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kinda-super-hot · 4 months ago

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I Want More. (3)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, more coming soon

Pairing: Harvey Specter x F!Lawyer!Reader - friends to enemies to lovers <3

Part 3 Summary: Y/n joins Mike and Harvey when they go to see a client. The client flirts with Y/n, and she makes the best of it, hopefully landing some clients. Harvey is not happy.

Warnings: Reflecting on past relationship, some yelling

Word Count: 2570

A/N: Thank ya'll so much for the support! The more you comment and like, the faster I write. Love ya'll enjoy!

I’m typing away an email when my intercom goes off. “(Y/n), Harvey needs you in his office.” Donna’s voice rings out and I feel nauseous.

“Ok, thanks, Donna.” Wait. “Donna?”

“What’s up?” She asks in a sing-song voice, and I can hear her fingers click-clacking against her keyboard.

“How long has the intercom been on?” The click-clacking stops. I let out an incredulous laugh, “Have you been listening this whole time?” The intercom beeps and I know it’s been shut off, probably for the first time since I’ve been here.

I smile and stand from my desk, throwing on the black blazer that was previously sitting on the back of my chair. There’s a pastel pink handkerchief tucked in the breast pocket that matches my blouse.. that also matches Harvey’s tie. What a weird coincidence.

I walk the short distance from my office to Donna’s desk. “Good morning!” She hums all too happily at me. I give her a raised brow and cross my arms. “It’s nothing personal, I hear all around here. That’s why I’m so good at what I do. I’m Donna.” She flicks her hands in the air with flair.

“Of course.” I smile at her mischievously. “If you hear all around here, Donna, what have people been saying about me?” I’ve been wondering, but had no way of finding out, until now.

“Well, obviously I’ve heard the she’s smoking comment more times than I can count.” She laughs. “Louis thinks your one joke away from going to dinner with him.”

“Shoot, I don’t want to give him the wrong impression.” I scold myself and bite my lip.

“What, you don’t date anyone in the office?” She questions, but it’s off. Her tone, something about it… I lift my eyes to meet hers and she has a devious smile.

“You know.” I exhale and lean on the desk. “God, does everyone know?!” I whisper yell at her. I do a quick scan of my surroundings, and I don’t see anyone looking. I hesitantly take a quick peek into Harvey’s office.

I pause my frantic behavior when I see him. He’s sitting at his desk on the phone and Mike is on the couch. I can tell he’s charming whoever is on the other side of the phone, because even though they can’t see him, he has his prince-like smile on him. My heart swells for him.

“That’s how I know,” Donna whispers in my ear. I jump, I didn’t even see her get up. She gives me a pointed look. “Yesterday, I saw you look at him when you two were first ‘meeting’” she gives air quotes, “and I could see the way you look at him. You couldn’t keep your eyes off-”

“His puppy dog eyes.” I cut her off, but my eyes are still strained on him. I have to tear my eyes away from him to bashfully look at Donna.

She nods with a smile, “The rest I’ve put together from bits and pieces of everyone’s conversations.” She shrugs cockily. “You know,” She stops herself; I can tell she’s debating whether or not to say what she’s about to say, “This isn’t my first time hearing about you.”

My heart flips. I want to question her further, and I’m about to until I smell expensive cologne and a familiar musk. I turn my head to see Harvey just leaving his office with Mike in tow. He sees me and smiles, trying to charm me. Oh god, he’s trying to play me!

Back in the day, I knew Harvey better than I knew myself. So now I know he’s trying to get back in my good graces, what I don’t know is his end goal.

“G’morning, Donna,” He greets Donna and then his eyes slowly trail to mine. “(Y/n).” He has a close-lipped smirk on his face, one he knew made my knees weak in law school. This may be harder than I thought.

I give him a polite nod but don’t give him any more attention. He may still give me butterflies, but I’m still pissed. I turn my attention to the younger man beside him. “Mike.” I greet him with a smile but there’s some tension exuding from me. I haven’t forgotten what he said to me the other day. “Y’know, our conversation the other day inspired me,” I put my hand on his shoulder and squeeze it. “I think my next vacation might be in Paris…France.” I say bluntly and drop the smile I was faking as I side-eyed Harvey.

His eyes dart from my face to Mike accusingly. “Yeah, ha-ha,” Mike laughs nervously. “It’s a beautiful place. The architecture, the landscape-“

“The people?” I question in a demeaning way with a smile on my face. I see Harvey tense and he licks his lips. He’s uncomfortable. Good. Harvey’s hand goes to Mike’s back, and I can tell he’s probably giving him a hidden pinch. Ooh, I know that hurts.

There’s an awkward beat of silence. “Well.” Donna clears her throat, “You all should probably get going. Marshall is expecting you.” She urges.

“Ok, thank you, Donna.” I answer chipperly and turn in the direction of the elevators. In the reflection of one of the associate's monitors, I see Donna mouthing something demanding at Harvey. He mouths back something along the lines of ‘I know, I know!’.

I walk briskly to the elevators and press the button; I don’t even check if the boys are behind me. “So, where are we headed?” I ask, but I keep my head straight, facing the closed elevator doors.

They say nothing until I hear what I’m assuming is Mike giving Harvey a little arm shove. “Downtown-” Harvey starts, then clears his throat. I hear Mike stifle a chuckle. “-we’re meeting Donald Marshall. He’s the company lead for Shilton Suites.”

There’s a ding as the elevator doors open. I step onto the lift and stand close to the buttons. Both boys hesitate to enter. “Are you guys… coming?” They are being so awkward, ugh, boys.

Harvey shoves Mike into the elevator before him, he gets pushed into the wall. Harvey stands shoulder to shoulder with me. “How did you like your coffee?”

I think I’ve imagined his voice; he doesn’t move his torso to face me or even glance my way. I don’t answer right away, trying to process that Harvey is actually talking to me-not just a good morning. “It’s the best around.” He hums in a positive tone, and I see a small smile creep onto his face.

I hope he doesn’t think we’re going to be besties after apology coffee, but I might as well throw him a bone. “Louis wanted to go buy me one from Roaster Roos.”

“Roaster Roos?” Harvey finally turns his body to me and has an offended look on his face. My heart flutters and I wish I could beat it down with a hammer. “God, he has no idea what good coffee is.” He turns back to face the elevator doors, and I crave his gaze on me again.

I feel like I’m running out of time to talk to him away from prying eyes. The dinging of the elevator as we steadily drop feels like a doomsday clock. “He wants to take me to dinner.” I don’t know why I said that.

Harvey stops next to me, and I hear Mike’s strained breathing behind me. I forgot he was here. Once again, it’s quiet until he asks, “How would your boyfriend feel about that?” He’s playing the game- he wants to know if I’m seeing anybody. Touche Mr. Douchebag.

How do I tell him I’m single without being pathetic? “Let’s just say, Louis might have a fighting chance.” I shrug. “Why? Did Louis not ask you to dinner when you first came to the firm?” I tease with a smirk.

His demeanor changes and he has a playful smile on his face, just like the good old days. “Oh, please, Louis wishes he could handle all this.” He motions to himself. He still won’t look at me. I need him to look at me.

I smirk and eye him up and down till my gaze catches on his tie. It’s crooked, I notice. A quick fit of confidence comes over me and I reach for it. At first, both hands are on the knot, but then the other lays flat on his chest while the other straightens the tie out.

It’s just like it was in law school when I would get him ready for mock trials. Something so normal, so domestic, about fixing his tie. Finally, finally, he looks down at me. We’re all but inches apart. I look up into his dark eyes and I feel… odd. His warm breath fans my face and I have to force myself away.

