#glad this is a regular occurrence for me now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hotheadedhero · 6 months ago

Note

hellooo!! I’ve never done this before. So I’m hoping I did it right.

can you please write a one shot rise Donnie x mystical user (preferably yokai) reader? Where Donnie feels like he’s constantly competing against the reader, and is always down playing mystic. To the point where reader confronts him :>.

AN: Hello there! I'm so glad you trusted me with your first request. It was really fun to write 😋 I hope it does the job <3

Science vs Mystic

Donatello x Reader

Warnings: angst, arguing, I didn't proof read, kinda made Donnie an ass in this I'm sorry

Donatello’s disdain for the mystic arts and magic alike has always been well known. Ever since he and his family came across the strange world hidden beneath New York, this distaste has only grown. It continues to grow with every adventure involving such, which is becoming a more regular occurrence than he’s comfortable with.

Then, you came along. You with your inexplicably, aggravating abilities. He had hoped that after the day was saved and the trouble was dealt with, that would be the last of your affiliation. Quite the opposite, it turned out. A permanent friend was made out of you that day, which meant frequent team-ups and visits by yours truly. In his mind, he’s tried to put aside the differences, he’s attempted to let bygones be bygones, but you always manage to steal the spotlight with your ostensibly fantastical displays.

Perhaps it's jealousy. His brothers are always so enamoured by your mystical mastery, showering you with compliments after each fight you assist. They just won't shut up about how cool you are. What's "cool" is how he has been able to make his inventions in a sewer, how he’s turned a bunch of scraps into the glorious creations they are now. Sure, he may need to commandeer the odd chemical from time to time but what he does is leaps and bounds more impressive than your flashy little magic shows. Illusions are based on principles of physics and mathematics. There is objective evidence for it all. The charms that your kind uses to blend in with humanity? Simple. Like how military operations will cater technology to make their vehicles appear invisible, it’s a matter of deflecting light around an object. This same premise can be applied. Rather than deflecting the light, your charms can refract it and make a person appear to be someone they’re not. Mere cloaking devices. In fact, he’s been working on something similar for himself and his brothers.

If not that, chemistry plays a fundamental role, at least. So what if you can shoot sparks of light from your sleeves? Fireworks. That’s all it is and those are just ignited gunpowder with various metal compounds to create different colours. You can make plants grow from the ground at inhuman rates? Poppycock, he says. Ever heard of auxin? Cytokinin? These are just a couple of the plant growth regulators that are so ordinarily used by modern man. Even then, you probably dabble in the use of mutagen to make it seem more impressive.

Scratch the jealousy. There’s nothing to be envious of. He knows that science is superior. It always has been and always will be. He can hardly say he's surprised by his family's fascination. They aren't as intellectually adept as he is. Unfortunately, that commentary doesn't provide him with the closure he needs to feel that much better about it, which is why he resorts to jabbing at your abilities with passing comments, whether they be snide, sarcastic or just downright mean.

You aren't an idiot. You can feel his malice towards you before he even has a chance to open his mouth. At first, you merely thought it was a feature of his persona - that it’s in his nature to berate what can’t be explained by science. That was a misstep in your thinking. His entire deal is that everything can be explained with science. Try you may to convince him otherwise but it’s always the same song and dance: you curate something with your magic and he shuts it down with a zealous drone that is starting to grate on you.

If you were to ever meet someone outside of your home, you were always taught that there would be an indifference to your powers. People often either shun what they don’t understand or change the scriptures to what they’re familiar with so they can understand it, even if it means they’re wrong. You have always sworn to be the bigger person and not stoop to such levels of belittling pettiness but it’s getting harder. There’s only so many times you can bite your tongue before you start bleeding from the mouth. As waining as it may be on your patience, there are civil ways of going about this. You have been practising the conversation in your head for days now. Everything to want to make peace with has been rehearsed over and over and over again. With your head held high, you march right over to the garage and there he is, tinkering away at one of his many inventions.

“Donatello,” you declare, making your presence known. “Can we talk?”

Without looking, he hums and flails a dismissive hand in your direction. He doesn’t even bother to wave his real hand, opting for the use of a bionic limb so that he may keep his focus on his work. You bite your tongue like you have so many times before and tread closer. You had hoped that your irregular hardiness would be enough for him to realise you mean business but nothing. He fails to turn his music down even, so you take the liberty of doing it yourself. His lack of respect is already urging a rise out of you but you keep your mantra in mind: remain peaceful, aggression leads you nowhere.

You breathe deeply to settle yourself and start your case, “Why do you always make such a point of overruling my abilities with science?”

“It’s not an overruling,” he retorts blandly. “I’m merely giving you the facts.”

“What you think are the facts,” you correct him.

"Please. Science is unquestionable.” Still, his eyes are glued to his device rather than paying attention to the situation at hand. “Atoms make the very backbone of everything that exists, etcetera, etcetera. Need I go on?” There’s that grating tone in his voice again; snobbish and agonisingly vain. “You can't seriously tell me that ‘magic’ has a constructive place in the world nearly as much as science does."

"I can if it's what I grew up believing," you object, more stern but remaining the peacekeeper where you can. “How would you feel if I tried to pick apart everything you believe and tell you it means nothing?”

He scoffs, “As if you could.”

“Excuse me?” you ask through your teeth.

The tips of your fingers dig into your palms. By now, your blood is boiling. It’s one thing to throw out the odd comment but now it feels as though he’s making a straight mockery out of you. Keep a steady pace. You can do this. It’s becoming increasingly difficult but you know you can see this through without a violent fit.

“Science is everything and that is the objective truth. Magic is just-”

“Donatello,” you attempt to gently interrupt him lest he anger you further but he takes no notice.

“- a childish way-”

“Stop.”

“- to view the world in fairy-like wonder.”

“Oh my stars, just shut up,” you cry out, "you arrogant, condescending, self-bloated ignoramus!”

You throw your fists down at your sides and the very ground beneath you shakes. Where he was so absorbed in his creation, he failed to realise how worked up you were getting. You undeniably have his full attention now. If your outburst alone wasn’t enough to shut his mouth, the large cracks around your feet certainly are. There’s a wide, unfocused glow in your eyes and you’re heaving for air. He sits up, prepares to say something but his lips lock back down when yours open again.

“I am not just talking about stories or fairy tales or made-up fantasies from a child’s daydream! This is my life!”

Another loud shriek erupts from your chest, seizing the fragile floor and destroying it further. Luckily, it isn’t enough to permanently harm the infrastructure but it makes for a harrowing sight: your crumbling emotions devastating that which surrounds you. Silence follows, though not completely. Stray pieces of broken brick clammer around you two.

In the short seconds that you try to regain your breath, Donnie stares up at you. Once shadowed over his hunched frame, your body is now slumped and weary. Your eyes point up at the ceiling in an attempt to stop crying but to no avail. In the end, you decide to just cover them with your hand.

“All you're doing is trying to convince me that my life is a lie,” you shakily whisper, “and if that’s how it’s going to be then I… I just can’t.”

You walk out before he has a chance to consider a response, leaving him in his stupefied state. His gaze follows the largest crack from the floor to the ceiling until it falls back on the doorway. By no means had he ever intended to make you doubt your livelihood. He was just… he was… he doesn’t know what he was doing, actually. Have his unappetising quips really led you to such turmoil? His face slowly morphs into a frown and he finds himself lying back on his shell. Then, his lips scrunch together and his throat groans in frustration. He shouldn’t feel bad for handing out the realities. He shouldn’t harbour guilt when you’ve been stealing his brothers’ attention all this time.

Oh.

The back of his head taps back into the ground. Gosh darn it. Jealousy. That’s the kicker. It has been this whole time. He’d like to leave it at that and continue with his previous task but he knows his family would start asking questions. His heart doth protest against his logical brain too much. With another long lament into the open air, he pries himself onto his feet and readies his venture to retrieve you. Such fun. Not only does he have to help a mystic user but now he has to traverse the very land from which you came.

It doesn’t pan out the way he initially thought it would, however. The time he has to himself whilst he scavenges - the time he has to think - is time enough for him to go over your words. More so, the look on your face. He hates to admit it but his short-sightedness led him astray and hurt you. Whilst he doesn’t put much thought towards mystics, you are still a valued friend of his family. You’ve aided them so many times in their missions. You’re a person of great power even if that power comes from something he disagrees with. His brows furrow and he grimaces. Okay. He’ll admit he was out of line. That can wait, however. He still needs to find you first.

Donatello searches high and low across every surface of the mystic lands as he prowls further, faster. He always forgets how big it is. New York is an impressive feat but this realm could be worthy of putting it to shame on size alone. His efforts almost seem fruitless but, finally, he spots you atop a hillside, sitting with your legs pressed into your chest. The sight of your dimmed spirit tips him further into shame. He hates that fact but he supposes it’s the least he deserves.

Before he knows it, he’s standing beside you. He didn’t realise he had gotten here so quickly upon finding you but here he is. You just about look up at him but your eyes quickly fall back onto the luscious landscape. There’s no telling what he plans to say or even why he’s followed you this far. You can’t say you have the energy to argue further, nor can you find it in yourself to tell him to leave. You can only hope he chooses his words carefully whilst he’s in the centre of your home.

“I don’t really know how to go about this,” he admits. “I…”

He blows out a breath and sits down beside you. For all the time he took to find you, he thought he would have at least thought about what he wanted to say. It isn’t that he lacks the capacity to apologise but admitting he’s wrong is a whole other kettle of fish he struggles to reach into. The whole crux of this is that he couldn’t admit to being wrong, he couldn’t allow your very being to defy what he believes to be the sole truth and the only truth. If there’s ever a time for trying, it’s now.

“I’m sorry. This has all been blown wildly out of proportion.” Donatello holds his hands together and his mouth curls uncomfortably. Part of this may involve revealing what he wishes to keep a secret but if it stands any chance of helping the situation, it may be his only resort. “I suppose it just seems unfair that you can make all of these things happen with the wave of your hand whilst I work so hard to accomplish the same.”

His head falls between his legs and yours lifts to properly look at him. Had he tried to illustrate this earlier, the whole ordeal may have been avoidable. Better late than never, you suppose. You never meant to feed into whatever inferiority complex he’s dealing with but that still doesn’t excuse the way he’s acted towards you. You want to get mad again and tell him just that but his shrunken stature speaks for you. Guilt is the moral emotion of a man who realises that they have compromised or has violated universal moral standards and bears significant responsibility for that violation - he who knows he has done wrong. That alone is a start to pave the way for what you had longed for. It’s a shame it came to this to begin with but beggars can’t be choosers.

“It was never my intent to upset you,” he continues when you stay silent. “Would you please come back to the lair? My brothers enjoy your company, so…”

“I’ll come back on one condition.” You turn back to the view but an invisible string tugs at your mouth. “You don’t have to agree with everything I stand for but can we at least put our differences behind us and be friends?” you ask and the upward lilt in your voice gives him a hope he hadn’t anticipated to be so easy. “Who’s to say science and mystics can’t co-exist?”

You outstretch your hand with a coy, friendly smile. He wouldn’t have blamed you if you were to give him an earful about his behaviour but this is far better. It’ll be a good chance to at least try and make up for all the awful things he’s said. If not for his own gratification then for the sake of his family in keeping an ally around.

One of his robotic limbs goes for the shake only to stop. If he’s going to do this, he’s going to do it properly. His fingers sequentially tap against his palm before he reaches out and clasps your hand. Your smile brightens and, in turn, his cheeks rise above an apologetic grin. Even if he has his quarrels with your powers, what you stand for, he doesn’t need to hold issue with you as a person. Who knows? This could be the start of a wonderful friendship. Jeez, though, remind him to never get on your bad side. He still needs to repair those damages to the garage.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt #rise tmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the turtles #donatello #rise donnie #donnie #donatello x reader #donnie x reader #tmnt x reader #x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #angsty #request #answered

105 notes · View notes

azelsdoormat · 27 days ago

Text

Azel Radwan Main Story

► Chapter 2

This translation is fanmade and strictly for entertainment purposes only. All media and original content belong to Cybird. Do not use, claim as your own, repost or reupload onto other platforms, reblogs are welcome.

After leaving Tanzanite’s port, we travelled by carriage along a well-maintained road.

The scenery gradually began to lose its greenery and water, transitioning into a dry and sandy desert.

…

(... It’s hotter than I imagined.)

(But it's so exciting because I’ll never experience this back in Rhodolite!)

Partway through our journey, we switched to camels which were the go-to mode of transport in the desert and continued down an unmarked path.

While I couldn't see any visible roads, our guides Basil and Kamal were confident in leading the way.

As I took regular sips of water and enjoyed my first-ever desert experience, scattered remnants of ruins began appearing.

Emma: What are these…?

Basil: A former city. Ahead lies the original site of the Primordial Temple.

Emma: “Primordial Temple”?

Basil: It refers to the temple in which the gods reside.

Basil: Due to the deterioration of the original structure, the temple has since been relocated near the royal court…

Basil: But where we’re headed to right now is the residence of the “First Living God”.

(Specifying “first” would mean that there have been multiple living gods up till now.)

Basil: His Holiness Azel prefers to live in the weathered ruins of the Primordial Temple.

Emma: Is it even… habitable?

Basil: I’m glad you asked!

Basil: Normally, it would be inhabitable. But once you lay your eyes on it, you’ll see the greatness of His Holiness Azel, and by the way—

Before Basil could start rambling away again, Kamal threw the hair ornament she was wearing straight at him.

(That looks painful…)

But the way Basil caught the ornament with a calm smile showed that this was a common occurrence.

Basil: Ah, look over there! That’s the Primordial Temple, where His Holiness Azel resides.

Following Basil’s words, the sandstorm cleared and—

Standing there was a isolated castle in the middle of the desert, far larger than I imagined.

Emma: Wow…

I gasped as I stared in awe at the fortress that exuded a presence unique to Tanzanite, a symbol of its long history.

Its outer walls, as eroded as the other ruins we had passed by earlier, looked as though they were on the verge of crumbling apart.

However, upon taking a closer look, there were some visible traces of repair works done.

(There really is a god living here…)

Emma: What an interesting structure.

Akatsuki: Looks rundown.

Emma: Owner!

Akatsuki: It’s the truth.

Basil: That’s because it's over 1000 years old.

Emma: 1000 years!?

(Amazing… it’s a miracle that the structure is still intact after all those years.)

(I wonder how much history this isolated castle has witnessed.)

We dismounted the camels and stepped into the temple.

The sand beneath our feet gave way to reveal a stone pavement, and the air seemed to cool slightly thanks to the surrounding structures.

???: Thank you for taking the trouble to come all the way out to such a remote location.

A gentle, compassionate, yet unfamiliar voice was heard. It was neither Basil, Kamal, nor the Owner.

And the moment I heard it—

[ Flashback ]

???: Why do you yearn for love?

[ Flashback End ]

It felt like I was looking at an illusion.

(... Just now—)

I tightly shut my eyes in an attempt to shake off the vision.

When I snapped back to reality, I saw a figure standing in the distance.

His hair glistened under the sunlight, and his eyes were strikingly beautiful even from afar.

Despite it being in the middle of the day, that person somehow reminded me of a full moon.

He approached us with gentle footsteps, wearing a pure and benevolent smile on his face.

Emma: Oh!

Akatsuki: Something wrong?

Emma: … Nothing.

(I knew it. I’ve seen this person before.)

(I can't seem to remember when or where we met.)

Although I couldn't recall, there was no doubt that he was the living god of the land of divination and illusions, the person Basil referred to as “His Holiness Azel”.

(... His eyes are so beautiful, it's otherworldly.)

(I was skeptical about it until I got here, but he really does look like a god.)

Azel: That will do, the two of you. I appreciate your efforts.

(Come to think of it, it’s been a while since I last heard Basil’s voice.)

I turned around to see Basil’s eyes shining brighter than the sun behind his glasses, overflowing with devotion and worship.

