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divinedeceptions-blog · 6 years ago

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The roof ridge walk

Quick note - I’ve posted this on my AO3 account as well so feel free to check that out. Also Im back from the dead hello.

Word count: 3978

Josie Pye had been very smug when she'd successfully walked the fence, glancing around at everybody in an extremely boastful manor. Anne had scoffed loudly, proclaiming that she'd know a girl who could walk the ridge pole of a building.

She'd felt an obligation to one-up Josie, and found great pleasure in watching her face twist and contort into sour expressions which made her look like she was sucking on a very bitter lemon. Anne had previously endured her not so subtle comments during class, biting back her rather insistent tongue and exchanging irritated glances with Diana. They weren’t an uncommon occurrence as it seemed Josie wasn’t the only one who enjoyed belittling Anne whenever the opportunity showed itself. Billy Andrews often had a very enjoyable time announcing that she was the ugliest dog he’d ever seen, and would then proceed to make barking sounds until he either got bored or Anne threatened to push him in the river.

So, naturally, when Josie Pye had told her explicitly that no one could do such a thing as walk a roof, and had very quickly dared her to do just that, Anne had of course jumped at the opportunity to wipe the smug grin off of her face and prove exactly what she was capable of.

A few groans and several gasps had spurred Anne on to confidently stride around the back of the school building and begin to ascend the ladder that was used for maintenance. She was only two rungs up when she heard calls from Ruby, Jane, Tillie and Diana telling her not to listen to Josie and come back down before she fell and hurt herself. Anne determinedly chose to ignore these, although she did tell Diana that if she did indeed fall to her most dramatic and possibly rather romantic death, she could have her green dress. This however didn't seem to comfort Diana at all.

She turned to grin down at Josie, admittedly wanting very much to gloat as much as she could, however Anne regretted it almost immediately and had the sudden realisation of how high up she really was. Her fingers curled harder around the rungs so that she wouldn’t loose her balance. The roof looked far taller from up there than it did on the ground.

For a few short seconds, she considered feigning illness and climbing right back down, hoping that that would be a plausible excuse and no one would mention the incident again. But she was already half way up the ladder and she'd come to the conclusion that she'd rather fall than loose all pride and dignity if she didn't pull through with her plans. With a solemn and heavy heart, she continued to climb up, rung by rung and step by step, a tingly nervous feeling pulsing in her hands and feet at the anticipation.

The ladder was slightly slippery, and Anne had trouble keeping her grip as she climbed higher and higher to the brim of the rooftop, her hands clawing at the tiles to find a grip for her to hold onto. Once she had, she heaved herself onto the roof so that her stomach lay flat on the cold surface. She could still hear the shouts and pleads from the others to come back down, but she blocked them out hastily, steadying her balance and attempting to stand up. Anne nearly slipped in doing so, holding onto the roof ridge to keep herself from falling off.

She took the time to glance around at her surroundings, making sure her eyes didn’t linger on the ground for more than a second. Her gaze had been caught on the edge of the hills, a thin strip of light brushing the silhouetted trees. For a short moment, she forgot exactly what she was doing and watched as the sun poured gold onto horizon. She was sure she could see all of Avonlea, small houses speckled around the land and the church steeple just peeking over the hills. Grinning, she felt a sudden surge of confidence at the sight, feeling as though she were the Queen, the fair and noble ruler of all land as far as the eye could see. The wind almost seemed colder up here then it did on the ground, and as Anne began to stand up again, she felt courageous and brave, as if leading on her mighty army to conquer whoever dared to harm her people.

And then reality kicked back in as she took her first step, although she maintained a steady balance her feet felt as though they could slip at any moment on the thin surface. Why did it look higher up than it did on the ground? Anne tried to focus her attention on the spot at the end, mentally counting down how many steps it would take for her to reach her goal. There was silence below her as each person held their breath. Billy had a rather nasty smile on his face, Josie seemed to be looking rather worried now that she knew the extent of what she had made Anne do, perhaps she would get in trouble if she fell. Gilbert hadn't kept his eyes off of her, trying very hard to fight the urge to shout out encouragement in fear that it would distract her and she'd fall. Diana was very close to tears, screwing up her lace handkerchief in one hand and clinging onto Ruby with the other.

Anne had made it half way across the ridge pole, a smile beginning to itch at her lips as she led her army on through the raging fires and battling winds, a purple storm stirring ominously above. When all of a sudden, her knights and soldiers had fallen away through the cracks, her stormy skies and billowing winds sucked dry from her imagination as her feet left the roof and she came tumbling and spinning down the side of the school building. It felt as though she'd been swept beneath the waves of a roaring sea, being twirled and turned by the relentless currents trying to pull her further and further down into the watery abyss.

Then she hit something. The ground she assumed. It was a very strange feeling because at first, Anne felt totally fine, slightly dazed at the most but other than that, she felt perfectly alright. Then she realised she couldn't hear very well, and there was a queer ringing in her right ear which made her feel very fuzzy. When Anne tried to open her eyes, there were about 10 blurry people who all looked like they had multiple heads sprouting from the necks, crowding around her. Everything seemed to be spinning as though someone had spun the earth like a spinning top and sent it hurtling through infinity.

"Anne!" Someone was shouting her name, and although the ringing had started to grow quieter she still couldn't make out who it was.

"Anne!" Her hands began to stroke the soft grass, it was a bit cold and rather wet but it felt nice. She'd never really fully appreciated its beauty, and she almost felt a bit guilty for leaving it out.

"Anne!" Then a very recognisable head popped in front of her face and she began to focus on what they were saying and who they were. Diana had firmly gripped onto Anne's shoulders, curls of hair falling out of its neat bow and sticking to her face. She still looked very beautiful and Anne almost felt like laughing at such a vain thing to think of whilst she seemed to be in quite the state of despair. Marilla would’ve scolded her at the thought.

“Are you alright Anne?” She seemed to be crying. “I think I’m unconscious Diana”, and Diana then let out a huge breath and allowed a smile to peak through her lips. Anne tried to sit up but another, much deeper voice told her to stay still for a moment. She tilted her head up slightly to see who it was, her eyes laying on a very concentrated Gilbert who was examining her very swollen looking ankle. Anne though it was a bit strange that she couldn’t feel anything wrong with her ankle despite the fact that it was a vivid shade of red and purple, and it appeared to have doubled in size.

“I think you’ve broken it” Gilbert grimaced, shooting a reassuring smile her way.

Anne stared at him. “Broken?!” She said with a bit too much enthusiasm “but that’ll take far too long to heal!”.

Her head seemed to be clearing and her ankle began to throb, a slightly nauseated feeling building in her stomach. Gilbert ignored her, taking her under the arm and slowly helping her stand up. Diana was staring through very red looking eyes as the other children began to disperse and whisper to each other.

“Diana can you please let Miss Stacy know that I’ve gone to help Anne home as she’s broken broken her ankle and needs assistance walking” Gilbert spoke aloud, sounding very professional and business like. Diana protested mildly, saying that she didn’t mind taking Anne herself. But Gilbert shook his head with a smile in response and swung Anne’s arm around his shoulder, holding onto her wrist to support her.

Anne, who was having a hard time trying not to enjoy the physical contact, tried to focus on the pain of her ankle as that seemed like a much better thing to do than admit any type of feelings regarding Gilbert. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to supress them. She’d been doing a very good job at it actually, and for a short while, she even concluded that they’d once and for all disappeared. Although when summer came back around and Gibert had turned up to school with eyes suddenly looking extremely green, hair looking extremely dark and curly, and a grin that could make anyone swoon, Anne had realised that she might have to try a bit harder.

Anne inhaled at the thought, drawing Gilbert’s attention who now had that very stupidly attractive grin on his face. His fingers were still clutched around her wrist, not quite daring to go any further down as his other hand hung onto the top of her waist gently, in fear of it seeming invasive. “You feeling alright? You haven’t said a word to me since we left�� he joked, limping towards the forest and out of sight of the school.

“Fine” she replied rather quickly, her breathing slightly heavier than normal.

“I can take another look at if you lik-", “No no! Its fine- im fine, dont worry, just keep going” Gilbert frowned inwardly, but consequently decided that it was best not to try and persuade her. He knew as well as anybody that she had a temper to match her hair, and shortly concluded that he did indeed enjoy being liked by Anne, so he didn't push the topic any further.

Then a silence fell between them like the first leaves of autumn, rich and serene in the subtle hues of sunlight streaming through the canopy of branches above. Gilbert thought that he quite enjoyed being with Anne, even when she wasn't talking. He'd occasionally make short glances in her direction to see if she was okay, secretly enjoying the feeling of his skin on hers. Anne also enjoyed being with Gilbert, even without the conversation. If it were up to her, she would be relishing in the bliss of such a beautiful day, with the thick ivy cascading down friendly trees and the smiling faces of yellow and orange flowers greeting her as she moved past. But alas, her brain had other ideas.

On one hand she was thinking about how much her ankle was now beginning to painfully throb, and on the other she was thinking about how she could get out of the predicament that she had found herself in. She knew Ruby would not be happy if she could see Anne now, and Anne much preferred being friends with Ruby than letting her mind wander to people it shouldn't be wandering to. Although she couldn't help but notice the light trace his fingers left, making her tug at her sleeve nervously and subtly shake her head to try and dissolve the tempting feeling it gave her.

It almost felt like when a cold spring breeze passes through the forest trees and whistles gently to you, the soft wind caressing your cheek and leaving you flushed, feeling as though it had breathed new life into you. But then again, she thought, it wasn't cold like those mornings of dew and freshly grown flowers, it was warm like the midsummer nights. When the air was still and stars painted graceful hues of silver in the purple ecstasy of night, the smell of slightly dried wheat soaking through the soil. Skin slightly sticky from the water she'd allowed herself to slip into when she thought no one was watching, just to allow the cool ripples to lap at her neck whilst still maintaining a strong grip onto the river bank beside her.

Anne made a mental note to jot that down as idea for her new story.

She thought of making conversation so as to distract her from this new and unknown feeling, but had reservations as part of her thought that that might just make the whole situation a lot worse. Anne was surprised that Gilbert couldn't hear her thoughts as they seemed to be exerting as much volume as possible, each one trying to be louder than the next to catch her extremely divided attention.

