the dark. “Fuck.” He feels Eliott’s gaze still on him so Lucas nudges him with an elbow. “Why aren’t you watching it?”

“I’ve got something much better.” 

Lucas rolls his eyes, thankful that the flashlight’s shut off, making it way too dark to catch the warmth on his cheeks. “Stop.” 

Eliott grins. “I’ve been so obsessed with your eyes from the moment I saw them.”

“Obsessed?” Lucas repeats, laughing. “How romantic.”

“Would you turn down the attitude? I’m trying to make a speech here.” Eliott’s bouncing on his feet now— is he getting cold?

“Sorry, go on,” Lucas says, gesturing with a hand for Eliott to continue. 

“I’m starting over.”

“Sure, whatever.”

“Jesus, I’ve always thought you were so fucking rude, you know.”

“You’re really nailing the romance up in here, dude.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Or what?” Lucas’ eyes are still stuck on the sky. 

“Or I’ll marry you,” Eliott whispers and Lucas feels his brain combust.

What?

What?

He hasn’t moved, still facing the stars, but his eyes are unseeing. 

It isn’t like Eliott hasn’t talked about marriage before, but that was years ago, when they were children. And Lucas had doubted how serious he’d been about it. 

Eliott’s graduated from college last year and he’s having the time of his life as an intern in the film industry. He’s got his own apartment where Lucas had moved in ages ago— it had been a chill, unofficial thing, really, Lucas had gone over once upon a time and just didn’t go back home.

Lucas is only nineteen, he’s still got quite a bit to go before figuring out where he wants to be after graduation. 

He doesn’t know if getting married any time soon is a good idea at all. 

“No,” he says, zoning back in, blinking up at the sky. 

“… No?”

“No.” He turns, gazing up at Eliott’s falling expression. Despite the loss of spark in them, the skies above the two of them are no match against the galaxies in Eliott’s blue, blue eyes. “No, I won’t shut up.” 

To hell with good ideas anyway. 

The smile that blooms on Eliott’s face is worth the, probably, very fucking stupid decision Lucas has just made. Faced with the intensity of the joy radiating from his soulmate, Lucas can’t comprehend how he’s ever to decline the question. 

Eliott drops down on one knee.

“Oh no,” Lucas says, shaking his head. “Get up, get up, don’t do this.” 

But of course Eliott doesn’t listen. He soaks up Lucas’ panic and seems to gain confidence from it, the utter asshole. “Lucas Lallemant…”

Lucas takes the hood of his jacket and folds it over his eyes. 

Eliott laughs, “Baby, it doesn’t have to be now, or the year after, or any time soon. I don’t care when it is. But I’ll really appreciate it if you say yes to marrying me at some point before we die.” 

Lucas peeks down at him. “Is that your big speech?”

“No, I forgot my original speech when you said no earlier,” Eliott admits, pulling Lucas’ hands away from his face to make sure that he sees clearly what’s hidden inside Eliott’s palm. 

Lucas watches Eliott’s fingers unfold and he knows there’s got to be some kind of ring in there but what he sees makes him gasp out a resounding, “No!” And he spins around, hands over his head. He can’t believe this. “No! You’re so cheesy, what the fuck?” He doesn’t know what to do with himself, it feels like his limbs are trying to shiver out of his body from the inside out. 

Eliott isn’t even on his knees anymore, he’s just sitting on the snow powdered ground, laughing it up. “You don’t like it?” He barely gets the words out before dissolving into more high pitched laughter. Lucas doesn’t understand why he loves this idiot. 

“How… it was so ugly,” he mumbles, stepping closer to look at the ring again. It’s not ugly anymore, to be honest. The metal is now slimmer, more delicate than crude, its polished surface glimmering every time it catches onto a source of light. The haphazard knot that connects the band together has been trimmed so that it looks more like intertwining branches rather than a badly screwed keychain. 

“Can I?” Eliott stands, hands hovering close to Lucas’. 

Lucas nods, fascinated as it slips perfectly over his finger. 

It’s actually really stupidly beautiful.

“Fuck.”

“Are you crying?”

“Shut up.”

He’s five when mama tells him that Eliott is going to be a big part of his life. 

So on the Monday after everything suddenly looked weird and bright, Lucas seeks Eliott out so he can watch him make more ugly paintings. 

He’s letting Eliott talk him through what’s going on in his newest project when something falls out of Eliott’s sweater pocket. Lucas picks it up, frowning when a sharp end pokes at his finger. 

“What’s this?” He lifts it up to Eliott’s face and the boy goes cross eyed a little.

“Oh!” Carefully, he takes it off Lucas’ hold and places it on the desk. “It’s your ring.” 

Lucas doesn’t get it. “Why would I have a ring?”

“For when I get you to marry me,” Eliott declares, looking at it proudly. “Mama makes things with metals, she said I can have this!” 

“It’s big.” 

“Of course, silly. You have to grow up before you marry me.” 

Lucas stares at the ring some more. The whole thing is crooked and he’s pretty sure the knots will stab someone’s eyes out if they’re not careful. It’s so ugly, he doesn’t like it. But Eliott seems very happy so Lucas keeps those thoughts to himself. “Is it… abstract?” 

Eliott blinks, looking like he doesn’t know what to say. That’s okay, Lucas asks a lot of questions even adults don’t know the answer to. 

“Huh,” Eliott says, putting a finger to his chin like he’s thinking hard about it. 

The teacher interrupts them before Eliott can give him a proper answer, letting Eliott know that his parents are there to pick him up. 

Lucas smiles when Eliott pouts— it’s really cute. It reminds him of when his neighbour’s little baby frowns. Super adorable. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Lulu,” Eliott sighs, getting up to pack up his backpack. “You can have this one too.” He gives Lucas the new ugly painting; it looks like the one Lucas already has but Eliott’s used different colours this time— all shades of blue. 

“Bye bye.” Lucas waves him goodbye.

“Wait!” Eliott runs back to their table and drops a kiss on his forehead. 

Lucas blinks up at him. “Why?” 

“Because I love you but papa says I can’t kiss you again until you’re fifteen!” Eliott prattles out, already jogging back towards the door as he waves his hands about. “Bye, Lulu!” 

Lucas leans against the table, chin resting against his folded arms as he smiles at the new painting Eliott’s made for him. 

He’s beginning to like abstract. 

[6ftgirlfriend]

...

[kissjane]

Trying to finish some shorter WIPs so I have enough mental bandwidth for the longer projects I have going!

Just like the movies, some clean Elu fluff, perfect bedtime read at 1.4k!

(I may have posted this before as a snippet, but I can’t remember...)

It’s been months. Eliott supposes it’s time to give up.

But when Gorgeous Guy comes in at exactly seven, like he has every Thursday since summer, Eliott knows he doesn’t care how long it has been, and how little headway he has made. He just can’t let go.

Hell, he broke up with his girlfriend because he’d had to imagine Gorgeous Guy to get into a certain mood. One time he could explain, two times he could excuse, but after the third time he’d figured it wasn’t doing anybody any favours to continue like that.

He watches Gorgeous Guy’s movements like a hawk. He seems to be going for horror tonight. There’s absolutely no system to the movies he picks. He’s picked rom coms, documentaries, fantasy movies, thrillers, detectives, musicals – everything under the sun. He doesn’t discriminate against foreign movies, dubbed and subtitled both. Sometimes he picks an absolute blockbuster, or an award-winning flick, other times he goes for little-known cult gems or plain trash.

Eliott has tried to talk to him, comment on his choice of the week, ask if he enjoyed last week’s rental, hell, he even resorted to bringing up the weather. So far, all he got in return are nods, headshakes, and one-syllable answers murmured so lowly Eliott doesn’t even understand half of them.

Even Gorgeous Guy’s name has eluded him so far. Oh, he’s asked. He introduced himself, and when no answer came, he outright asked. He got a mumbled reply which he didn’t grasp, not even enough to know if the guy actually answered or politely said it was none of Eliott’s business. After that, he’d tried the long way, by attempting to get the guy to sign up for newsletters, or get a loyalty card, but all his schemes have been foiled.

But Eliott is nothing if not optimistic. As long as Gorgeous Guy keeps coming back week after week, Eliott tells himself – and fully believes – that this will be the week he gets a name. Or a number. Or better yet, a smile.

[ayellowcurtain]

Could you maybe write some Elu fluff?

could you maybe write a fic about season 1 and season 2 Lucas that leads up to him today??

It wasn’t really his thing to celebrate his birthday. Most of the times, it was just another day. He would cut himself some extra slack if he didn’t study on those days or if he smoked a little more or drinking an extra beer, but that was about it. 

Lucas can’t remember the last time he had an actual party for his birthday. So this night feels like one of those that he’ll remember forever. Everyone he loves came, he saw his mom earlier today for a lunch date and he knows this was all Eliott. 

Who would have thought that Eliott is a very good party planner. Lucas can’t stop thinking about it. In his normal spirit, it’s already hard to stop thinking about his boyfriend, but he’s used to it by now. He can live his life, study, spend quality time with his friends and mom and in the back of his head, it’s always this overwhelming sensation that Eliott is the best. That Lucas is actually that lucky to be with someone that he loves madly and that loves him back just as much. 

But today it’s hard to focus on something else. 