Next to him, Kamal put an arm around his neck and started dragging him away.

(... He looks like he’s being choked, but I guess he’ll be alright.)

Azel: My apologies. Akatsuki, have you brought the items I requested?

Akatsuki: Emma.

Emma: Y-yes.

(Right, my baggage.)

I set down the baggage that was lighter than the Owner’s usual load and took out several books that were placed near the top of the pile.

Before we left Rhodolite, I was entrusted with the task of delivering those.

When I handed them to Azel, I was drawn in by his sympathising and affectionate smile.

Azel: Thank you very much, those must have been heavy.

Emma: No, not at all. Thank you for placing your order with us.

Azel: The pleasure is mine. I genuinely appreciate you for fulfilling my unreasonable requests, Akatsuki and Emma.

(Wait, he knows my name?)

(... Maybe the Owner told him before?)

Azel: Where did you go to make your purchases this time?

Akatsuki: Achroite.

Azel: Ah, that country is indeed a treasure trove of academic literature.

Akatsuki: This is the 100th time you’ve ordered a book of a similar genre. You never tire of them.

Azel: That is because they are necessary.

Emma: Does Your Holiness have an interest in astronomy?

The books I handed over to Azel were old academic papers about the moon and the stars.

(I read through them because they needed some restoration work, but the contents were too complex to understand.)

Azel: I am not the only one. All who perform divinations in Tanzanite have great interest in the sky.

Azel: Reading the stars is the most fundamental part of divination in our country, after all.

Emma: Reading the stars…?

Azel: So-called “astrology”. Although the popular method used here is one that is unique to Tanzanite.

Emma: Wow, I didn't know Tanzanite had its own unique methods… as expected from the country of divination.

Azel: Isn't it?

For a brief moment — Azel’s benevolent smile seemed to twist into a more enigmatic expression.

Azel: I could read your fortune for you if you’re interested.

Azel: Please, allow me to repay you for going out of your way to come to a place like this.

(The living god’s divinations—)

[ Flashback ]

Akatsuki: His divinations are infallible. Like clairvoyance, they’re never wrong and the people are crazy about them.

Akatsuki: Even now, the people of Tanzanite could be witnessing the miracles brought to them by their god.

[ Flashback End ]

(I’m not sure if it's really okay for me to accept his kind offer… but I’m honestly curious about my future.)

I snuck a glance at the Owner, who gave me an encouraging nod.

Emma: If it's not too much of a hassle… may I take you up on your offer?

Azel: Certainly. However, because I am a god, my divination methods are rather different.

Azel: Instead of using your horoscope, I will be directly reading the star you possess.

Emma: The star I…?

Azel: It is something invisible to the eyes of ordinary people that only I can see.

(That makes sense… I can’t really imagine it, but it wouldn't be surprising if those eyes of his were really capable of seeing extraordinary things.)

Azel: It will only be a simple divination, but what would you like to know?

Emma: In that case, I’d like to know the luck I have with romance.

Azel: … I figured you’d ask for that.

(Did his facial expression just twitch or… am I imagining things?)

Those mystical eyes that resembled a night sky full of stars seemed to peer right into the depths of my soul, unravelling my innermost secrets.

Azel: Let me see…

Azel: I recommend that you give up on romance.

Emma: Is it that bad!?

Azel: Yes, it appears that you have horrible luck with men. What a pity.

Azel: I see a future wherein you fall in love with an evil man, get exploited for money, and are treated like a slave.

(The living god’s divinations are said to be infallible… ughh…)

Azel: However, divination is, after all, purely a divination.

Azel: Regardless of what I say, despite my status as a god, your future is ultimately yours to shape.

(So whether the results are good or bad, everything depends on my actions.)

Emma: Thank you. I’ll bear your advice in mind.

Azel: Fufu…

Azel: —... An easy target.

(...? I didn't quite catch that, but…)

Azel’s benevolent smile returned to his face before he shifted his gaze from me to the Owner.

Azel: The two of you will be staying in Tanzanite for some time, am I right?

Akatsuki: Yeah. I want a peddling permit this time too.

Azel: That has already been arranged. I have also arranged for guest rooms to be prepared for you at the royal palace, so please take your time to relax.

(Guest rooms in… the palace!?)

Akatsuki: Thank you for taking care of us every visit.

(He does this every single time!?)

Azel: No, no, it is nothing to thank me for.

(... This definitely doesn't look like “nothing” to me, though.)

Azel: You are an outstanding book merchant indispensable to me…

Azel fixed his eyes onto me.

Azel: I will have many more opportunities to rely on you too, Emma.

Azel: I look forward to your continued support in the future.

With the living god watching over us, we left the temple and walked through the sand towards the city visible in the distance.

…

We passed through bustling streets worthy of being tourist destinations…

… and arrived at a palace with a different kind of splendor from the one in Rhodolite.

Waiting for us was a lavish feast filled with the desert’s local delicacies.

In the impressively huge dance hall where the moon looked like it was only within an arm's reach, many other people were gathered.

They appeared to be Tanzanite’s nobles and royalty, making it look like a party.

I was captivated by the dancers performing on a stage at the center of the hall.

(Ballroom dancing is standard in Rhodolite…)

(But in Tanzanite, it seems that inviting dancers to perform is the norm.)

While I was fascinated by everything happening around me, a hand reached out to me from behind and tapped me on the shoulder.

Clavis: I didn't expect to see you guys here at the palace. How lucky indeed.

Luke: What so lucky about that? Don’t go around causing any trouble.

Luke: No, actually, cause trouble if you want, but don't drag Emma and I into it.

Emma: Fufu, I guessed as much… I had a feeling I’d run into you and Clavis here.

(These two remain the same as ever, even in a foreign country.)

A lady dressed in beautiful dancers’ attire served us drinks.

It was a refreshing liquor made from fruits.

Clavis and Luke, despite being highly honoured guests of the country, were served the same drinks with no difference in treatment.

(For us mere merchants to be treated the same way as royalty…)

(It shows how important the stay permits granted by the living god are.)

(And how high is god’s status in this country.)

Clavis: By the way, Emma, I heard you met the living god. What was your first impression of them?

Clavis casually handed his glass of liquor to Luke and picked up a nearby water vessel.

(He had an aura that made me almost instinctively feel closer to him, but—)

Emma: He’s more benevolent and kind than I expected.

Clavis took a sip of water and chuckled.

Clavis: … Haha. I see, I see. So you’re the type of woman who’d easily fall into a con artist's trap.

Emma: Con artist?

Clavis: Oh, my apologies. But it surprised me. You’re the current “Belle” who’s supposedly adept at determining

Clavis: … No, rather, perhaps it was precisely because you “saw through him” that you had that impression of him?

Clavis: Hmm, how fascinating. I wonder which one of us is the one seeing an illusion.

(From the way Clavis says it, could the benevolent and kind living god have another side to him?)

???: Pardon my interruption, Clavis and Luke.

A cheerful voice joined the conversation, it belonged to a silver-haired man dressed luxuriously.

Clavis: Enis. Allow me to thank you once again for hosting such a splendid banquet.

Enis: Think nothing of it. It’s only natural to properly entertain guests from foreign countries.

Enis: More importantly, I don't think I’ve met the lady standing next to Akatsuki…

Scrambling to recall the etiquette lessons drilled into me during my time as Belle, I greeted him politely.

Clavis: This is Emma. She currently works as a merchant, but she was the former Belle of Rhodolite.

Enis: Oh…? That means she’s the woman with the most beautiful heart in Rhodolite, correct?

Clavis: Haha, you’re very knowledgeable.

Enis: I happen to enjoy reading history books from various countries.

The noble yet approachable man extended to me, who was only an ordinary merchant, his attitude remained unchanged.

The handshake conveyed his good-natured personality.

Enis: I’m the King of Tanzanite. However, please feel free to treat me casually. I’m not fond of formalities.

(This person is… the KING!?)

(Although not as young as the newly crowned King of Rhodolite, but he’s still rather youthful.

Enis: You’re guests of His Holiness the living god. Don’t hesitate to let me know if you encounter any troubles.

Emma: Thank you. I deeply appreciate your generosity.

I accepted his words with a smile, careful to conceal my surprise. My behaviour caused Enis to slightly widen his eyes in response.

Enis: I heard that Belle is chosen amongst commoners, but your conduct is impeccable. It’s hard to believe you’re not of noble descent.

Enis: You must’ve worked very hard to achieve this. Please, do relax and enjoy your time in Tanzanite.

Perhaps not wanting to intrude on our conversation any further, the King quickly walked away after giving us a few kind words.

Emma: … His Majesty seems like a kind person.

Luke: He’s exactly the type of person you should be wary of, Emma.

Clavis: I heard he has ten wives in his harem.

Emma: T-ten!?

Clavis: Some of them are from foreign countries too.

Luke: In other words…

Clavis and Luke placed a hand on each of my shoulders.

Clavis: This is where your bodyguards come in.

Luke: If anyone tries to make a move on you, I’ll knock their lights out on Rio’s behalf.

Akatsuki: I’ll kill them before that.

Emma: You guys are just overthinking, okay!?

(It’s not exactly unusual for kings to have multiple wives, but…)

I suddenly thought of the isolated castle in the desert.

The one that displayed no signs of being inhabited by anyone besides the living god.

(I wonder if… god has someone he loves.)

…

(... Huh?)

(It’s this place again…)

Azel: Good evening. I wanted to see you.

#ikemen prince #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #ikepri translations #ikepri azel #azel radwan #ikepri jp

25 notes · View notes

mystwrites · 9 months ago

Text

The Best Birthday

Summary: Atsushi has one of the best birthdays he could possibly have all thanks to one person

CW: Tickling (don’t like, don’t read)

A/N: Atsushi’s birthday is 5/5 and that’s today’s date for me. I decided to bless my followers with a birthday fic for everyone’s favorite detective!🎊

The daily Agency break in was put on hold. Akutagawa watched as the ADA celebrated. Why? Why were they having a party? Realizing they were crowding around Atsushi, it suddenly hit Akutagawa that they were celebrating his birthday.

“The weretiger’s birthday is today?” Akutagawa asked himself, rubbing his chin in deep thought. “Why hasn’t he told me…?”

That didn’t matter. What did matter was now figuring out how exactly to give the weretiger a good birthday surprise. Akutagawa knew he was horrible with words, oftentimes way too blunt or forwards in his actions. Bold and rash. However, he promised to give Atsushi the best birthday he could.

Akutagawa started by breaking into Atsushi’s dorm…again. It’s become a very regular occurrence. Atsushi hardly had an issue with it, slowly learning that it was just Akutagawa’s weird way of checking in on him after all that had gone down. Kyouka on the other hand didn’t like it and always promptly left to crash with the Tanizaki siblings should Akutagawa break in. Of course Akutagawa was somewhat glad she left each time. He liked being alone with Atsushi for the most part…until their arguments began.

When Atsushi had returned from work, Akutagawa greeted him with a slice of cake. Akutagawa hadn’t bought him an actual gift, unsure of what to purchase but assumed a cake would do. He still felt bad about not having an actual gift but Atsushi assured him that he didn’t need any gifts and the cake along with his presence was more than enough. Agreeing, Akutagawa agreed to spend the night with him.

Akutagawa didn’t know the type of cake he bought in all honesty. He just heard the cashier ask if he wanted a simple cake and said yes since he was taking too long to decide. Much to his surprise, Atsushi was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement. He must not have cared if it was fancy or simple and Akutagawa sighed with relief.

“Oooh!! This looks good!!” Atsushi squealed, happily taking the plate from Akutagawa. “Thank you!!”

“You’re welcome.” Akutagawa replied. “You’ll have a lot of leftovers so enjoy them.”

“I will!” Atsushi giggled, digging in.

As the two ate their slices of cake, Akutagawa remembered how on his birthday, the Port Mafia members all smashed cake in his face. While he at first wanted to kill a few of them, he remembered how much fun the cake fight was. However, he wasn’t about to start another fight with Atsushi or suddenly throw cake in his face. He might prefer a gentle touch rather than a handful of cake being slapped in his face.

With this in mind, Akutagawa stuck his finger into the frosting and suddenly dragged his finger across Atsushi’s left cheek, trying to hide his smirk as Atsushi gasped. Looking to his companion, Atsushi was met with Akutagawa’s poor attempt to hide his smirk and playfully narrowed his eyes.

“Akutagawa!” Atsushi exclaimed, giggling as Akutagawa dragged his finger covered in frosting across his cheek once more. “Hey! What are you doing? Stop!!”

“This is a birthday tradition, weretiger.” Akutagawa replied, wiping another bit of frosting onto Atsushi’s cheek. “You are lucky I’m not smashing the cake into your face.”

“I already got caked today at work! Wait!! Don’t waste the cake!! Hahahaa!! AKUTAGAWA!” Atsushi squealed, holding Akutagawa’s hand back while sticking his finger into the frosting of his own cake. “WAIT!”

“Nope. No waiting, weretiger!” Akutagawa snickered, wiggling his frosting covered finger. “I’m gonna get frosting all over your face!”

“No you will not!!” Atsushi growled, laughing as he tried to smear frosting onto Akutagawa’s nose, getting his neck instead.

Akutagawa recoiled and squeaked but attacked once more, successfully getting frosting on Atsushi’s forehead as well. Laughing, Atsushi tried to get frosting on Akutagawa’s face but fell over laughing when Akutagawa got too close. Seizing the opportunity, Akutagawa smeared three more lines of frosting on Atsushi’s right cheek and smirked, licking his finger.

“Now you look like a cat.~” he teased, Atsushi squawking with shock and getting more riled up.

“I’m a tiger! I’m not a cat!” Atsushi shouted, laughing as Akutagawa wiped frosting onto his nose. “Stop!! Hahaa!!”

Continuing his playful display of affection for the younger, Akutagawa leaned down and tried to get more frosting onto Atsushi’s face. With the weretiger squirming and giggling, getting frosting on him became more challenging.

“Hahaha!! Stop!” Atsushi shrieked, somehow managing to sit up and smear frosting on Akutagawa’s lower lip and chin. “Haha!! I gotcha!”

Licking the frosting off from his lip, Akutagawa chuckled. “It seems like you have.” he replied, a wicked smirk on his face. “But now you’ve done it, weretiger!”

Before Atsushi could ask what was happening, Akutagawa pushed him down and started tickling his sides. Atsushi screamed and burst into hysterics, flailing about as he got tickled, Akutagawa fully prepared to deal with the struggle.

They’ve tickled each other before. Akutagawa knew all of Atsushi’s most ticklish spots and skillfully knew how to press into his skin to bring out the best reactions. Eyeing out the weretiger’s torso, Akutagawa dropped his hands onto the weretiger’s torso, ten fingers digging into his tummy.

“Who’s got who now?~” Akutagawa asked, straddling Atsushi’s thighs and gently scribbling his fingers up and down Atsushi’s ribs. “I’ve gotcha now, weretiger.~”

“Ihihi…Ihihi’ll gehehet you bahahack!!” Atsushi snarled, screeching as Akutagawa wiped more frosting onto his face. “Hehehey!! AAHAHAHAAA!!”

“Now your face is covered with frosting!” Akutagawa noted, lifting Atsushi’s shirt up and tickling his bare skin. “What are you gonna do now, weretiger? Are you gonna get me back?~”

“Yehehes!!” Atsushi squeaked, snorting from how hard he was laughing. “Ihihi’ll get you ba-AAAAHAHAHAHAA!!”

“Well, I can’t have that happening.” Akutagawa said, slowly walking his fingers up to Atsushi’s highest ribs. “Promise to not smash cake in my face.~”

Cheekily, Atsushi shook his head and tried to grab his remaining piece of cake. Gasping, Akutagawa shoved his hands underneath Atsushi’s arms, bringing the detective’s hysterical laughter out and forcing his arms to press tightly against his sides.