Maybe he had however because he began to slow down and head towards a slightly damp looking tree stump in the middle of a small clearing, setting Anne down with care and allowing his hands to reluctantly fall from around her. He stayed quiet for a moment, breathing in the autumn air slowly, as though prolonging his very persistent question. Anne had already averted her eyes, choosing to stare at a fallen birch leaf which glowed a rather beautiful shade of gold, as though it had been dipped in treasure.

She knew she couldn't avoid his gaze for long but thought it was best to try and drag it out for as long as possible. She'd been doing rather well at it too, as Gilbert had already said her name three times before asking her something which managed to raise her head at a surprising speed.

"Are we friends?", he'd said, smiling as though she had said a joke, although letting it flicker and drop as he watched her blink in response.

Anne didn't answer, trying to see where she'd gone wrong in order for him to think that they weren't. She thought that perhaps she'd said or done something which seemed impertinent, or came across the wrong way.

"Gilbert th-" she stuttered momentarily. She wasn't particularly used to not knowing what to say. "Gilbert of course we are", her teeth began to nip at her lip nervously, wondering how exactly she could answer without slipping up and revealing too much.

He looked up at her slowly, allowing his gaze to travel up from her buckled black boots to the tips of her red braids. In the soft sun rays which filtered onto her face, her hair seemed to glow like fire, her eyes alight with the burning flames and her skin iridescent from the warm orange light. Gilbert thought that he quite liked looking at her like this, he could definitely get used to it.

"Gil I never mean to be rude or to ignore you, I certainly dont want you thinking that I dislike you. Its just difficult for me to be close friends with you because of wh-" and then Anne stopped herself with a sharp intake of breath. She knew Ruby would never forgive her if Gilbert found out about how Ruby 'had dibs'. Not that she wanted 'dibs' of course (although she internally smiled at the prospect); besides she's thought, Gilbert wasn't an object or an animal that she could claim her own.

Gilbert's ears had pricked up, his attention more focused on the words spilling from her lips rather than just her lips.

"Because of what? What do you mean?", he moved closer, rising slightly so that their heads were level.

"Im sorry but I can't say, it would be an injustice and I swore I wouldn't tell" Anne replied stubbornly, beginning to regain confidence at the thought of her friends.

"Oh how honourable of you" he grinned lightly, pulling at his sleeves so he could distract himself from the smile that was playing at the corners of Anne's mouth.

"Well I believe no less would be expected from Princess Cordelia", and now Gilbert was really grinning, and Anne was having trouble controlling her heart rate and the way her stomach would twist and flip at the sight of him.

There was a thread of light lacing itself across his face, weaving from the top of his right temple, down through his eye, across the bridge his nose and barely brushing the edge of his lips, finishing just on the line of his jaw with a golden pigment. She noticed the the way the slice of sunlight illuminated the green of his irises, reminding her of the lush green forests that were flush with dark wood and glistening leaves that she so often read about in books. Freckles lightly speckled and painted across his pink cheeks and nose, something she hadn't quite realised were there before. His lips red and soft looking, quirking upwards and exposing his teeth. His hair lay touched by soft shadows, each strand curling and winding as a few hung limp over his forehead. Anne quite liked his curls. Gilberts smile had began to fade, leaving behind a mellow expression on his face which looked so tender, and so kind that Anne was surprised that she hadn't melted into oblivion right then and there.

"I really am sorry Gil, I never meant to upset you", but he shook his head and blinked up at her, stretching out his fingers to push back a few strands of scarlet hair. As his skin touched hers almost torturously slow, he breathed in how soft it was, how warm she felt, how the contact could make the hairs on his neck stand on end and his heart skip what must've been at least several beats.

Anne thought it was a very peculiar feeling to suddenly have all of the breath sucked dry from her lungs, and to have feel each pound of her pulse as though it was a huge drum. It was such an extreme reaction compared to how lightly his fingers were brushing her cheek and neck, as if he were cautiously trying to touch a growling tiger that was ready to pounce at any given moment. They lingered on her jaw, his gaze flicking so quickly and so subtly to her lips that Anne was barely convinced that she saw it all.

"We should get going I suppose", he said quietly as though he didn't quite mean it, eyes still firmly focused on the redhead in front of him. "I suppose so" she replied with the same reluctance to avert her gaze.

So they watched each other for the few short seconds of hesitation. Taking in the angles of each others cheek bones and the spindles of light which so delicately embroiled itself into their iris's. Still focusing on the feeling of where they had touched, as though it had left a physical mark for them to see. Gilbert stood up slowly with a crunch of dry leaves beneath his feet. He held out his hand for her, pulling her arm around his neck once she had a solid grip, before looping his own arm around her torso and steadily walking as one down the crisp golden path.

"So 'Gil' huh?" he grinned lightly, allowing his fingers (which had gripped her wrist to help support her) to slip down to hers.

"Well I suppose that if you've given me a nickname, you should have one too" Anne replied quickly, her face turning a dark shade of pink. "Not that I particularly like my nickname, you really should come up with a better one"

"What?" he smiled, not noticing the small orange leaf which had just floated onto his shoulder "Carrots isn't good enough for you?".

She glared at him, allowing his fingers to gently lace between hers. "Its not very imaginative Gilbert, you could've at least been much more creative if you were going to mock me".

"Oh but carrots really does suit you, it'd be a shame to change something so good"

"I would've thought someone of your intellect couldn't possibly be so small minded, as to come up with the almost insultingly dim nickname of carrots. Something like... oh I don't know, 'rusty outhouse', would be much more subtitle".

It was many moments before Gilbert could regain his composure after that, he had to lean on a tree so that both himself and Anne wouldn't go toppling to the floor. All the while his fingers were still curled around hers tightly, eyes smiling wider than his lips and looking at her a though he would never stop. She quite liked that idea.

"Anne, you really are something else" he exhaled, only moments after he caught back his breath.

"Well you know I should hope so, how boring it would be to be plain and normal", she faltered slightly, "I mean personality wise, if we were talking about looks than I'm afraid to say I am far from interesting or beautiful, but I suppose you can't have everything in life".

Anne was grinning as though they were still joking around, and hadn't seemed to notice that Gilbert was no longer smiling. He could see green gables coming into view and knew that they had little time left, so very spontaneously, and almost as though his lips were leading him, he spoke the first thing that came to mind.

"If you want my opinion Anne, I think you're incredible. Im sure you can come up with a better word than I can as you have previously pointed out, but I think you look exquisite", and with that, Gilbert Blythe raised his chin confidently and tried to concentrate on anything but Anne incase that would stop her from noticing just how red his face was turning.

He didn't say anything else, only allowing his fingers to break free from hers, and instead gently fold them around her forearm which he deemed was probably more appropriate. She looked right at him, very ready to harshly berate him and potentially whack him over the head with a fallen tree branch - but she couldn't do it. Instead she could feel the heat from his skin and the fire from his eyes which were hooded with shadow. And she could smell the fresh pine needles beneath her feet which played so well with the sunken smoke in his coat and the sweet scent of toffee which seemed to follow him everywhere. And there was that constant lurch in the pit of her stomach which reminded her so vividly of when she fell from the roof ridge, but this time, she wasn't afraid of it.

Green Gables really was very close, the trees began to get thinner and thinner and Anne could see the clearing to the farm within a few metres of them. So, she did something rash.

Quickly, so quickly Gilbert wasn't even sure if it happened, she kissed his cheek.

"No," Anne was watching his eyes closely, her lips curling ever so slightly at the edges, "'exquisite' sounds perfect".

#anne of green gables #anne with an e #anne shirley #gilbert blythe #anne x gilbert #shirbert #fluff #anne and gilbert #Josie be wildin

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thetravelerwrites · 6 years ago

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A New Generation (Pt. 2)

Rating: Teen Fandom: 魔法使いの嫁 | Mahou Tsukai no Yome | The Ancient Magus Bride Relationships: Hatori Chise x Elias Ainsworth Characters: Elias Ainsworth, Hatori Chise, Chise Hatori, Silver Lady, Silkie, Ruth, Titania, Oberon, Shannon, Stella Barklem, Angelica Burley, David Burley, Althea Burley, Lindel | Lindenbaum, Merituuli Trigger Warnings: Pregnancy, Childbirth, Babies, Infants, Depression, Anxiety, Discrimination, Unplanned Pregnancy, Abandonment, References to Abuse, References to Abandonment, References to Child Murder Words: 8551

As Chise's pregnancy progresses, Elias is consumed with worry that his child will be rejected by both fae and humans, as he had been. Chise struggles with the fear that she might abandon or harm her own children, as her parents did.

When Elias returned home from London, he sat down with Chise and had a very long, solemn conversation with her about the pregnancy, and for the first time, they talked about a future that also involved their child. Or children, if Chise was correct in her belief that there were two.

He told her about going to speak with Lindel, Simon, and Angelica and what their advice had been. Like him, Chise found Angelica’s tale the most consoling. Knowing that the artificer had felt similar apprehension about procreating helped Chise feel less isolated.

Calling Angelica and talking to her at length also did much to improve Chise’s disposition, not just about Chise’s ability to parent but also about the pregnancy itself. It didn’t cure her of her worries, but having someone to talk to who knew exactly what she was going through was a great comfort to her.

Finally managing to convince Elias to install a landline in the house had been a pretty recent accomplishment. He fought this "modern indulgence" for quite a long time, but when he finally understood that it meant she didn’t have to walk to town to use the public phone every other day, he was more open to the idea, especially since walking long distances was going to become rather difficult for her as time went on. The noise the device made was annoying, but seeing her smile when she answered it was enough to keep him from being too bothered by the sound.

The change in her mood greatly eased Elias’s mind. Watching Chise spiral into a deep, black pit of terror and depression was difficult for him to bear, especially given there was little he could on his own to improve it. As much as he wanted to help her, he had eventually come to understand that sometimes people could only find solace in others who’d had comparable experiences. This was just not his ken, so it was better left to those suited to the task.