Harvey’s eyes stay on me this time. I can sense Mike looking between the two of us and there’s another layer of awkwardness added to the lift again. “Sorry, I-”

“-Hate a crooked tie.” He finishes my sentence. Of course, he does. I can’t stop myself from looking up, and I know it’s a dumb thing to do before I even do it. Harvey is already looking down at me calmly with half-lidded eyes. I take a brisk look over the rest of his face (pause a little too long on his lips) and back up.

I move just a tad further away from him than I was when we first got in. What is wrong with me? I look towards the elevator buttons and keep my eyes strained there. My chest is rising up and down as I think about what I’ve done.

There’s a ding and the elevator doors open. I wait for him to step out so that I can collect myself, but he doesn’t budge. I side-eye him and motion towards the door, “Go ahead.”

I can feel him looking at me, “Ladies first.” He says and his voice makes my heart flutter. I look at him and he’s looking at me like I’m a sick dog on the side of the street that he feels bad for. I bite my cheek and step out.

The whole way to the meeting spot for the client, I’m a pace or two behind Harvey and Mike. Not just because they’re tall and have long legs, either. At one point, I could tell Harvey had slowed his walking pace so I wouldn’t be so far behind, but I resisted being any closer to him by slowing my pace as well.

I need to think. I’ve detested Harvey since we ‘broke up’, but I’m within his vicinity for TWO DAYS, and I can’t keep it in my pants! I watch his back as he walks and can picture the smooth skin beneath. That gets me thinking about his chest… the scratches I left on both… I shake my head, there is something seriously wrong with me.

We arrive at a parking garage and elevator up to the fifth floor. Luckily, this time I keep my mouth shut and my eyes far from his. The client is waiting for us on a fancy, cherry-red car.

“Harvey!” He shouts joyously. The guy is older with white hair, but he seems active and in good spirits. His gaze slides over to me and I feel like an object. My pace slows and I try to fade into the background despite his hungry eyes. “And who is this?” He looks his lips and I pray that it’s an unconscious habit.

“I’m Mike Ross.” Mike steps in the man’s line of sight. “I’m Harvey’s personal associate.” Thank God for Mike Ross.

But this guy’s determined. He nods boredly at Mike before motioning him to step to the side. Mike moves in stuttered motions and his eyes flicker between me and the client. I give him a face that says ‘What the fuck?’, and he gives me one back that says, ‘I don’t know!’

“You.” I look at the man and freeze. He smiles at me and goes back to leaning on his car, “What are you doing with this guy?” He nods his head to Harvey. I see his jaw clench out of the corner of my eye but otherwise doesn’t move a muscle. “With a face like yours, you could be on anyone’s arm.” The implication is clear.

Just as Harvey opens his mouth, I say, “He’s my boss.” I nod with a tight smile.

An idea floods into my brain and my previously uncomfortable posture straightens until it becomes arched. “Yep!” I pop my lips and sway my hips as I get closer to the car. “Until I get a client of my own, I’m gonna be stuck with this guy.” I point with my thumb to Harvey. “You wouldn’t know a guy who’d want to be my client… would you?” I bat my lashes down at him.

He's quiet for a second and I can feel him about to say something, but I want to make sure my answer is a yes. I slide onto the shiny hood of the car and partially lay on my hip. “Cool car by the way.” I bat my lashes once more, but now I’m looking up at him and I can tell he’s hooked.

“Love, I’m sure people would get in legal trouble just to work with you.” He flirts and scoots closer to me on the car. Play it cool.

“Y/n.” I hear Harvey’s stern voice behind me and slide off of the car.

The rest of the meeting goes without a hitch. The client, Donald Marshall, would occasionally throw in the flirty comment or look but Harvey would quickly interject. As soon as we got what we needed we headed out of the lot… Not fast enough to prevent Mr. Marshall from kissing my hand on the way out.

“What the hell was that?” Harvey asks as soon as we’re on the sidewalk. He puts his hands on his hips and appears to be fuming. “You’re gonna flirt with my client- in front of me? I should write you up.”

“Call it what you want, I’m going to have clients begging to have me represent them by the end of the week.” I pull out my cell to look up the nearest Ikea. I try to look unbothered, but my heart is racing.

“You can’t just flaunt yourself to get clients-“

I get in his face and shove my finger into his chest. “I can and I will do whatever I want to get me as far away from you as possible!” My words are laced with venom.

I hate him. Just because he still has those puppy dog eyes and sugary words doesn’t mean he didn’t lead me on and then tell me I was stupid to think there was something between us.

I breathe heavily and he does in return. There is fire in his eyes, and I don’t want him to look at me like that- but I know I’m looking at him the exact same way. “As soon as I get my first client I won’t have to look at your sorry face and I can pretend you’re not even there.” I turn on my heels to the street and raise my hand to signal a cab.

I am so over Harvey Specter.

Taglist: @technicallykawaiisoul @malfoys-demigod @notarobotipromise

If you want to be added, just let me know!

#harvey specter #harvey specter x reader #harvey specter x reader smut #x reader #friends to enemies to lovers #suits #suits x reader #harvey spector x reader #harvey spector #angst #fluff #romance

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wife-of-all-dilfs · 9 months ago

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the five stages | f. odair

masterlist

summary: a journey back to a golden period of time of polaroid pictures, white knitted sweaters, and lively sea-green eyes. why? because in the present, those same pair of eyes are ruthlessly unrelenting and you have no other chance of their escape.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: heavy angst, vomiting, implied smut, depression, maggots, hallucinations, relieving fluff, mild horror. I don’t want to spoil the story too much, so I won’t be adding any more warnings, sorry y’all. this could be very triggering so please read at your own discretion. some descriptions are quite graphic!

notes: I’m super proud of this one—it’s sorta based off “little talks” by of monsters and men and “on the nature of daylight” by max richer. this fic probably won’t get many views, so I’ll be incredibly grateful for any—if any at all—type of engagement! <33

word count: 8k

The bedroom was cold; dark; empty. Empty even though I still resided in it.

My alarm had gone off two hours ago, yet I hadn’t moved an inch. When I finally turned my head to the side, I found that the space beside me was vacant. Cold; dark; empty—I reached out my hand anyway.

Thirty minutes passed before I wrestled myself out of bed and started making breakfast downstairs. The otherwise warm and flavourful plate of fruit-filled yoghurt and scrambled eggs on toast left my mouth feeling dry and my throat lodged.

It used to be one of my favourite meals. At least, when he was around.

Dishes were piled in the sink, dirty and untouched. I sat on the couch, pondering whether today was the day I would finally get to cleaning them. It wasn’t. I couldn’t. We always did that together. I wondered—if I left them in the sink long enough, would he return? Even just for five minutes to help me put them away? One month and seventeen days had passed, and yet I still entertained this thought religiously.

I wasted an hour running circles round the same contemplations before deciding fresh air, as cliché as it was, might do me some good.

Grey clouds concealed the sun’s warm golden light when I stepped outside, but that was fine—I didn’t like anything golden anymore. But he would want me to leave the house at least once a day, so that’s what I would do. I would go down to the beach beside our—my house and feel the sand collect between my toes as I walked to the water’s edge.

But wasn’t that where he was when it happened? Wasn’t he in water? Didn’t those things pile on top of him? Didn’t they sink their fangs into his neck and tear at his flesh until he was blown to…

Bits of egg, yoghurt and stomach bile sat at my feet. My legs buckled, and I collapsed to the ground in a sandy, tear-stricken heap. Since my lower body had refused to cooperate any longer, it took me until midday to crawl back up the dune and to my front doorstep.

Fuck. I needed to rest.

“I need you to rest, sweetheart.”

“I told you, I’m fine,” I whined. “I’m not sick.”