There are photos of him everywhere and it should make him feel so self-aware, ashamed of how fucked up he was in the past, but he keeps being happy to see his younger self. Being the worst person ever or not, it brought Lucas to where he is now, with Eliott and surrounded by people that care about him, so maybe he didn’t fuck up so bad that his karma would ruin his whole life. 

“Hi, birhtday boy.” An arm comes from behind, around his neck and Manon kisses his cheek, putting her weight behind his back, cheek to cheek now, watching the party. 

“Hi!” Lucas kisses the back of her hand, thinking he needs a bottle of water if his rough voice is anything to go by. 

“Are you having fun?” 

“Yes. So fucking much. Thank you. I know you helped him. I can almost see you calling my mom for this stupid fucking pictures.” 

“It was a minor help, I gotta admit. Eliott is the one you should thank. I’m sure you’ll thank later, in bed.” She whispers the last few words in his ear and they both laugh. 

“You know me well.” 

“How are things between you two? Good?” 

“Yeah, chill. Everything is good.” 

“Good!” Lucas laughs. If he’s tipsty, Manon is about to be so drunk. She might need to sleep on their couch tonight, but it’s good to see her letting herself be reckless and have a good time around people that’ll always have her back. 

Eliott walks past them to get some beer and their eyes meet like they’re some strangers, flirting at a party and Manon is there, happily watching. 

Manon snorts against his cheek when Eliott is finally gone again and Lucas laughs, they’re so stupid! 

“He’s hot, you know.” 

Lucas sighs and drinks the rest of his beer. He knows that too well. 

“I know. It’s ridiculous.” 

“When I got back, the girls were all about him. I’m pretty sure the whole school thought he was the hottest guy there is. And you got him.” 

Lucas leans against her biceps, watching his best friend and boyfriend talk excitedly about something. 

“It’s not my fault that I’m better than all of you combine.” 

Manon drops down from his neck, putting her drink on the counter, raising her eyebrows. 

“You wish!” 

And she dances back, meeting the girl at his living room. On their tiny island inside the kitchen there’s the old photo he, Yann and Emma took when they were still together. 

Yann had won that giant teddy bear and gave it to Emma and Lucas used it to play his “girlfriend” at that date. Sometimes it was hard to be around them when they were together. Lucas would stare for too long, thinking stupid things, wondering if he would ever had the chance to feel what they were feeling, even if they were fighting. 

When he moved out of his place, he felt like that was the rock bottom. At least it couldn’t get worst than that. It did, but not the way he was expecting. Turns out that fighting with someone you love is really not fun, at all. Even the stupid fights. 

But moving out was definetetly his worst. Most of the bad moments after that, Lucas knew he had Eliott, or a piece of him to remember for the rest of his life. When he saw Eliott and Lucille back together, he thought that maybe that was it. 

The moments in between were the best he was going to get. A love story that only lasted a few weeks. 

“Finally, I find you alone.” Eliott’s voice makes him jump, noticing his boyfriend right there, standing by his side, smiling with the acidental scare. 

“Sorry, mon amour.” Eliott’s hand goes to the back of his heck, giving some support when Eliott kisses his cheek, making Lucas’ head bent to the other side. 

“You were looking for me?” 

“Since the day I was born.” Lucas laughs, but moves closer to Eliott, looking up, asking for a kiss. Eliott smiles wider, looking at Lucas so carefully, his soft eyes scanning every inch of his face like he does sometimes, his thumbs gently following some birthmarks and some scars that Lucas knows he has on his face. 

“Happy birthday, love of my life.” Lucas needs a second to understand he’s supposed to say something, keeps just looking at how beautiful Eliott is and how good his hands feel. 

“Thank you. And thank you for existing and for making this, this party and stuff. You didn’t have to.” 

“We need to celebrate you!” Eliott tells like it’s something obvious and right, bumping their foreheads together. 

“I’m not that worthy of celebration.” Lucas lets it slip, thinking out loud the things he doesn’t really share with others. Eliott frowns, sighing, holding Lucas’ head more carefully. 

“You are. You’re the best person I know. An amazing friend, funny, thoughtful, so brave, so smart. You’re also a very good cook, so gentle, so willing. Fuck, you’re the best, Lucas. The actual best. And I’m lucky to be with you.” 

“Stop...” He whispers and Eliott presses their lips together for a long moment. 

“I love you. There’s nothing better to me than to celebrate you, in every way possible.” 

[sweetbitterpdf]

🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈

send me a 🌈 for 100 words of elu fluff uwu

the best part about life drawing class, in eliott’s opinion, is that it’s acceptable to stare. 

that’s why he had gotten into art in the first place, in fact. more than anything, he loved looking at beautiful things. and— frustrating as doing them justice may be— bodies are his favourite thing to draw.

especially when they look… well, like that.

like the boy stretched out on the platform, his tan skin tinted various colours from the lights shining down on him. this module of the class is focused on the way colours change the appearance of the body, of the face. and eliott tells himself that his desire to see what the model looks like under normal lighting is purely artistic, for the sake of comparison.

not because he’s been looking at him for what must be nearly the whole three hour class, at this point, and certainly not because every time the boy’s eyes meet his— briefly, before they continue their lazy path around the room, watching all of the students work— it sends his limbs abuzz, a full-bodied shiver down his spine.

he’s having trouble getting the right blend of colour for the way that the pale yellow light meets the boy’s hip, making it look like his entire lower body has been set in gold, from the dip of his waist, across his stomach, down along his hips and all the way down to his—

“alright everyone,” he nearly groans aloud as his prof comes to the center of the room. “that’s our time for today! finish the portion you’re working on, and then pack up.” he turns back to the model. “lucas will stick around for another fifteen minutes or so, and then he’ll be back the same time next week.” all of a sudden it’s as if the world around him falls away. lucas, his brain chants, lucas lucas lucas. it’s fitting, he thinks— he looks like a lucas. the fluff of his hair— a task that eliott couldn’t dream of tackling until he has the body done— the way his nose juts out just so, the gentle arch of his upper lip…

“— eliott, you there?” he blinks, hard, shaking his head a bit to ground himself back in reality, before looking at his professor, stood beside him. “you done for today?”

“oh— yes, of course, sorry. just lost in thought.”

“all good. trust me, you’re not the only one who feels the effects of this being an evening class.” his prof chuckles, before continuing onward to his other classmates, seeing them off for the day. a few minutes later he has all of his supplies safely in his bag. as he turns to leave, he has half a mind to wish lucas a good night, to find some way to talk to him.

“have a good night, lucas,” is what he decides on. when lucas looks over at him, that same shiver from before rushes over him, and he has to put in an effort to keep his composure. the smile he receives in return is sweet, and he internally delights in the way lucas’ eyes crinkle at the edges when he does.

“you too, ah…” it takes him embarrassingly long to realize that lucas is implicitly asking for his name.

“oh! eliott, i’m eliott.”

“well then, you too, eliott.” he’s ready to pass out, at the sound of lucas saying his name. “see you next week?”

“yeah— yes, you will! of course.”

“great.” another smile that makes him weak in the knees. eliott leaves with a quick wave before he can do anything he’ll regret.

[tawmlinsun]

🌈 !!!!!

send me a 🌈 for 100 words of elu fluff!!

Lucas pulls his robes tighter around him as he starts the long walk up from the Slytherin common room. The cloak is a little too big on him, a secondhand find his mama managed to track down in Diagon Alley, and it’s a bit roomy up top, too much space for his 11-year-old shoulders to fill. She’d tried to tailor it to Lucas more, but there’s only so much a needle and thread could do without being aided by magic.

He glances down at his schedule to check his classes again and make sure Charms is still in that first slot. He doesn’t think anyone would’ve jinxed the parchment overnight, but Imane had heard from her brother who had heard from some Hufflepuff who had heard from another friend who had overheard some third-years whispering about playing a prank on the first-years today.

And Lucas doesn’t need a prank right now, really. He’s got enough going on this morning already. He’d slept in late and missed breakfast in the Great Hall, and when he woke up, Imane had already left and she had promised him that they could walk to class together. She said her brother, Idriss, had made her a map with all of the classrooms so that she wouldn’t get lost on the first day, and Lucas was kind of counting on the map to guide them for at least the first week. Lucas needs that map!

He makes he way out of the dungeons to find the hallways just a little too empty. He glances down to check his watch: he’s nearly late!

Lucas starts running, robe fluttering out behind him and bag bouncing against his back as he dashes around corners and pushes past older students walking leisurely, and the confidence in their movements is envy-inducing.

By some miracle, Lucas makes it to the Grand Staircase and dashes up the first flight he sees, trusting that it’ll get him where he needs to go. Imane said Charms was on the third floor, right?

He takes the steps two at a time, nearly tripping over his robe as he goes. He’s on his final staircase, the door to the third floor in sight, when all of a sudden he gets thrown to the side, sending him stumbling into the handrail. Ouch. Falling against the stone, Lucas looks up and sees the world turning on its axis.

“Are you okay?” someone asks, and Lucas stares with panic-stricken eyes at the boy who has somehow appeared in front of him. He’s got sandy hair and robes accented with blue, and Lucas may be a little slouched over but he can tell this boy is tall.

“What’s happening?” he asks, clutching the stone behind him as the staircase jerks.

The boy furrows his brow. “The stairs are moving, of course.”

The stairs move? The prefect from last night hadn’t mentioned that! Bloody hell, how’s he supposed to get to class now?