He tried to quash his own fears for her sake, but she knew him too well to let him get away with keeping those thoughts to himself. At night, before they slept, she would talk to him; just talk, not expecting him to respond if he wasn’t in the mood to do so, and it helped him. Hearing the sudden shift in her voice from cold despair to tentative hope had done much to alleviate his woes. She encouraged him to be honest with her about what he felt, but didn’t push him to talk if he didn’t want to. More often than not, though, he would. They would lay bear their worries to each other and try to find the bright side. They were both still afraid, but they were facing that fear together.

And it helped.

Summer was in full swing, and Elias was twice as busy as normal now that Chise was limited as to what she could do. He didn’t grumble about it much; after all, he had done everything himself before she had come along. But they had become a well-coordinated, efficient team over the years and he had come to treasure her reserved, supportive assistance in all things, whether practical or magical. He rather missed working in tandem with her.

Though she was no longer allowed to do any of her normal seasonal chores beyond a little light weeding and watering, she would often sit in the garden with him as he worked and help whenever she could, not content with staying in bed all day like an invalid. Besides, having Chise within Elias’s sight and hearing was good for his heart and mind.

Ruth spent his time keeping a close, watchful eye on her, reporting any physical ills that Chise might keep to herself to Elias. As long as she was at rest, though, they were happy enough.

Late one night, he walked into their bedroom to prepare for sleep and found her naked in front of a mirror, standing to the side, looking down at her belly.

“What are you doing?” He asked curiously.

“Look at my stomach,” She said, her hands gently probing her lower abdomen. “It’s bigger. And it’s hard, too. Feel.”

Elias came close and laid his hand on her stomach. It was indeed hardened, as though she had swallowed a large stone, and there was a swelling between her hips; not big, but definitely noticeable.

And perhaps he imagined it, but he thought he felt a strange swirl of energy embedded there underneath the flesh and muscle, lodged deep in her body. No, two swirls. Perhaps Chise’s instinct was more credible than he first thought.

“Hmm,” He said. “Why is that?”

“Angelica says the uterus thickens and becomes more solid to protect the fetuses,” She said, reaching for a book on her nightstand. “It says so in this, too. Alice sent it to me. I told her about the babies, by the way, but I swore her to secrecy. I haven’t told Stella yet, but she’s busy at university and I didn’t want to bother her during finals.”

Elias bent to peer at the book. “What is it?”

She flipped through the rather large paperback volume. “It’s a book about pregnancy and birth. It’s actually pretty informative. So many things make sense now.”

“May I read it, then?” He asked. “There is much I still need to learn. I have a distinct dearth of knowledge about this particular subject and I feel compelled to rectify that.”

“Sure,” she said, handing it to him. “I’ve read up to the third trimester, so I won’t need it for a little while. I hope it helps.”

In some ways it did, and in others it didn’t. During gestation, he learned, the woman’s body produces excess blood to carry extra oxygen to the baby, which in turn causes the mother’s heart rate to accelerate for the duration of the pregnancy, which in turn causes her core temperature to rise. That explained that part, at least.

But other aspects of pregnancy and childbirth were, to put it mildly, horrifying. Things like nosebleeds, strange cravings, extreme mood swings, increased sex drive, swelling of the extremities, sudden hair growth or hair loss, violent fits of vomiting that lasted for months, soreness almost everywhere, food aversions, heighten sensitivity of smell, touch, and taste… the list of physical oddities was extensive. Bones would often be pushed out of the way and change position to compensate for the growing child, sometimes even fracturing or breaking in the process. And all of this was considered normal.

And those were just minor possible symptoms. The more severe ones were downright ghastly. There was no end of ways that it could go wrong, no end to the possible damage to the mother, no end to the ways the child could be born ill or malformed, and that was just for regular, non-magical children. There was no telling what kind of ailments could befall the child of two mages, especially if both parents were cursed.

And the descriptions of the birthing process itself, including the many, many things that could go awry, was nothing short of nauseating. Several times, he had to shut the book and put it aside for a while, appalled at what he learned. He hated to admit it, but sometimes knowledge for knowledge’s sake wasn’t always a good thing.

Once the first physical changes had begun, time seemed to speed up. Chise’s body changed rapidly, her stomach growing larger every day to carry the new life safely. She seemed especially breakable these days, and Elias couldn’t help being even more protective than he had been before.

For years before he had bought Chise, nothing had changed. Things went on as they always had, and it was as comfortable as it was dull. Then, once he met her, things changed, but it was a slow change. Even though things happened that never had before, it came at a pace he could understand and absorb.

Now, everything was new and happening too fast for him to process, and he was trying his best to keep up. He did not adapt well to change.

One afternoon in late July, while Chise was having her afternoon nap, Elias awoke her with a touch to her cheek.

“I’m sorry to wake you, Little Bird,” He said softly. “But there is a guest downstairs who has come a long way to see you. Are you feeling up to greeting them?”

She smiled. “Sure.”

Downstairs, she saw a tallish, pale man standing in their sitting room in modern clothes, looking around the room curiously. His blonde hair was separated into two bunches and hung over his shoulders. The the pupils of his bright blue eyes were slits, like that of a wild predator.

“Lindel!” Chise exclaimed in surprise.

When he saw her enter the room, a wide smile split his face. “It’s good to see you, my daughter,” He said, his arms open toward her.

She rushed forward to give him a hug. “What are you doing here? The dragons--”

“Can survive me being gone for an hour or two. Besides, Merituuli is to inform me right away if anything should happen while I’m here. I haven’t heard from you in a while and I wanted to check on you.” He held her at arms length and looked at her belly. “You’re coming along rather quickly, aren’t you? I sense very strong life essences brewing in there. Your offspring will be incredibly powerful mages. I can’t wait to meet my grandchildren; you must bring them to the aerie once they’ve been born.”

“More than one?” Chise asked.

“Oh, yes,” Lindel replied. “Two separate, distinct energies, hale and healthy, growing well.”

“Ha,” Chise said quietly. “I knew it.”

“Now,” He took her hand and hooked it around his arm. “Why don’t you give me a tour and tell me all about your preparations for the little ones? I’ve never actually been to Thorn’s home, you know. The ungrateful brat has never so much as extended an invitation.”

Elias sniffed slightly and sat in his chair, picking up a book he must have been reading before Lindel arrived.

“Of course,” She said, turning. Silver was looking in shyly from the kitchen, where Ruth was having a snack. “This is Silver Lady. She’s a neighbor who runs the house and looks after us. She’s been a big help to me.”

Lindel bowed. “A pleasure.”

Maybe it was Chise’s imagination, but she could have sworn Silver blushed.

“Good to see you again, Ruth,” Lindel said pleasantly. “Keeping a sharp eye on our favorite girl, are you?”

“Of course,” Ruth said. “She’s been getting plenty of rest, but she’s not eating as much as I’d prefer.”

Chise sighed heavily. “Elias’s fussing is bad enough, but having a fae nanny breathing down my neck all day is really irritating.”

Lindel laughed softly. “I would imagine so.”

Chise showed him her old room upstairs with Ruth trailing behind, where Silver had surprised her one day by converting it into a nursery. Silver, at least, seemed very excited about the new additions to the family and was going to extraordinary lengths to make sure the house was ready for their arrival.

The brand-new cupboards were stacked with blankets and swaddling and dressing gowns and cloth diapers, all handmade by Silver. There were double changing tables and bassinets, set side by side, and even a rocking chair next to the window. Chise had no idea where all the new furniture had even come from. Silver had used neutral colors to decorate the room: a mix of light and dark browns and soft purples and blues. The walls had been painted with a mural of wildflowers and trees, and the floor was plush grass-green carpet, as though the room was outside in a meadow. It was beautiful. Chise had cried and hugged Silver for quite a while when Silver presented it to her.

Ah, mood swings.

Elias had not been prepared for these emotional outbursts and, quite frankly, neither had Chise. She’d go from really happy to really sad to really annoyed all in the span of a few minutes. It was rather dizzying for the both of them. Ruth tried to warn Elias when they were coming, but he couldn’t always tell, so they were often blindsided by a sudden explosion of emotion that even Chise didn’t always understand. He supposed there was some comfort to be found in the fact that she was just as confused as he was.

Chise showed Lindel Elias’s study, and her workroom beyond where she practiced her spellcraft, and then decided to take a break in the garden. Lindel sat with Chise, talking animatedly about the baby dragons and happily eating Silver’s sandwiches and cakes. It was probably a nice change from stew. He even coaxed a song from Chise, one he had taught her in Icelandic about a hungry raven that slept beneath rock rifts. She had missed singing with him.

The sound of their voices raised in song brought Elias out to join them. He hadn’t heard her sing in some time and was pleased to hear it. She only sang when she was in a good mood. The resonance of their voices made the trees stand straighter, the flowers bloom brighter, and the sunlight shine gently upon them without being overpowering. When Lindel and Chise worked together, everything they touched was magic. Elias couldn’t help but be a little jealous of that.

The visit was a splendid one that did much to brighten Chise’s spirit. Before long, Lindel felt the aerie calling his heart home and left Chise with a hug and well-wishes. He even shook Elias’s hand.

Lindel snapped and sparked and was gone in a flurry of snow and cinders. Chise was sorry to see him go. She really felt as though Lindel was a surrogate father. When he called her his daughter, there had been weight to it. He genuinely meant it.

Chise made to go inside, but Elias took her by the hand to stop her, looking off into the woods.

“I believe we may have further visitors,” He said, taking his veil and flinging it over his face. He pointed to the treeline.

There, almost invisible under the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, stood a fae woman of indescribable beauty. Her black hair trailed behind her and brushed the ground as she walked, and her skin was as smooth as the petals of a lily. Her eyes, the colors of which shifted as though iridescent, were locked on Chise from where she stood motionless in the shadow. How long she had been there, no one could say, but her attention was on Chise and nothing else.

“Lady Titania,” Chise breathed.

As though summoned, Titania stepped out of the shelter of trees and began to walk toward them. Spriggan stepped out of her shadow, the gold rings adorning his staff jingling as he walked. He looked as surly as ever.

“My dear, sweet robin,” Titania said, holding her arms out to Chise and she stepped forward. “Oh! Isn’t it so wonderful!”

“I assume the little folk have informed you of Chise’s condition,” Elias said.