Finnick placed a bucket on the ground beside the bed. The room smelled of lemon disinfectant—a joy I often found in being sick… That is, if I were sick, which I was not. I must have drunk spoiled milk or eaten something bad during breakfast. Nevertheless, Finnick was not having it.

“You’re throwing up everything you manage to get down, and you’re shivering like it’s the middle of winter,” he said adamantly, tucking the comforter up to my chest. “It’s summer, and you’re very much not fine.”

I sat up, ready to heatedly debate the subject, but the room began swirling, and my ears were hissing like a staticky television channel without a signal. A quiet whimper buzzed in my throat as I hunched forward. Damn him, I was sick.

The mattress dipped as Finnick sat beside me. His hand was on my back, rubbing it soothingly as he used his other hand to tuck away the curtain of hair concealing my face. I huffed, half in annoyance, half in an attempt to suppress the nausea rising in my throat, and then sunk back against the pillows.

“Not sick, she says,” he jested, smiling down at me. I rolled my eyes, though unable to hide the weak, betraying smile creeping across my lips. “Close your eyes, sweetheart,” he said, a gentle command. “I’ll see you when you fall asleep.”

The wooden flooring welcomed me with hard, cold arms as I hauled my sandy body through the front door. Images of fangs, bloody flesh, and panicked sea-green eyes flooded my mind.

More breakfast, more bile. No lemon disinfectant.

My knees were folded beneath my body; my body was hunched over my knees. I was sobbing now, so hard that I threw up again (was there even anything left in my stomach at this point?), creating a thick puddle of vomit and tears beneath me. Cries and gasps for air bounced around the house. To call me a mess would be an understatement. I was a disaster. A disaster wrapped up in an unmendable tragedy with a ragged, threadbare ribbon barely holding me together.

And in case I wasn’t aware of this fact, the floorboards were so shiny that they mirrored a reflection of myself. My hair was a being of its own, all wild and unkempt, and my face was another story entirely—a red, blotchy thing I wasn’t too interested in delving into.

But the most unsettling aspect had nothing to do with me, it was that there was someone else in the reflection. Two green balls of light were glowing above my head.

Dishevelled golden hair…

Dimpled cheeks…

My forehead was pressed to the floor as I screamed.

“I don’t want to make you sick as well,” I said, contrarily enjoying the feeling of Finnick’s skin warm against mine, hot blood flowing through his veins.

A day had passed since I first became unwell, and the sickness had continued to wreak havoc inside me.

We were both under the thick covers, our limbs tangled together as he held me atop his chest. (my body didn’t register the scorching summer temperatures. I actually felt as though my core temperature was a few degrees below freezing. Meanwhile, Finnick was characteristically toasty warm. It was perfect for me, but not so much for him, evident in the beads of sweat collecting on his forehead. Nevertheless, he made no complaints).

My body rose and fell with each breath he took. I was trying to inhale whenever he exhaled in a weak attempt to prevent the festering sickness in my body from entering his, and though it was a futile gesture, I did it anyway.

“In sickness and health, remember?” he said.

I smiled. “We’re not even married.”

“Yet, you mean,” he countered. “I plan on spending the rest of my life with you, sweetheart. You know that.”

My heart fluttered at the thought of spending an entire lifetime with him—waking up in each other’s embrace each morning, the warm sunlight peeking through the blinds of our bedroom; Finnick calling me “Mrs. Odair” or “My wife” at every opportunity because doing so made us both giggle like two moronic, love-struck teenagers; and being unable to prevent the deep smile lines on both our cheeks as we age, a constant display of our perpetual happiness.

“Sixty more years of having and holding you,” he continued with a gentle musing in his tone. “For better or for worse... For richer or for poorer.” He then stroked the side of my face and brushed away the sweaty strands of hair sticking to my forehead. “In sickness and in health…”

“…Until death do us part,” I finished, my voice slow with fatigue.

Two fingers sat beneath my chin and tilted my head upward. My eyes connected with Finnick’s. They were soft. Heartfelt.

“Not even then. I’ll love you beyond the grave,” he murmured. Then his lips were slowly curving into a pensive smile. “When we’re both ghosts and haunting the next owners of this house.”

I was now smiling, too. “I’d hoped you would say something like that.”

How could he lie like that? There was no we. There were no next owners. There was only me, alive and alone in a comatose house. And mind you, I was sane enough to know that it wasn’t actually his ghost haunting me, though I wish I weren’t because having that knowledge was even worse. It meant he was truly erased from existence.

“Go away,” I whispered to the reflection on the floor.

He didn’t. His vacant green eyes kept staring down at my crumpled figure.

I shot off the floor and spun around, hot tears streaming down my face. “Go away!” His face remained expressionless. He looked like himself, only colder. “You said sixty more years! You said we’d be together!” I mindlessly picked up and flung a small picture frame at him, only for it to pass through his body and shatter on the floor behind him. “Why did you lie to me?!” My voice was frayed with fury, though underlined with grief.

He said nothing, did nothing. All he did was watch.

My legs buckled, and I was on the floor again. I was whispering, half-sobbing, the same question over and over until the words slurred together. “Why’d you lie? Why’d y’lie?” The only time I stopped was when my tongue grew too heavy to move anymore.

To my surprise, he eventually came and sat beside me, remaining cold and silent—as I too had become.

Glass fragments from the picture frame were scattered across the floorboards. The photo within had fallen out and, ironically, drifted towards me. I didn’t bother acknowledging him as I moved onto my hands and knees and began crawling forward—my palms slicing open and blood seeping out—until the photo was in my hands. My shins had granules of glass pricking into them, but I couldn’t feel the pain; all I could do was stare at the memory in my hands.

The picture had been taken in District Thirteen, a day before he signed up for… the mission.

I was drifting in and out of sleep when a sudden bright flash lit up my eyelids.

“Oops.”

Heavy eyes fluttering open, I was met with a small camera pointing down at me, which was being held up by a lengthy muscular arm, which was connected to an even more muscular and broad shoulder, which was connected to—okay, sorry, I think you get it.

“Finnick!” I shrieked, pulling the covers over my naked figure.

He laughed, the vibrations rumbling deep within his chest, beneath my ear. A soft whirring sound accompanied the polaroid sliding out of the camera, its black film hiding the doubtless embarrassing picture beneath. He placed the film on the sheets beside him, letting the photo develop in darkness.

“I was supposed to cover the flash,” he said, still chuckling.

I rubbed my eyes, which were twinkling with little sparkles of light. “I think you blinded me.”

“Lucky you,” he jested. “You’re finally free from my repulsive exterior.”

I started to reach for the picture beside him—“You’re an idiot”—but then he was rolling us over until his arms were pillared on either side of my head and he was hovering above me.

His hair was a mess, a testament to the night before (and very early hours of the morning), and he was sporting a beautiful, lazy grin. “Yeah? Well, you’re engaged to an idiot,” he said, tilting his head in an arrogant manner. “So what does that make you?”

The sea-glass ring hugging my finger gleamed in the lamp’s dull light as I reached out to touch his face, my fingertips brushing along the edges of his pronounced jawline. Tangled strands of hair and a beaming smile were reflecting back at me in his eyes. No one had ever loved anyone as much as I loved Finnick—disregarding the one exception that was staring down at me.

“Blinded by love,” I whispered.

Brief yet poignant emotion trickled through his features, his eyes. Then, like a flick of a switch, he covered it up and lowered his face into my neck, groaning the words, “So corny.”

My fingers were tangled in his hair, holding him close to me. “Liar,” I laughed. “You loved it.”

“I love you, which is why I put up with your corniness,” he murmured into my skin.

Even after all this time, my heart still leapt whenever he said those three words, even when he was being a jerk about it. I kissed the top of his head. “I love you, too.”