“Wow! You must really like being tickled if you’re going to throw your cake at me.~” Akutagawa teased, feeling his cheeks warm up as Atsushi threw his head back and laughed even harder.

“Ihihi dohohon’t!!” Atsushi protested, trying to grab the cake once more. “Lehehet me gohoho!! I wahahanna eat my cake!!”

“Nope.~” Akutagawa growled, tickling down to Atsushi’s hips. “Not when I know you’ll throw that piece of cake at me.~”

Atsushi whined loudly but started to grow weaker by the second. Akutagawa normally used tickling as a playful way of subtly flirting with him or to get Atsushi to agree to whatever he wanted. The best part of tickling him was that Akutagawa realized Atsushi rarely had an issue with being tickled. It explained why he was egging Akutagawa on, constantly reaching out for his cake. Smirking, Akutagawa lifted up Atsushi’s shirt even more, resting his hands on Atsushi’s warm skin.

“Nonono!!” Atsushi cried, snorting in between his fits of giggles. “Nohohot thahat plehehease!!”

“Stop reaching for the cake.” Akutagawa said, his harsh gaze staring into Atsushi’s soul.

“N-nohoho!!” Atsushi protested, throwing his head back and howling as Akutagawa suddenly placed his lips against his bellybutton. “NO WAHAHAIT AHAHA! DOHON’T BLOW ON MY BEHEHELLY!”

Out of all the possible reactions, Akutagawa found that Atsushi screams and flails for a few seconds before going limp, laughing so hard he falls silent when raspberries are given. Akutagawa couldn’t help but enjoy the sound of Atsushi’s hysterical cackling and snorting and finally realized that he just enjoyed making his partner laugh.

A few more raspberries were blown, Atsushi squeaking, snorting and hiccuping. After the fourth raspberry, Akutagawa paused, seeing Atsushi’s eyes tearing up from how hard he laughed. He knew going past someone’s limit would make this experience unpleasant and stopped, pulling Atsushi’s shirt down and letting the younger curl up and protect himself.

“You okay, weretiger?” Akutagawa asked, Atsushi giggling and sitting up.

“Yeheheah.” he replied, his cheeks still really red. “Ihihi’m okay.”

“You seemed to have had fun.”

“Ihihi did.”

Akutagawa hummed in acknowledgement and leaned forwards with a napkin. He started to wipe Atsushi’s face, cleaning up any of the frosting that had once been there. Atsushi smiled, slightly confused as to what he was doing since it was very uncommon to have Akutagawa act so gentle, playful and caring with him. Before Atsushi could ask what was happening, Akutagawa tilted his head to the right, pressing his lips against Atsushi’s. The detective gasped in shock but relaxed, closing his eyes and kissing Akutagawa back.

“What was that for?” Atsushi asked, breathing heavily as they finally pulled away.

“That was your birthday gift.” Akutagawa whispered, his lips ghosting Atsushi’s once more. “Happy birthday, Atsushi. I hope this was your best birthday ever.”

They kissed again, Atsushi smiling more than he has in his entire life. He never expected Akutagawa of all people to make his birthday so special, but it was. This was indeed the best birthday he could ask for.

#tickle fic #tickle fluff #bungo stray dogs tickling #bsd tickling #lee!atsushi #ler!akutagawa #shin soukoku #sskk #akuatsu

62 notes · View notes

python333 · 1 year ago

Text

task force 141 reacting to [reader] having excessively watery eyes — python333

— — — —

synopsis just as the title says once again! tf141 and their reactions to [reader] having excessively watery eyes. if you want to get a bit more medical, the term for it would just be 'high tear drainage capacity'! it's basically just something some people have where they naturally just produce more tears and as a result their eyes water excessively at (as far as i know) random times!

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & reader.

characters cap. john price, soap, ghost, gaz.

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign], might be ooc. :{

note i was watching super 8 when i got this idea, because my eyes got watery all of a sudden while watching it and i was like 'omg i should post this on tumblr' because i'm a writing whore so here i am again. my fingers hurt from typing all the things in html to make the text small and shit but we still up!!

JOHN “BRAVO SIX” PRICE

➥ he thinks you’re crying at first.

➥ it’s not his fault! he had no idea your eyes just water up randomly.

➥ when he sees your eyes well up with tears, depending on how close y’all are, his fatherly instincts—which he, obviously, developed after meeting gaz—kick in immediately.

➥ “Are you okay, [c/n]?” “Why are you crying?” “Did something happen? What happened?” “... What do you mean?” “This is normal?”

➥ he’s kind of embarrassed for worrying so much after you reassure him that you were okay and that your eyes just excessively water, to be honest.

➥ he’s glad that you’re okay though, obviously.

➥ he never really gets used to seeing you tear up randomly? even though you told him it was normal?

➥ like he knows that 99% of the time you tear up it’s just because you do that, but he still likes to be sure that you’re okay, so he always makes sure to ask if you’re okay.

➥ he’s such!! a father!! i’m crying!! and it's not just my excessive eye watering!!

—

You both had just been hanging out in the recreation center, Price on the couch and you sitting on a chair right by that couch. You were scrolling through your phone, while Price was reading the newspaper—usual old man activities. While scrolling through your social media feed, you didn’t even notice the way tears started to well up in your eyes until your vision got blurry and you felt a small, wet trail of a single tear roll down your cheek.

You’d sighed and pulled a pocket-sized tissue pack out out your pocket, pulling out a tissue and dabbing at your eyes, ridding them of the tears. Of course, the tears didn’t just stop there, they kept coming, so you kept wiping and dabbing at your eyes, hoping that they would go away soon. This was a fairly regular occurrence— for you.

Price caught sight of this and immediately looked worried. He stared at you for a moment as you wiped your eyes, wondering if he should speak up, and eventually had tentatively asked, “Are you okay, [c/n]?”

You looked over at him and pulled the tissue away from your face for a moment, “Yeah, why?” Your voice didn’t sound strained or hoarse like Price had expected, seeing as you were practically crying.

“You’re crying,” Price had pointed out, pointing to your eyes as if you couldn’t notice it, “Did something happen?”

You sat there, a bit dumbfounded, and Price took your silence as hesitation to tell him what was going on. “You can tell me what’s going on, [c/n]. I won’t judge you,” He’d reassured you softly, setting down his book and putting all of his attention on you.

Oh God. “Nothing happened,” You’d quickly assured him, “This is normal, don’t worry about it.”

“... What do you mean, ‘this is normal’?” Price asked, now confused as well as concerned, “You cry often, mate?”

“I mean, kind of?” You had replied, before sighing and clarifying, “My eyes just water up a lot. It’s not really crying.”

“Oh,” Price said dumbly, before nodding and giving you one last concerned look, “Right, then. Uh… sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” You smiled at him, going back to dabbing at your eyes with a tissue, while he reluctantly went back to his book.

—

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

➥ can’t mind his own business for the life of him.

➥ similar to price, he thinks you’re crying at first.

➥ but he doesn’t hesitate at all, the moment he sees you tearing up he’s like ‘woah what the fuck are you okay??’

➥ you have to firmly tell him that yes, you’re okay, you just have very watery eyes.

➥ he still offers to get you tissues and some water, worried by the amount of tears you’re producing, thinking you’re gonna get really dehydrated.

➥ makes sure you’re completely okay and that you’re not just making this all up to hide the fact that you’re actually crying.

➥ after that whole interaction, he doesn’t get as worried when your eyes randomly water up, and instead teases you about it.

➥ learns to know when you’re actually crying, just so that he can offer comfort when it’s appropriate, and tease you when it’s appropriate.

—

The two of you were hanging out in Ghost’s room, since his was cleaner than the both of your’s combined, and he was away on a mission. Soap laid down on Ghost’s bed while you were sitting on the edge of the same bed, the sheets and blankets wrinkled from you both moving around on the bed. Soap was scrolling through his phone while you sat opposite of him and read a book Price had recommended to you—in his usual old man pseudo-father fashion, he’d told you to spend less time on your phone and ‘read a damn book’—so you were doing just that.

It was when you’d just reached chapter six when your vision got blurry and you sighed, knowing what was happening already. It was just annoying, honestly, having to pull out your tissues every ten minutes because your stupid tear ducts couldn’t function properly. When you went to pull out the mini tissue pack you always carried with you—or so you thought—you were surprised to find that the familiar plastic rectangle of tissues were nowhere to be found in your pockets. You checked your back pockets, front pockets, and yet they weren’t in either.

You let out a small, frustrated sigh through your nose and got up from the bed, the movement making Soap look up and over at you.

“Hey, where are ye—blimey, are ye cryin’?” Soap questioned, his questioning tone quickly becoming concerned, “Are ye alright? It wasnae the book that made ye cry, aye?”

You looked back at Soap, sighing, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt, “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t even worry about it, it’s normal, I just need to go get some tissues.”

“What dae ye mean this is normal?” Soap asked, sitting up. I just want to grab tissues, man, You think, miserably before short explanation that yes, you’re okay, no, you’re not crying, your eyes are just watery—basically the same answer you give every who eventually asks about your little ‘quirk’.

“Ye sure ye’re alright?” Soap asked, just making sure you’re actually okay, “Ye’re definitely no’ crying?”

“Definitely not crying,” You confirmed, “Just watery eyes.”

“Alright, then,” Soap breathed out, relieved that you were okay, before getting up and asking, “Dae ye need some tissues, water, anythin’?”

“Just tissues,” You answered, walking towards the door, “I can get them—”

“Nah, nah, ye stay richt there!” Soap quickly said, somehow getting to the door before you despite him having been right in front of the bed moments earlier, “I’ll get it!”

You watched him run out the door at a speed comparable to the usain bolt and stayed there for a moment, just staring at the now opened door, before huffing out a small laugh and heading back to the bed and sitting down.

—

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

➥ he doesn’t notice until you’re wiping at your eyes and huffing in frustration when tears keep coming.

➥ the first time it happened, he didn’t ask if you were alright verbally, but did shoulder nudge you and gave you a look that asks ‘are you okay?’

➥ when you nodded and continued wiping at your eyes, ghost gave you one last look before trusting that you were okay and continuing on with his day.

➥ he pretended he didn’t care but thought about it for a bit afterwards, especially if you guys are really close.

➥ he asked price if you tearing up is just a normal thing or if you were actually crying, and let himself relax when he was told that yes, your eyes just water up randomly.

➥ he’s naturally a very observant person and will be able to tell when you’re actually crying fairly quickly.

➥ he’ll still look you over to make sure you’re okay, of course, just to double check, but once he’s confirmed that your eyes are just getting watery again he’ll let himself relax.

➥ depending on how close you both are, he’ll carry around a pack of tissues for you.

—

You and Ghost were in a helicopter, another mission successful. It wasn’t the worst one you’d had—but it was far from easy to accomplish. You were reasonably tired after this mission, all the leftover adrenaline wearing off, making you slump a bit in your seat.

You were just about to close your eyes to rest them, when suddenly you realized how blurry your vision had gotten. You were confused for a moment before realizing—oh, right, that happens.

You sighed, knowing you didn’t bring your usual pack of tissues with you, thinking it would just take up useless space in the pockets of your tactical gear. You wiped your eyes with the gloves you’d been wearing, albeit they weren’t the best option but the sleeves of your shirt were far too short for you to use, the hem of your shirt was dirty, and while your gloves were dirty as well, the back of them weren’t nearly as filthy as the hem of your shirt.

As you wiped away with the back of your glove, Ghost noticed your watery eyes and nudged your shoulder with his own. You paused and pulled your hand away from your eye, giving him a questioning look. He didn’t say anything, but instead gave you a questioning look back, a look you assumed to be one that asked, ‘are you okay?’, judging by the way his eyes darted to your own very watery ones. You nodded, mouthing the words ‘I’m okay’, and he nodded back, going back to staring ahead of him.

Hours after you had gotten off the helicopter, you were walking by Price’s office, and couldn’t help but hear Ghost’s voice. Being the nosy person you are, you cautiously pressed your ear to the door.

“—don’t worry, it’s normal,” You heard Price reassuring Ghost, “I doubt they’d cry after a mission like that, anyway.”

“And they’ve told you it’s normal?” Ghost asked, just to confirm, “You know this for a fact?”

You didn’t stay long enough to hear the rest of the conversation, instead walking away and suppressing a smile at Ghost’s mildly worried tone.

—

KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK

➥ he notices pretty quickly.

➥ no matter how many times he’s caught you tearing up, he’ll still ask you if you’re okay.

➥ he makes sure to bring a clean handkerchief with him, just incase you forget your tissues.

➥ he’ll even bring it with him on missions, knowing you don’t want to bring your small pack of tissues with you.

➥ the first time he catches your eyes watering up, he gets pretty worried.

➥ he makes sure not to make a big deal out of it though, trying to be as considerate as possible, and instead quietly asks you if you’re okay.

➥ when you reassure him that you are and tell him your eyes are just naturally watery, he’s pretty relieved, and lets it go.

➥ he trusts that you told him the truth, and doesn’t question you again after that.

➥ around the fifth time it’d happened, he’d grown pretty used to it, so when you started tearing up walking back to the rendezvous point with him after a mission, he had a handkerchief ready for you.

—

You panted while you walked, trying to get your breathing under control. You’d done a lot of running today—while you were pretty fit, and could run perfectly fine, you didn’t particularly like running as fast as you can away from enemy soldiers while your teammates shot them down, leaving you praying that the bullets that tailed your feet didn’t hit you.

Eventually, you got your breath under control, but immediately afterwards, your eyes had started to water.

You sighed and were about to wipe at your eyes with your hands, before your hand was stopped mid air. You looked over at Gaz, who had caught your hand by the wrist and offered you a handkerchief with his free hand.

The handkerchief was fairly clean, and you grabbed it, muttering a small ‘thank you’ as you did. Gaz smiled at you and gave you a simple pat on the shoulder.

Once the two of you reached the rendezvous point, you handed him back the handkerchief, hoping that your grateful smile was enough to express your full gratitude.

390 notes · View notes

chlobliviate · 6 months ago

Text

Wolfstar Microfic - Faster

Words: 839

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

Remus would forever be grateful to Sirius for spotting the moon, dragging him back into the shrieking shack, kissing his temple and locking the door before he could transform. Even with the wolfsbane, he wouldn’t wish it on Harry and his friends to witness the transformation.

Even with Remus' mind, the wolf was restless. He could smell Sirius and Peter. Peter. He knew Hermione had hit him with incarcerous, but worried all night about whether they’d finally got him.

After he turned back, groggy and exhausted, but uninjured, the door swung open. He swallowed the disappointment at not Sirius standing there, but Dumbledore.

“Good Morning!” He said jovially as if the events of last night were a regular occurrence. “How are you feeling?”

Remus frowned, “Albus, tell me—”

“I’ll get to that, Remus. How are you feeling? Was the potion adequate?”

“Yes, thank you.” He muttered, “I didn’t sleep much, but I’m fine.”

“Glad to hear it!” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “Mr Potter, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger are all safe and unharmed, other than Mr Weasley’s leg which is already on the mend. Severus is… his usual self.” Remus snorted, “He has made a point to inform the ministry of your condition, which will no doubt filter down to parents and students in due course. I want to make myself absolutely clear, Remus, that you belong here. No complaints from parents or questions from the wizengamot will change that. I hope that you will stay.”

Remus stared at the wall, everyone would know. Surely parents would withdraw their children, and send them to Beauxbatons where they weren’t being taught by a monster. Of course, he couldn’t stay.

Dumbledore interrupted his train of thought, “The students respond to you and they enjoy your lessons. You would be doing yourself and them a disservice if you let this change things. Just, think about it.” He nodded, “Onto more serious matters.”

“Is he…”

“Aurors came to collect Mr Pettigrew in the early hours of the morning. He is awaiting trial now.”

“So he gets a trial? Not just thrown in Azkaban, no questions asked?” Remus snarled. “He spent twelve years in there, Albus.”