“Oh,yes, my child. I can’t tell you how pleased I am! Oberon is beside himself.” She glanced back to the forest’s edge. Chise and Elias followed her gaze to see Oberon running to and fro, giggling like a child and throwing flowers into the air. Chise laughed softly and shook her head.

Titania returned her attention to Chise and touched her hand to Chise’s belly. “Look how far along you are! I must say, though, I am terribly put out that you hid it from us for so long.”

“I’m sorry,” Chise said. “I… it’s been… difficult.”

Titania took her face in her hands. “Poor child,” She said. “Do not despair. This is a blessing. What a wondrous gift it is to be mortal. The fae do not breed well with each other and as such, our children are rare. That’s why there are so many old tales among mortals about halflings, though such things are far less likely in this millenia.” Her gaze brushed across Elias’s tall form briefly. “I suppose it’s how your race proliferates so effectively. You’re like rabbits, in that way.” She giggled.

“Oh, what a wonderful turn of fate!” Oberon crooned gleefully, skipping around the group of them. “I can’t wait to see the new little mages. Is there any chance at all they’ll be blonde? Oh, nevermind, they’ll be adorable either way!”

“Titania,” Elias started, ignoring Oberon as he pranced around them, laying a flower crown on Chise’s head. “You have the gift of foresight. Can you…” He paused, clutching the fabric of his shirt over his chest, as though in pain. “Is there any way to tell… that is to say…” He stumbled to a stop.

“Elias,” Titania said kindly. “Ask your question plainly, and I shall answer as best as I can.”

Elias sighed. “The children… our children… will they be… like me? Half-creatures, hated and shunned for the sin of merely being alive in a world where they do not belong?”

Chise’s heart bled for him. It must have quite a blow to his pride to ask that question. She knew he’d never admit it to anyone, not even her, but the constant reminder that he was neither one or the other was something that caused him perpetual grief. The idea that he was terrified his own children would share this fate made Chise’s heart ache. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it consolingly.

“Oh, Thorn,” Titania said sadly. “I see branches; roads that split and diverge like serpents in the sea of potentiality. I see many possibilities, though some are more likely than others. I cannot give you a solid answer because the paths are still many and multiplying. I cannot tell you for certain what will be.” She laid a hand on his chest and smiled. “But would you like to know what I feel?”

He nodded, apprehensive.

“I feel love and joy,” She said. “I hear laughter echoing within the walls of this dwelling. Your children will have fragments of their father residing in them, as all children do, but they will have the protection and favor of all who love them. And there will be many who love them. They are blessed by the Queen of the Fae herself, and my blessing is no paltry trinket.”

“Titania, I…” Elias said, unable to continue.

Oberon slid over to his wife and winked at her, a wide smile on his face. He then turned to Elias.

“Do not fret, thorn child,” He said. “However tainted your lineage may be, you are still one of us, and your bride is beloved by our kind. Your children, then, will be doubly revered by all fae. You have no cause to worry.”

“Thank you. That is… very comforting,” He replied, though his tone said to Chise that he was still rather troubled.

Chise endured another few minutes of Titania and Oberon’s doting before they decided to depart. She felt rather relieved when they left. They could be a lot to handle all at once.

That night, lying in bed with Elias, the question he had asked the Faerie Queen revolved over and over in her mind.

“Elias?” She asked softly, trying not to wake Ruth. “Are you still awake?”

She couldn’t see his pupils, but he did answer. “Yes.”

She lay her hand on the back of his neck and stroked it. “Are you really worried about how the children will turn out?”

Elias sighed. “It does not matter to me what they will look like,” He said somberly. “But it will matter to humans. Experience has taught me well that mankind does not adapt quickly to things that are strange or unusual.” He turned his head to look at her. “The fae will not care about their appearance, either, but they will see them as my children, spawn of the halfling failure. That alone may be enough to draw the ire of the fae against them, despite what Titania and Oberon said. Those two have never failed in their kindness to me, but it is borne out of pity, not respect, and the rest of the fae are not so magnanimous. Some are indifferent to me, but most, like the Spriggan, are openly hostile. I do not wish for my children to suffer because of who their father is.”

“Oh, Elias,” Chise said, holding him close. “I wish I could--Oh!” Chise sat up abruptly, pulling the covers down and placing both hands on her belly.

“What?” He asked in alarm, turning to sit up. “What is it? Are you alright?”

“I felt them.”

“You did?” He asked.

“Yes,” She said, moving her hands around gingerly. “I felt a thumping on the inside. I felt some flutters before, but I was never sure what they were. That was definitely a kick.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, looking at her abdomen.

In response, she took his hand and laid it down on her stomach, instructing him to wait. He did so, and it took nearly five minutes, but there was a distinct nudge against his hand.

Chise looked up and smiled at him, but his heart was in his throat. He couldn’t decide if he was excited or panicked. Talking about the baby, seeing her belly expand, making preparations: for some reason, none of that made it feel real. But this did. Feeling the tiny movements of the child on his own skin from the inside of her body was what made it reality to him.

“We should call on Shannon tomorrow,” Chise said. “I’m twenty weeks. It’s about time for a check-up.”

“Y-yes,” He said vaguely. “Of course.”

She took his face in her hands. “Are you all right?”

“I do not know,” He answered honestly. “I am… frightened.”

“I know,” She said. She laid her forehead on his.

They stayed that way for many minutes, their foreheads touching, his hand on her belly, feeling the little jumps and thumps of his children moving about inside. Frightened was not an adequate word for what he felt. He didn’t know if there was a word strong enough.

Time seemed to move very fast for a while, and then suddenly slowed to a snail’s pace. Before they knew it, it was winter. Chise had grown very large, and Shannon expected the babies to come a few days after the new year.

Chise kept to the house exclusively now, since moving was more difficult, not to mention that Elias was highly paranoid about her catching an illness in her condition. She spent much of the time nesting, which is an instinctual habit among mothers-to-be to make sure everything was in its proper place and perfect. Silver had taken care of most of that for her, but it didn’t stop Chise from folding and refolding all of the babies’ linens and making sure things were just so.

As the time for the birth came closer, the atmosphere of the house grew more and more anxious. Chise was rather sick of being pregnant and was ready to be able to stand without assistance and not eat what felt like half her body weight every day. Ruth was restless and impatient. He could feel the time getting closer just as acutely as Chise did.

If Chise was anxious and Ruth was restless, Elias was downright terrified. He spent a lot of time alone in his study, unable to control this emotion. He didn’t want to worry her more than she already was, but he couldn’t push away the awful feeling of dread.

He had slowly grown accustomed to the idea of the children, but not the possibility that they would take after him. The idea that they could be subjected to cruelty and discrimination for simply being his children made his blood run cold. How could he protect them against that kind of hatred? How could he shield them from the animosity of both humans and fae? He could weather it just fine; he was used to it, and some of it was deserved. He had once been a monster, after all. But they would be innocent and guileless. They didn’t deserve to be treated as he had been.

As much as he tried to hide his worry from Chise, he knew she felt it. He could see it on her face when she looked at him sometimes. It wasn’t pity that she showed him, but empathy. If anyone would understand, it would be her, but this was just one thing he couldn’t talk to her about. She always tried to soothe him and tell him things would be fine, but she had no way of knowing that for certain. Blind optimism just didn’t work for him.

Very late on the night before Christmas eve, a sharp yelp of pain woke Elias from sleep. It had been Ruth: he had bounced out of his bed and shot to Chise’s side, immediately switching to his human form. Chise was sitting curled around her stomach, gasping.

“Chise?” Elias asked.

“I think my water broke,” Chise gasped. “I’ve been having contractions, but they weren’t bad until now. We need Shannon.”

“Shannon! Silver!” Elias called.

A flash shot through the room. Elias turned on the lamp and found Shannon standing next to Chise, trying to pull her to her feet. The silky came through the door in an instant, a tub of hot water and many towels in her hands. It was almost as if she were waiting for the call.

Shannon had Chise sit on a wooden chair with a curved back, urging her to recline with her pelvis tilted out, putting a pillow behind her to support her back. Silver helped Chise out of her underwear and flipped the hem of her nightgown up over her stomach, exposing her entire lower half. Chise didn’t have the wherewithal to be embarrassed about her tender bits out for the entire room to see. The pain was pushing everything else out of her brain.

“Is it supposed to hurt this much?” Ruth gasped, his arms wrapped around his stomach.

“There are two living creatures the size of watermelons attempting to tear their way out of her body, Ruth. Yeah, it’s gonna hurt,” Shannon said dryly.

“Sorry, Ruth,” Chise said, breathing heavily. “I’m trying to block it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ruth said. “I don’t really care about me right now.”

“What can I do?” Elias asked anxiously.

“You and Ruth, get on either side. Both of you hold her hand with one of yours and then let her use your other hand to brace her feet on. She’s going to need the leverage when she starts pushing.”

Elias and Ruth, took their positions. Chise had already begun to sweat profusely and was breathing shallowly. Silver stood at her head, stroking her hair gently and ready with a cloth to wipe her brow.

“Deep breaths, Chise,” Shannon said, kneeling on the ground and pushing a gloved hand into Chise’s body to gauge her dilation. “Nine centimeters,” Shannon said, removing her hand. “Not quiet ready yet, but it’s going to be soon.”

Chise could only nod, attempting with little success to take deep breaths as she was instructed. Her head rolled to look at Elias with fear in her eyes.

“It’s too early,” She said in a terrified whisper. “I’m not due for another three weeks.”

“It’s all right,” Elias whispered, knowing he might be lying. “It will be all right.”

Chise had no choice but to wait until her body opened up enough to start pushing, and it took a few long, miserable hours of pain and sweating. By the time Shannon got into position, it was only an hour before dawn.

“Okay,” Shannon said. “Elias, Ruth, take one foot each and push it toward her chest, but not forcefully. Chise, take several deep breaths. When I say, take a very deep breath, hold it, and start pushing. When I count to ten, you can let go and breath again. Understand?”

Chise nodded, already very tired from the waves of pain she had been suffering over the past few hours. She steeled herself and began to take slow, deep breaths.

“Ready? Okay, deep, deep breath and push!”