We laid like this for a short while longer—Finnick keeping his face buried in the warmth of my neck, his arms curled beneath my body; me playing with the golden waves of his hair that were somehow softer than my own. He was so heavy on top of me that it was starting to become difficult to breathe, but in no universe would I ever tell him to get off. It was a blissful sort of suffocation.

A sort anyone would snap a picture of just to keep as a reminder of how beautiful it feels to be smothered with love. With that being said, the picture that lay awaiting beside me was brought back to mind.

“Oh no,” I moaned, picking it up and taking a short glance at the developed photo. I covered my face with my hands, repeating the words, “Oh no.”

The photo was plucked from my fingers, and Finnick began humming contentedly to himself.

In the photo, my face had been nuzzled into his bare, muscular chest, eyes closed in sleep-drunken serenity, hair thrown over my shoulder and spilling across the pillow. My hand rested on his contoured stomach with just enough of my upper arm and low light to conceal my breasts. Finnick had a delicate hand draped over my waist. He was gazing down at me with a smile that was just… full of pure love.

I had to admit—it was a beautiful picture. Despite my initial disapproval.

“Beautiful,” I heard him echo my thoughts, his eyes still scanning the photo. Then his brows furrowed, and his head slightly inched forward as though he had just noticed something peculiar in the picture. “Oh, and you are too, I guess.”

My head tilted back against the pillow with an abrupt laugh. I shook my head, looking back at him. “I hate you.”

“Liar,” he said, leaning in closer.

His lips were on mine for what must have been the millionth time in the past few hours. The bedside clock announced that breakfast was soon approaching, though it was clear neither of us would make an appearance within the next hour (or two).

“You love me,” he whispered as he slid inside me.

And I did.

I really did.

The muscles in my cheeks were straining due to how hard I was smiling.

It wasn’t my idea to keep a picture of us half-naked in the entryway of our home. He always was a bit unusual like that. Completely unashamed of who he was and how he acted. Sometimes a little too boisterously, but that’s what I loved so much about him—how confident he was in his love for me, so much so that nothing else mattered, no one else’s opinion.

God, I love him so much.

Love…?

Wait.

That’s not right.

Shouldn’t it be “loved”?

And why was I smiling? I didn’t have anything to smile about anymore. He was gone. Our wedding never occurred. Our faces never wrinkled with smile lines. Our clasped hands never weathered with age. He was gone.

The polaroid slipped from between my fingers. My hands were covered in glass and blood, blood that had painted a dark red splotch in the middle of the shiny film. Figures.

After a short while of staring blankly at the scattered debris decorating the floor, I finally found it in myself to start climbing back onto my feet. My straightened legs wobbled and ached beneath me with the little energy I had. That’s what happens when you can barely stomach food anymore: no energy, always sleeping, always swamped by nightmares or bittersweet memories—at this point, they were one and the same.

Not a strand of gold or a fleck of green was in sight when I glanced over my shoulder. For now, at least. He liked making an appearance once or twice a day.

Pieces of glass crunched beneath my bare, stinging feet as I made for the stairwell. A mess for another day, I reasoned. Just like the dishes. Sticky red footprints stamped each wooden step I ascended, growing less prominent as I reached the second floor.

After taking a right down a short hallway, the encompassing walls littered with magnificent seashells and dried ocean flora, I turned the knob to the furthest room and entered. The floor was landscaped with mountains of clothes which drenched the room in a familiar, all-consuming smell. The scent kind of reminded me of receiving a warm hug, albeit from someone you know you should let go of in more ways than one.

His hair, golden and tousled, caught my eye as I passed the wall of string-hung polaroids in our… sorry, my bedroom. His smile was all dimpled and brilliant, and he had his tanned arms wrapped around my middle. Just moments after the picture was taken, he had tackled me into the water and rightfully earned a smack on the back of the head. In turn, he did it again.

But before that, we were both looking into the camera with the most joyful expressions—huge grins, bright eyes. Frozen in time.

I never let myself look too long at that picture anymore. And I never, ever looked into his eyes. Green used to be my favourite colour. I didn’t have a favourite colour anymore. It was safe to say I didn’t have a favourite anything anymore; everything favourable was a reminder of him.

I picked up a white knitted sweater off the ground and tugged it over my head, staining it with splotches of dark red. Knowing him, he would wear it regardless—whatever was mine, was also his, and was equally the same in reverse, even things as grotesque as blood.

Well, he would have worn it, I should have said.

The sweater had been specifically tailored for him. I remembered how the soft sleeves hugged his arms so well that every fluid curve of his biceps was visible, similar to a building wave before it crested. On me, the sleeves swallowed my arms whole, which I liked to think in their own unique way had also been unintentionally tailored for me, like someone out there knew one day I would need some way to drown in him when he was gone.

Finnick’s fingers tugged at the silk ribbons, unwrapping the opulent gift box that sat on our dining table. Capitol devotees would send extravagant parcels weekly, turning up in abundance on our doorstep. Sometimes Finnick didn’t even bother opening them; sometimes we opened them together just to get a good laugh out of whatever ridiculous item was inside.

He never, though, opened the perfume-scented letters marked with lipstick stains.

“Oh,” I said in surprise as he lifted the lid. Inside was a folded piece of fabric, knitted and cream-white and intricate, though still simple. It was soft to the touch; thick enough to retain warmth. I held it up with two hands, admiring the hand-sewed threads of cotton. Whoever’s handiwork this was, it was nothing to laugh at.

Holding it up to Finnick’s torso, I smiled and said, “Try it on.”

“What?” He shook his head and smiled quizzically. “No.”

“Yes. I think it will look good on you.” I pressed it further against him with conviction. “Try it on.”

He tilted his head and exhaled deeply through his nose, giving me a begrudging, squinty-eyed look. From that, I already knew I had won him over, and watched as he snatched the sweater from my grasp and tugged his shirt off with one hand. I averted my eyes, feeling the tips of my ears flush with heat—we’d been together for over a year now; you would think I’d have grown accustomed to seeing him shirtless.

His head slipped through the neckline and he pulled the sweater down his body. I was right. It looked really good on him. Perfect, actually. The measurements were so precise that the fabric sloped off his shoulders like a compact mountain of snow. The thick-knitted collar dipped into a deep, uneven neckline that partly revealed his chest and made his neck look like a strong, contoured pillar. He looked at me expectantly, as though to ask, “Well?”

“It makes your neck and shoulders look really nice,” I blurted out, instantly cringing inside.

His expression contorted into something of amusement and surprise as he took a slow step towards me. “My neck and shoulders, huh?” he said, grinning devilishly. Oh, now I’d done it. Leave it to me to rocket Finnick Odair’s already atmospheric ego. “Anything else?”

I began backing away, but his prowling strides were so long that the space between us only shortened. When my backside hit the edge of the dining table, I knew I was done for.

“You know,” I began, avoiding his unrelenting stare. “I think it was just a momentary lapse of judgement.” He was closing in now, placing his hands on either side of my body to trap me in place. “It—It actually looks terrible on you,” I said, feigning sincerity and adding a little nod to help further my case.

His eyelids drooped as he gazed down at me, lips curving into that seductive smirk he had mastered long ago. “No takebacks,” he purred, voice low and gravelly. Dear God, I could only pray I wasn’t going to melt into a puddle on the floor. He always did this—took every opportunity to flirt and render me a stuttering, bashful mess. It was his favourite game to play. “This is now my new favourite shirt. All thanks to you, sweetheart.”

But, given the right timing and ever-wavering amount of confidence, I liked to play too.

I inhaled deeply, hoping my voice wouldn’t betray me. “Maybe you should take it off then,” I said, cocking my head to the side. “So you don’t ruin it.”