“Merlin’s beard,” Lucas whispers, slumping against the stairs as they continue on their new path.

The boy chuckles and holds out a hand to Lucas, which he promptly takes and lets himself be pulled up to his feet. (The boy is even taller than Lucas had thought he was. Definitely older, maybe a third-year? And hopefully not one of the ones playing pranks, because now he’s seeing Lucas’ ill-fitting robes and messy hair and Lucas has never felt more like a target.)

“Where are you headed?” the boy asks, keeping a hand on Lucas’ shoulder to steady him as the staircase slams into place.

“Ch-Charms.”

“Room 2E?” Lucas nods. “Oh, this worked in your favor, then. You were headed to the old Forbidden Wing, actually. 2E will be the second door on your left,” he notes, nodding to the door at the end of the staircase. “You’ll be in class in no time.”

“Really?” The boy nods, and a weight lifts itself off his shoulders. He won’t be late after all!

“Thank you,” he mutters, shooting the boy a grateful smile before hefting his backpack over one shoulder and dashing up the stairs.

“Hey, wait!” Lucas turns to find the boy on the same stair he was before, staring at him expectantly. “What’s your name?”

“Lucas.” The boy’s eyes sparkle when Lucas says it, picking up on the soft vowel, the slight accent underneath.

“Are you French?” he asks, and it builds a smile along his lips that sends heat across Lucas’ cheeks.

“Yeah,” he answers. “But my family lives in London.”

“Me, too!” The boy’s excitement shines, and he bounces up on his toes with the force of it. A rush of...something...sends Lucas’ heart beating fast. “Or, er, moi aussi, I guess.”

Lucas beams. Merlin, it feels good to hear French again. “And you are?” he asks, going down a step to get just a little closer again.

“Eliott. I’m a second-year.”

So he is older. “Oh, I’m a —”

“First year,” Eliott finishes with a laugh. “I figured.”

Lucas bites his lip, embarrassed, and nods over to the third floor corridor behind him. “Well, I’d better get to class.”

“O-Oh, uh, yeah, me, too.”

There’s a moment where they just stare at each other, identical smiles on their faces, and another weird thrill of that something clasps his heart.

“À bientôt, Lucas,” Eliott says, waving once as he turns to find his new staircase.

“À bientôt,” Lucas whispers after him.

Lucas thinks he’s really going to like Hogwarts.

[juuuuunaaaaaooooo]

Author Meme

Tagged by @bourbon-ontherocks <333333333333333333333333

Tagging  @sothischickshe ; @tumblingdownthehills ; @mego42 ; @bethrio , @briallenko

ao3 name: Kaaaaarooooo

fandoms: Good Girls (Brio) , Skam France (Elu) , Shadowhunters (Saphael)

number of fics: 30 but I post in two language so my ao3 number is 60 (+ the fanart post)

fic I spent the most time on : Ohhhhhhhhhhh, It was a prompt that my cute friend ask me to do, and let me tell you something, it the only time i’m gonna write a prompt for someone else, i’m bad at it. I make 2 years for finish it so^^. It was call “One Choice Can Change Everything” and it was a saphael fic.

fic I spent the least amount of time on:  Hm....Good answer I don’t really remember but i think it’s still saphael (yeah normal, it’s the fandom for who i wrote the most) : it was for a week so I don’t have a lot of time for write the fic so I’m gonna say 6 fics all saphael for saphaelweek2017.

most hits: (sorry I don’t know how make link with just the name) so : Contemplation and Rewards (Saphael) (more than 5000 hits, and i thank you all people who click)!!!

most kudos: a Brio fic yeahhhhhhh (This fandom is the most generous i swear) :  Frame + Lenses = Glasses   (Brio)

most comments: Kiss cam (Brio)

most bookmarks: Contemplation and Rewards (Saphael)

highest total word count:  One Choice Can Change Everything (34045)

favourite fic I wrote: Well I love all the fic I wrote because, if not i didn’t wrote them^^. But if I really have to choose i’m very proud of “Contemplation and Rewards” It was one of and maybe my first fic i write so I’m very proud of it.

fic I want to rewrite/expand on: No one...really.

share a bit of a wip or story idea you’re working on: Ok so i’m gonna start a new Brio fic. It’s gonna happen between 2x05 and 2x06... Rio is sick but he doesn’t gonna admit he is... Rio gonna be a softie and Sick Rio = Cuddle Rio^^. Mick and Annie gonna be the bff douchbag for Rio, Ruby just gonna be shock all the time and Beth gonna be the one who gonna take care of him (of course)!!! So it’s gonna be a 100% fluff and cute story!

Thanks!!!!!!!!

[surrealsunday]

OMG! a S&F snippet! Jaime you truly made my day🌸 i was thinking how much time (weeks/months) difference is bw the fic and this snippet!? ❤️

Ohhhh yay!!! I’m so glad you enjoyed that random snippet of fluff! And not long has passed since the story. Maybe a month or so. Like I said... Spark to Flame Elu would move at lightening speed. I mean their first date ended up being like 3 days straight spent together. And with Eliott no longer having an apartment they would have just decided to move in together... just ‘for now... I mean we spend all our time together anyways...’ and that ‘for now’ would become ‘forever’. So yeah, that snippet was pretty near after the story ☺️❤️.

[ao3feed-elu]

Summer Bucketlist

by Mdrskam

Eliott has a list of dates he wants to take Lucas on before they start their new school year, but with their summer quickly coming to a close, he has two weeks to get it all done.

Multi-part Fic, unfinished, still working on it.

Words: 2408, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: SKAM France, elu - Fandom

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Eliott Demaury, Lucas Lallemant

Relationships: elu - Relationship, Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant, racoon / hedgehog, eliott / lucas

Additional Tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Toothache, Fluff, Sweet, Domestic

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/24293242

[all-things-skam]

elliot and lucas first date.

Anon: Can you write something where Elliot and Lucas are sleepy in bed? Sorry, not very specific, but just can you do really cute fluff between them? Thank you I love your writing so much 🥰🥰🥰

Anon: Eliott takes Lucas on his first actual date

-

Title: Blankets and bubbles

Ship: Skam France | Lucas Lallemant and Eliot Demaury (Elu)

With everything going on in their lives, Eliott and Lucas were about to celebrate their two months of union and still hadn’t gone on their first date. Life had been so hectic the past two months that going on a date was the last thing on their minds. They had gone out for dinner a couple times and spent afternoons in parks but, it was never a date date.

And, Lucas would rather not consider their night on the boat as their first date. While some parts of the night were beautiful, it made him want to cry.

On Friday, Eliott waited for Lucas after his last class. He pulled him in and kissed him hello the second he was out of Biology, earning an eye-roll from Imane. “You’ve been kissing all lunch hour and texting under the table all of last period, don’t act like you haven’t seen each other all day.”

“We did not-”

“Unless there’s someone else you send a ribbon of heart emojis to, there’s no point lying.”

Lucas hid his face in Eliott’s chest, nose smushed in the fabric of his hoodie. Eliott chuckled and bid Imane a good weekend.

“You said you had a surprise for me?” Lucas said, tilting his chin up.

The older boy had hinted at a surprise all week and it was all Lucas could think about come Friday. Although he wasn’t a fan of surprises, Lucas was excited to see what Eliott had in mind.

Eliott pinched his chin as if he was in deep thoughts. “Do I?”

Lucas cocked his head, giving his boyfriend a look.

“Come with me.” Eliott smiled and laced his fingers with Lucas’s, pulling him down the hall.

They took the bus to Lucas’s flat and, once they reached the top of the stairs, Eliott covered Lucas’s eyes with his hands which startled the boy a little. “What are you doing?”

“It’s a surprise,” the older boy explained, sounding a little giddy.

“A surprise in my own house? Please tell me you didn’t get a dog.”

Sometimes Eliott would do unexpected things and it was hard for Lucas to deal with them, especially since he was only starting to get used to the way Eliott was during his episodes. What if this surprise was a repeat of the boat? What if-

“Eliott,” Lucas warned, suddenly concerned and fearful Eliott was having an episode.

“I did not.”

Lucas sighed. Thank fuck.

Eliott asked Lucas to blindly open the door, his own hands busy making sure Lucas’s eyes were covered. They stepped inside and Eliott kicked the door shut behind them.

“Can I open my eyes now?”

“Yes,” he replied, removing his hands, revealing a crooked hut made of mismatched blankets in the middle of the living room: a blanket fort.

Lucas stepped forward, taking a closer look at the fort, smiling when he saw all the pillows and blankets on the floor, his laptop, snacks and…was that champagne? A rope of fairy lights were hung and lit inside the fort, creating a dim light. To some, this was a cheap and crappy date but, to Lucas, it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for him.

“When did you do this?” Lucas asked, still amazed by the set up.

“I skipped afternoon class and came here while you were in class. Manon was here and help me set everything up.”

Of course Manon had helped, Lucas wasn’t surprised. They had unexpectedly bonded over their relationship struggles and were now practically siblings from another bloodline.

“Talking about Manon, where’s everyone?” Lucas asked, not seeing any of his flatmates around the appartement.

“I kicked them out. Obvi,” he explained. “I bribed Mika and Lisa with fifty euros and Manon kindly offered to sleep at Emma’s.”