Chise pulled in as much air as her lungs could take and held it, bracing her legs against Ruth and Elias’s grip, and pushed with all her might, her face pulled back in a grimace of pain and exertion.

“One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten, and breathe,” Shannon instructed. Chise blew out her breath explosively and gulped in air.

“Okay, again. Deep breath, and push!”

It went on like this for quite a time. They only paused the pushing for Chise to drink water and for Silver to wipe the sweat from her face and neck. Elias talked in Chise’s ear during these brief moments of rest, telling her that she was strong and that he had faith in her. She seemed so tired, but she smiled at him and dotted a kiss on his nose in reply.

Finally, as the first rays of sunlight shone through the window, Shannon pulled a small, reddish-purple infant from Chise’s body. It shrieked as it took it’s first breaths of life, it’s color changing as it took in oxygen. Shannon placed the sticky ball of outrage on Chise’s chest for a moment, allowing the new mother to inspect the little creature for herself while Shannon detached the umbilical cord.

“It’s a baby girl,” Shannon said, smiling.

Chise let go of Ruth and Elias and wrapped her fingers around the tiny thing as it screamed it’s fury at them all. Chise was crying, too, but not in anger. Her face, red and sweaty though it was, lit with joy as she held her newborn daughter.

Suddenly, she seized up with a sudden contraction and hissed with pain. The baby was whisked out of her arms by Silver, who took it to a nearby dressing table to clean it.

“We’re halfway there,” Shannon said. “Let’s get ready. On the next contraction, we start the pushing again.”

Chise nodded, letting Ruth and Elias take hold of her feet and push them back.

Once the first baby was out, the second wasn’t far behind. It wailed more loudly than it’s twin, thrashing about angrily on Chise’s chest, though Chise clearly didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s another little girl,” Shannon said with a grin.

Tears poured from Chise’s eyes as she held her daughter, gasping from the effort of pushing. The touch of her mother’s hands had calmed the baby and she was no longer writhing spastically, but wiggling and making little grunting sounds, lying on her belly in Chise’s grasp.

After a moment, this child, too, was taken away for cleaning. Then there was more work to be done. The afterbirth had to be removed from Chise’s body, which caused a small fountain of blood to escape. Elias and Ruth panicked, but Shannon said this could happen sometimes and it wasn’t serious as long as it was contained quickly. She gave Chise a tea that would help stop the bleeding and once she had finished it, Silver lifted Chise as if she weighed nothing and took her to the bathroom for a proper cleaning. Shannon followed, leaving Ruth and Elias alone with the newborns, lying side by side and safely bundled up in the crib near Chise’s side of the bed.

While she was gone, Ruth went to inspect the babies up close. “Elias,” He called to the mage, who was still sitting in a daze. “Come and see.”

Elias stood with his heart pounding in his chest and walked to stand by Ruth, looking down at his brand new daughters with a lump in his throat. Now that they were cleaned, he could see them better. They were still wiggly and wrinkly, but there were distinct differences between the twins. One had a full head of white-blonde hair and a peachy-pink complexion, while the other had fine red fuzz on her head and was as pale as bleached bone.

“I remember the day that Isabelle was born,” Ruth said solemnly, lost in his memory. “I had only been with the family for a few months and I didn’t quite understand what was happening at the time. I didn’t know what a baby was. She was so tiny and weird-looking, but I loved her right away. We were together all the time after that. I existed for her; I’d have done anything for her.”

He stared down at the two sleeping infants, his eyes dark with recollection. “I took it for granted, thinking she’d always be there. I didn’t see the dangers until it was too late. I should have done more to protect her. If I had been a better brother, she might have lived a long, happy life. I didn’t do enough, and she died.” He reached out but stopped just short of touching the one with red hair. “For them, I’ll do better. I’ll be better. I promise.”

Elias did not respond. He stared down at his sleeping girls rather blankly.

Yes, He thought to himself. I, too, must be better.

Silver and Shannon returned with Chise, clean, wearing a fresh nightgown, and remarkably able to walk unassisted. Elias helped ease her back into the freshly changed bed, then Shannon handed Chise the white-haired baby girl. Shannon insisted that Chise try to breastfeed the baby, as it would help promote clotting. Silver went to work cleaning the gory aftermath off of the floor. Ruth, as a grim, sniffed each child keenly with his tail wagging.

It took a few tries and some urging to get the baby to latch to her breast; apparently babies weren’t born knowing how to do this and had to be taught, but once she found her way, she seemed to be content and fell asleep while feeding, her tiny arm resting on Chise’s skin. Elias watched curiously.

“You probably won’t be able to produce enough milk to fill both babies at the same time, so you might want to supplement with formula. You may even decide to go formula exclusively, which is fine. As long as they get the enzymes from your breastmilk at the start, it’ll be a big boost to their immune systems.”

Chise nodded without looking up, absorbed in the tiny little girl at her breast with it’s little fist around Chise’s finger. She seemed to finish quickly, and Chise lifted the baby for Elias to hold.

“Chise…” He said nervously. “I don’t… I can’t… I don’t think…”

“It’s okay, Elias,” Chise said with a smile. “You’re going to have to hold them at some point. Might as well be now.”

“Just remember to support the head,” Shannon said. “The neck muscles are underdeveloped.”

“Here,” She sat up and, holding the baby in one arm, used her hand to make a cradle of his. “Like this.”

Exercising more care than he ever had in his entire existence, he took the tiny bundle into his arms, cradling it gently. He could feel the warmth of it’s little body through the blankets, as though he were holding a glowing coal. He lifted her up so he could inspect her more closely. As he did so, she opened her eyes for the first time and looked up at him. Her eyes were the color of evergreens, like her mother. But unlike her, the pupils were not round but slits, like that of a wild creature. The eyes of a fae. The eyes of a mage.

“Chise, look,” Elias said, bending to show her. Chise, who had taken the red-haired babe and was feeding her from the other breast, peered at the child Elias held and smiled. Her smile faded and her eyes narrowed curiously.

“What is it?” Elias asked.

“Look at her head, a little bit above the hairline. There’s a bump. No, there’s two, one on either side. Do you see them?”

Elias brought the baby close to his face, examining her closely. There was, indeed, some sort of bump there. Carefully readjusting his grip, he felt the bumps with his finger. They felt like… bone? No, not bone…

“Horns,” Elias said softly. “She has horns.”

Chise laughed softly, her eyes warm with affection. “You certainly can’t deny she’s yours, can you?”

He looked down at her, a new warmth spreading though his chest. “No…” He said. “I cannot.”

“Have you decided on names?” Shannon asked, sitting on the other side, monitoring the mother and her little ones closely.

Elias was taken aback. It wasn’t something he had even thought about. He’d been so preoccupied with his doubts and fears that he hadn’t room to think of anything else.

“It is Christmas Eve,” Chise said, looking out of the snow covered windows. She looked at the little redhead, sleeping peacefully in her arms. “Her hair reminds me of holly berries, so why don’t we call her Holly?” She smiled and gazed at the white-haired child Elias clutched to him. “And with her green eyes, she should be named Ivy.”

Elias sat down on the edge of the bed next to her, bending to nuzzle her head.

“Yes,” He said fondly. “It’s perfect.”

After both parents had a turn holding both of their infant girls, they gave Silver and Ruth a chance. Ruth was anxious and attentive, fearful of being clumsy or accidentally jostling his new nieces and upsetting them, but Silver seemed overjoyed to hold the tiny babes, smiling brightly and giggling at their noises. A better nanny than Silver Lady could not be found anywhere, either in the mortal realm or the kingdom of the fae. Chise had a feeling she was going to be relying heavily on her for the next few months.

While holding Holly, Silver made a small noise of surprise.

“Silver?” Chise said. “What is it?”

Silver brought the baby to the bed and knelt down between Elias and Chise, where the parents could see the newborn’s eyes. The irises were solid black and didn’t reflect light, instead seeming to consume it. The pupils, however, were red. Not the bright holly red of her hair, but a dark crimson red, like blood on snow, and they too were mere slits.

“Oh,” Chise breathed. “Look at that. Aren’t they beautiful?”

Elias, seeing the trace his own eyes looking back at him from his daughter’s face, was at a loss for words.

His children were mostly human, it seemed, but they retained a piece of him, a fragment of his fae blood, just as Titania said. Before, this thought made him worry about their future, but seeing them now, he felt… what was this? It was a good feeling, but it carried weight with it. Pride? Was that it? Did he feel proud? Perhaps so.

After a while, Shannon insists that everyone leave the room to the new parents and their children, and Elias settled himself in a chair beside the bed, with Chise on his left side and the crib on the right. All three of his girls were sleeping peacefully. Ivy seemed content in being wrapped up in her swaddling, but Holly had kicked her way out of the blankets so that she could move freely.

He watched them sleep with mixed emotions, laying his hands on the stomachs of the babes, comforted by their warmth. As if waiting for this, they both reached out and gripped his fingers in their fists and held on with a surprisingly strong grip.

The world could have been falling down around them, but as long as they were safe and happy, it wouldn’t have bothered him. He found he didn’t care all that much at the moment about the concerns that had plagued him before the birth, though he knew they would come back eventually. He felt warm and calm, with none of the anxiety that had been gnawing at his mind for months. Was this feeling happiness? Peace?

He could identify at least one emotion well enough: love. It was different than what he felt for Chise, but no less consuming. Chains of gold and silver had wrapped themselves around his heart. They sprung from the touch of his tiny daughters’ small hands on his own, an unbreakable link that bound him to his newly-born flesh and blood. Instinct drove this behavior, and it was obvious what it meant. They had laid claim to him.

They do not belong to me, he realized. I belong to them. How fascinating.

He had lived for centuries never having tethered himself to any other being. Back then, loneliness and being alone were mutually exclusive concepts. He’d had friendships and acquaintances but felt no obligation to any of them beyond an occasional favor or trade. At the time, he had thought himself content.

When he had acquired Chise on a whim out of mere curiosity, he had not anticipated how his life would change. The connection that developed between them, as slow as it was to manifest openly, was unlike anything he’d felt before. It brought with it many good feelings, as well as many unpleasant ones. Chise’s love was easy enough to earn, but he soon discovered that while love could be unconditional, trust was not. He hadn’t known there was a difference between those emotions until he had betrayed them.