His mischievous expression revealed his next words before he even spoke them. “Maybe I will,” he said, and then he was tugging his sweater over his head, and I was tearing off my own. As his hands slipped beneath my thighs and lifted me onto our dining table, I prayed the wooden legs wouldn’t collapse under the weight of our next actions.

My fingertips ran over the soft, rippling patterns on the knitted sleeves, my arms crossed in a self-soothing manner. After that day, the sweater had become a sort of good luck charm—or so we agreed upon as we lay panting on the tabletop. He started wearing it to a multitude of events and parties in the Capitol (basically any place in which he needed a pick-me-up, a reminder of what he had to come home to, who he had to come home to).

He even wore it the day we got engaged.

So many happy memories were associated with this one white sweater. So many times, those cloud-soft sleeves were wrapped around my body, suffocating me in the scent of him—if nothing else, at least that remained.

The last time he had worn it was the day of the Reaping for the Quarter Quell; the last time our lives were ever semi-normal. I had fought tooth and nail to reach him before he was escorted onto the train, despite being ordered, “No goodbyes,” by one of the Peacekeepers. In modest terms, I had significantly decreased his chances of reproduction.

When I reached Finnick, he had brought me into a kiss so harsh and fervent that my lips were bruised the next day. He then yanked off his sweater, leaving his upper body completely exposed to everyone around us in complete disregard for his trauma-induced fear of doing so, and shoved it into my hands.

I had just stood there frozen in bewilderment, watching as he called out, “I love you, sweetheart!” Two Peacekeepers were forcing him onto the train, but he too fought for the last word. “Don’t forget—I’m always with you!”

That statement had never been truer than it was now. For better or for worse.

My vision unblurred as I returned to reality. Dismal, grey light was peeking through the shutters that formed the balcony doors, the daylight hours seeming to tick away at a snail’s pace. I used to wish for the days to be longer, for time to move slower, so I could savour the moments I had of happiness and sunlight which used to be plentiful.

Why do wishes only come true when you grow to desire nothing but the opposite?

Slothfully, I crawled onto the unmade king-size bed, my limbs crumpling and balling to my chest as the side of my head hit the pillow. The imprint on the mattress beneath my body didn’t match my own. It was much larger and broader. How long would it take for the springs to forget his body weight and recoil back into place as though he never existed at all?

I inhaled the sweater’s scent with every breath I took (and I tried not to wonder how long it would take for his scent to disappear as well) and hugged my arms around my waist. No pain was worse than the fleeting moments I forgot the embrace was my own and not his.

Hours passed, and so did the evening. A beautiful orange sunset hadn’t slipped through the shutter’s cracks because the clouds never dissipated. Night-time brought no consolation either. Not even the stars or moon made an appearance. Everything that once gave me a shred of optimism was hidden behind a veil of gloom.

I knew tomorrow wouldn’t be any different—the weather, my mood, his absence. Because the end of autumn was closing in, and the days were becoming bleaker. Trees would start shedding their leaves; the leaves would start to die.

I hoped I would too.

I was still curled up on my side, my body aching with stiffness, when my face began scrunching into this ugly, twisted mess of despair. My tears were slow yet heavy, synonymous with the day I had incurred.

But then something strange happened.

Someone called my name.

No. That couldn’t be right. I was the only one who occupied a house in the Victor’s Village; the others had either relocated after the war or were… dead.

But there it was again—my name, distant and eerie, yet spoken with a tone people often used to beckon over and aid a frightened, injured animal. My vision blurred, both from tears and concentration on the voice.

“Hey.”

I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment my surroundings transformed into a kitchen, just that they had and that I was no longer in my bed but standing upright.

Ahead of me, in the distance, the sun was beating down on the crystalline water, and white frothy waves were cresting on the smooth, golden sand. It was a perfect day; not a cloud was in sight. The only blemish that smeared the blue sky was the reflection staring back at me from the window I gazed out of.

In my hands was a soup bowl and a damp dishrag.

“Sweetheart?” That once distant voice, concerned and beckoning, was standing right beside me.

Blinking, I snapped out of my daze and turned away from the window.

He stood tall beside me, despite being half hunched over the kitchen sink and scrubbing the last of the few dirty dishes stacked neatly on the bench top. His head was turned towards me, his enamoured sea-green eyes peering into my own as though he was searching behind them for what troubled me.

“Hey,” he spoke softly, standing up straight. His touch was warm and gentle as he reached for my hand, leaving soapy bubbles on my palm and fingers. “Where’d you go?”

Three odd things seemed to occur at once: first, I flinched away from his touch, overwhelmed by its paradoxical unfamiliar familiarity; second, I felt an inexpressible relief from seeing him standing before me, seeing his cheeks painted with a soft pink hue as though blood-red roses were hidden just beneath his skin.

The third was an onset of disorientation. I couldn’t tell you why I felt disorientated standing in my own kitchen with the love of my life, just, simply, that I did. There was an answer—it was close by, right under my nose, yet unreachable. We did this every day, didn’t we? We would eat meals together and then wash up together. So, why did I feel so unsettled?

I shook my head, dispelling the confusion that muddled my brain. “Sorry,” I whispered. “I don’t know what happened.” I laughed uneasily, without a hint of mirth.

He laughed too, not to poke fun or because he found my obvious turmoil amusing, but rather to comfort me, so I would feel less alone in my unease. “It’s alright,” he said gently.

Neither of us addressed what had happened; we simply resumed our routine of washing and drying in domestic silence. And as seconds turned to minutes, and as the sky remained sunny, I found myself smiling. All that mattered was that he was standing beside me and that the sun was beaming in the sky. So, I kept smiling.

After I finished drying the last dish, we began placing the plates, bowls, and an abundance of cutlery in their assigned drawers and cupboards, weaving past each other and giggling anytime we got in one another’s path. I was carrying a stack of white plates, eyeing the high cupboard they needed to go in, but before I could even attempt straining onto my toes, the plates were out of my hands and taken into another much larger pair.

The smell of sea salt and expensive cologne wafted from behind me as he towered over my shorter frame and placed the plates in the cupboard.

“I could have done that,” I said, smiling as I turned around to face him.

He had a playful glint in his eye. “Yeah, right. What are you, like, four feet tall?” he joked.

It was an extreme exaggeration since I was no way near that height, but I suppose everyone was miniature in comparison to him, being over six feet tall and all. I feigned open-mouthed offence, to which he gave the side of my head a quick, playful kiss of apology.

He then leaned against the counter with crossed arms. “Plus, when was the last time you actually put these dishes away? I’m surprised you even remember where they go.” He was grinning at me in a teasing manner, but every ounce of humour had drained from my body.

My eyes drifted to the floor.

Well, that was the question, wasn’t it—when was the last time I put the dishes away?

I couldn’t remember. In fact, I couldn’t remember what had happened this morning or the day before. Hell, I couldn’t even remember what we were doing before the dishes.

To be standing in a room, in a place you call home, and have a sense that nothing is in its right place, even though that is where everything has always been, is a disconcerting feeling beyond belief. To be perplexed by your own state of being—your existence—is even worse. I could almost describe it as a nauseating bout of vertigo.

My hands found the counter’s edge behind me, and I exhaled a shaky breath.

He stepped in front of me, one large and gentle hand reaching up to cup my jaw. “Are you okay?” he asked, his forehead wrinkling with shallow worry lines as he inspected my face. I hated that. I hated that I worried him so much. Sure, partners were supposed to lean on each other for support in a relationship (as he too did with me when needed), but I always felt so guilty doing so. Hadn’t he already suffered enough… pain in his lifetime? Who was I to cause him any more?