“Fifty each? That’s a lot of money. You didn’t have to do that, baby…”

Behind him, Eliott shrugged and took off his jacket and shoes, about to crawl inside the fort. “What are you waiting for? Come on in.” He tugged Lucas inside, almost causing him to trip over, giggling.

“Wait! I still have my shoes on.”

Quickly, Lucas toed off his sneakers, leaving them outside the fort, scattered on the hardwood, and joined Eliott on the mass of pillows.

“Do you like it?”

Lucas nodded. “I was never allowed to make forts when I was a kid,” he pointed out. With his parents’s troubles at home, he had missed out on a lot of typical childhood experiences because of his parents and making blanket forts was one of them. “This amazing, really. I love it. I love you.” He grinned and Eliott leaned, capturing Lucas’s lips with his.

Eliott pulled Lucas on top of him without breaking the kiss, tongues slipping in as hands slid underneath shirts and hoodies, slowly chucking layers off because who watches movies with their jeans on? This is so uncomfortable - and pretty inconvenient to cuddle.

And, Lucas loved the feeling of a soft blanket over his bare legs.

As Lucas tossed their discarded clothing aside, Eliott reached for the bottle of champagne, popping it open with a loud ‘pop’.

“Is this real champagne?” Lucas asked, glancing at the fancy looking bottle with heart eyes. He never had real champagne before but this bottle looked too nice to be a cheap brand.

“Evidently,” the older boy replied, taking a swig straight from the bottle. “Only the best for you.” He passed it to Lucas who mimicked him before pouring them some into fancy flutes.

Eliott put on the first movie and they cuddled under the blankets as they sipped their champagne. Here and there, one of them would tilt their head for a kiss and the request was always executed.

They were half way done with the champagne bottle when Lucas’s stomach made a loud noise, echoing through the fort. Lucas looked at Eliott with a pout. He didn’t wanna say anything in case Eliott didn’t have anything prepared, he didn’t want him experimenting with food again. He chuckled when his stomach made another noise.

“Anything on the menu for tonight?”

“Take out is on the way to spare your weak stomach from my grand cooking skills.”

Lucas swatted him. “My stomach isn’t weak, it’s your cooking that’s awful! Who told you it was okay to put cinnamon in an omelette? And, you put so much in too! I almost died.”

Eliott laughed, still amused as he replayed the moment in his head, from the look on Lucas’s face when he took the first bite to him spitting everything in the sink and drinking water straight from the tap to wash the taste down.

He giving him a kiss. “I was just trying to impress you okay! It was my first night staying over and I wanted to leave a good impression…which did not work at all.”

When the food arrived, Eliott didn’t bother putting on pants and opened the door in his underwear which made Lucas’s jaw drop. The fucking tease. They fed each other bites as they finished the movie, giggling and stealing kisses until they were no longer interested in the movie and had moved to other activities.

A smiled on his lips, Lucas curled up to Eliott’s side. This was better than any sort of fancy date. He smiled up at Eliott, still in awe of how incredibly lucky he was to have him. “Thank you for tonight. No one has ever done anything like this for me. You’re the best.” Lucas pressed a kiss to Eliott’s bare chest, right over his tattoo.

Eliott kissed his forehead. ''I’m glad it was special, I wanted it to be just us...to fix what happened last time. I’m so happy that you liked it.''

[choupichoups]

Blue [1/2]

Prompt: soulmate au

Eliott’s world has always been black and white. 

He’s not even being dramatic— he’s already seven years old, he’s too old to be dramatic. 

“That’s not the green marker!” He hears the teacher hiss out, exchanging quick whispers with the poor assistant who’d come running inside the room only minutes earlier. Looking up at the commotion, Eliott stares at the assistant’s bewildered expression and immediately determines that the girl is one of the lucky ones with the syndrome. 

The fancy adults call it the Soul Syndrome. Eliott likes to call it the Annoying Syndrome. 

“Can I borrow your red?” One of the few students still remaining in school taps him on the shoulder and Eliott shrugs, pushing his bucket of paint tubes forward. He can’t tell which one’s red and he’s too lazy to read the labels. 

You see, about forty percent of the world’s population are born with the Syndrome— the condition has them seeing in complete black and white until their one true love comes along, pokes them in the face, and suddenly the world bursts into colour. So basically Eliott has to put in the extra effort to make contact with everyone he meets just in case one of them happens to be his soulmate.

Eliott just wants to paint pretty pictures. It’s honestly very inconvenient. 

And what if his soulmate doesn’t show up until he’s like, ninety years old? How is he supposed to differentiate between a broccoli and a cauliflower meanwhile, huh? It makes eating his mama’s disgusting vegetables all the more stressful than it already is. 

He stands from his seat, looking out the window to check if his parents have already arrived, having to squint at the plate numbers on the parked cars because he obviously doesn’t know what colour their car is. He has to repeatedly memorize new plate numbers, especially when his dad is the weirdo with a strange obsession with exchanging cars every so often. Again, very stressful. 

The after school program only runs until a certain time, because teachers apparently don’t live in their classrooms (they eat and live lives outside of torturing students with big numbers and words with too many letters) and Eliott always ends up being one of the last students left in school. His parents work for the same company very far away from where they live and Eliott understands that they try their best to come early but he gets really bored of staying in one place all the time. 

No one can blame him for sneaking out of the classroom while the supervising teacher freaks out over her markers. 

He takes his bucket of paint tubes and the half finished artwork with him so he can finish up without the distracting screeches from the adults. He’s peacefully walking along the quiet hallway when one of the classroom doors slams open and a small child rams right into Eliott, careless like a spooked puppy. 

The impact has him losing grip of everything in his hold and Eliott falls on his bum on top of that. Honestly, can he just live one day without stress? The tubes are probably scattered all over the hallway and he can hear his bucket still clanging obnoxiously against the floor as it rolls and rolls and rolls. 

Eliott huffs, opens his eyes-- and almost screams immediately after.

The wide eyed boy huddled in front of him is not in black and white. 

In fact, nothing is in black and white. 

Eliott doesn’t know exactly what he’s seeing, but he’s certain that this is what colour looks like. 

The other boy’s eyes are swimming with tears but Eliott decides that no other colour can be as pretty as it is. 

“That’s ugly,” the other boy says, sniffing into his sleeves, pretty eyes trained on Eliott’s unfinished painting. 

Eliott looks down at it and, well, yes it’s a little ugly now but hey, it was really nice in black and white. He frowns, defensive over his ugly painting. “It’s called abstract.” He enunciates carefully, saying it exactly how his papa describes the other ugly paintings in their house. It’s the biggest word he knows so he’s hoping it might impress his soulmate. 

His soulmate doesn’t look impressed. 

“I don’t care, I don’t know what that means.” 

Eliott pouts. Great, even his soulmate is stressful. The other boy looks around in wonder, eyes eventually catching and lingering on Eliott’s shoelaces. His mama’s the one who fixes his shoelaces for him, Eliott only now sees how very bright the colours on them are. 

“What colour are those?” The little boy points at his shoes.

“I don’t know,” Eliott answers truthfully. “I just saw them now too.” 

“Oh.”

The big double doors of the front entrance slides open and Eliott immediately recognizes his mama as one of the two adults approaching. The other lady has very long hair and eyes almost as pretty as his soulmate’s. 

Eliott looks at the boy and asks frantically, “What’s your name?”

The boy blinks back at him. “Lucas.” 

Eliott’s lips spread into a big, toothy smile, standing up and dusting off his hands to make sure they’re clean enough before taking Lucas’ hand to pull him off the floor as well. Now that they’re standing upright, Eliott notices how teeny tiny his soulmate actually is. He giggles in delight. 

“Eliott!” His mama calls out, and Eliott gapes at the very bright colour tinting the bottom part of his mama’s hair. “What are you doing outside the classroom?” 

“But mama—”

“Lucas, what’s wrong baby?” The other lady asks, kneeling down to coo at her son. Eliott looks over to see the tears back in Lucas’ eyes. 

It’s official— seeing his soulmate cry is the worst thing in the world. Even worse than brussel sprouts. 

“I was napping and then I woke up alone in the classroom!” Lucas blubbers out, sniffing as tears pour down his face. “I thought you forgot about me,” he finishes off, looking miserable. 

Lucas’ mom reaches out but Eliott is closer so he takes it upon himself to wrap the smaller boy into his arms, copying the way his parents hug him every time he feels sad. It’s always the best feeling in the world so he wants to share it with his Lucas. 

“Don’t cry, Lulu, even if they forget you, I won’t!” 

“I don’t even know you,” Lucas muffles into his shoulder and goodness gracious it’s just Eliott’s luck to have a soulmate so rude. No manners, this one. 

“I’m Eliott!” He pulls away to place a big kiss on Lucas’ forehead. “I’ll be here from now on, so don’t ever cry again, okay?”

Lucas just looks at him with his big, shiny eyes and slowly shuffles away, hiding behind his mother’s skirt. Eliott pouts. 

His mama is laughing at him. Both of their mamas are laughing actually. 

“Did you make a friend, Lucas?” Lucas’ mom asks, running a hand through her son’s hair. 

“I’m not just his friend, he’s gonna marry me,” Eliott says as he walks around collecting all the paint back inside his bucket. He hears a strange sound behind him and sees the two women bent over in laughter. Adults are so weird. His eyes move down to Lucas but he can only see little hands gripping tightly onto the long haired lady’s skirt. 