For a while after, their bond was fragile and could snap with any slight pressure he applied to it. It had taken much time and effort on his part to repair the damage he had done, and he had sworn never to do anything that could sever that link again.

But the bond he felt to these two new lives was instantaneous and indestructible, something over which he had no control. He was, for lack of a better term, spellbound.

“I don’t understand.”

Elias jumped slightly at Chise’s soft whisper. He looked over to see that she was awake and staring are her children.

“What is it you do not understand, Little Bird?” Elias replied quietly.

“I thought,” She said. “I thought when they were born, it would make more sense, but it doesn’t. I thought it would help me understand why they did it.”

“Your parents,” He said. It wasn’t a question.

“I thought that once I was a parent myself, I could see it from their perspective, and I’d understand. But I don’t. I would never, ever leave them. I could never hurt them. Never.” She looked at Elias and took his hand. “What they did still makes no sense to me. I guess you were right, Elias. I am different.”

“Yes,” He said, holding her hand to his cheek. “Do not be sad, Chise. That is a wonderful thing.”

She smiled, and her gaze returned to the infants. “You’re right. It is.”

During the first two months, which Chise and Elias used to get accustomed to the new routine of parenthood, the twins developed personalities that were as different as their appearance. Holly was an independent little thing and didn’t like to be swaddled or held for too long, while Ivy loved to be cuddled and preferred to be held by Elias over anyone else. He was more than happy to hold her at all times and soon became deft at doing things one-handed.

After this necessary adjustment time, they decided to have a small gathering of friends over to properly introduce their children. They had invited Stella, the Barley family, Alice, a few friends from the college including the brooding Adolf and enthusiastic Tori, and even Renfred. Over the years, Elias and Renfred had forged a tense acquaintanceship. Chise encouraged them to be better friends, but in the end, she figured anything was better than open hostility.

They had invited Lindel, too, but he didn’t want to leave the aerie again. He insisted they bring them to him instead, which they promised to do when the children were a few months older.

“Aren’t they darling?” Angelica said, looking at Holly sleeping in sixteen-year-old Althea’s arms.

“They really are,” Stella said, now nineteen, as she tickling Ivy’s feet while David held her. The baby cooed at Stella as she did so.

“Ya did good, Chise,” Alice said. “You cooked up some real nice babies in there.” She poked Chise’s stomach, which was now much smaller and thankfully no longer sore.

“That’s a weird phrase, Alice, thank you,” Chise said.

Renfred had been mostly quiet during the gathering. Alice had told Chise that babies make him nervous; he liked kids better when they were old enough to follow orders.

Elias was similarly uncomfortable with so many people in his house at once, and eventually, it drove him outside to the garden. Cold though it was, he sat at the garden table with his tea and sighed.

“Are they not lovely?” A voice said to him from his right. He turned to see a small, child-like figure standing there nearby. She wore a simple white gown made of thin silk and a crown of baby’s breath around her head. A circle of snow underneath her feet had melted away and flowers had sprung up all around her. Her hair was black, her skin like petals, her eyes like the wings of a dragonfly.

“Titania,” Elias said, standing. “You’ve come alone.”

“I have, though I shan’t be long,” She said, her voice belying her youthful appearance. “I bring with me gifts for your little ones.”

“Gifts?”

“Yes. The heartache you expressed when last we met has stayed with me. I felt compelled to do something to set your mind at ease.” She opened her hands, and lying in each palm was a ring carved of dark wood, one on a gold string, the other on a silver one. “I told you your offspring held my favor, did I not?” She asked. “That was not a lie. You need not worry for their safety from our kind. These will tell all fae creatures that your babes are my godchildren and therefore under my protection.”

Elias did not recall agreeing to such an arrangement, but accepted the rings with a bow.

“Thank you, my Lady,” He said. “This is most generous.”

“You must bring them to visit us, Thorn,” Titania said. “It’s been so long since there were children in the Faerie Kingdom. Oberon is dying to meet the new magelings.”

Elias nodded without speaking, not committing to this. He wondered if her favor extended to not trapping them in the faerie realm.

“Be well, Elias. Take care of our sweet robin and those beautiful children. Dwell no longer on the darkness in your past and look instead to your future. Your legacy now resides in those new souls that you created, and not the mistakes you have made. You have been given a divine gift. Do not take it for granted.”

“I assure you, Lady,” He said seriously. “I have no intention of doing so.”

She smiled at him, and the body she inhabited burst apart into flowers and floated away like the seeds of a dandelion, carried away on a sudden wind that smelled strangely of spring grass.

Elias lifted his gaze to watch the petals drift away, putting the charms in his pocket.

Once everyone had gone home and the house was quiet again, Elias picked up a wailing Ivy, who quieted immediately, and sat with Ruth and Chise as Silver laid out their dinner. Chise fed Holly with one arm and fed herself with the other. Once Holly finished, Chise passed her to Ruth to be burped and held out her arms for Ivy, who Elias passed carefully over the dinner table. Silver waited at Ruth’s elbow with a spit-up cloth. They all seemed to be easing into this new normal well.

Elias and Chise took the children to their room and laid them down for sleep, with Ruth curled up on the floor between them. He was better than a baby monitor. Ruth was taking his oath to Elias to protect the children very seriously and was just as involved in their care as every other person in the house. It seemed there was no shortage of babysitters to be found for the new parents, and Chise found that comforting. The nightmare she’d once had of being overwhelmed with caring for two children at once with limited help faded from her mind.

With the children abed for a least a couple of hours, Elias and Chise took this time to spend with each other, something they hadn’t had much opportunity to do since the birth. They sat together on the couch of the sitting room, Chise in Elias’s lap and wrapped up warmly in his arms. She was so tired, she could have fallen asleep if she let herself.

“I’m sorry the party got too claustrophobic for you,” Chise said, twining and untwining her fingers with his.

“It’s all right,” Elias said. “I am actually glad for it. I’d much prefer that the girls were introduced to all our friends at once rather than make many trips to achieve the same result.” Reaching into his waistcoat’s pocket, he pulled out the ring pendants he had gotten. “Besides, while outside, Titania left a give with me.”

Chise took the trinkets and looked at them curiously. “That was nice of her. What are they for?”

“Protection, she said. It’ll ward off any of her kind that would do them mischief.”

Chise smiled. “She’s very thoughtful for a fae.”

“Yes,” Elias agreed. “I wonder if she will extend the same blessing to any additional children we may have.”

Chise swung and looked up in surprise. “You want more children?”

“It's not outside the realm of possibility. We can talk about it later,” Elias replied.

“You're serious. You really want another baby?”

“I merely said we’d talk about it.”

“That’s not a no.”

Elias laughed.

“Give me a year, at least,” Chise said in exasperation. “My body isn’t ready for another one so soon.”

“If you wish,” He said, hugging her tightly.

They sat happily in each other’s arms for the next hour, taking a well deserved rest, until one of the babies began to cry. Elias released her and followed her up the stairs to the childrens' room, where he consoled Holly as Ivy fed. When Ivy was done, they switched. After feeding, the infants resumed sleeping. Before they left, Elias affixed the charms to the wall above their bassinets, the silver one over Ivy, and the gold protecting Holly. The parents, exhausted, climbed into their own bed and fell asleep at once.

Every day brought something new, and Elias was learning so much so quickly. His entire universe had shifted, and thought it had taken time to get used to it, he greeted each wonderful development as they happened with an open heart. He awoke eagerly every morning in his new life, looking forward to what might be.

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Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

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reactivebangtan · 7 years ago

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REQUEST: Are your requests open? I didn’t see anything saying that they weren’t so I’m sorry if they’re not. But if they are could you possibly do a BTS reaction to when their S/O comes home after a really stressful day at work and something really little and trivial sets them off and makes them cry? I work in a memory care facility and today was literally the worst. REQUESTED BY: anonymous WARNINGS: nothing! NOTES: this is so late but i hope your day got a little better! ♡

he could see it as soon as you walked in the door — your usual smile upon hearing his ‘ welcome home, sweetheart! ’ was dim, your eyes seemed distant ( he’d bet anything that your head wasn’t where your body was ), and even your feet seemed out of place as you moved from the front door. there was no telling what caused it or how bad the damage was, but he didn’t bother second-guessing himself when he asked: ❝ are you okay, babe? ❞ from his place in the kitchen — he’d gotten so used to cooking meals late to accommodate your work schedule that he simply found himself there around this time everyday — he could see the way your whole body tensed, the way you paused, the way his question rolled over you and he could see exactly when it hit you. it seems that was all it took, as even though your mouth never opened, the tears that immediately welled in your eyes and shook your shoulders answered his question all on their own. instantly, you had two strong arms wrapping themselves around your body and supporting your weight, allowing you to lean into him completely as the shell you’d precariously built around yourself came crumbling down. sobs shook your body, your limbs trembled with every inhale and your chest squeezed with every exhale, and even though seokjin held you up it felt as if the floor was coming out from under you. after consistently holding it in all day it felt almost therapeutic to let it go, though, and once he sat you down and your cries calmed into little hiccups and gasps you could feel the weight of the day sliding off you in languid, heavy waves. every once in a while his thumb would pass over your cheek to catch a stray tear, or you’d feel his mouth press to the side of your head, as if he wanted to make sure you knew he was still there, sitting with you — he never asked another question, never bothered to shush you, simply allowing you to get it all out until you couldn’t cry anymore. and, by the time you did finally stop, he smiled at you like your eyes weren’t puffy and your nose wasn’t running and your make-up wasn’t streaked all over the place — he smiled like it was his first time seeing you walk through the door, like he’d been missing you all day, like he didn’t mind all the mess. there’s no ‘ do you feel better, now? ’, no ‘ get it all out? ’, no trying to cheer you up and simply move past this, just the serene calm that washes over you when he brushes your hair back and kisses your forehead one more time. ❝ how does a bath sound? you can soak the day off, and dinner should be finished by the time you get out. come on — i’ll start it for you. ❞