“I’m well aware,” Dumbledore Held up a hand, “He will be given a full pardon. He’s in the hospital wing currently being fussed over by Poppy.”

“He’s not… they didn’t take him back?” Remus blinked at him.

“No, Remus. He’s a free man.”

Remus didn’t care if he was being rude. All he could think of was Sirius, and he ran from the shack, through the tunnel and out of the Whomping Willow, not caring if anyone saw him exit. He ran faster than he ever had and when he came skidding to a halt in the hospital wing, a small sea of curious faces greeted him.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were gathered around Sirius’ bed while Madam Pomfrey hovered. Sirius sat cross-legged on top of the sheets, chatting animatedly to Harry, wearing clean robes, with his hair tied back and, wow, he didn’t know that Poppy could work miracles, but apparently she could.

Sirius instantly leapt from the bed to the protests of Harry and Hermione and threw his arms around Remus.

“You’re alright.” Remus whispered, “I’ve got you.”

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

“I am pleased to introduce you to our new Astronomy professor, Professor Sirius Black.” Dumbledore smiled over at him.

Sirius got to his feet and bowed slightly, smiling at the cheers coming from the Gryffindor table. As he sat back down, Remus’ hand returned to his thigh and he linked their little fingers together.

Remus, after much debate with Sirius and Harry, had agreed to stay on at Hogwarts. When Dumbledore offered Sirius the Astronomy position he’d pinched himself several times because being back at Hogwarts with Sirius seemed too good to be true. Dumbledore had written to them a week after term had ended to ask if they’d like separate quarters, or to share, and that had shattered the levy that had been holding back everything they hadn’t said since they were teenagers. Choked ‘I love you’s, angry ‘I missed you’s and serene promises. Forevers.

Travelling on the Hogwarts Express with Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville was delightful. Much better than it had been for Remus the previous year, not a dementor in sight. Sirius slung his arm across the back of the seats and Remus leaned into his shoulder. He noticed Hermione shoot Ron an ‘I told you so’ look, but that was all. They’d told Harry over the summer when he’d finally come to live with them at Grimmauld Place and he was thrilled for them, Lily and James’ son through and through. They’d absolutely gutted the house, slashing the portrait of Walburga until the ribbons of canvas were finally silent. All the silver adornments changed to gold, and heavy, dusty curtains were thrown away to let the light in.

It would only be their home for a few months a year for the foreseeable future, but it was their home. Better late than never.

#fanfic #wolfstar #ao3 #fanfiction #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #marauders #wolfstar microfic #remus loves sirius #sirius loves remus #fix it fic

47 notes · View notes

bvckleyydiaz · 2 years ago

Text

so, in honor of father’s day, here is a scenario of aaron finding out that you’re pregnant!

content warning: pregnancy and mention of food

So, you and Aaron have been together for a while at this point. You had brought up the topic to him about having a child together, and you both decided that while you were in a good place to have another kid, it would not disappoint either of you if it did not work out. It becomes a regular occurrence for you to not use protection when you have sex. You also talk to your doctor about stopping your birth control. You were prepared to get pregnant, but you also knew that it may take a while for it to actually happen.

You found that you’re pregnant a week before Father’s Day. It was supposed to be a routine physical at your doctor’s office, and you knew that part of the physical is a pregnancy test. Yes, you and Aaron had stopped using protection, but it did not cross your mind that you could be pregnant. You hate to admit that you are a little surprised when the doctor comes back and informs you that you are, in fact, pregnant. The doctor recommends all the vitamins you should take and the foods you should avoid during the first trimester, and she tells you to come back in about six weeks.

Now, you are going to have some fun telling Aaron that you’re pregnant. What better way to do that than to get Jack involved? You find him a shirt that has I’m Being Promoted to Big Brother written on it. You tell Jack that this is a big surprise for his dad, and he can’t spoil the surprise before Father’s Day.

The big day rolls around sooner than you expect it to. Jack is in his shirt, and the two of you treat Aaron to his favorite breakfast: strawberry French toast, bacon, and orange juice. The two of you go upstairs to the bedroom you share with Aaron with his breakfast tray. Unable to hold in his excitement any longer, Jack bursts into the room with the cutest, brightest grin on his face.

“Daddy, Daddy, wake up!” He shouts as he flings himself on top of Aaron. “It’s Father’s Day, Daddy!”

With a grin rivalling his little boy’s, Aaron holds Jack close to him. “It is, buddy. Thank you.”

He points to you holding the tray with his breakfast. “Y/N and I made you breakfast.” Aaron peeks at the contents of the tray, and his grin somehow gets wider.

“Strawberry French toast and bacon?” he asks. “That’s—”

“Your favorite,” you tell him. “That’s why we made it.”

Jack nods. “And Y/N got me a cool shirt! But she said that I couldn’t wear it until today.”

“Let me see it, buddy,” Aaron tells him, and Jack scoots back to let his dad read the shirt. “I’m being promoted to—” He looks up at you with so much love and adoration it almost makes you sob, “Big brother? You’re pregnant?”

You nod. “I went to the doctor last week for a physical, and they told me that I was about seven weeks.” You step forward and set the tray on his lap. “Happy Father’s Day, Daddy.”

He cups your face and kisses you so eagerly and so gently. “I love you.”

You lean up and kiss his head. “I love you, too.”

(Nine months later, when your little girl is born, Aaron is overjoyed. You’re laying in your hospital bed, and you watch Aaron hold your daughter with so much care. He looks at her like she is his whole world.

“Hi, sweet girl,” you hear him whisper to the sleeping newborn. “I’m so glad you’re here. Daddy loves you so much, and he’s going to make sure that he tells you every day.”)

tagging: @greg-montgomery @ssamorganhotchner @ssahotchnerr @moonlightspencie @montyfandomlove @ihavemanyhusbands @ssaspencerreidswife @criminalskies @strawbeerossi @mrs-ssa-hotch @hotchs-big-hands @hotchstanaccount @hotchs-babygirl @hotchsdoormat @hotchsdharma @spenciesprincess @hotchnerobsessed @hotchnerbau @spacecowboyhotch @darlingsfandom @luvehotch @canuck-eh @marvelsmistress @thenerdthatwrites @evansflowers

#e posts #e writes #e tags #e’s scenarios #e’s moots #aaron hotchner

238 notes · View notes

misc-obeyme · 1 year ago

Note

Hii! I hope you're having a great day/night!

I absolutely loved your barbatos prompt for flufftober, seeing how much he works and how he doesn't seem to relax ever, I just feel the URGE to take care of him 😀😀😀

Caressing his hair until he sleeps, giving him a skin care, (Give him a mind-blowing orgasm by sucking him off on his room until he finally relax and then directing him the most loyal and lovestruck gaze he would ever receive, but that's an idea for another time 🤭🤭) doting on him in general

So, can I please ask for a (drabble, fic, imagine, anything you feel like) where MC make barb sit still and proceeds to massage his back, kneading on his knots until he relutanctly turns into mush?

Hi there, anon! I'm having a good night, I hope you are as well!

I'm so glad you liked the Barbatos Flufftober prompt! I have that exact same urge, like just sit down and let me do things for once! Ugh I love him lol.

And when I tell you that I was so close to having MC give him a massage... But I also really wanted him to soak his feet 'cause I felt like he probably stands on them all day and I don't care if he's an ancient powerful demon that has to take it's toll!

Anyway, my full requests are closed but I can write you a short little something! In case it wasn't already painfully obvious, I love Barbatos and I love writing about MC taking care of him lol.

GN!MC x Barbatos

Warnings: none!

Barbatos was sitting on the edge of his bed. His uniform jacket was already folded neatly beside him, but it had been a struggle for you to get him to take it off at all.

You sat behind him now, your hands on his shoulders, methodically pressing your fingers into his stiff muscles.

Barbatos's body was tense, but you were determined to get him to relax, even if just a little bit. You concentrated on his neck and shoulders for a while, kneading carefully, working out the knots that you could feel beneath your touch.

As you did this, you felt Barbatos release some of that tension he was holding. He made a low noise in his throat, as though he was trying not to relax, as though he was trying to keep himself from showing just how tired he really was.

"I don't understand why you're so stubborn about this," you said softly, your hands pressing into him, causing his body to rock slightly against you. "You work so hard for everyone all the time. Why can't you let me do things for you every once in a while?"

Barbatos sighed and you were thrilled to see the way his body sagged a little as he did so. "Forgive me, MC," he said. His voice was low and full of something uncertain. "It is simply that a good butler never shows his fatigue."

You snorted. "Okay, first of all, you're the best butler of any butler that ever butled."

Barbatos chuckled and you were pleased to see the little blush that painted the tips of his ears.

"And second of all, you don't have to be a butler right now," you went on. "Right now, you can just be Barbatos. You can let go with me."

Barbatos was quiet. You weren't sure if he didn't know what to say or if he simply disagreed with you.

You didn't press him, only pushed your thumbs into a particularly difficult knot in his back. After a few moments, you felt the knot begin to release as you circled it carefully, working the tension out of it.

This caused Barbatos to sigh again and this time, he allowed himself to sink into you. His shoulders descended and he actually leaned into your touch, his head drooping just a little.

You leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the nape of his neck. "See? You're feeling better, right? Now you can be at your best when you get back to butlering tomorrow."

Barbatos chuckled again. "I see that you are correct in this, MC. You have my thanks."

You puffed out your chest in triumph. Perhaps now this could become a regular occurrence. You were nothing if not persistent. And hopefully Barbatos would continue to give in and allow you to care for him the way he cared for so many others.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#just let us pamper you #that is all we want #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me fluff #obey me barbatos #om barbatos #barbatos obey me #obey me barbatos x reader #om barbatos x reader #barbatos obey me x reader #anon asks #misc answers #misc writes

80 notes · View notes

thousand-winters · 1 year ago

Note

We know that Darius mainly ignored Hunter and Eber would growl at him but how do you think the other coven heads treated him? Not good obviously but in what way?

I'M SO GLAD YOU ASK. I've had my eye on those little shits for a while /lh

So first of all, I just know Hettie and Osran were the nastiest ones. How? Have you ever noticed they're the ones that shove/elbow/something Hunter at the beginning of Any Sport in a Storm? That was so damn uncalled for, it's not like Hunter was physically trying to stop them from leaving, and it haunts me a little bit that he did his little pained sounds but didn't even call them out on it, feels like a regular occurrence.

I feel like for Osran it was probably a case of him being really old and as such, dismissing Hunter as a dumb kid who doesn't know what he's doing, even more than the others. Like... he's been here since quite possibly the establishment of the Empire, he's NOT going to listen to a spoiled brat, and he has no patience left for anyone when he's well settled in his rank by now. There might also be some resentment about having spent so many years in service of the Empire and yet being told he has to listen to this random kid? Emperor's nephew or not, he can't be bothered to care.

Hettie, interestingly enough, seemed pretty neutral even while pushing Hunter, she didn't have her sadistic little smile from King's Tide, though I do believe it has to do with her ruthlessness that she doesn't give a crap if she hurts this kid. I think it would be sort of interesting if with her it's a mix of, well, that she's just like That, not caring about inflicting pain in others, and that he's annoyed with Hunter in particular due to her pride. She's the Head Healer and yet Hunter has never once gone to her, not that she would have been gentle with him but it feels as if he were saying he's better than her.

In any case, I feel like those two were the type to push and trip Hunter whenever they had the chance, never going as far to beat him up or anything but still getting physical a bout it.

Now Terra and Adrian were probably the ones who liked mocking him verbally the most, perhaps Adrian a little more. In the same scene in Any Sport in a Storm, his eyes follow Hunter even as he continues smiling and walking away, which is... definitely something. Having some fun seeing him trying to get their attention, I guess.

Honestly, from Adrian it's not so surprising, since he seems to find anyone but himself incompetent, and he has no regard toward children at all, I think he liked making mocking comments whenever he had the chance to put Hunter down. Terra, on the other hand, has that fake sweetness of hers that ends up being condescending, so I feel like with Hunter she probably was like "awww, what a poor, pathetic little thing (:", which of course Hunter would have picked up on no matter how deceivingly nice the words could be.

I would think Vitimir would be more the subtle type, rolling his eyes at Hunter from time to time and such, but considering he also stubbornly tried to stay at the throne during Watching and Dreaming, I'm not really counting on him being smart. Perhaps I would bet on him just making some slight annoyed sounds and faces at him most of the time and indulging in pushing him around as well when he feels like it.

Mason voted most likely Coven Head to be nice other than the rebels. He has the vibe of "I have no idea what's going on, I'm just going with the flow" to me most of the time, frankly, but he had to notice what the others did. I tend to imagine him as noticing that, but not caring enough to ever try to stop it, very "not my business" kind of behavior which, you know, isn't great, but the bar is in hell when it comes to the Emperor's Coven 😭

#you pressed my 'many thoughts about characters that appear like five seconds' button #i hope you're pleased with this sakfhkdsg #the owl house #toh #hunter deamonne #hettie cutburn #adrian graye #terra snapdragon #toh mason #toh osran

59 notes · View notes

jamisonwritestf2trash · 1 year ago

Note

Hello!

New to the fandom and your posts have been lovely to read! I don't know if it's been done already, but, may I request the TF2 mercs' reactions to having a nightmare? Like, frequency, how they cope with them, how they handle them when they happen?

The TF2 Mercs Reactions to A Nightmare!

————————————————————

Anon, you are making me sob. Welcome to the fandom. You'll never be able to leave. But I haven't done this prompt before, so I'm glad to do it now! Uh, angsty as hell and a small spydad mention.

————————————————————

Demo wakes up drenched in sweat. He's had nightmares before, but he doesn't really dream. Dreams are a rarity. Nightmares aren't too common either happening, maybe twice a month. He hasn't found a way to handle them. Drinking booze like water helps temporarily, but so does going back to sleep because if he falls back asleep, then he doesn't have to reflect on what his nightmares might mean. He'll probably end up staring at the wall for a while before going back to sleep. Hoping his brain will forget it by morning. It doesn't. He doesn't know how to cope.

————————————————————

Engie is just tired. He usually buries himself in work so he doesn't have to sleep. Nightmares are a regular occurrence. He doesn't know when they started, or even what they're about half the time. He wakes up with a deep feeling of dread and fear, but he doesn't know why. He can't remember them, so it's weird they have such a hold on him. He'll normally just get up and start his day at that point regardless of its 2am or 7am, trying to distract himself in any way he can. He uses work to cope, tinkering away at some new projects he pulled out of thin air.

————————————————————

Heavy just sighs, rolling over to go back to sleep. He has nightmares very rarely, and none are particularly scary, mainly sad. Occasionally, he'll cry if the nightmare is about something that's too real to him. He doesn't feel the need to react, to cope, to do anything other than let the haze of sleep overtake him again. He likes to think he forgets about the pain his nightmares cause him, but memories of them creep in during the day sometimes. He does check in the mornings that everything is okay and everyone is alright as a sort of coping mechanism.

————————————————————

Medic wakes up crying, well, sobbing. He puts up a good front during the day. Not letting the mix of past traumas and present traumatizing events get to him while he works. But oh boy, is this man riddle with nightmares. He almost thinks it's a punishment of some kind. He can't remember the last time he slept soundly. He'll spring out of bed, wiping the tears from his face and grabbing his glasses, much like Engie he's ready to just start the day, but he hears soft cooing and the flap of wings. Archimedes lands softly on his shoulder, demanding affection from him and immediately distracting him from whatever spiral he's currently in, and sits with him until Medic is subtly convinced by the birds insistence of moving him to the bed to go back to sleep. Always staying in his line of sight while the ex doctor sleeps, making sure his friend is okay

————————————————————

Scout is terrified. Like petrified in fear. He won't move from his bed. He doesn't have nightmares too often, but when he does, they hit him like a train. He just wants to sleep and not be plauged by bad thoughts. He tried to reassure himself that it's all just a dream, all in his head, and most of the time, it works. When it doesn't, however, he thinks about how his mom used to comfort him when he was younger, or just thinking of his mom or his childhood in general, it gives him a safe feeling. He might even find himself calling his mom after just to make sure she's okay.