A sunbeam suffused the room, oozing across his face. The illumination lightened his eyes into a refreshing mint green, though, in contradiction, unearthed a pain that had been previously been concealed. Pain from what, I wasn’t sure. From concern regarding my unusual behaviour? Maybe a thought that was troubling him? Or perhaps he too was enduring a spell of confusion and had an inexplicable feeling that he was out of place.

Whatever his pain regarded, seeing it had rattled the deepest structures in which held my mind together.

It was then that I suddenly realised I hadn’t answered his question, so I gave him a wan “I’m-not-too-sure-myself” smile and then began slinking back to the sink window.

He followed behind me. I could feel him staring into the back of my head, could feel his brows draw together and his lips pull into a tight line, patiently waiting for a further explanation, though I wasn’t sure I could offer him one.

I hadn’t noticed before, but on the windowsill was a small picture frame containing a polaroid picture of us in bed—I was lying on his chest, half-naked and asleep, and he was looking down at me, smiling fondly yet with a sort of mischievous knowability. Running down the middle of the protective glass was a small, jagged crack.

I plucked the frame from the windowsill, inspecting the picture in my two hands. It seemed to uncover a place in my mind—once clouded by disorientation—I’d forgotten. Whether this place was real or imaginary was beyond me, but the fear I felt upon its recollection was incandescently genuine.

“Do you think,” I spoke tentatively, “people can have nightmares while they’re wide awake?” My thumb ran over the crack.

I might have heard him inhale a quiet, sharp breath, but it also could have just been the waves breaking on the distant shore. “Like a flashback?” he asked, an unidentifiable unease in his tone.

“No, not exactly.” I searched my brain for the right words, the right way to tell him how I was feeling, but it was difficult when I could only conjure vague fragments. And it was all I could do to tell it to him elliptically, as I knew saying the words in any other manner would shatter my heart.

“I had this vision,” I began, my words apprehensively staccato, “where I was somewhere else.” My eyes flickered over the picture. “Somewhere… bad. Everything was grey and heavy, and I was alone. Sometimes you were there, but you—you weren’t really you anymore.” I paused and looked up to find him staring at me in the reflection of the window. He looked pained; it was then suddenly hard to recollect a time when he didn’t. My throat started to constrict. “You were gone and…” my voice quietened to a broken wisp of wind, “you were haunting me.”

The room was silent.

He said nothing in response

The transparency of his reflection in the glass was so familiar—so haunting—and it was like another forgotten matter had been dredged from the depths of my mind. Stinging tears brimmed my waterline, and, due to my inability to bear the sight of his translucent appearance, I forced myself to turn around.

I glanced up at him, smiling weakly as I whispered, “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head as if my need to apologise was nonsensical (even I was unsure of what I was apologising for), and he then pulled me into a tight embrace. His chin rested atop my head; my face was buried in his chest, and his arms held me like I was some dilapidated structure that relied on his support to remain upright. Part of me knew this sentiment was correct.

I expected his next words to be ones of consolation or reassurance, maybe an “I’m right here, sweetheart” or an “I’ll never leave you”. Instead, I felt his head turn and heard him say, “Think it’s going to storm?”

With a sniffle, I turned my head towards the window. The arms wrapped around my body tightened as if he somehow knew I would need the extra support. Because when I saw the wall of dark, opaque clouds rolling through the sky towards us, an unshakeable dread zapped through my heart.

My hands clung to the fabric of his cream-white sweater, which then brought to my attention that an inexplicable tingling sensation was spreading down the fingers of my right hand, numbing them.

Lightning flashed on the horizon, and the once serene waves began cresting violently on the shoreline. The dread grew.

Before my attention could drift too far, my name was called again.

I looked up to find those green eyes gazing down at me, swelling with tears. He was crying. Why was he crying? And why was his hair wet? His usually golden strands had darkened to a deep brown and were drenched with cold water that dripped onto my cheeks, and his hair was swept haphazardly across his forehead, a reflection of someone who had just endured an intense storm or had just been fighting for his life against a swarm of—of—

No.

My own eyes began to burn.

“It’s killing me to see you this way,” he spoke, every second word breaking and wavering in volume.

The world seemed to tilt on an axis. Return did the disorientation, ravaging my mind more violently now. “What do you”—My chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths—“What? What do you mean?” My lower lip was quivering, and my eyebrows were scrunched together in confusion. His words replayed in my head: It’s killing me to see you this way.

It’s killing me.

His hair was dripping—no longer with water, but with a thick, red substance that both dripped down and clotted on his skin. He didn’t look pained anymore; he looked like he was in pain.

It’s killing me.

But that can’t be right, can it?

It’s killing me.

Why?

It’s killing me.

Becausemy Finnickwas already dead.

I staggered backwards and out of his, no, this imposter’s arms. He stared at me as blood streamed down his forehead, pouring over his eyelashes and down his cheeks. I was going to be sick. This had to be some sort of cruel joke, a newly invented punishment from Snow. But that wasn’t right either: Snow was dead too.

“F…Fi…” I tried saying his name, my top teeth prodding the inside of my bottom lip, but I couldn’t make a sound.

He took a step towards me, and I almost stumbled onto the floor. “Remember what I told you?” he asked, though it sounded more like an urge.

I frantically shook my head. No, I didn’t remember. I didn’t want to remember anything.

Something dark and mountainous appeared in my peripheral vision, and an odious smell singed my nostrils. My head snapped to the left. Stacks upon stacks of plates and bowls mounded the kitchen sink, each crawling with maggots that were falling to the floor in white, wriggling heaps.

Nausea boiled in my stomach; horror brimmed my eyes.

I quickly turned away, my eyes meeting green again. His face was no longer stained with blood, and his hair was dry, shiny, and golden with life. I was as speechless as my face was drained of blood.

He took one more step toward me, but this time I didn’t back away, either frozen with fear or desperation for one last experience of closeness with him. My heart thrummed as he reached out to cup my face. It isn’t him, it isn’t him, it isn’t him, I repeated madly in my head. Oh, but it felt so much like him when his warm hand met my skin.

“I told you I’m always with you, sweetheart,” he murmured. And I knew engaging with him, in whatever form he took, affirmed my mental unwellness, but I couldn’t stop from leaning into his touch anyway. “Remember that.”

My cheeks were wet with tears. “I love—”

A bolt of lightning flashed, and thunder boomed throughout the house.

I was back in my bed.

My eyelids were heavy with sleep as they fluttered open. I felt detached, destabilised, and unsure of my existence in the world for I wasn’t sure which of the twoI was currently in. Real or fake?

A few minutes went by before I managed to get a grip on reality, which, in fact, was the real one. The Somewhere Bad. I pinched the corners of my eyes, not only finding them damp with fresh tears but also realising that my right hand—previously tucked beneath my head—was numb.

None of it had been real…

The entire time, my body was trying to alert me, to save me from the inescapable heartache I would feel upon waking. He hadn’t held me in his arms. He hadn’t cupped my cheek nor helped me wash the dishes. He wasn’t here. He wasn’t anywhere (not even in his own marked grave because there was nothing left of him to be buried).

Even despite seeing the familiar tall outline standing in the doorway, his features illuminated with each flash of lightning, I knew it wasn’t really him.

Rain was pummelling the roof, almost loud enough to subdue the perpetual rumbling of thunder (apart from the one sky-splitting thunderclap that had woken me). In another time, I would’ve been scared—of the raging storm, of my phantom lover who was watching from the shadows of our bedroom. But not now.

In recent months, I had found that no emotion, not even fear, surpassed the soul-crushing realisation that you have irretrievably lost the one thing you lived for.

On a defeated whim, and for the first time since his death, I let the singular, weighted word breeze past my lips.