yoongi tried not to take it too personally when your response to him showing up at your place was dismissive and almost tired, brushing it off as you simply being exhausted from working so much lately. he even chalks up the way you grumble to yourself while in the kitchen to mere fatigue, opting to hover in the doorway rather than get in your way as you seemingly argue with the vegetables and scowl at the seasonings. it isn’t until a certain scent hits his nose that he actually makes his way into the warzone, sniffing all the way up to the undeniable source before noting it as blatantly as possible: ❝ you burnt the rice. ❞ when his gaze moves from the mess inside the pot to your face he expects to see that glare fixated on him, but instead is met with you covering your mouth and turning away as soon as you notice he’s looking at you. a strange reaction to say the least, but then you were never exactly normal by any means, and it’s another thing he’s willing to excuse away until he sees the way your shoulder trembles and your breath shudders out of you, choking halfway out. it takes all of five seconds to realize what’s happening, before he’s rushing towards you with all the intent to make it stop and no real idea how. the first words that clumsily tumble out of his mouth are: ❝ it’s not that bad, ❞ but when your immediate response is a choked ❝ it’s not that, ❞ his shoulders are slumping a little further and his brows furrowing even tighter. he doesn’t try to assume what’s got you upset, aware of the fact that you’ll tell him sooner or later and that it takes more than an educated guess to understand. instead, he opts for taking you into his arms and shushing you, holding you as close as he can without completely suffocating you. yoongi has never been the best with affection, but he’s certainly not the worst, either — this shows, now, with the way his hand cradles the back of your head and leans it on his shoulder, and how he says nothing when he feels your tears soaking into the material of his shirt and hitting his skin. it isn’t the first time you’ve cried in front of yoongi, and yet you still feel ashamed through the tears and the sobs and the whimpers — clutching onto the material of his shirt, you try to stand up straight, to get yourself together, but your knees are weak and you’re so tired and all you can do is lean against him and apologize, because what else is there to do? ❝ i’m sorry — ❞ you start, but he doesn’t let you finish, quieting your weak, trembling voice with a strong: ❝ don’t be. just let it out. ❞ and, you swear he holds you a little tighter, pulls you a little closer, before you’re wrapped entirely in him.

❝ hey, babe! ❞ hoseok’s cheery voice on the other side of the phone line is almost enough to lift your spirits right away, and you almost feel as if he knew you weren’t feeling like yourself — he always seems to call when things start to look gloomy, especially when he couldn’t be there — the thought bringing a little smile to your face. ❝ hey, hobi, ❞ comes your exhausted greeting, spoken on a heavy sigh ( he’s always done that to you, dragged the air right out of you somehow, like a simple breath could knock away the weight of the world, like he has the right to steal your breath away ). ❝ what’s up? ❞ you exchange your usual conversation collectively recounting all the little steps of your day, odd chatter in the background of his end filling the silence between words and your solemn breathing, all as you prepare your dinner and buzz about your kitchen. another thing you loved about him; he listened to anything you had to say, soaking it all in like a sponge and relishing in it, all because he couldn’t be there with you to experience it all firsthand — it’s second best to the real thing, but it’s enough. it isn’t until you accidentally swipe your hand over the counter in a grand display to what you were explaining that conversation stops mid-sentence and he’s left questioning you as to why you’ve gone quiet — you say nothing, already feeling your throat closing up at the sight before you begins swimming in a blend of color and shapes as tears fill your eyes. food — the last of the food you have in your house — is now all over the floor and painting the sides of your counters, and you swear you see a crack in the side of the bowl you had put it all in. all hoseok gets is a quiet chanting of ‘ no, no, no, no, ’ and more questions than answers. sure, it was cheap food and the bowl was plastic, but you were looking forward to finally sitting down and enjoying something today, and yet it seems the divines have other plans. ❝ what happened? are you okay? ❞ ❝ no, ❞ you whine, voice now clouded and thick with the frustration and despair that had built a home in your chest and decided to, apparently, live there. his chest aches, too, when he hears the way you whimper helplessly into the phone. ❝ my dinner is all over the floor and i have nothing else to eat and the bowl is broken and it’s everywhere and — ❞ ❝ okay! okay, hey, breathe, ❞ it’s all he can do to cut you off, evening out his own breathing and listening for yours to do the same. ❝ it’s okay. it’s just food, right? you didn’t get hurt? ❞ waiting again to hear your affirmation, the smallest of smiles worms its way onto his face — god, you could be wailing at the top of your lungs, and he’d still think you’re cute. ❝ i’ve got an idea — can you wait to clean it up? ❞ ❝ yeah, i guess... ❞ you sniffle, wiping away the few stray tears that escaped your eyes in the midst of your despair. ❝ why? ❞ ❝ 'cause i’m coming over to help! ❞ he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you can just hear the door close behind him as he saunters out into the world, on his way to find you. ❝ and, i’m bringing pizza. unlock your door for me, okay? ❞

a sudden gasp and a yelped ‘ no, please don’t — ! ’ from the other room is enough to get namjoon up and out of the professional stupor he’d been in for the last three hours, finally leaving his pen and paper behind for the sake of whatever you’d gotten yourself into this time. he’s prepared for something spilled or something ripped or perhaps something broken, but what he isn’t prepared for is to see you standing over something spilled, ripped and broken with tears in your eyes. your latest book, one you’d been particularly excited about reading, lay at your feet with the pages soaked through with juice you’d left sitting on the side, words bleeding out into the paper and smearing, one page even half-torn and dangling just past the rest. in an effort to save it, you’d grabbed the closest thing available — which ended up being one of your shirts from the day before — and began desperately pressing it to the pages in order to soak some of the mess up. it did very little, and only caused you to get more frustrated, which ended up in another influx of tears. ❝ hey, babe, it’s okay, ❞ namjoon’s soothing voice washes over you as he steps farther into the room, causing you to finally look up from the disaster before you. ❝ i can buy you a new one, alright? please don’t cry over it. ❞ his words drip with honey, sugared in sympathy and a level of care that only he can produce, just as his hands reach out to wipe away the freshest of your tears as they trail hotly down your cheeks. ❝ it’s not just the book, ❞ you start, lip quivering — his heart breaks a little at the sight of it. ❝ everything’s been going wrong today. everything. ❞

it’s impossible to imagine how frustrated you must be just by your words alone, but he’s got a pretty good idea — he’s well acquainted with the sentiment, knowing far too well how it feels to have everything seemingly out of your control, crashing down around you and swallowing you up in the aftermath. watching as you spare another glance at the mess that is your destroyed book and seeing the way your shoulders sag in defeat, he spares one last glance himself at the door he’d walked through only moments before and sets his mouth in a hard-line; work can wait, he decides. ❝ well, we can’t go wrong with takeout, right? ❞ a smile alights his face when you shrug in response, nodding shortly after. ❝ how about we call some food in and just chill out for the night? we can... watch some movies or something. something with a happy ending. how does that sound? ❞ his smile only grows when you notices your own slowly bringing itself to life on the deadened features you’d taken to, just as you reach up to swipe away the last of the evidence of your minor breakdown. you glow, again ( at least, in his eyes ). ❝ yeah... that sounds perfect. ❞

you’ve held it in all day, expertly avoided questions like ‘ hey, are you okay? ’ and smiled every time someone got a little too close to seeing through your facade. it took all the willpower you had to not either leave or breakdown in the bathroom, already beyond frustrated with most everything going on — it didn’t help that nothing seemed to go your way, everything that could go wrong was and absolutely no one seemed to care but you. because of all this, you can’t help the relief that washes over you when you’re standing in front of your front door, knowing that beyond lay not only a bottle of wine and a cozy bed, but also your loving boyfriend. ❝ jimin? ❞ you call out as you shut it behind you, unable to help yourself from seeking him out almost immediately. getting a soft ‘ back here! ’ in return, you begin trailing to the back of your shared apartment, a little smile beginning to bloom on your lips as the comfortable silence in the house lapses over everything else and peace surrounded you. you’re no longer paying attention to what room you enter or how your body swerves around different corners, only aware of the fact that he’d be waiting there with open arms and that dazzling smile of his at the end. it isn’t until your feet hit the cold tile floor of your bathroom that you stop to notice the walls that encase you and, in turn, the divine scene set before you. candles were precariously placed on all the places they’d fit ( one balanced on the sink, on the back of the toilet, two on the thin rims of the bathtub, even one on the floor ), water was filled to the brim of the tiny tub with petals delicately scattered over the surface and a pleasant aroma filled the air — cinnamon and sugar and sweet almond, a soft blend that hits you just as your eyes settle on the man you’d been waiting hours to see. ❝ what is all of this? ❞ you ask, and he doesn’t seem to notice the tremble in your voice right away, instead smiling sheepishly in return and averting his gaze nervously. ❝ well, you texted me that you weren’t feeling well, and you always do this sort of thing for me when i’m not feeling my best, so... ❞ when all he gets in silence in return he finally forces himself to look at you and gauge your reaction, as, for some reason beyond him, he was utterly terrified to see what it was. did he do too much? too little? did he mess something up? the horror only doubled when he saw you covering your mouth and tears springing to your eyes, threatening to flow freely any moment — the candles flickered against them, alighted them and gived them a glow, and suddenly all he wanted to do was snuff them out. despite the fear and anxiety, he rushes to you within an instant and hovers just outside of touching you for fear of provoking you further: ❝ ah! did i do something wrong? i didn’t mean to make you cry! ❞ ❝ no, ❞ you manage to choke out, one hand shooting out to balance yourself on his bicep, squeezing and trying to ground yourself; eventually, you have no choice but to shut your eyes and let the tears fall from your lashes. ❝ it’s nothing you did. this is — this is wonderful, jimin, thank you. ❞ the fear dissolves as your words spill as clumsily from your lips as your tears from your eyes, but the anxiety remains nuzzled into his chest, just as you do a moment later. this time, without hesitation, he wraps his arms around you and supports your weight as you try to calm yourself down, reign yourself in, and when you fail to do even that. ❝ did something happen at work today? ❞ ❝ something like that, ❞ comes your weak response. ❝ i’m sorry, jimin. you must’ve worked really hard to do all of this, and yet i’m... ❞ ❝ it’s okay, ❞ his voice is so sweet, so soft, whispered right into your ear, warming your skin. ❝ you know i don’t mind. besides, you can still enjoy it, right? ❞ sinking into his arms and filling your lungs with air ( and, in turn, the scent he’d chosen ), you allow your heart to settle in your chest and the tears to slow, the ache in your head subsiding — how did you ever get to be so lucky? ❝ can... we enjoy it? ❞ a chuckle is your immediate response, before he’s kissing the top of your head and smoothing his hands down your sides — he takes his time sliding his fingertips beneath the hem of your shirt and lifting it just as slowly, caressing the dip of your hip and the curve of your waist as he does so, and the rest of your clothes are slipped off all in the same way: ❝ i’d like that. ❞