————————————————————

Snipers eyes open with a sigh as he stares at the ceiling. He's pissed. He's always tired because of this shit. Nightmares are a common occurrence, not as common as Medic's, but still frequent enough to interfere with his sleep schedule. They're stressed induced, and he can't ever find a way to stop them. He's tried drinking, smoking, he even asked Medic for advice, only to be told that, "If I had a cure, everyone would know about it by now." So he just lays there in hatred for his brain, a brain that cursed him with horrible dreams. Sometimes, though, if you catch him on one of his better days, he'll open up just enough for someone to maybe offer up some advice.

————————————————————

Spy only lets a few tears out as he drapes a hand over his face to cover his eyes. His nightmares are more like regret filled dreams, he has them quite a bit, the frequency increasing after Scout joined the other mercs. He lets himself feel sad for only a few seconds before a guilt washes over him, making him feel as if he has no right to feel upset. He might light a cigarette cope. Smoking is the least likely thing to help, but hey, it's an excuse to go outside. He'll never address any of the guilt, shame, or fear feels from his nightmares. He just buries it. Never learning to cope and never feeling like he deserves it.

————————————————————

Soldier is used to it. Nothing really phases him anymore. Not the real world, not the nightmares, nothing. He just goes back to sleep, silently hoping that he doesn't slip back into the nightmares, but he does. He has them at the same frequency as Medic, but is granted no support. He does find comfort once when he finally opens up about them to Medic. Medic and him discussing nightmares between the both of them. He's not one to do this often, though, finding that he doesn't need to cope as long as he pushes down the reoccurring thoughts of his nightmares. He's sure he'll be just fine.

————————————————————

Pyro is hyperventilating, crying, and just a mess. They don't have nightmares often at all, maybe once a year, their mind always being able to protect them from it somehow, but when the nightmare comes its bad. Enough to probably actually traumatize Pyro on some level. Crying helps them in the moment, being a way for them to let their emotions out quickly, but after that, they need comfort, turning to whatever friends (mostly Medic or Engie) who could help them. Both are more than happy to comfort Pyro in their time of need, helping them forget about the dream until next time.

————————————————————

Hot take! These fuckers cry, a lot. Men can cry and still be strong and manly, especially traumatized men. I want to give them hugs :,) I hope this makes sense and follows the prompt bc i am so tired rn, but i had to get this out 😭Anyways, I hope you like this Anon! And again, welcome to the fandom. Enjoy your new life >:D

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 headcanons #team fortress headcanons #tf2 hcs #tf2 demoman #tf2 engineer #tf2 heavy #tf2 medic #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro

95 notes · View notes

skzoologist · 1 year ago

Text

Bumping into a fan in public

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none

genre: fluff

a/n: Here you go anon deary, the first of your asks now done at last 😄Hope you like it, since I felt like these two boys didn't get enough content on my blog. And as always, feel free to drop by anytime if an idea is tickling your mind, I'll get to it eventually!

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It was another day of work and practice, something that only seemed hellish from an outsider’s perspective. Idols were more than used to it, the industry and their own pride demanding it endlessly. Bae had no problem with it, only when those he cared for overworked themselves and stepped over a line they shouldn’t have.

That was why he’d been glad that day, his schedule overlapping with the others frequently, granting him the best opportunity to silently observe and care for them. This meant passing their towels and water bottles over to the members in each small break during dance practice, helping them execute a particularly tricky move, or just silently letting them cling to him when they had the chance. A comeback was breathing down their necks, the stress in the air basically palpable.

The perfect excuse for being lenient with the members and their shenanigans, caring for them silently.

Bae was watching Jeongin through the glass silently, his hands already working on mixing the sweet honey into some warm tea. Seungmin’d been enjoying the taste of his by then, only a few sips remaining in his mug as he was scrolling on his phone with an indifferent face.

The oldest member in the room’d been the first to have his singing practice, leaving Seungmin and Jeongin to have theirs later, providing their hyung ample time to get his hands on some tea and brew it up for the two. It wasn’t hard to do, since he kept some filters stashed away in the room for this exact occasion, being a regular there and all.

A little snort broke him out of his mindless stirring and staring ahead, a lit up phone entering his line of vision. It was a tiktok video, the edited face of his menace of a hyung greeting Bae back. He couldn’t help the quiet, strangled sound that left his throat, somewhere between a giggle and a cough. Nobody blamed him for it though, and certainly not Seungmin, the two quietly cackling at the short compilation.

The quiet giggles continued with every video, the two sitting next to each other, the younger letting all his weight fall onto the older.

It was peaceful, something rare amidst these chaotic days.

The door opened and both boys turned their heads towards the sound, watching their precious maknae exit the room and talk with their teacher. They only exchanged a few sentences, the young one soon joining them on the couch. Bae didn’t hesitate to gently push the still warm mug into his hands, gently smiling when he got a quiet thanks in return.

Bae went up to their teacher next, exchanging some quiet words and making plans for their next practice session. It was both a necessary and the most comfortable solution, since he could just convey the now modified plans to the young ones and let them take a small break at the same time.

Once he was done, he politely said goodbye to all the staff members, earning cheerful smiles and waves in return. He looked at the two on the couch, sat close to each other, probably watching a video from the same phone, not an unusual occurrence. The mugs were now empty and set to the side carefully, so no one would accidentally sit on them or push them onto the floor.

Just as Bae was about to go and get the mugs, fully intending to clean them, one of the staff members -a kind, middle aged lady, always willing to help- grabbed them and winked at him playfully. He froze in his spot, in disbelief, but soon he shook his head gently with a small smile dancing on his lips.

“Ready?” - his voice was quiet, yet the two young ones immediately heard it and looked up at him with a nod.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the bottom floor of the company, having made plans to eat an early dinner together at a nearby restaurant. A pleasant conversation was freely flowing between them, ranging from their just finished singing practice to movies they all enjoyed. Bae mostly watched the two in silence, only nodding and humming from behind the layers of his scarf and mask.

He always enjoyed watching them animatedly talk about something they liked, a bright light shining in their eyes captivatingly. Even when the topic of the conversation eluded him, as if he was trying to catch water with his bare hands, that fond look never escaped his face.

“Hey, Dal hyung, you wanna come over and watch some marvel movies with me and Felix hyung?” - Jeongin asked and Bae knew he could never say no to those puppy eyes.

Seungmin merely snickered behind his hand -even though his mask muffled the sound already-, amused by the quick nod his hyung gave their maknae. The older playfully glared at the puppy, both knowing that the whole dorm would join in on the movie marathon anyway, if not the whole band, regardless of their own nightly plans and wishes. Nobody could say no to Jeongin, especially when he teamed up with Felix, creating an impossible challenge filled with puppy eyes and pouty lips.

While Jeongin celebrated his victory animatedly, Bae ruffled Seungmin’s hair, earning a whine from the boy. The older’s hand was batted away, but he could tell Seungmin was just pretending to be annoyed by the lightness of his expression, eyes still as bright as ever.

Just when the small restaurant came into view -it was slightly hidden away in a narrow street, its brightly lit sign the only indication of its existence-, a meek little voice stopped them in their tracks.

Turning around, the three were met with a younger girl, form petite and small as she was anxiously fiddling with her sleeve covered hands. There was a faint dusting of pink on her cheeks, either from the chilly autumn wind, or her nervousness.

Even though he doubted there was a problem or danger, Bae still unconsciously stepped lightly before Seungmin and Jeongin, his voice soft as he prompted the girl to speak up.

“I- I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m a huge fan and, uh, I was wonderingifIcouldaskforapicture?” - her words were rushed together at the end, making it hard to understand them.

The three looked at the overly nervous girl, afraid she would worry herself sick at this rate. With a quick, shared glance, Bae stepped forward just a bit, careful not to startle her with their huge height difference.

“Sure, who did you have in mind?” - he asked as if he was talking to a startled animal, thankful that her shoulders slightly slumped down at that. “Ah, uhm, all three of you? If that wouldn’t burden you too much, of course! You’re my bias, Oppa, while Jeongin and Seungmin oppa are my bias wreckers!” - she replied, the faint colour now prominent on her faint skin.

Bae could only blink down at her with slightly widened eyes, a bit caught off-guard for a single second before he tamed his emotions and leveled his face. If he let his skin flush even a bit and showed how flustered he was, he knew his younger members would not let him live it down for at least a day or two.

Looking away from their excited fan, Jeongin and Seungmin nodded back at Bae, their eyes now crescent shaped. They all loved to meet with their fans, always glad to interact with them and take selfies with or give them an autograph. Usually those who approached them on the streets were kind and respectful, like this fan, making the experience all the more pleasant.

The four huddled together more, the petite STAY in the front, while the idols were behind her, with Bae in the middle. He was the tallest, so he was the one who took her phone and held it up, his height granting him the advantage for the perfect angle. Jeongin poked his dimples, Seungmin showed a V-sign, while Bae put up bunny ears for the puppy at the last second. His side was poked in annoyance, as subtle as Seungmin could be with the fan still in front of them.

Holding back a flinch, Bae lowered the phone and handed it back to the little STAY, watching with delight as her whole face lit up and she lightly jumped in place a few times. Catching herself, she pocketed the phone as if it was the most precious thing in her possession and bowed at them deeply, wishing them a good day and thanking them once again. The boys thanked her for her support, truly honoured to be her favourites, and waved at her leaving form.

“Did you really have to do that, Hyung?” - Seungmin’s annoyed voice could be heard, prompting Bae to step behind Jeongin and away from approaching hands.

Bae merely nodded, an unseen smile widening on his lips. Seungmin huffed, trying to circle around their confused baby bread to get to his hyung, yet to no avail.

‘Wait, what happened? Can you–” - Jeongin’s question was cut in half, the two around him too fast to follow. “Hyung, stop running away!” “Don’t want to.” “Then at least stop running around me and dragging me with you as if I’m your doll!” - Jeongin whined out desperately, having had enough of the two’s shenanigans.

Needless to say, Bae paid for the entire meal and carried the rightfully angry maknae back to their dorms. It was the only way to placate Jeongin, the ache in his muscles stronger than his dislike towards skinship.

#your other requests kinda bled through into this one ngl #hope you dont mind!#🐿️ anon #at least i think #request #stray kids #skz #stray kids oc #skz oc #stray kids 9th member #skz 9th member #glacial prince #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #also depression has been kicking my ass and i dunno if i can do what i've been planning for this blog

52 notes · View notes

gunilslaugh · 2 years ago

Note

I love your blog so much! Thank you so much for making my days better. Seriously I get so happy whenever I see a notification from your blog!

Can I request Xdinary Heroes' reaction to you giving them your scarf/gloves/beanie and putting it on them because they seem to be cold when you're on a late night walk during winter? And can it be as fluffy as possible? 🥺

Also is it okay to put more than one idea in your inbox? Of course in different asks! ❤️

Yes, it's more than ok to put more than one idea in my inbox. I'm so glad to able make your days better! Here's your request please enjoy!

All members _• ^ •_

Summary: You’re on a late night walk with Xdinary Heroes member and you notice they seem like they’re cold.

WC:1.2k

Warning:grammar

photo not mine credits to owner.

Gunil

Late night walks with Gunil were a regular occurrence in your relationship. There was something so domestic, but also stress relieving about them. It was currently winter, so your walks didn’t last for too long due to the cold temperatures.

Currently, you were strolling alongside Gunil with your glove clad hands linked together. Telling him about something funny that happened earlier in the day. The two of you broke into laughter about it. That’s when you noticed how red his ears were. Quickly you removed the beanie you were wearing and moved to stand in front of Gunil.

“You should’ve told me you were cold,” you scolded as you placed the beanie onto his head, making sure his ears were warmly covered. Then you kept your hands placed over his ears in an effort to help warm them up.

“You’ll get cold now,” Gunil complained, hands coming up to grab your arms, but he doesn’t push them away, instead he holds them gently.

“Then let’s head home before that happens,” you tell him, removing your hands. Proceeding to walk back home. Once more your glove clad hands linking you two together.

Jungsu

At the moment you and Jungsu found yourselves walking in the late hours of the night. The chilly winter air was caressing your faces, bringing light pink hues to them. Jungsu had one of your hands in his jacket pocket holding it firmly and occasionally rubbing it with his thumb. The two of you were casually talking about a new restaurant that opened up, making plans to go to it together. An icy breeze blew by and it caused Jungsu to shiver. Noticing this you pulled your hand free from his pocket and used it to unwrap your scarf.

“What are you doing?” Jungsu asked, watching your actions.

“Here,” you said, leaning up to wrap your scarf around his neck, making sure it was on securely. If his cheeks weren’t already pink from the cold they would definitely be now.

“What about you?” He questioned caringly.

“I’m ok,” you reassured him with a smile.

“Thank you,” he thanked you, retaking your hand in his and placing it back into his pocket. The two of you then continued on your walk with small smiles pulling at your lips.

Gaon/Jiseok

Going on a late night ice cream run in the middle of winter probably wasn’t the most logical thing, but it’s what you and Jiseok were presently doing. A cone of your favorite flavors in your hands while you walk around enjoying the ambience of the night.

“You know this is nice. You don’t have to worry about the ice cream melting this way,” Jiseok states, causing you to laugh.

“That’s true,” you chuckled. “I don’t think it helps in terms of beating the cold though,” you added.

“Maybe not, but it’s still delicious,” Jiseok pointed, taking another bite from his cone. After you finished your ice creams you noticed Jiseok rubbing his hands together. Now you saw the coldness of red they were painted with. You removed your gloves and approached him.

“Give me your hands,” you instructed him.

“Why?” he questioned you. You held up your gloves as your answer. “Your hands will get cold though,” he pouted, hugging his hands into his chest away from you.

“Then how about this, I’ll wear one, you wear the other one and we can hold hands with our bare ones,” you suggest. Jiseok took a second to think before agreeing. Now you’re each wearing one glove and your other hands cling to each other for warmth.

O.de/Seungmin

There was just something very bonding about taking a late night stroll with Seungmin when the both of you should be sleeping. Knowing that you’ll be tired in the morning, but it’s well worth it since you get to spend time with one another. The coldness of winter had you two walking side by side with your arms hooked together. You were talking to Seungmin about your day when you felt his shift a little closer to you. At first you didn’t think much of it, but then you felt a slight shaking coming from him. You turned to look at him. He was definitely trying to act like he wasn’t cold. You removed your scarf from around your neck.

“You can just say that you’re cold you know,” you told him as you began to wrap your scarf around his neck.

“I like spending time like this with you though,” he said. You couldn’t suppress the smile that pulled on your lips.

“Better?” you asked him.

“Much. What if you get cold though?” He answered.

“Then I’ll tell you that I’m cold,” you teased him. He rolled his eyes at you then wrapped his arm around your shoulder keeping you at his side.

Junhan/Hyeongjun

The quieter sounds of the night surrounded you and Hyeongjun as you walked around on the streets. The wintry air felt crisp as it made contact with your skin. You and Hyeongjun were connected by a pair of headphones that played one of your favorite playlists. Hyeongjun pulled out his phone to check something. You spotted the way his hand shivered slightly and was slightly red. You took off the gloves that were currently covering your hands. After Hyeongjun put his phone back in his pocket, you took his hand in yours. You slipped your glove onto his hand gently then repeated to do the same with his other hand.

“You didn’t have to,” Hyeongjun says bashfully, but you could tell he was touched by your action.

“I wanted to though,” you tell him. Grasping his now gloved hands in yours and rubbing them to generate some heat to help them warm up faster.

“Thank you,” he tells you.

“You’re welcome. We can’t let your precious guitar playing hands freeze,” you said playfully.