“Finnick.”

It was a trembling plea, a desperate beckon.

And he indulged.

His footsteps were silent as he walked towards the bed. I couldn’t see his legs from my position, prompting me to wonder if he even had legs at all. Or did he only have legs when I could see them? That would then insinuate that if I couldn’t see him at all, he didn’t exist.

If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? In my case, the answer was simple: no, it didn’t.

It wasn’t really Finnick. It wasn’t even his ghost. It was my mind.

He reached the bed’s edge, and I scooted over to my side of the mattress, allowing him enough space to lie down on his. His weight neither dipped nor shook the bed as he laid down and turned on his side to face me. His eyes were sad, and I’m sure mine were too. We stared at each other for a long, long time, long enough for my fatigued body to start playing tricks on me.

If I focused hard enough, I thought I could hear the sound of his breathing (the wind was picking up outside), feel the warmth of his skin spreading onto the sheets (the remnants of my own body heat were left behind each time I moved), and smell the musky scent of cologne and sea-salted hair (the sleeves of his sweater were tucked beneath my nose).

Maybe for a moment—just one sickly, self-indulgent moment—I could pretend it was really him.

I inhaled deeply through my nose. “You really weren’t kidding when you said you would haunt the next owner of this house,” I whispered as light-heartedly as I could, my voice obscured by the heavy rain pouring onto the roof.

He smiled, and it was one of the most heart-wrenchingly beautiful things I had ever seen. I think I might have given him one in return, though I couldn’t be too sure because the concept of smiling had become so foreign. The last time I was truly happy was… the last night we spent together. In each other’s arms, safe and warm and together.

And then he was gone. Just like that.

Cressida, whom I had only spoken to once in Thirteen when the war ended, was the one to tell me how it happened. Katniss was too personal, too close to him; Peeta’s instability rendered conversation futile. So, I had asked Cressida to tell me every detail—every expression on his face, every word he screamed. I don’t know why. Maybe it was so I could cling onto those last few minutes where he was still alive and breathing, despite dying and bleeding; or so I could replay the moment over and over in my head, as if somehow, someway, I could change his fate.

“He talked about you all the time,” she had told me. “Actually, I don’t think he ever spoke of anything but you. No one minded, though. While we were out there, no one ever really smiled, but every time your name was mentioned, Finnick would get this great big grin on his face, and it was impossible not to look at him and start smiling as well.

So, we all started asking questions about you: ‘What colour is her hair? Her eyes? Where did you meet? What are her hobbies?’—just to see him smile… A week passed, and it was like we all knew you inside out. It was all we could do to hang on to some shred of happiness, even if it meant talking about a girl who, to all of us, was a stranger.”

I was inconsolable after that.

She kept talking, but my sobs had drowned out most of her words, so much that I had asked her to retell me everything later in the day, despite inducing the same outcome. So, she told it to me again, just as she did the day after that and the day after that and so on until I returned home to District Four.

“He also spoke about how you never felt comfortable living in the Victors Village. He had this idea that the two of you would move somewhere far away, outside the borders of District Four, though he emphasised remaining by the sea was very important—something about how you looked while swimming during sunset and the water was all sparkly around you.”

At this point, she had been holding my hand, knowing full well how debilitating it was for me to hear. Then she had spoken with a quiet incredulity and a facial expression to match, as though she’d never encountered a love like ours before. “He wanted to build a house for you…”

He wanted to build a house for you.

And now he never would. Our love was too ephemeral for that to happen; destined to remain history; to be a memory.

Finnick's eyes stared into mine, the green hue now a dark grey from the overshadowing dimness of the room.

“I would’ve gone anywhere with you,” I whispered to him, placing my hand on the sheets between us. “I would’ve travelled thousands of miles away from this place. Would’ve lived in solitary, just the two of us, for the rest of our lives.” A warm tear tickled the bridge of my nose. His eyebrows scrunched together in shared anguish. “God, Finn, I miss you,” my voice broke. “I miss you so much.”

I contemplated crying, sobbing, screaming, or begging for him to come back, but I was just too tired. All my energy had been spent on grievance throughout the following day, and my eyes were growing heavier by the second as my body was sinking further into a state of relaxation.

Between slow blinks, I watched Finnick’s large hand move to rest atop my own, and at that point, I knew sleep would soon catch me because I swear I could feel his warm touch.

Images flashed through my mind—incomprehensible and melting together, yet somehow still graspable.

Sky blue water rippling with calm waves, the surface glittering in the setting sun. A white stonewall cottage fronted by soft, white sand and tall palm trees. Two plates of fruit-filled yoghurt and scrambled eggs on toast. Three pairs of footprints in the sand, one larger, one smaller, and another between them so delicately tiny I could fit them into the palm of my hand.

Sea-green eyes above me. Golden hair tangled between my fingers. Finnick standing in the wooden doorway of our white stonewall cottage wearing a cream-white sweater and rolled-up slacks. Finnick grinning deeply and then throwing his head back with laughter. Finnick standing in front of our bed, taking my hand in his and guiding me towards him. Finnick. Finnick. Finnick. Finnick. Finnick.

Finnick holding our child.

I was between worlds now, both indistinguishable from the other. My eyelids were drooping, and I was quickly growing insensate. Just before my eyes closed completely, I saw Finnick’s—he who wasn’t really my Finnick—lips move. It wasn’t in my bleak reality in which I heard him speak, but rather in my mind, and God, did his words offer the sweetest relief.

“I’ll see you when you fall asleep.”

589 notes · View notes

dannyriccsupremacy · 11 months ago

Text

now that we don't talk | CL16

| charles leclerc x fem!exgf!reader smau

| summary : charles doesn't do enough to keep his girlfriend and when the internet finds out, they are less than happy.

| faceclaim : christina nadin

| part one here ! part three here !

liked by yourbff, landonorris + 88,634 others

youruser i was so shocked i dropped my @sacreskin out of the bathtub

view all 12,732 comments

yourbff i wonder why you were so shocked 🤔

↳ youruser im not sure whatsoever i dont know why

↳ francisca.cgomes sweetie what are you hiding from us?

user shes had such a glow up since the break up

user post charles glow!

user you're so pretty!

user sacre literally saved my skin!! thank you 💋

↳ youruser omg im so happy for you!

bellahadid i love sacre!

liked by youruser, charles_leclerc + 20,265 others

sacreskin new products dropping soon! as modelled by our lovely founder @youruser

view all 2,076 comments

user charles, bby, why are you in the likes?

user what is charles doing here?

user shoo charles shoo

youruser i'm so excited for this drop! you're all going to love it!

↳ user girly why is charles here

yourbff this is the cream she dropped on the floor outside the bathtub

↳ user yn being exposed by bff once again

user i will go broke spending all my money on them.

yn was getting ready to go to dinner with her bff, when she heard a sudden knok at the door. glancing at the time, she assumed it was her bff, who was just extremely early- probably to get ready together. they pounded on the door again, becoming impatient.

"yeah, coming. calm your farm!" yn called, making her way to the door.

she wasn't looking at the door as she opened it, trying to dig through her makeup bag to find her beauty blender. as they walked through the door, yn actually glanced up at them, "charlie? what are you doing here?"

he continued walking through the hallway, taking in yn's new home, "you just let me in."

she followed behind him, ditching her makeup bag, "i wouldn't have if i knew it was you!"

"oh come on, yn, we both know you would have." charles stopped in her kitchen and turned around to face her.

"i wouldn't of." yn stood her ground.

they stared at each other for a moment, before yn began moving, stopping behind charles and putting both of her hands straight into her back. charles stumbled forward, and turned around, staring at yn with an unbelieving look on his face.

"what was that for?" he exclaimed.