“Come on, Eliott, let’s go home.” His mama holds out a hand for him but Eliott frowns— he knows that voice. She doesn’t believe what he’s saying. Eliott will show them. 

Peeking around the other lady’s skirt, Eliott mumbles a polite, “Excuse me,” as he goes to search for Lucas’ pretty eyes again. “I’ll give this to you,” he says, all firm and serious like his papa pretends to be during work parties. 

Lucas looks down at the painting. “No, thank you.”

“What, why?”

“It’s still ugly.”

“I said it’s abstract.” Eliott stomps his foot. He hears a snort from above them but his eyes are glued on Lucas. He frowns, feeling himself tear up out of frustration— how does he convince Lucas to accept his token of love?

The painting gets taken from him so quickly that Eliott thinks he’s accidentally dropped it, but when he looks up, Lucas’s hugging it in his arms, eyebrows all scrunched up in concern. 

“Don’t cry,” Lucas says. “It’s not that ugly, I guess.”

Aha. Eliott knew it. He’s going to be a world-renowned painter one day. 

“Okay, Eliott, we really have to go, your dad’s waiting.” His mama takes the bucket of paint with one hand and drags Eliott away with the other.

“Wait!”

“You’ll see Lucas again on Monday.”

“Wait, I have to do something!” Eliott wiggles out of her hold and runs back to Lucas, who’s studying Eliott’s painting with his mama. 

“Lucas!” 

The little boy looks up, confused that Eliott’s back again. Eliott runs straight at him, knowing that his mama really wants to go home now so he’s got to hurry.

He stops in front of his soulmate, grinning big and bright, before leaning in to smack a quick kiss on his lips, just like he’s seen in those Disney movies. 

Lucas promptly bursts out crying. 

Eliott plays with his paintbrushes on the way home. They’re all dried now so it doesn’t stain when he runs his fingers over the bristles. 

Noticing that one of them looks almost the same (not as bright, not as sparkly) as Lucas’ eyes, he bounces up in his seat to ask, “Mama, what colour is this?” He shoves the paintbrush in between the two front seats, wiggling the tinted brush around. 

His papa takes a deep breath and his mama smiles. They do their weird eye contact juju where they don’t speak but somehow smile and nod at each other anyway. Adults are weird. 

“That’s blue.”

“You like that colour, Eliott?” His papa asks, looking like he’s about to cry for some reason. Eliott hopes he’s not sad cause then Eliott will be sad and it just won’t be a fun Friday night for anyone.

“Yes!” He answers, giddy as he thinks about his cute soulmate. “It’s my favourite.”

“Do we have a name?” Papa whispers towards Mama. 

“Lucas,” Mama responds and Eliott perks up at the mention of the name.

“I’m gonna marry him!” He declares to no one in particular, running his eyes over his paintbrush. Blue blue blue. 

“When are you planning to do that?” Papa chuckles.

“On Monday.” 

The chuckles turn to choking. Papa must have breathed wrong, it happens to Eliott sometimes too. “How ‘bout we slow down a bit, huh, little man?”

“But I already kissed him, we can marry now.”

“What?” 

“Long story,” Mama says, rolling her eyes as she smiles. “Maybe wait a little before marrying him, hm baby?”

“Why?” 

“Because he’s too young.”

“Why?” 

“He’s not a big boy yet, not like you.” 

“Oh, ok. I’ll just keep kissing him then!”

Papa makes a weird, squeaky noise. “Maybe wait for that too.” 

“Why?”

“Remember, Eliott, too young.” 

“When should I kiss him?”

There’s a short silence, with Eliott watching his parents make tight lips and wide eyes at each other, shaking their heads and nodding at odd intervals. He’d be concerned if this didn’t happen on a regular basis.  

“Wait until he’s... fifteen.” Papa flounders. Mama rolls her eyes, knocking her head back into the seat while Papa shrugs helplessly. 

Eliott frowns, that’s so long. But for Lucas, he’ll wait. He has manners and such.

Then maybe Lucas won’t cry next time since he’ll be a big boy like Eliott. 

[saltforthesea]

The Baking Incident

Summary: Lucas wakes up alone only to find Eliott standing in the kitchen, trying to bake a cake for their neighbors birthday. What happens next might be a complete mess but at least he tried.

Pairing: Lucas Lallemant x Eliott Demaury

Word Count: 1,9k

A/N: This is my birthday present for @jebentnietalleen <3 Happy Birthday Tara! Thank you for everything you’ve done for me in the past few weeks. I hope you had an incredible day! I wanted to write some sweet Elu fluff and I hope y’all like it <3 :) 

Lucas woke up alone. He was used to that by now, used to the fact that on some days Eliott would get up extremely early while on others he wouldn’t move until it was very late in the afternoon. But getting up early was usually a good sign or at least it had been for the past few days and Lucas tried to ignore the stinging feeling in his chest, that always made an appearance when he woke up alone. He missed the warmth of his boyfriend next to him. He missed lazily kissing Eliott's neck until the older boy woke up. He missed their entangled legs under the sheets. He missed everything about Eliott.

With a groan, Lucas pushed his legs out of the bed. He finally had his room back and it was the best feeling in the entire world to be able to sleep in a proper bed again. Of course, he still missed Manon a lot. They had become such good friends in such a short amount of time, and he appreciated everything she had done for him. Including giving him her old bedroom not once but twice.

The floor was cold under his bare feet and he shuffled around, trying to find his pair of boxers Eliott had thrown out of bed the last night. Luckily it wasn’t too far away and with two quick steps, Lucas had reached it and quickly put it back on. He was close to the door now and could hear someone rummaging around in the kitchen, so he quickly put on some socks (the floor was really, really cold) and left his room and stepped into the hallway, where he was immediately greeted with the smell of something burnt.

Quickly Lucas made his way into the kitchen where to his surprise, Eliott (also only dressed in his boxers and a way too tiny robe that must have been one of Lucas’) was standing in front of the counter. He was holding an egg in his left hand and was currently looking at it like he’d never seen one in his life before.

“Don’t tell me you are trying to make another PONI”, Lucas said instead of greeting his boyfriend but immediately made his way over to where Eliott was standing to plant a soft kiss against his back. He had missed him, and he needed to express that. It was a strong need like the need to breathe. Like the need to fill your lungs with fresh air after you’ve been running for too long. Eliott chuckled when he felt the pressure of Lucas’ lips against his back and turned around to reply to his boyfriends kiss with a kiss on Lucas’ forehead

“No, not a PONI. I’m baking”, Eliott explained and Lucas, who had by now finally taken in the complete mess that was his kitchen, snorted at that. Eliott pouted at him which looked so adorable that Lucas couldn’t help himself and pressed a quick kiss to his boyfriends' pouty lips.

“Sorry, babe. But this really looks like a nuclear bomb was let loose in the kitchen. I bet you’re doing great though. What are you baking anyway?” Lucas took the egg from Eliott's hand and started throwing it back and forth from one hand to the other like he was trying to practice the first easy steps of juggling.

“A birthday cake for the neighbor. I don’t know her name though”, Eliott replied and took the egg from Lucas' hands. “Please don’t play with the ingredients of my cake.”

“Fine”, Lucas stuck out his tongue at his boyfriend. “Let me help you at least. I’ll quickly go and wash my hands in the bathroom and then I’ll join you.” Lucas pressed yet another kiss on Eliotts lips (he truly couldn’t leave the room without properly saying goodbye to Eliott and/or make sure that his boyfriend remembered he loved him) before making his way to the bathroom. The shared apartment was surprisingly quiet but then Lucas remembered that it was Friday morning and the others were either working (what was Mika even doing?) or at school. He and Eliott had decided to skip school together because Eliott was going somewhere with his parents on the weekend and therefore couldn’t spend some alone time with Lucas. So they simply turned the Friday into their weekend.

Manon had given him a very strict glance when he had mentioned his plans to skip school the other day when they were having lunch together. ‘Worried but disappointed Mom’ had been written all over Manons face while the rest of the girls and even Yann had loved the idea.

Lucas switched on the light above the bathroom mirror and the first thing that greeted him was the hickey on his neck. Ah yes, so that had been the thing Eliott had been aiming for when he had told Lucas that he was trying something new while sucking on his boyfriend's neck. Lucas groaned and started splashing water in his face before he turned to the toilet and let out a high pitched “PUTAIN!”

In a matter of seconds, Eliott was by his side. Worry was written all over his face. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“What the hell is that thing in our toilet”, Lucas managed to get out while pointing at a black and very burned looking something that was indeed lying in the toilet.

“Oh that”, Eliott shrugged. “That was my first attempt at the birthday cake. Manon gave me the recipe and I totally messed up.”

“And you threw it in the toilet?” Lucas raised one of his eyebrows and gave his boyfriend his best ‘are you shitting me right now’ expression. It was an expression he had truly mastered in the past few months.  At least that’s what he’s been told.

“Well yes. I didn’t want Manon to see it and she probably would have if I had thrown it into the trash. So, therefore, I threw it into the toilet. I forgot to flush it though. Sorry, Babe.”  

Lucas didn’t bother reminding Eliott that Manon wasn’t living with them anymore and probably wouldn’t notice that Eliott had thrown away his first attempt at the cake in the trash. But then again, Mika was still documenting every single of Lucas and Eliott's steps to their former flatmate. One half of Lucas thought he did that because Mika was deeply missing Manon and wanted to have an excuse to tell her everything that was going on in their shared apartment, the other half believed he was just trying to annoy the shit out of Lucas. Maybe it was a bit of both.