“Your hands are precious too, so let’s get back before yours freeze,” he tells you, taking your hand in his.

Jooyeon

It was a late winter's night, but you and Jooyeon were feeling a bit restless, so the two of you decided to go for a walk. Both of you were talking about whatever came to mind. Your joined hands slightly swayed back and forth as you walked together. Playfully trying to match your steps together. Moments like these were so simple, yet unforgettable. Being able to bask in each other's presence without any other worries. A time where you could forget about life for a bit. Jooyeon was pointing at some constellation of stars saying they looked like a goose when saw just how pink his nose had gotten. You pulled your beanie from your head and placed it onto Jooyeon’s instead.

“Why did you do that?” He questioned, acting like you just did something absurd.

“Because you're clearly cold Jooyeon, don't try to deny it,” you told him. “Maybe we should head home now,” you suggested.

“No, I want to stay out a little longer, it’s nice,” Jooyeon refused. You can’t deny that, spending time like this is quite nice.

“Fine we’ll stay a little longer,” you conceded.

“Yay!” Jooyeon exclaimed happily. He wrapped one arm around your waist pulling you to his side, cause he didn't want you to get cold.

78 notes · View notes

annabthesolitarywriter · 3 months ago

Text

TOLKIEN OC WEEK- Day 4

Prompt: Gaps and Ghosts

Title: A Daughter's Plea.

Canon Characters: (King) Aragorn Elessar; Crown Prince Eldarion (mentioned)

Original Characters=> Princess Gilraen of the Reunited Kingdom

Estella (Gilraen's governess)

Imrolas (Lord Chancellor/Aragorn's private secretary)

Lord Daerion (Eldarion's tutor),

Lady "Aunt" Mörwen (Aragorn's cousin; mentioned)

CW: Mature themes, arranged marriage, somewhat graphic description of attempted s***ide.

Synopsys: King Elessar has decided his eldest (for now only) daughter, Princess Gilraen, is ready for marriage. Unfortunately, the young royal is not at all pleased with her betrothed.

Word Count: (AO3 stats=> 9,776 words)

Also posted on AO3! (Chapter 2; day 4)

It contains major spoilers for my main WIP The Lady of Ithilien (link to be found in my general masterlist)

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

To know more about my OCs, please check my character profiles on Tumblr. (@annabawritersdream)

More information on Gilraen:

She is the second child of High King Aragorn Elessar and Queen Arwen. Born in FoA 3, she has one older brother (Eldarion, born FoA 1) and several younger sisters: Celebrían (born FoA 9) twins Lóthuil and Lóthriel (born FoA 16) and Meleril (born FoA 19).

GLOSSARY (SINDARIN)

Guren vell: (my) sweetheart

Ada: dad

A Daughter's Plea

Minas Tirith, FoA 15.

“What do you think, Estella?”

“I daresay you look splendid, Madam. Absolutely ravishing.”

Gilraen stood in front of the mirror and improvised a twirl.

“If I am not mistaken, that was also your opinion concerning all the other dresses that were brought in.”

“Forgive me, Madam, but there is no denying that they are all exquisite and befitting of the only daughter of our gracious King Elessar. Though I must say that, out of all the dresses the Lady Mörwen has gifted you, this may probably be that which I would be most inclined to wear. It is a magnificent creation, but I would expect no less from the clothiers of Dol Amroth. Their skill is said to be unparalleled. If I may, Madam, I also would like to remark on the dress’ subtle, understated details. I usually do not find golden motives to be aesthetically pleasing as I often find them redundant and inelegant, yet the embroideries along the cuffs are admittedly flawless.”

“It truly is beautiful. Yet I do not think I shall wear it on a regular occurrence.”

“Why is that?”

“As magnificent as it is, I do not feel comfortable in it. It is much too elaborate for my taste.”

“What would you wear then, Madam?”

“I think my blue dress will do.”

Estella sighed and rolled her eyes. “My lady…”

“What is wrong with it? It was also a gift from aunt Mörwen and there is no denying that…”

“It is old and tattered, Madam. Surely you would not want to appear before your Lord Father and your Lady Mother in those rags.”

“Do you think my mother and father would even notice? My brother is all they think about. He is all they care about. Their precious firstborn child, the heir to the House of Telcontar. They barely acknowledge my presence these days, Estella. I always knew I never mattered and, though it hurts me deeply, I am glad they finally came to terms with it. No more lying, no more hypocrisy on their part. No more pretending.”

“Madam, if I may…”

“No, Estella. I know exactly what you are about to say, and it is simply not true. My mother never loved me. One would think that the daughter of the bearer of Vilya, the last descendant of a long line of mighty Elven lords and powerful ladies, the Evenstar of her people and the most beautiful maiden to currently walk the earth would be wise not to favor one child above the other.”

“Your Lord Father…”

“The King still thinks of me as a child. He does not value my opinions, nor does he ever asks for them. To him, I am merely a pawn, a thing of no value.”

“Do not say that I pray you. The Allfather knows our King loves you very much, Madam.”

“Would he constantly dismiss my feelings if he did? Would he avoid speaking to me?”

“Perhaps he fails to show it properly, but he does care for you.”

“That day…the day I took an arrow which was clearly meant for him…all I wanted was…”

She sighed as her voice trailed off. “When the arrow hit me and my father held me in his arms, I...”

She gulped. “I was overjoyed that he had finally acknowledged me, that he had seen me. Though my vision was fading, I mustered all my remaining strength and proudly looked upon him…”

“My lady…”

“Tears were streaming down his face. I remember thinking that maybe I had finally accomplished something worth of my status as a princess. I had succeeded in protecting him; something at which the guards of the Grey Company had failed. All of those guards clad in the most magnificent armor, war-hardened soldiers trained by excellent sword masters to protect and defend their Liege-Lord. Yet, none of them had noticed the arrow coming toward the procession. No one noticed it but me. A girl who was not even supposed to be there. Eldarion did not see it, Captain Halboron was not able to spot it either. I did and I jumped before him. I was told it was a Haradrim dart.”

“Haradrim? From Harad?”

“It was laced with poison.”

Estella hugged the princess tightly. “I still cannot fathom you could have died. What would I do without you? My sweet lady, my beautiful little girl. I hope you will pardon my impudence, but…I happen to care for you as if you were one of my own. I had two wonderful boys once. Two boys and a little girl who looked like you. Though no Elven blood ran through her veins, she did indeed have a fair complexion and bright gray eyes similar to yours.”

“Did she…”

“She died of illness as an infant.” She sighed and a rueful smile appeared on her face as she caressed the princess’ cheek. “My boys died too, though the circumstances of their early demise were fairly different.”

“Do you feel comfortable enough to tell me about their deaths? I would never wish to cause you unnecessary pain and I would like to apologize in advance for shamelessly asking you to share such personal details. I have now just realized that I know very little about you. For instance, I was not aware you were married. Is your husband…”

“Sadly, it has been many years since my husband traveled beyond the Circles of the World. Shattered by our daughter’s untimely passing, he resorted to alcohol to numb his pain. The man I had married, the man I had loved with every fiber of my being slowly wasted away, drowning his sorrow in ale and wine. So much wine. He would refuse to eat, and he would not sleep, neglecting his marital duties. He was no longer interested in his craft, in his sculptures, in his books, in his children. All that that he had enjoyed prior to our baby girl’s demise had suddenly lost its appeal. I watched him wither and shrink, the spark in his eyes replaced by thick veil of despair none of us seemed to be able to pierce. His now perennially glazed eyes had turned imperious and cold, his face unrecognizable. Though he had showered my boys with a copious amount of affection, the love he felt for his daughter was unparalleled. He was perhaps the only man within the walls of this city to value a girl over his male heirs.”

“The world is in dire need of such people, I reckon,” the princess replied as she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Though I do not think I am more valuable than my brother, I certainly do believe I am no less important than him. I wish my mother and father would agree.”

She held onto Estella. “I am so sorry for your loss. Though we fail to communicate most of the time, I know I could not bear it if either one of my parents died. Though I cannot stand him on most occasions, I would be devastated if something happened to my brother. Were I on my deathbed, I suppose he would not shed a single tear.”

“You may not believe it, Madam, but he was rather shaken following the accident.”

“Of course he was. Although Father was the main target, he too could have been hit. You know how much of a coward my brother is. Young children are braver than he is. I am surprised he did not have someone help him escape as soon as the arrow was released.”

“He is the Crown Prince and your father’s only heir. His survival is vital to the kingdom and I have no doubt that some people at court—influential nobles holding grudges against your father for whatever reason—who may be plotting his downfall as we speak. They have already tried killing the King, how do you know they will not attempt at your brother’s life as well? I am sure he, too, knows that it is a very likely outcome. He has a right to be scared.”

“I am certain no one from Gondor is to blame. As long as he does not leave the capital—or the kingdom for that matter—he is safe.”

“Is he?”

“No one would dare attack the Prince.”

“You prevented your father’s assassination.”

“I did indeed.”

She glanced at Estella. “No one in Gondor would purposely hurt my brother. Our people would never do such a thing. Are you perhaps trying to suggest otherwise?”

“I do not know, Madam. I thought the King could not be harmed. If you had not…”

“Please do not speak of it. We all know what could have happened and we should be thankful it did not come to pass. The mere thought of attending my father’s funeral…”

She cleared her throat as she pushed back tears. “Eldarion is much too young to ascend the throne now. He cannot sit on it, Estella. He would run the Reunited Kingdom into the ground and destroy the legacy of our House. He has no supporters, no one to guide him, no one to advise him. Those Haradrim traitors would certainly seize an opportunity and attack the city at once. Minas Tirith and its people would be annihilated. Our heritage, our culture, the traditions of our mighty ancestors…all would be lost. Gondor would cease to exist and with it the remnants of the greatest civilization of Middle-earth too would fall into oblivion.” She gulped and nervously rubbed her fingers. “I love my brother dearly, but he must not be permitted to rule until he shows he has acquired some wisdom and common sense.”

“He is still so very young, Madam. He has got time still.”

“His behavior is deeply concerning. Mother and Father refuse to acknowledge it simply because he is the heir to the House of Telcontar. He is immature, entitled…and vicious. I pity the woman he will marry.”

“I beg to differ. The lady Elenna seems quite content with the arrangement.”

“The Lady Elenna…”

The princess sighed and shook her head. “She is scared, Estella. I can see it in her eyes. That poor girl has never been happy. I have seen how my brother treats her…his attitude towards her…”

“Our prince certainly would not harm her, Madam.”

“He would. He would and he already did. I saw him. He slapped her because she would not give in to his demands.”

“Are you certain, Madam? Perhaps the Lady Elenna was talking to somebody else; someone that you mistook for your brother.”

“Do you not believe me, Estella?”

“I have never said that, my lady. But I find it hard to…”

“You do not believe me. Do you think I would purposely lie and slander the Crown Prince? Do you think I would speak if I was not beyond certain of what I saw and heard?”

“If I ever implied it, then I apologize.”

“I firmly believe the people would never harm him. They cherish him, but that is only because they are unaware of his true character. I am afraid they will indeed try and hurt him once they find out who he really is, how he acts behind closed doors. They seem to adore him and how could I blame them? He is handsome, the fairest prince of Men to ever walk Middle-earth since the Elder Days. He knows how to approach people; he is gallant and kind when the situation requires it. He is a charmer. He possesses good qualities, and it is undeniable that he knows how to use them to his advantage. He has mastered the art of deception.”

“I do understand your concerns, Madam, and I partly agree with you, yet…it seems to me you are trying to portray your bother as sort of Dark Lord.”

“Is it not accurate though? He knows how to manipulate people. Whatever he wants, he takes. No one questions him. He believes he is control of his actions, but he does not realize others are pulling the strings behind his back, namely that horrid tutor of his.”

“Lord Daerion? He is always so courteous and…”

“He is hiding something, Estella. I can feel it. He should not be allowed to be around my brother. His whereabouts are unknown, he has no family, no friends…we do not even know where he lives. How can we trust such a secretive individual? How has he been allowed to become the Crown Prince’s only confidant? A man with no position…”

“He did serve under Lord Denethor, Madam. The late Steward took him in when he was allegedly abandoned by his parents as a young child. He was then raised as a proper lord.”

“From all accounts, the deceased Steward was a repulsive excuse of a ruler and an abhorrent father to Lord Faramir. I have no doubt that Daerion is more of the same. I was right to distrust him.”

“I do not doubt your intuition, but, if I may, I have a suggestion I should like you to consider.”

“What is it?”

“Let go of prejudice.”

The princess frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It seems to me you are blinded by preconceived notions. The Lord Denethor was indeed a troubled individual, but he did have a difficult past and was forced to endure a great deal of pain. Perhaps doting on Lord Daerion was a way to reconnect with his old self, with the man he had been before he was struck by pain and tragedy. He saved an innocent child from misfortune and showered him with love and attention. What would have been of Lord Daerion had the late Steward not provided him with an adequate livelihood? He most certainly would have perished.”

“Could he not show the same love and care to his son?”

“You speak of things you do not know, my lady.”

“Many contemporaries of the Lord Denethor still dwell within these halls, Estella. Even his staunchest supporters and closest allies have confirmed that our current Steward was treated less than favorably by his sire. Some of those lords immediately swore fealty to the Prince of Ithilien following my father’s accession as they were outraged by the unfair treatment previously suffered by Lord Faramir. They wished to make amends for not protecting him when they should have. They knelt before him and begged for mercy, which was granted to them.” She sighed. “I admire Lord Faramir. He is knowledgeable and quick-witted. I wish my brother had turned to him for counsel. It would have benefited him greatly and he would now be maturing into the valiant prince he tricked the people into thinking he is. As far as I know, Lord Faramir had offered to tutor my brother, but Eldarion turned him down for Daerion.”

She paused. “It is not hard to imagine why he would do such a thing. It is no secret that my bother loves being coddled. Only Eru knows what that vile snake told him. My brother may be able to manipulate others, but he is manipulated just as easily. He is persuaded that Daerion cares for him, but it is apparent that Daerion is only interested in his reputation. That is all he cares about. I am certain he has spies and informants lingering about. He craves power, I can see it in his eyes. He craves power and would do anything to…”

She exhaled.” It is inevitable for me not to think ill of someone who was reared by a heartless madman.”

“Do you know him well enough? I think not. You should not be making assumptions, my lady. It is impolite and, if he truly is the sort of man, you are so adamantly describing, it could very dangerous if your words were overheard.”

“The Prince and the King must be protected.”

“They have the best protection available in all the lands of Men, as it is their right. The Grey Company…”

“The Grey Company failed to ensure their safety. My father only survived because of me.”

Her eyes rested on her governess’ face.

“Estella.”

“What is it, Madam?”

“I think…”

She pursed her lips. “I believe you were right. It all makes sense.”

“Madam, I am not following.”

“You said it before. You said it yourself, remember?”

“I beg your pardon, my lady, but I do not know what you are talking about. Perhaps if you would be so kind to provide some context…”

“You mentioned how there were no Haradrim at the parade.”

“That is correct. I did say that.”

“It only means the attacker was a Gondorian. You were right. Of course you were. No Rohirrim and no Haradrim attended the parade, after all.”

“Perhaps someone from Harad infiltrated the crowd and managed to…”

“They would have been caught, Estella. People from Harad have somewhat of a…distinctive appearance. They would never wear Gondorian garments, which makes them easily detectable.”

“We cannot know whether…”

“Why are you retracting your statement? I understand that you probably did not mean it. Perhaps you intended it to be a joke, a careless remark. But it is an entirely possible scenario, if not the most likely to have occurred.”

“You truly believe that…”

“It is my opinion that someone dwelling within our borders orchestrated an assassination attempt on my father. Perhaps they were also planning to murder my brother.”

“And I suppose you firmly believe that someone to be Lord Daerion, is that right?”

“I do.”