water thoroughly soaks through the material of your clothing and the chill that comes with it sinks into your skin and aches in your bones, all of which cause you to tremble and shake. you can see no sign of the rain stopping anytime soon, and all you can think is how this is the perfect ending to the worst sort of day — it can’t get any worse, you mock yourself in your head. now all i can do is look up! right. you couldn’t look up if you wanted to at the moment, unless you wanted to drown, both physically ( which you know isn’t exactly possible, but after considering your luck for the day you decide not to take the risk ) and metaphorically. the noise of water hitting concrete drowned out your groans and little whimpers, the cold coaxing them out of you over and over, until you weren’t sure you knew how to make any other sound. thankfully, you managed to find an overhanging roof that you could tuck yourself under, but every so often the wind would blow the rain onto you anyway, and it dripped incessantly from above, soaking into your hair. without truly realizing it, you begin to tear up, salt mingling with the fresh water clinging to your form — it isn’t until you feel the warmth racing down your cheek and cooling by the time it drips off your chin that you truly realize. it made sense, after a day like this — it seemed no matter how hard you worked things wouldn’t go right, and you could see the annoyance in your co-workers eyes every single time you messed up even slightly, until you couldn’t bare to look them in the eye anymore. those you were helping never seemed to be satisfied, and your help seemed to just add to their problems, until you tried to hang back and interact as little as possible. eventually, this all added up to you getting yelled at and reprimanded for things you couldn’t really help, which, although it wasn’t your breaking point, it was pretty damn close. and, if that weren’t enough, you were looking forward to finally going home and being able to relax, maybe grab a glass of that good wine you’ve been waiting to serve and take a hot bath, until even that was taken from you as soon as you stepped up to the exit. you could feel the cold from the other side of the glass, and you tried to prepare yourself, you really did, but the walk back home was far too long for weather like this. still, you had no other choice. it is, afterall, how you got here. the world around you seems bleak, without life and color, and the sheer loneliness of it has you clutching at yourself in order to ground yourself — the feeling brings you back to the real world just enough for you to shove your hand into your bag and rummage around in order to find your phone, finally resorting to your last option. when the line clicks and you hear him shuffling around, you don’t even give him a chance to say ‘ hello? ’: ❝ tae? ❞ ❝ y/n? is everything okay? ❞ ❝ if ‘ okay ’ is being drenched and freezing, then yes, ❞ you try to reply smoothly, but you’re certain he can hear the tremble in your voice. ❝ are you, by any chance, busy? ❞ ❝ too busy to come pick you up? no, ❞ his reply is smooth, though, and it eases you just a little. ❝ send me your location. ❞ waiting there for him seems to take forever, and the lonely streets only get lonelier and lonelier the longer you’re left standing there, by yourself, anticipating everything and nothing all at once. you find yourself thinking things like ‘ what if he doesn’t come? ’ and ‘ what if he forgets? ’ despite knowing he’d never do such a thing. and, you thought you were crying before, but the relief that washes over you when you finally spot taehyung’s car is enough to bring it all back, your lip trembling and your eyes stinging. it’s damn near overwhelming, how it forces the air out of your lungs and has you clutching ever tighter to yourself. it doesn't get bad, though, until you actually see him stepping out of the car, your eyes immediately meeting through the thick curtain of water dividing you. with an umbrella in hand and his destination seemingly nothing but you, you get all choked up and practically run to him when he’s close enough. the umbrella just barely shields you both from the onslaught of rain, but it’s enough to get you both in the car, his clothes, for the most part, unscathed. and, in the immense relief comes even more as you feel the hot air coming out of the car, momentarily blinding you to the fact that you’re still crying. it was impossible to stop yourself, to shut it all down, and by the time you’re trying to simply it and the evidence of the torrential downpour off your cheeks, he notices. ❝ bad day? ❞ he asks, reaching out far enough to lay a hand over your thigh, squeezing. ❝ yeah, ❞ you breathe. ❝ the worst. i’m sorry for taking you away from whatever you were doing, though. ❞ ❝ don’t be — i didn’t even know it was raining until you called, otherwise i would’ve come to pick you up at work. ❞ not once today has someone said ‘ don’t be ’ to you today when you apologized, not once have they showed you sympathy, and not once have they shown you care. that is the final straw. ❝ thank you, ❞ you start, eyes watering and mouth turned up into the softest, shakiest smile. he only looks at you briefly, trying to keep his attention fixated on the road, but whatever he manages to see is enough to make him frown. ❝ thank you, taehyung. ❞ ❝ thank me when we get back to the dorms, ❞ comes his curt reply, another swift squeeze on your thigh stopping you from saying otherwise or arguing with his decision. ❝ they’re closer, and i don’t want you getting sick from staying in those clothes. this project shouldn't’ take much longer, anyway, so i should be able to spend some time with you tonight. we can... order take-out, and just sit around or watch a movie or something. how does that sound? ❞ ❝ sounds like the best thing i’ve heard all day. ❞

among the top of the list of things you love about jungkook is his spirited, competitive mentality that always seemed to push him to do his best in anything and everything — it was one of the things that attracted you to him in the first place, one of those things you find endearing ( most people look at you weird for that, but you don’t mind ), and something you deal well with. sure, you might get a little competitive yourself, but it didn’t seem to matter who really won to you when you were with him. whether you won or lost you got something out of it, whether it be his cute pout or his beautiful smile. this is why, after you got home and he could practically see the stress rolling off you in tangible waves, then proceeded to offer to play you on your favorite video game you couldn’t see it going wrong. a perfect way to unwind after a long day and vent your frustrations, right? wrong. every time you got your score beat and your ass virtually kicked it just seemed like a repeat of the whole day — you couldn’t do anything right, the buttons weren’t working the way they were supposed to and you just kept failing. you couldn’t even win one time! not once! just as quickly as the frustration had melted away when you stepped through the front door, it seemed to return just as fast the longer you stared at that damn screen, the bright colors and lively music taunting you. where his usual little whoops of triumph and victory dance might’ve warmed you on a normal day, today they only set the feeling in stone and weighed down on your shoulders like absolutely everything else. it isn’t until he wins for the tenth time that you really start to feel it, though, that overwhelming and suffocating sort of frustration that makes your chest ache and your head hurt and everything in you tense at the sensation of it. the controller protested with a subtle crackling noise as your hands tightened around it, and it was all you could do to simply look away and clench your jaw. i will not cry over this, you chant in your head. i will not cry over this. no matter of trying to convince yourself would work, though, as even though your eyes are closed you can feel the tears building up behind your lids. the heat of them is overwhelming, burning their way past your lashes and trailing down your cheeks before you can even try to stop them. ❝ babe? ❞ jungkook breaks you from your inner turmoil, just as he’s leaning close to you to get a glimpse of your expression, but can’t quite reach that far. ❝ you’re not really that mad about losing, are you? ❞ it’s all you can offer, a shake of your head instead of words that come out on a shaky breath and crack halfway up your throat, so weak in tone that you just feel that much more worthless. you know he can hear it anyway, that he knows, that you’re not hiding it as well as you would’ve liked to. ❝ babe? ❞ he asks once again, his question now soft and tender and so, so aware. ❝ are you... are you crying? ❞ there’s no need to look at him to know his mouth is turned down and his brows are pinched together, and there’s no need for him to see your face when he already knows tears are marring it all the way down your cheeks. suddenly, though, he’s moving from his seat to stand in front of you, his controller tumbling from his lap and clattering to the floor — the noise has your eyes popping open, only to see him standing there, looking at you with those big, worry-filled eyes. the sympathy is damn near tangible, rolling off of him in thick, languid waves that wash over you until you’re crying all over again. ❝ i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ it’s not you, ❞ you start, assuring him of your words with a squeeze to his bicep. ❝ today has just been — ❞ the words get caught in your throat just from remembering it all, leading to you momentarily choking on them. ❝ nothing’s been going right, i kept messing up at work, i can’t even do this right, and it’s making me feel so — so worthless. ❞ he never knows what to do in these situations, can never think of the right thing to say, too caught up in the fact that you’re hurting to think of anything else. the best thing he can do is run his hand down the length of your arm until he can lace his fingers together with yours, holding on to you as tight as he can in hopes of grounding you here, with him. ❝ you know i’m not... good at this sort of thing, but is there anything i can do? ❞ it takes you moment to think about it, but the idea comes quickly enough: ❝ could we maybe just... lay down for a bit? ❞ the idea of being all wrapped up in him is almost as therapeutic as the real thing, and you can feel your heart slowing down at just the thought — even if it’s just being close to him, or the smell of him, or his heat radiating against your side you feel calm instantaneously. ❝ yeah, of course, but are you sure you want me there? i just made you cry. ❞ ❝ it wasn’t you, ❞ you remind him, squeezing his hand right back. ❝ i couldn’t think of anything else today, other than coming home to you. being near you, it... it helps me. you help me. ❞ a sheepish smile works its way onto his lips, and he’s finally looking like himself again — worry is still evident on his features, but it’s become dim and overwhelmed by the joy now twinkling in his eyes from your words. ❝ let’s go, then, ❞ he replies, taking to picking you up straight out of your seat and depositing you into his arms, holding you close to him even when your squirming and exclamation of ‘ kookie! ’ says you can walk perfectly fine on your own. ❝ what? we’ll get there faster like this! ❞ ( and, despite your pushing at his chest and adamant wiggling, a smile has bloomed upon your face and your tears have begun to dry, that renewed twinkle reflecting in your eyes as well. )

#reactions.#requests.#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts reacts to #bts reader insert #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #they all came out so cute :(

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