“So you are baking a birthday cake for someone whose name you don’t even know?” Lucas asked when he joined Eliott back in the kitchen. His boyfriend had moved on from the eggs to the flour now, carefully measuring the right amount he needed for the cake. Lucas spotted the recipe Eliott had taped to one of the cabinet doors. It was three pages long and extremely detailed and Lucas immediately started asking himself if Manon had considered that Eliott was quite the beginner when it came to baking. Lucas could still vividly remember the last few times he had almost died after Eliott had tried to cook for him.  

“Yes. But you are not allowed to judge me because technically, it’s your neighbor.”

“Wait, what?” Now Lucas was confused. Eliott was baking a birthday cake for someone he a) didn’t know the name of and b) didn’t even was neighbors with? “So you are literally baking this for a complete stranger? How did you even know it’s her birthday?”

“Because I saw her decorating the door to her apartment with balloons and a birthday garland with a giant 30 attached to it when I got here yesterday. And she smiled at me and said to me that she is surprised I haven’t moved in by now, because she always sees me in the hallway. She was nice and I like baking, so I convinced Manon to send me this”, he pointed at the recipe and almost knocked over the package of flour with his arm. “Also, I got Lisa to do some research on your neighbor for me. To make sure it really is her birthday today.”

Lucas couldn’t help but smile at how smug Eliott looked. He truly went all out just so he could make a stranger happy. Lucas really didn’t deserve him. The world didn’t deserve him.

“And what did she find out?”

“Basically, everything except her name”, Eliott laughed, a sound Lucas could never stop loving. Eliott's laugh was like a drug to him. He couldn’t get enough of it and the beaming energy Eliott was giving off whenever he started laughing. “We now know that it’s, in fact, her thirtieth birthday today and we also know that she only moved in a few weeks ago. She is living here with her boyfriend and oh – she is Dutch!”  

“How could you possibly find out all of these things and don’t stumble upon a name?” Lucas was seriously confused when he was suddenly hit by a big white cloud of flour which left him covered in white from head to toe. Did – did Eliott just throw flour at him?

Lucas must have made the most hilarious dumbfound face in the history of expressions because Eliott, his hands were still covered in the rests of the flour he had thrown right into Lucas’ face, was having a hard time keeping his giggles under control.

“Stop asking that many questions and help me already”, he demanded but Lucas had other plans. Plans that Eliott had brought upon himself when he had attacked Lucas with the flour. Immediately Lucas grabbed the thing that was standing closest to him (which happened to be a package of cocoa) and started emptying it by shaking it in Elliott's direction. The older boy started laughing before responding to the cocoa attack by throwing even more flour into Lucas’ direction. Soon they were both covered in half of the ingredients that had been supposed to be part of the cake.

“You are such an idiot”, Lucas panted but grinned widely at his boyfriend. “But you are my idiot.”

Eliott started beaming at this again and closed the space between the two of them to plant a soft kiss against Lucas’ lips. “So what do we do now?”

“I think the cake is ruined now anyway so what if we grab a shower together and then go and buy my nameless neighbor a cake at the bakery.” Lucas kissed him back before resting his head against the crook of Eliott's neck. That was definitely his favorite spot in the entire world.

“A wise decision”, Eliott chuckled. “Eliott 6398 and Lucas 2907 probably would’ve come up with that plan right away. They would be disappointed in us for making this big mess in the kitchen.”

“That might be true but Eliott 6398 and Lucas 2907 aren’t going to take a shower together. Who is the real winner here, huh?” Lucas bit down on his lip and Eliott started laughing. God. Lucas really did love hearing Eliott laugh. “Are you following me now or what?”

“I’d follow you everywhere.”

And that was really all Lucas needed to hear.

[tangyyyy]

Bon, parce que je te connais et que tu vas me faire un truc ultra angst tu vas te faire pardonner avec du pure fluff avec cet autre prompt^^ , Fluff numéro 7 “wait, no, don’t take kissing away from me.”

Here it is !!!! :D

My second dads!elu one shot ! Many many thanks @juuuunaaaaoooo, you made me write again !

Guys, you can request any prompts anytime in my box, really… ;)

Anyway… I hope you’ll enjoy this one !

Worst parents ever

Lucas is in a hurry. The rain began to fall on the streets of Paris and the young man has no umbrella. Walking on Boulevard Barbès, Lucas tries to bury the baguette he just bought under his coat, nobody likes wet bread. A fast-moving car passes by him and, driving in a puddle of dirty water, splashes his jeans. “Damn…” he grumbles, fastening his pace a little more.

Night has fallen on Paris and the Christmas decorations shine brightly. Lucas has never been a great fan of the holiday season. Especially Christmas. The endless family dinners, the fake kindness and the crappy gifts of his old aunts? No thanks, not for him. Eliott, on the other hand, loves Christmas. Lucas remembers, nostalgic, of their very first Christmas together, many years ago. Offended to learn that Lucas didn’t like this great tradition, Eliott had done everything he could to make this evening unforgettable. Thanks to his many talents, both physical and artistic, he succeded, although Lucas has always refused to admit it. He smiles. After a busy day of work, he can’t wait to find his man and their daughter.

Éléonore, said Nour, is now two and a half, almost three. Lucas often looks at her and can’t repress a whiff of anxiety at the idea that she can grow up so fast. His thin blonde hair leaves place, for some months, to thick chestnut hair that Lucas and Eliott have the greatest difficulty to style. On his little nose, many small freckles have appeared. Only his big deep blue eyes like Lucas’ don’t seem to change. Now capable of the most spectacular acrobatics, she’s also a talkative little girl with an overflowing imagination, just like Eliott. Lucas is sure of this and can say, objectively, that their daughter is the most beautiful person in the world.

Going home every evening to his apartment that he loves so much, coming back to his lover and his daughter… He was so happy! Once in front of the big massive wood door, Lucas pushes it and come inside. Automatically, he puts his keys in the small box placed on the entrance furniture, takes off his shoes, leaves his soaked coat that hangs on the coat rack and walks in the narrow corridor, the baguette unscathed by any trace of rain in his hand. A smell of tomatoes, thyme and rosemary tickles his nostrils. Tomato in the middle of December? Lucas knows that Eliott can be very creative in kitchen but making such an affront to seasonal vegetables? No it’s not in his habits…

Lucas finds Eliott in the kitchen, busy over the sink, washing a green salad. Looking around him, Lucas doesn’t see Éléonore. No doubt she must be playing alone in her room with her many toys as it happens to her more and more often…

“It smells good.” Lucas say, smiling.

Eliott, who didn’t hear his manwalking behind his back, jumps and put a hand on his pounding heart.

"Damn Lucas, you scared me…”

Lucas laughs and puts a little kiss on Eliott’s cheek before placing the baguette on the worktop.

“What are you doing?” He asks, curiously, as he sits on one of the high bar stools near the sink.

"I had no idea so I warm a jar of ratatouille.” Eliott replies by refocusing on the salad.

“Mmmh… good idea!”

Last summer Lucas’ mother had gave them several jars of fresh ratatouille, telling them that during the cold and long winter months, they could at least have some sun in their plates. Smelling the scent of Mediterranean vegetables bursting with sun and olive oil, Lucas licks his lips in advance. Éléonore, too, loves the ratatouille of her grandmother. She, who, however, begins to sulk the vegetables for a few weeks, makes an exception for the famous Mamie Marie’s Ratatouille.

“You had a good day?” Lucas asks, absently looking at Eliott bustling around the salad.

"Meeting, meeting, meeting and… Meeting! We’re on a new project. It’s going to be great but it’s hyper ambitious so there’s a thousand things to see upstream of the real…

-Oh ok, cool.” Visibly immersed in his own mind, Lucas now stares at a tiny gnat drowning in the sink full of water.

"And yours?

-Yes, yes, it’s been okay…” He answers absentmindly, staring at the gnat.

Silence falls in the kitchen. Drops of water come to the windows and the wind rises almost conceals the noises of the Parisian traffic. Only Eliott continues to work on the preparation of the meal, Lucas remains motionless near the sink.

Finally, Lucas frowns and redirects his focus to Eliott, now busy taking out the plates and cutlery of the small wooden furniture on his right.

“It means that you’ll spend a lot of time with Amélie…

-Well yes, she’s the pre-real workload so yeah indeed, I’m going to work a lot with her. Why?

-Just to know…” Lucas scowls, crosses his arms against his chest and forces himself to think of something else.

Knowing very well why Lucas asks such a question, Eliott bites his cheek, forcing himself not to smirk. Nevertheless he’s not decided to let such an opportunity to make fun of his lover. For years Eliott has been working with Amelie, Lucas has always been jealous of the young woman. It’s true that Amelie is an attractive woman who has never tried to hide, in the past, the attraction she felt and still feels for Eliott. But he’s always very clear with her. Although Eliott can’t be more faithful to Lucas, the young man can’t help but worry. Diyng of jealousy to know that Eliott is gonna spend most of his time with this very beautiful and clever artist, Lucas can’t think straight anymore.

Eliott, pretending to clean the sink a little more, discreetly walked to Lucas.

"Besides… Speaking of Amélie… Today she showed us the new shoes she bought, really high heels, Louboutin. Wow, it makes her legs beautiful, you should see that… Aoutch!”