“It is not my place to argue with you, Madam, but…”

“Why are you defending him? Why are you trying to make excuses for him? Are you one of his mistresses?”

“Of course not!”

“You said it yourself, Estella. How can you not understand? Someone from Gondor was behind the attempt on my father’s life,” the Princess insisted. “Someone who knows our family well, someone who has access to my father’s inner circle. Someone my father trusts.”

“Your father has surrounded himself with many capable statesmen. Why are so you keen on accusing Lord Daerion? He’s your brother’s tutor and confidant. Why would he harm the King? He cares for Prince Eldarion as if he were his own son and every little thing he does is for his happiness and better comfort.”

“You are so blinded, Estella. For Eru’s sake, WAKE UP! You had an affair with him, there is no other explanation.”

“Madam, I…”

Estella was interrupted by a loud bang followed by a thud. A young man was on the floor, the wooden tray he has been carrying also on the ground. Estella frowned and rolled her eyes.

“Imrolas.”

He immediately stood up, picking up the tray. “Forgive me. I did not mean to barge in this unseemly fashion. I tripped and…”

“To what do we owe the grand entrance?”

“I…”

“We do not have all day, Imrolas! Place the tray anywhere you like and bow to the Princess. And do clean up this mess! Whatever was in the cup that so very unceremoniously shattered on the floor happened to spill all over the rug!”

“I had boiled some milk for the Princess…”

“She is no longer five years old! Why would you do such a thing?”

“She usually has it with sugar and vanilla extract…it is her favorite drink…”

“Do you have anything to say? Or have you come here just to be a bother?”

Imrolas bowed his head. “I was sent by King Elessar. He wishes to speak to his daughter at once.”

“You could have said it much earlier. I suppose the cleaning can be postponed. Has our gracious King mentioned…”

Imrolas turned to the Princess. “He has decided to marry you off, Madam. He is waiting for you in his study.”

He glanced at Estella. “I was not going to clean it anyway. You may do it yourself. You are the head of the Princess’ household, and it is one of your many duties. I shall tend to mine. I may be clumsy, and I may be carefree, but I deserve to be valued and respected. You cannot talk to me that way. I do not answer to you and I owe you nothing. I was sent here to deliver a message, and I thought the Princess might enjoy a glass of milk. That is all.”

He placed the tray on a nearby table and bowed to the Princess. She was staring at him in anguish. “Marry? I have to…. marry?” she asked. “It cannot be, Imrolas. Why would my father…”

“It is the King’s decision, my lady. I am only his secretary, there is nothing I can do about it. I was tasked with bringing you the news and I had to comply.”

“NO! I do not want this!”

“If you please, Madam, I shall escort you to…”

“NO!” she cried. “Estella…say something. Speak to him. Speak to the King, I don’t want to marry. I am not ready, I don’t…”

“Who am I do so, my lady? Perhaps you will grow to love your husband. Maybe it will be love at first sight. I am sure…”

“I do not want to be wed, Estella! Why is no one listening to me!?”

The Princess rushed to Imrolas and hugged him. “Who am I marrying? You have seen him, am I right? You have, Imrolas, I know you have! Please tell me…”

“I am not allowed to say anything.”

“Imrolas, please. I don’t trust my father on such matters. I love him dearly, but I…”

“Come, my lady. We should not have him wait.”

She clung to him. “I have a bad feeling, Imrolas. I am scared. I would rather stay here.”

“You must not be afraid.”

“Why do I see pity in your eyes? What is going on? Who is my betrothed? Tell me his name. I am certain that my father told you who I am marrying. He informed you about it. Please, Imrolas. I beg you…do tell me. Say it.”

“Come with me. You shall see for yourself once he joins you and your gracious father.”

Estella and Imrolas had to forcibly drag her out of her chambers, the young royal protesting and hollering for an explanation.

“Behave, my lady.”

“Behave? Are you seriously asking me to…behave?”

“I am, my lady. Your screams will be heard by the whole court. Is this what you want?”

“If you think I am interested in the opinion of servile courtiers and in that of silly ladies whose only purpose is…”

“You will follow us and…”

“I do not intend to leave my chambers.”

Imrolas glanced at her. “My Princess, I beg you…”

“I will not change my mind. I am staying here.”

“Please, my lady, do not…”

Imrolas trailed off and gasped as Estella and picked up the Princess, tossing her unceremoniously over her shoulder and placing a hand over her mouth. “I have not done this since you were a toddler,” she complained. “Albeit disgraceful, it is somehow more dignified than the horrid spectacle you are currently making of yourself.”

All the Princess could do was mumble and stare at Imrolas, who was himself bewildered.

“What are you doing, Mistress Estella? Is this the proper way to treat a princess?”

“If she insists on acting like a spoiled toddler who will not listen to reason, then yes, my Lord Secretary of the King. It is.”

“And you truly believe that carrying her as if she were a potato bag will be helpful in bringing her back to her senses about a marriage to which she clearly does not consent?

“I raised her myself, Imrolas.”

“I understand, Estella. Yet I fail to see…”

“I know what I am doing.”

“I think you could try and persuade the King to reconsider his decision. Is it not what the Princess asked of you?”

“Why do you not do it, Master Secretary? You may have a better chance of succeeding. Our Liege trusts you and confides in you. You spend more time with him than anybody in this court. Surely putting in a word would not be too difficult for you, would it?”

“I am only a secretary. It is not my place to criticize our Liege-lord.”

“It is not mine either. I am only the Princess’ governess.”

“Well, what can we do then?”

“We are servants, Imrolas. Servants obey and keep their opinions to themselves. They keep quiet and do as their lord commands. That means there is virtually nothing we can do.”

“I thought that maybe you…”

“I oversaw the Princess’ education, that is true. I taught her how to walk and how to dress. I devoted myself to her upbringing. That does not mean I can change the King’s mind. No one can.”

“Perhaps we could speak to the Queen…”

“Be reasonable, Imrolas. Be reasonable.”

“I simply suggested…”

“It is a foolish suggestion! Do you seriously think we could go to the Queen and ask her to intercede on our behalf? Have you become a complete half-wit?”

“What would happen? We could ask for an audience…”

“And say what?! Our esteemed Princess does not wish to wed?”

“Y…yes? Is that not the truth?”

He glanced at her. “She does not seem at all pleased with it.”

“That is only because I am carrying her as if she were a potato bag as you rightly pointed out.”

“You could at least take your hand off her mouth.”

“Oh no, that would be most unwise.”

“How so?”

“She would embarrass herself and we must prevent it, especially within these halls. Do you not know it is said that even walls have ears? The Princess’ reputation would be ruined.”

“I am starting to properly loathe that word.”

“You would be surprised to learn how many things I loathe.”

Imrolas raised an eyebrow and Estella scoffed. “I must confess I deeply envy those who do not live here. Though serving the realm is my most sacred franchise, I…”

“You wish you were not the Princess’ governess.”

“I love our Princess as if she were my own child. As a matter of fact, she reminds me of my daughter; my beautiful girl whom I lost so many years ago. Yet…”

“Yet?”

“I truly wish we could help her. She does not deserve to be married off so young.”

Imrolas glanced at the Princess. “Are you comfortable up there, Madam?”

The Princess released a grunt and kicked Imrolas in the shoulder. The latter wheezed. “I suppose not.”

“She need not worry, for I will soon free her. That is, if she acts as befitting her station.”

“I do hope you will release her.” He leaned in. “Mind your tongue, my lady. She is the King’s daughter. A bold choice of words may cost you your pretty head.”

“Nonsense. The Princess would never harm me. Perhaps it is you, after all. You are eager to get rid of me.”

“Oh, not at all my fair lady,” he quipped. “You may not believe me, but I very much enjoy being around you when you are not insulting me.”

“You take delight in annoying me, Imrolas. I reckon that to be far more likely.”

“Perhaps.” He sighed. “Would you mind putting the Princess down? Watching her flail her arms makes me uncomfortable.”

“Oh, my poor, sensitive Imrolas,” the governess mocked him. “I suppose you have never been to battle. It would serve you well. At least you would learn to be less impressionable.”

“And you have, my lady? How many enemies have you slaughtered with your beautiful dress and headpieces? How many experienced warriors have you faced?”

“It is not a fair comparison, my Lord Secretary.”

“Women can participate in war if they so wish. Take the late Lady Éowyn for instance. She joined the army led by Théoden King and Éomer King and killed the Lord of the Nazgûl at the Pelennor Fields. She was only twenty-four years of age when she did that. I think it is impressive.”

“Not all women are like the Lady Éowyn. Be careful not to speak of her.”

“How come? She should be hailed as one of the greatest figures of this past age. She saved us all. Minas Tirith would have fallen, had she not slain that foul beast and its accursed rider.”

“I am aware of it. I know it all too well. Yet, you should refrain from mentioning her deeds. Members of this court may be quick to judge you and, as far as I know, most of them despise you already. You had better not give them any more reasons to hate you.”

“Do they really despise me?”

“If the persistent rumors I have heard have some truth to them…I suppose that…”

“Why would they though? I have never offended or disrespected anyone. I have never even spoken to them, Estella. I barely talk to anyone except you and King Elessar. I am his secretary, the Lord Chancellor as some would say. I manage his correspondence, and I am in charge of his seal. It is my responsibility to keep track of his private expenses, and it is also my duty to collect taxes. I spend my days in an office with a balcony overlooking the Citadel and I rarely leave my quarters whenever the King does not require my assistance. I am only trying to serve the realm to the best of my ability. I may not have been the most qualified candidate to…”

“There. That is precisely the reason why others loathe the sight of you.”

“They think I am unfit to serve as Lord Chancellor, do they not?”

“You said so yourself. You mentioned how clumsy and clueless you are several times since I met you and remarked on it earlier.”

“No, I…I did not…I meant…I…”

“Calm down, Imrolas.”

“Do you agree with them?”

“Imrolas…”

“It is a simple question. The answer should not require much thought, as it is fairly straightforward. Do you agree or not?”

Estella glanced at him. “No. No, I don’t.” Her lips curved into a meek smile, an amused twinkle in her eye. “Although you could try and be slightly more…organized. I have seen your study, and I think you should thank the Valar the King is not interested in visiting you.”

“He does not have time to visit me. He has many issues to take care of and so have I.”

“You should be grateful and pray that the One keeps him busy.”

“It is not funny, Estella. I take my duties seriously and…”

“I know that, my friend. I just thought I could land you a helping hand.”

“What for? I mean, I am flattered. I…what would I need help with? I cannot think of a single thing that needs fixing or…”

“When was the last time that study was cleaned, for instance?”

The secretary instantly paled. “Ugh…I…well, I…”

“That is what I thought.”

“What…what do you intend to do about it?”

“Dust it? Clean it? Sweep the floors, add some color to it? Add some flowers, a few pillows here and there? One may as well find more cheer in the Houses of the Dead.”

“I am very meticulous when it comes to…”

“Oh, do keep your tongue behind your teeth, Imrolas! You cannot fool me.”

“I am not trying to, I…”

“Here we are,” the governess cut him off. “Madam?”

Gilraen let out a grunt and tried to sound out some words, Estella’s hand still on her mouth.

“May Eru be blessed, you are alive. You have been awfully quiet; I was starting to worry.”

The Princess’ mumbling prompted Estella to set her free. She put her down gently and fixed her hair. “We are approaching the King’s study. Please, Madam, do not cause a scene.”

“I have no desire to marry.”

“You will have to. Your father…”

“He cannot force me.”

“You are the King’s daughter, and you are expected to...”

“I will not marry anyone. Not for a long time.”

“I have no wish to gag you again, but if you keep arguing and interrupting me when I am attempting to…”

“What about you? Have you ever considered taking another husband? You could wed Imrolas. I heard you talk, and you quarrel like an old married couple. What do you think, Imrolas?”

“Madam, now it is not an appropriate time to jest. Your father is waiting for you. You should go.”

“Will you two not accompany me?”

The secretary and the governess exchanged a glance. “Would you like us to?”

“Yes. I do not think I can do it alone.”

They walked to her father’s study silently, Imrolas and Estella slowing their pace so that the Princess could take the lead. They were servants and, as such, it was forbidden for them to trudge by her side. They turned a corner and saw full-armored guards stationed on both sides of the corridor, the winged crown of Gondor and the scepter of Annúminas intertwined in an elaborate coat of arms that was plastered on their tabards as well as on their helms. They bowed as she hesitantly trudged along, their heads as low as hers. She stopped before a carved oak door. She turned back and sighed as Estella and Imrolas each gave her an encouraging nod. Then they both bowed and took their leave of her. She stood still for a few more minutes before the guard standing closest to her opened the door, careful not to meet her eye. She pursed her lips and prayed to Eru. All will be well, she told herself. Whatever happens, do not lose hope. For lost is the faithless when the road darkens.

“Gilraen, guren vell. Do come in.”

She entered the room and curtsied. Elessar stood and walked up to her, hugging her tightly. “My beautiful girl. You must be wondering why I called you here.”

He kissed her brow and the light in his eyes dimmed as he glanced into hers. “What is it, my child?”

“I…I was told…”

“Oh, you already know about it, then.” He kissed her cheek. “I am so proud of you, my sweet girl. Are you alright?”

Her lips curved into an understated smile as she bowed her head.

“Gilraen?”

“I am, my lord. I am fine. You seem to be in good health as well.”

“It is because of you that I still live, my daughter.” He ran a hand through her hair. “I need you to promise me something.”

“You only need ask. I am yours to command.”

“Never try and save my life again.”

“Father…”

“Should I perish, whether it be in combat or…”

“Please don’t…”

“You’re right. You probably do not wish to hear unpleasant things on such a joyful occasion. I have summoned you here to discuss another matter. I apologize for not telling you sooner, but, as it happens, my mind was set on your full recovery.”

“I know. Though I was unconscious most of the time, I knew you were by my side. I felt your presence, and, for that, I am grateful. You worked tirelessly to ensure my survival.”

Elessar caressed her face. “My sweet girl…forgive me for not being a better father to you. Eru knows that I have made mistakes. I have neglected you and disregarded you, but I believe I have found a way to mend our relationship. I know how tedious life at court is to you. Which is why I have decided to allow you to spend a few months away from the capital.”

Gilraen’s eyes widened. “My liege, I…”

“Father. Please do not use titles with me. I am your father, Gilraen.”

“I...do not know what to say.”

“It is not what you have always wished for?”

“I…”

“You are trembling. Are you certain you’re alright?”

“I…”

“Gilraen?”

His tone was full of concern. “My child, look at me. If you don’t feel well…”

“I am fine. I am just…confused.”

“How so?”

“You were never in favor of me leaving Minas Tirith. You always called me back whenever I left to visit Aunt Mörwen and you know how safe her mansion is. Why would you send me away when you always insisted that I stay here?”

“You are not going back to Dol Amroth. Forget about Aunt Mörwen.”

She frowned. “What do you mean? Am I no longer allowed to…”

“You will be escorted to Lossarnach as soon as possible.”

“Why? What am I to do there?”

“It is my personal thank you to you, my child. A wedding gift which I hope shall be well received.”

“Wedding gift?”

“Are you not glad?”

“I…”

“Gilraen?”

“Should I be?”

“It is for you to tell me. Though I must confess I did expect quite a different reaction. Usually, ladies cannot contain their excitement hearing such news. That is my experience, at least.”

“To whom am I to be married? Imrolas would not speak about it. Why am I being sent to Lossarnach? There is nothing for me to do there.”

“Your betrothed has been granted lordship over the region and you, as his bride, are entitled to the title of lady of Lossarnach. The Prince of Umbar was briefly considered as a viable alternative, but you never seemed comfortable with the idea of crossing the border.”

“That is not true. I have only been to Dol Amroth, and you always called me back here nearly as soon as you learned of my departure. I would like to travel to Rohan and I should also enjoy to visit my uncles and see my Lady Mother’s childhood home for myself. Rivendell must be so beautiful and…”

“That is enough, Gilraen.”

“But…”

“I must tell you that the grandson of the current lord of Lebennin was also considered. I have met with the boy on a number of occasions and, though he would be an excellent husband, he suffers from a variety of ailments which can hardly be treated. I feel for the boy, truly. He would be the perfect husband for you, but I doubt he would be able to fulfill his marital duties. Our House is young, and it needs heirs in order to leave a lasting legacy.

“I am twelve years old…”

“I know, my child, I know. Your brother is fourteen and so is his own betrothed. Such is nature of unions among the nobility, whether we approve of it or we do not. I understand such a commitment may be cause of worry and distress, which is why I recommend that you spend some time with the lady Elenna. After all, she is your brother’s intended, and she also happens to be well-advised on several…”

“I will never be like the Lady Elenna nor do I wish to. I admire her but I pity her. I pity her and I would rescue her if I could. I would save her from the dark pit in which she is trapped.

“Trapped?”

“Have you not noticed how miserable she is?”

Elessar sighed. “She did indeed endure some unpleasant…”

“Do you think forcing an arranged marriage upon her will be at all helpful? The poor girl is unwell and no one seems to care. If she really must marry, at least have her choose her own husband. I have seen how Eldarion treats her, Father. I witnessed some of his brutality. He has no regard for her honor and…”

“I will not let you slander your brother. While it is understandable that you may not see eye to eye on certain...”

“Father, Eldarion is...”

“Do not interrupt me, my child,” he admonished her. “While I do agree that there are many at court who do not wish the Lady Elenna well—many of whom I have known for several years—I am beyond convinced your brother is not one of them. He may not be in love with her as of now, but he would never mistreat her.”

“Do you understand that a great deal of her pain and suffering are to be attributed to none other than my very own brother, to the Crown Prince you so revere? What has Eldarion done to deserve the constant praise you and Mother seem to be so keen on lavishing upon him? What has he done to deserve such boundless love? What has he achieved that I have not accomplished as well?”

“You both are distinguished members of House Telcontar. The future of the Reunited Kingdom rests in your hands.”

“You have not answered my question, Father,” Gilraen insisted. “What has Eldarion done that is so deserving of merit and attention?”

Elessar sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “It is true then. I hoped your brother’s worries were futile and unfounded. At last, it turns out he was correct.”

“Of what do you speak? What are you referring to?”

“Sadly, your brother is aware of the blatant disdain in which you hold him and is disconcerted by your cold demeanor and arrogant manners, which, I admit, I had not noticed until he pointed them out to me. He stressed how some of the rather grievous incidents in which you were recently involved and the issues that followed may have been exacerbated by your condescending attitude.”

“He accused me of being condescending?”

She scoffed. “I am so very pleased to know that my irreprehensible brother is now fit to lecture me on morals. If I may say so, Father, I think he ought to strive to better his own behavior and focus on his duties. As the Crown Prince, he is expected to uphold to the values of our forefathers.”

“Of course he is. And so are you.”

“I am trying to my best to act according to my conscience. I have always done so, and I stand firm on this proposition of mine. I am not one to be easily swayed.”

“Of that, I am glad,” he replied dryly. “Though I still fail to understand what you were trying to imply.”

“I find it odd that a man of your wisdom and acumen was unable to grasp the hidden meaning behind my previous statement.”

“Fret not, I did pick up on the subtleties.” Elessar glanced at his daughter, his gray eyes cold and stern. “However, I should very much like you to detail Eldarion’s misdeeds. They must be grave indeed to warrant such a harsh reaction.”

“Eldarion is not the boy you believe him to be, my liege.”

“It was your brother who brought it to my attention. We discussed the matter at great length, and it may be due to a poorly concealed feeling of jealousy on your part. While I dismissed his claim at the time our conversation about the matter took place, I see now that I should have heeded his words.”

“I never once thought my beloved father would favor one of his children beyond measure while completely disregarding the other, but it is apparent that the Crown Prince succeeded in poisoning you against me.” Her lip quivered. “What happened to you? Tell me, Ada. I…I need to know. What happened to us? Has your love for me utterly faded? Why will you not believe me, why will you not listen to me? Why will you not even look me in the eye?”

“Now it is not the time to address such…”

“You will not dismiss me again,” she chimed in. “I will not allow it.”

“Very well. Do speak, Gilraen.”

“Have you truly not noticed anything odd in Eldarion’s behavior? Is she such a good pretender that you would believe him if he told you that the Valar came among us?”

“Say what you must and make haste, I pray you. I did not summon you here so that you could slander your brother with unfounded accusations. Your intended is joining us shortly in order to discuss the terms of your betrothal as well as his plans for the betterment of Lossarnach.”

“You will not listen to me, will you? I have to yet say a word and…”

“Gilraen.”

“I must beg my liege to call off the Crown Prince’s betrothal to the Lady Elenna of Ithilien.”

Elessar frowned. “Why? I doubt that the Lady Elenna has behaved improperly.”

Gilraen clenched her jaw. “Must it always be the Lady Elenna or any other woman? Why can it not be Eldarion? Is it because he is a boy? Is it because he is a male?”

“You know very well that is not what I meant.”

“Is it because he is your coveted heir, the high and mighty Crown Prince of the Reunited Kingdom of Gondor and Arnor? Is that why you cannot fathom the concept of him ever making a mistake? That is it, is it not?”

“Your brother is a kind and thoughtful young man.”

“That is what he wants you and Mother to believe. Although he is excellent at making it seem so, he is not who he pretends to be.”

“Gilraen…”

“He beats her, Father. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your precious son. My brother. Eldarion.”

Elessar stared at her, a puzzled expression on his face. “What about him?”

“Do you not understand? He is the sole responsible for her troubles.” She sighed. “You care deeply about her, do you not?”

“Of course I do. She is a blessing to our family and will be a wonderful Crown Princess and an excellent Queen in due time. The realm will flourish under her guide and protection.”

“She will not be the Crown Princess, Father. For her own sake, she cannot be. Eldarion should not be permitted to wed until he matures and learns how to treat others.”

Confusion and bewilderment were etched on the King’s features. “My son would never disrespect anyone. He was not raised that way. I made sure of it.”

“I know,” the Princess quipped. “Unfortunately, my brother appears to have forgotten the values you and my Lady Mother tried to instill in him as a child. He strayed from the rightful path you set him on long ago and sought refuge in the counsel of another.”

She paused. “I suppose you are aware of his fondness for his tutor.”

Elessar nodded. “Lord Daeron is a trusted member of his household and a valuable ally to the Crown. He is a core member of my Council and has served me faithfully since I reclaimed the throne that was mine by right. He recently further proved his worth and his loyalty to the realm by saving your life. You, my daughter, stand before me because of him and, for that, I am forever in his debt. A debt which, I fear, shall never be fully paid. Though an attempt was made and an agreement between us was indeed reached, I fear it will not suffice.”

Gilraen ignored him. “What if he was to blame for Eldarion’s misbehavior? His influence on him is growing stronger by the day.”

“Lord Daeron oversees his scholarly education, that is all. Your brother has no other reason to see him, and, to my knowledge, he does not interact with him unless he has queries about his daily assignments. They speak of history, grammar and politics.”

“I presume Eldarion himself told you so.”

“You are correct.”

“I assume you do not know about his many concubines then.”

“What are you saying, Gilraen? You enjoy spreading lies and deceit to tarnish his reputation, do you not? What is it that you hope to gain from your scheming? Do you seek to win the people’s favor?”

He looked at her gravely. “Are you plotting to overthrow me? Do you want to be queen? Tell me, Gilraen. You wish to rule, is that right?”

Her eyes widened. “Father, how can you…?”

“What will you do? Speak. Tell me all about it. Will you have your brother killed? Are you hoping the people will murder him so that you can ascend the throne? Will you get rid of me as well? Will you have me executed? What about your mother? Is she going to be exiled?”

“How quickly did you forget that I saved you,” she replied, her tone low. “How quickly. I took an arrow that was meant for you, I bled for you, I nearly died for you, and this is what you think? Do you truly believe I would usurp your throne and murder my family in cold blood? I care nothing for that stupid chair. Yes, Father, that is all that it is. A stupid chair. A stupid, meaningless chair that could as well be destroyed by a flood or a natural disaster of any sort. Do you think I would choose a chair over my parents?”

“I did not…”

“I am trying to have a conversation with you, I am attempting to reason with you. I am only asking for a few minutes of your time. I am only asking you to listen. Can you do that? Can you listen to your own daughter? Is it too much to…”

Her voice trailed off and tears welled up in her gray eyes. “You need to save her. Save the Lady Elenna from my brother. Call off their betrothal. Marry her to somebody else, someone who will take care of her. I may not know her all that well, but she is struggling, Father. That much is clear for all to see. She is suffering and it is my wish to help her.”

“I had suggested that you spend some time with her. It will benefit you greatly. As I mentioned earlier, she is the epitome of…”

“Are you in denial or just plain cruel? She is suffering and we must do something to aid her. We must intervene before she…”

She noticed how her father had stiffened, his eyes suddenly vacant. “Are you alright?”

He did not reply and Gilraen raised an eyebrow. “Father?”

He gulped and took a deep breath before he sat. “I did intervene. Had I waited one more instant, she…”

“What did she do?”

“I…”

“Did my brother do something to her?”

“Gilraen…”

“Did the Prince force himself on her? I know he slaps her and pushes her around when she does not give in to his whims. I caught a glimpse of several bruises on her arms, and I may have inquired about a visible split lip but…even I cannot picture my brother...”

She held her breath and exhaled loudly. “He would not do that, would he? She is to be his wife. He cannot…please tell me that he…”

“She has taken up to wearing a tight collar around her throat, has she not?”

Gilraen blinked, confused. “I thought it was necklace at first, but…yes, she…she does wear one. Other ladies wear jewelry of the same fashion. Why do you ask?”

“She…she was attacked by two of your mother’s attendants. She would not say their names even though I begged her multiple times. She was trembling. They injured her with scissors and punched her repeatedly in the face. Poor child was so scared. They attacked her out of envy. That is what she told me. She said they harmed her because they were jealous of her future status as Crown Princess. She said they claimed to have slept with your brother. I did not believe it; I still do not believe it. I did not raise my son that way. My Eldarion would never do that. I warned the Lady Elenna about the remote possibility of him taking a mistress, but…”

“You knew…”

“I would have warned anyone. Infidelity is rampant in Gondor; it always has been. I simply wished to warn her as I would have done with any other lady. What matters is…I did not believe her. I got angry and said things I should not have. She blamed her late mother for her misfortune and…asked me to return to Emyn Arnen. She said she only wanted to be happy, and she doubted she could find respite here at court. She pleaded again and again…she cried out that she only wished to go home. I refused. I did not give her my permission to return to Ithilien. Then…”

He smothered a sob. “She grabbed her silver dagger, the one I gave her as a birthday present a few years ago. She held it tightly, pressed it against her throat and…”

Gilraen was fuming. “Why would you not allow her to leave? She attempted to kill herself…she tried to…”

The tears she had been holding back were now freely trickling down her pale cheeks. “You are to blame for this. It is your fault. You truly are cruel. Why would you…”

She was shaking in anger. “I am to be married to Daerion, am I not? You gave my hand in marriage to that depraved, disgusting, utterly foul specimen of a Secondborn. That was the agreement you reached, was it not?”

“He is a good man. He saved you when I could not.”

“I wish I had died.”

“GILRAEN!”

“I wish I had died before I learned what you did to an innocent girl who just wanted to see her home again. I wish I had died before I learned what sort of despicable individual you are.”

“I did not…”

“I am leaving. I am going back to Dol Amroth. Aunt Mörwen will attend on me so that I will not have to see you again.”

She turned and walked to the door. Elessar immediately rose to his feet. “I will not allow it, Gilraen.”

“I presumed you would say it. I hoped you would.”

“You are not permitted to leave this room until your betrothed arrives.”

“You can speak his name.”

A page suddenly entered the room and bowed. “I beg your pardon my liege,” he said sheepishly. “Lord Daerion is here. He says he was summoned to discuss a matter of the utmost importance.”

Elessar stood up. “He was.” He composed himself. “Let him in.”

The page bowed once more. “My King.”

He furthered opened the door and a tall, distinguished man who could have easily passed for a gentleman made his way in. Gilraen stumbled as he stepped closer to her. “My Princess,” he saluted her before bowing to Elessar. “My liege. You honor me beyond words.”

“Come, my lord.”

Gilraen shivered as her brother’s tutor walked by her. She sighed and held her breath, trying to control her shaking hands. She stood still, her ears deaf to most of the conversation between her father and her—she nearly fainted as she allowed herself to reflect on it—future husband. She could not move, her feet unable to sustain her weight. She fell to her knees without a sound, her mind blank. She no longer knew who she was, she did not know where she was, and it did not matter to her. She had died. She was reminded of the Lady Elenna and of her pain. A pain she had only now begun to understand.

She was pulled up by a pair of arms, but she could not feel her father’s embrace. She heard his voice call her name, but she found she was unable to talk.

She blinked as she realized she was lying on her bed. She was in her chambers, her governess watching over her.

“Madam?”

Gilraen whimpered. “Estella?”

She stirred. “My head hurts.”

“I was so worried when I saw your father carrying you…”

“Why was I brought here? What happened? I cannot seem to remember.”

“I am not quite sure.”

“Did I faint?”

“I would not say so, Madam. You were…catatonic. Lord Daerion mentioned how concerned he was and…”

Gilraen jerked as her mind cleared. Being of Elven descent certainly had its own perks. “I need to leave. Tomorrow. I am going back to Dol Amroth. Tell the maids to prepare all that is needed. We are going and the Lady Elenna is coming with us.”

“Madam, I am afraid it is not possible. The King…”

“He is marrying me off to him, Estella. I did not even want to be wed, and he is entrusting me to that old creep. What have I done to deserve it? Why me, Estella, why me!?”

“Madam, I am sure there is an explanation. You need to calm down. Your father would never endanger you. You need to speak to him so that he can…”

“We are leaving, Estella. We are leaving. The three of us.”

The governess looked puzzled. “The third person being…?”

“Why, the Lady Elenna, of course! Have someone—anyone—from my household send her a message. Urge them to do as I command at once. We cannot afford to waste time. We are leaving at dawn tomorrow.”

“Madam…you need plenty of rest and…”

“I need to see Aunt Mörwen. Both my life and that of the Lady of Ithilien depend on it, do you understand?”

“Madam, you need to calm down. Perhaps if the physician examined you…”

“I need you to listen to me. I need you to do as I say. Please, Estella. We both need to go. Aunt Mörwen will help us.”

“I…”

“That is, unless you want me to kidnap the Lady Elenna and run off with her as soon as the sun sets. I have done it before, and you know I would be capable of doing it again.” She chuckled. “I did not kidnap anyone last time though. Do you think it would be an easy feat to accomplish?”

Estella glared at her but the Princess ignore her disapproving looks. “So, what is it going to be?”

The governess pursed her lips. “I will have someone send the Steward’s daughter a message.”

“I knew I could trust you. I am not marrying Daerion, and she is not marrying my brother.”

“Is this why…”

“Yes. I will not let it happen. We will both be free.”

“I do not think the King and Lord Faramir will…”

“Go, Estella. Please. Please, do as I ask.”

The governess curtsied and left, a crease on her forehead. Young Gilraen smiled and soon her smile tuned into a smirk. She would be free. Soon, they would both be free. And happy.

Yes. They would be happy. The Lady Elenna would smile too at last.

She deserves it, Gilraen thought, she deserves it more than anyone. May the Valar protect us both. I do not know her all that well, but I want her to be happy.

She blew the candle on her night table and closed her eyes. Estella was right, she did need to rest. A long journey awaited her. A long, somewhat expected journey.

Canon Character Faceclaims:

Henry Cavill as Eldarion