Lucas just kicked him.

“Stop it already!”

Eliott now laughs openly.

“Stop what?!

-I don’t fucking care about Amélie’s legs!

-You should, she’s beautiful! And then her little dress…

-For fuck’s sake!”

Raging and crimson cheeks of shame, Lucas punches Eliott’s shoulder. The latter, far from being offended, laughs again and walked closer.

“You know I don’t like that girl and you play with it!” Lucas complains, folding his arms back and lowering his head sulkily.

"Sorry, sorry… I can’t help it!” Eliott say, wiping a small tear of laughter at the corner of his eye.

He tries to take him in his arms but Lucas is struggling.

"You’re just a fucking sadist!”

Eliott laughs again and finally settles down. He puts a soft, gentle hand on Lucas’ cheek, encouraging him to look up at him.

“I’m sorry, but… I can’t believe you’re still so jealous. Even after more than ten years, the house, Nour, all that…

-Yeah I know it’s ridiculous… ” Lucas breathes, biting his lip.

“No it’s not ridiculous, it’s… quite flattering actually.” Eliott smiles. "But once again… You’re the only one who counts, you know it.”

Lucas smiles as well, sighs and relax his muscles. His hands rest on Eliott’s hips.

“I know…

-And then you have nothing to envy to Amélie.

-Really?

-Really.”

Lucas, still sitting on the bar stool, legs apart to accommodate Eliott closer to his body, raises his eyebrows.

“She’s one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen though.

"Yeah well…” Says Eliott unconvincingly. “Allow me anyway to put your tastes about women in question.” As Lucas prepares to retort, his man keeps talking. "She’s too tall… My type is smaller people…” He finished with a mocking smile.

"I’m not that small!” Lucas complains.

"Who tells you that you’re my type?

-You jerk!”

As Lucas begins to slap Eliott’s abs with his fists, he grabs his face with his hands and puts his lips on his.

“I love you Lucas…” he whispers between two kisses.

“I love you too, bastard…” Lucas answers.

The two men kiss each other. Eliott’s hands are set in Lucas’ neck. The latter grabs the bottom of his husband’s tee-shirt and strokes his bare stomach. Their tongues touch and play together. Eliott’s hands move up in his hair pulling them slightly. Lucas scratches his thin skin lightly, stroking his belly button and his ribs. Deep in his throat, Eliott lets out a small sigh of ease, without getting away from the mouth of Lucas. It’s the latter, at this sound, which moves away slightly, he licks his red and swollen lips, he rests his hands on his knees. Eliott frowns and looks sulky.

“Wait, no, don’t take kissing away from me.” He says, trying to take him back to him.

Lucas smiles. Yes, of course, he would love to keep kissing him, but at the same moment, a whole other preoccupation is coming to his mind.

"If we don’t stop right now, I’m not sure I could control myself for a long time…”

Eliott cuts him off by sticking his pelvis to his.

“I like that…” He moans close to his ear.

“I think it’s more reasonable to wait for Nour to be sleeping Babe…” Lucas smiles again, not finding the strength to walk away.

Hearing his daughter’s name, Eliott sighs, puts his forearms on Lucas’ shoulders and displays a look of deep reflection.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right…” He admits in a half smile. “It would be a shame to traumatise her for the rest of her life… By the way, where is she? That’s it, it’s teenage time? She doesn’t even want to come and kiss her father after a hard day at the childcare centre?” Eliott asks, glancing down the corridor to the bedrooms.

Lucas raises his eyebrows, losing his bright smile. He moves a little further and looks Eliott straight in the eyes.

"You’re joking right?” He asks his husband.

Eliott, not understanding what Lucas means, rising in turn a mocking eyebrow.

"Yes, Lu’, it’s a joke. I don’t seriously think that our two-and-a-half year old girl is already in her teens…

-No, I mean… She’s playing in her room right?

-Well yeah, I guess.

-Eliott…”

The two men look at each other, the same expression scandalised on their two faces. The situation seems to clear suddenly for one as for the other.

“Did you get her at the childcare center when you went out of work?” Lucas asks.

"No! It was you who were supposed to pick her up on the way back! You didn’t do it?

-No I didn’t!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Understanding that their daughter is not at home as expected, Eliott rushes to the other end of the living room, to his phone that he had put there an hour or two ago.

“6 missed calls from the center!” He shouts, panicked.

"They tried to call me too!” Lucas answers from the small entrance where he went to get his coat in which he had buried his own phone.

Pacing up and down in the living room, the phone sticked to his ear, Eliott calls back the childcare center. Lucas joins him, collapses on one of the chairs, takes his head in his hands, nerves alive, succumbing to the stress of such a situation.

"Hello… Yes, I’m Éléonore’s father.” Eliott introduces himself, his worried eyes staring into Lucas’ anxious ones. "I’m really sorry, there was a misunderstanding and… Yes, yes, very well, thank you. Sorry again, we… We just… I know… Yes… We’re coming right now, sorry, we’ll be there in five-ten minutes.”

Coming out of the house with Eliott, Lucas doesn’t mind the rain anymore. In a big hurry, the two men walked fast to the childcare center.

“Fuck! We spoke about it yesterday! It was you who had to go and catch her!” Lucas yells, already out of breath.

"No no no! It was you who was supposed to come home with her!

-But that makes no sense! It’s you who came home first!

-Yes but the center is on your way, not mine!”

The two men remains silent, each convinced to be right.

After a little while, Lucas lowers his head and burries his hands in his coat.

“Damn… We’re the worst parents ever…” he said in a sad and shameful tone.

“Don’t say that.” Eliott answers without looking at him or slowing down.

"But we’re not even fucking able to decide properly who’s supposed to care about our daughter at the childcare cen…”

-Shut up!“

Lucas is guilt-ridden. Honestly and in theory, he knows very well that he overreacts. Éléonore is perfectly safe at the childcare center, they’re only late for an hour and then mistakes can happen from time to time… But he can’t help himself. How could they forget their own daughter? Worse still, how did they do to not realise earlier that the little girl wasn’t in the house? And if she hadn’t been to the childcare center, what if a stranger had come to get her? What if, what if … Before Éléonore came into his world, Lucas was the first to make fun of all those parents feeling guilty for the slightest mistake about their offspring. And now, he and Eliott find themselves in the same situation… What a joke!

Eliott pushes the door of the childcare center and introduces himself to one of the childcare worker at the entrance. On his heels, Lucas sees Éléonore playing quietly alone with small wooden cubes. Not caring a lot about the worker, he breaks off quickly, takes off his shoes and rushes alongside the little girl on the playthings. He crouches down and takes her in his arms.

"Oh sorry… Sorry babygirl…” He holds her tight and kisses her hair. “We’re here.”

Obviously the little girl doesn’t seem to have realised that her two dads had forgotten to pick her up. Lucas puts his hands under her armpits, places her against his chest and keeps her close to him while standing up. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Letting herself be carried into the entrance, the little girl sees Eliott in great discussion with the childcare worker. Visibly surprised to see that her both of her dads have exceptionally come to get her, Eleanor made a funny face.

“Papa?

-Yes, see? We came both! We really wanted to see you!”

Lucas stops near Eliott. The latter turns to his husband and daughter, smiles and lays a kiss on the little girl’s round cheek.

“Hi you. How are you?

-Good!

-What did you do today?

-I did the painting!” The girl answers playfully, proudly showing her two little hands on which there are still some traces of red paint.

Lucas turns to the woman.

“We’re really sorry, I don’t even understand what happened…

-Oh do not worry too much! As I said to your husband, this can happen to everyone.

-No but really, sorry…

-Listen, you’re not the first to whom it happens and you wont be the last, believe my long experience.”

Lucas smiles at her sheepishly, absently stroking his daughter’s hair.

“And then…” Keeps saying the woman. “It’s a pretty good thing!”

At these words, the two men raise their eyebrows.

“It means that your world doesn’t revolve around Éléonore only. That’s a good thing! She needs to see that everything is not just working for her only, that she’s not the center of the whole world, especially at that age. There are times when we don’t necessarily think about our children, it’s pretty healthy actually.”

Lucas bites his cheek, thinking back to what they were just doing to forget their own daughter. Seeking to hide his embarrassment, he drops the little girl on the ground so that she can get her shoes in the small lockers near the entrance. Eliott bends down and helps her to put on her shoes.

Seeing two other pairs of shoes in the lockers, Lucas looks up at the woman.

“There are still children?

-We don’t close until late, around 9:30 pm, for parents who have atypical schedules.”

Lucas nods before putting on his own shoes.

Once Éléonore has put on her thick coat, Eliott takes her in his arms. The little girl frowns and tries to struggle.

“Nooo! I want to walk!!” She gasped. Eliott doesn’t let her go and shakes his head.

"Sorry kitten but it’s raining a lot and…” He glances at Lucas. The latter shrugs. “And as we left the house quickly, we forgot to take an umbrella so we will walk very quickly to not get wet.”

Lucas bites his cheek again. They didn’t even think of sheltering their daughter from the rain… really, they fucked up everything today! The shrill voice of the little girl draws him from his dark thoughts.

“Will you run?” She asks Eliott. Éléonore loves when Eliott carries her on his back while running at full speed, it’s even one of her favourite activities. His father laughs.

"Of course! Everything you want tonight Mademoiselle Lallemant.” He replies, kissing her forehead.

His coat on, Lucas turns to the woman, standing there, watching them tenderly.

"Well… We’ll go now. Thank you very much and sorry again for all that.

-Do not worry, not a big problem, really. Next time make sure to keep your phones with you.” She answers with a smile.

"It wont happen again.” Lucas adds, shaking her hand. "Nour, you say goodbye?

-Goodbye!” Nour yells, still in Eliott’s arms, waving her hand to the woman.

"See you tomorrow sweethart.” She greets her back, giving her a small wink.

On the way back, Lucas looks in front of him, Eliott running in the rain, holding Éléonore firmly in his arms. The little girl laughs loudly. Lucas could never get tired of this laugh for sure.

Back home, while Eliott kneels in the small entrance, helping their daughter to get rid of her coat and shoes, a burning smell suddenly rises to Lucas’ nostril.

"Oh fuck!” He rushes into the kitchen. In the saucepan, the ratatouille is totally burnt and lets escape a blackish smoke. With a quick gesture, he grabs the pan and puts it in the sink before running the water.

"Damn fucking shit… That must be a fucking joke…” Lucas takes his head in his hands. “We make everything mess!” He slaps his forehead with the palm of one of his hands.

He feels so guilty to not being able to do anything right. He would like to be that perfect, caring, organised father, but deep down, tonight, he still feels like a teenager who has trouble growing up. He knows it’s fleeting, he’s aware that most of the time things don’t go so bad but… Tonight is too much…

On his back, he feels Eliott taking him in his arms. The man puts his hands on his stomach, puts his head on his shoulder and hugs him, his chest stucked to Lucas’ back.

"It’s okay…” he whispers in his ear.

“But Eli, look, we’re fucking pathetic…” Lucas complains, thinking back to the forgetting of their own daughter and their house full of an unpleasant burning smell. He begins to run out of air and feels his belly knot. Eliott moves slightly away to give him room to turn around.

“Hey, hey, calm down, Lucas… look at me. Look at me…”

Lucas turns around and stares into the calm and reassuring eyes of his man.

“Nour’s perfectly fine, she’s here, with us. And about the ratatouille… It doesn’t matter at all. It’s nothing… ” He told him confidently. Lucas nods, soothed by the sound of Eliott’s voice.

“What are we eating then?” He asks in a weak voice.

Eliott frowns and thinks.

“Hmmm… we can order a pizza!” Leaving Lucas’ eyes, he turns towards the living room in the direction of Éléonore, who is busy telling the contents of her day to one of her stuffed toys, sitting on the ground at the foot of the Christmas tree. "Nour… Do you like pizza?”

The little girl raises her big blue eyes towards her father. She doesn’t answer anything, obviously not understanding what Eliott is asking to her.

“Pizza… You know, the round good thing with other stuff on it…”

The little girl frowns before refocusing on her stuffed toy. Obviously what her father tells her, not only does she not understand it but she doesn’t really care about it either.

“Oh my God…” Eliott blows tragically, a hint of indignation in his voice.

“What?” Lucas asks.

"Our own daughter has never tasted pizza in her whole life…” He says, eyes round, slowly turning to his husband.

“Well… Uh yeah… Maybe not with us but wi…

-That’s the real shame, Lucas! What unworthy fathers we are!” He exclaims in a perfect dramaqueen’s impersonation. "We have to fix this right now!” He adds, grabbing his phone to call their favourite pizzeria.

A smile on his lips, Lucas looks at him, his own blue eyes filled with unspeakable tenderness.

A little later in the evening, Eliott and Lucas are settled in the couch. Éléonore is sitting between them. Just out of the bath, her hair is still wet and her skin smells like baby soap. In her hand, she holds a small slice of pizza she carries to her mouth, already smeared with tomato sauce. Her two dads watch her eatting with appetite.

"So? You like pizza?” Lucas asks her smiling.

The little girl just nods, too busy eating her new favourite dish to answer properly to her own father.

Lucas sighs of ease, keeps smiling and lets himself go against the back of the couch, a hand resting on his daughter’s back. He looks at the ceiling thoughtfully. Eliott prefers not to waste time and takes a large slice of pizza.

"You know what?”

Eliott turns to him, traces of tomato sauce at the corners of his mouth, just like their daughter. At this sight, Lucas laughs.

"I think we’re not so bad fathers…” Lucas says.

“Of course we’re not.” Eliott replies.

“We forget our daughter at the childcare center, we almost burn our kitchen, we don’t eat at the table but on the couch by putting crumbs everywhere but…” He pauses, watching Éléonore and Eliott. “We’re happy like that.” He finished with a smile.

"And that’s what counts.” Adds Eliott, his mouth full of pizza.

"Yeah, that’s what counts…”.

[ayellowcurtain]

I need some Elu fluff to forget about wtfock aka hell // so could you maybe write some fluff about them? Maybe Lucas going to see Eliott at college by surprise and meeting his new friends?

---

After checking with the bus driver that he’s on the right one, Lucas comes back to his seat. He doesn’t usually fidget, just when he’s really nervous. It’s such an Eliott thing too so he tries to stop it, putting his hands under his thighs to warm up a little.

Then he starts tapping his feet against the floor, looking out the window. It’s already starting to get darker and colder outside and Lucas is almost sure he didn’t put enough clothes for a winter night. Hopefully, Eliott has a spare jacket with him.

It’s sort of a surprise so Lucas is hoping he won’t be too late. They are supposed to meet outside Eliott’s favorite restaurant just a few blocks from their home, but Lucas decided to come all the way to Eliott’s college. He hopes it’s a good surprise, that Eliott will be happy, but deep down, his jealousy also wants to see the people that Eliott hangs out with. If he’s spending too much time talking to someone else…

He’s the first one to get off the bus, walking fast down the street, closing his jacket and taking his hood off, fixing his hair. His phone tells him that he’s five minutes late so he walks even faster, holding the gate as he almost slips when turning to get inside the patio.

Brown and wild hair, tall, brown jacket. Lucas’ eyes know what they’re looking for and it’s never hard to find Eliott. He’s talking to two other guys that Lucas doesn’t know, but it’s normal. It’s unusual for them to go out with other people if they have a chance to hang out just the two of them, especially since Eliott started college. 

Now they’re not studying together and so, living separately changed as well. One week after Eliott started college, they couldn’t do it anymore so Lucas moved in with Eliott just so they could be together a little longer every morning and every night.

Lucas doesn’t know how to approach them. As far as he knows, Eliott’s friends know about Lucas, but he doesn’t want to just go there and kiss Eliott in front of everyone if his boyfriend is not okay with it.

When he’s getting closer, still not really knowing how to act, one of the other guys look at him and he points at Lucas and Eliott turns his head, instantly smiling and Lucas forgets about why he was so worried to come to pick his handsome boyfriend to go on a romantic date.

“Hey, you…” Eliott says as he comes closer, crashing their lips together, holding Lucas’ neck in place and Lucas smiles against his soft lips, putting his arms around his neck.

“Hi!” Lucas sighs, keeping his eyes closed as Eliott kisses him again, smiling too. His heart still jumps every time. Lucas is so ridiculously in love. Eliott puts both arms around his waist, taking him off the floor, walking back to his friends.

Lucas feels his cheeks getting so warm. He knows they’re way too much sometimes and his friends are used to it, all the kisses and constantly touching each other, but these are new guys. Eliott introduces them and Lucas smiles when he’s “Eliott’s boyfriend”.

Apparently, Eliott showed pictures of them to his new friends, that’s why they recognized Lucas.

“Do you have a hoodie? I’m freezing!” Eliott nods his head, putting his bag on the floor to grab his extra hoodie, he smiles as he offers it to Lucas.

“It’ll be too big for you, but I guess it works.” He wiggles his eyebrows and Lucas rolls his eyes. Eliott always teases Lucas about wearing his clothes that are obviously way too big, but he’s also constantly stealing Lucas’ romance hoodie so it doesn’t matter. 

He feels weird as he puts the black hoodie, knowing that Eliott’s friends are watching him do it with a smile on their faces. Lucas has friends and he knows all the jokes Eliott will have to deal from now on. 

Eliott keeps talking to his friends for a little longer and Lucas just pays attention, discovering a new side of his boyfriend. It’s usually the other way around, Lucas’ friends became Eliott’s friends and Sofiane and Idriss were in Eliott’s life before Lucas, so it’s the first time he sees Eliott actually making friends. 

They’re both very chill and just as artsy as Eliott, talking about movies Lucas never heard before, but he saves the titles for later. Their taste in movies are very different, but Lucas always tries to watch Eliott’s movies anyway. 

Eliott holds his hand when they have to go, hugging his friends with one arm and Lucas does the same after him, saying how nice it was to meet Eliott’s friends and for them to keep an eye on him for Lucas. 

In another season, they would walk to the restaurant, stopping every five minutes to kiss, but it’s way too cold. Eliott puts his arm around Lucas’ shoulder, keeping him close so Lucas can use the warmth of his body just like he’s using Eliott’s hoodie. 

“Your friends are nice.” Lucas says when they’re finally hiding from the freezing wind at the bus stop. Eliott nods his head, kissing Lucas’ temple, looking at the street to see if their bus is coming. 

“You’re nicer.” He whispers against Lucas’ temple and Lucas looks up, smiling and asking for a kiss. 

“I hope so!”