"get out!" yn replied, pointing towards her door.

"i'm not leaving until we talk." charles stood his ground, this time ready for her shove, not moving.

"fine. you have like five minutes. i have plans." yn gave in, pulling out one of her kitchen stools to sit on.

charles followed suit, pulling out the stool next to hers and turning to face her, "i'm sorry."

yn laughed, almost spitting in charles' face.

"i am. i miss the old ways. i miss you. what can we do to fix us?" charles asked, sincerity in his eyes.

"nothing, charlie. there is no 'us' anymore." yn softly replied.

"surely there is something we can do?" charles pleaded, debating whether he should literally get on his hands and knees and beg.

"no charles. we're done-" charles began to speak, cutting her off, by she silenced him with a look, "look, i called my mum and the first thing she said was that 'it was for the best'. i have to remind myself that, the more i gave, you'd want me less. i can't be your friend. it's just better, now that we don't talk."

"you don't mean that." charles muttered, lowering his eyes to his fidgeting hands.

"i do. i don't have to pretend that i want to be on a mega yacht, with important men, who think important thoughts. i'm on my way back to my dignity." yn argued, her voice pulling charles' eyes up to hers.

"yn, i will do anything to fix it. i'm so sorry. it's all my fault. yn, please." charles begged.

"you know i had to tell your friends, the ones we shared dinners and long weekends with?" yn asked, "i had to pretend it was platonic, but we'd just ended."

"yn, i'm willing to do anything to get you back again. just give me one more chance." charles pleaded.

"no. charlie. it's best now that we don't talk." yn raised from her seat and grabbed his hand, which he immediately latched onto. she easily led him away from her kitchen and to her door, leaving him standing in her hallway, but not before planting a kiss on his cheek.

youruser just posted a story!

"he said what?!" your best friend exclaimed, her eyes bascially buldging out of her head.

"what. an. asshole." julia, a girl in the club bathroom added in.

yn and her bff had sat in the club bathroom for the past hour, relaying the story of her afternoon to her bff and the other three women who had sat there to help the pair shit talk charles.

"i think i would've punched him in the face, honestly." chloe scoffed.

"how did he even get your new address?" amelia asked, "is he stalking you?"

yn pondered for a moment, "i think pierre probably gave it to him. but enough about me and my shitty ex. why are you three crying in the club bathroom?"

"the guy i'm talking to right now, he is so not over his ex and he is just like, leading me along." amelia answered, slightly shrugging.

"what is with men and being assholes?" yn shook her head, "you deserve so much better. dump him!"

"he's so hot though!" amelia rebutted.

"hot guys are usually the worst ones." chloe said, earning nods of agreement from the rest of the group.

"you're better than this." your bff assured amelia, placing a comforting hand on her arm. amelia gave a small smile, one that didn't meet her eyes, and nodded.

"come on. let's just get drunk and forget about all the asshole men in this world. in this stupid little tiny country." yn stated, jumping off the counter and clasping her hands.

"unless they buy us drinks." julia added.

"unless they buy us drinks." yn reaffirmed

authors note thank you guys for so much love on my first post, it's actually mad! also thank you for everyone who requested a part 2. idk if this is very good and its not very long, but here we are! also if you want to be tagged please leave a comment!

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httpsdana · 2 months ago

Note

hey!

love your work! i was wondering if you could do one about pau cubarsi and they get a pet and she pays all her attention to the pet and pau gets jealous or smthg?

thank you sm 💕

Puppy Love~Pau Cubarsi

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

From the moment y/n and Pau brought home their new puppy, Mochi, it was pure love. They'd both been so excited, planning out every little detail: his bed, his toys, the cutest little collar, and spending way too long debating whether “Mochi” or “Tofu” was the perfect name. Eventually, Mochi won out, and now here he was, a fluffy little ball of mischief that they both adored like their own child.

Pau was obsessed from the start. He would cradle Mochi in his arms, cooing, “Mi amor, look at him! He’s already the most handsome boy in the world. Right, Mochi? You’re perfect.”

She'd laugh at his cuteness, running her fingers through Mochi’s soft fur. “Wow, I think I have some competition now.”

Pau smirked, giving her a wink. “Sorry, cariño. Mochi and I? Unstoppable duo. He’s basically my mini-me.”

“Oh, so he’s already dramatic about mealtimes and leaving crumbs everywhere?” she teased with a smile

Pau gasped, clutching his chest. “Excuse me, I am not dramatic, and I clean up my crumbs… sometimes.”

The early days with Mochi were filled with laughter and cuddles, both of them cooing over every little thing he did. The two of them doted on him together, taking turns waking up in the middle of the night when he’d whimper or need to go outside, racing each other to see who could make it to Mochi first when he called for attention.

But soon, Pau’s schedule got a bit busier. He was away more for practices and games, and y/n found herself spending more and more time with Mochi. While Pau was out, she'd have little “puppy and me” dates, complete with treats, belly rubs, and mini photoshoots where she would send the funniest pictures to Pau, captioned with things like, Look at your competition or Mochi says he’s the new man of the house.

Pau would text back immediately. No way. Mochi can’t be half as charming as me. But then he’d send three heart emojis and demand more photos.

One evening, after a long day, Pau came home, eager for some quality time. He walked in to see y/n sprawled on the couch with Mochi stretched out across her chest, his tiny head resting comfortably as she scratched his belly.

Pau stopped in his tracks, crossing his arms and giving her both an exaggerated pout. “I’m gone for a few hours, and this is what I come back to?”

She looked up, stifling a laugh at the face he was making. “Jealous of Mochi, are we?”

He put a hand to his chest, looking utterly wounded. “Me? Jealous? Absolutely. This used to be my spot, you know,” he grumbled, nodding at the spot on her chest where Mochi was curled up. “I used to get those head scratches, too.”

“Oh, bebé, come here,” she cooed, setting Mochi down gently before opening her arms. Pau took his chance, practically launching himself onto the couch to snuggle up to her.

“Finally,” he sighed dramatically, burying his face in her neck. “About time you give me some attention.” His tone was teasing, but he looked so adorable that she couldn’t help but laugh.

y/n wrapped her arms around him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Aww, you poor thing. Mochi just missed you. I missed you, too,” she said, rubbing his back soothingly.

“Oh, good. Because I was about to start howling for attention myself,” he joked, causing her to burst out laughing.

“Maybe Mochi has been teaching you a thing or two,” she teased, ruffling Pau’s hair just like she did with Mochi.

Pau grinned, snuggling closer. “So, you’re saying I need to be more puppy-like? Alright then.” He scrunched up his face and gave a dramatic little whimper, making puppy eyes at her.

She playfully rolled her eyes, laughing as she stroked his hair. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Ridiculously cute?” he asked with a hopeful grin, his eyes twinkling as he leaned in for a kiss.

“Alright, yes, ridiculously cute,” she admitted, kissing him softly.

Mochi, clearly curious about the attention shift, clambered back onto the couch, settling down between y/n and Pau, his little tail wagging as he looked up at the two of them.

Pau raised an eyebrow, looking at Mochi. “Oh no, you’re not stealing my girl again,” he warned playfully. “Go on, go chew a toy or something.”

But Mochi just flopped down, resting his little head on her lap, looking far too adorable to move.

Pau sighed, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. My own puppy is trying to sabotage me,” he said, though his face softened as he reached over to scratch Mochi’s ears. “Alright, fine, maybe we can share the lap.”

y/n laughed, leaning over to give Pau a kiss. “Face it, babe, we’re a package deal now. You, me, and Mochi.”

Pau’s face lit up as he kissed her back, pulling her closer. “As long as I get first dibs on goodnight kisses. Deal?”

“Deal,” she agreed, grinning as she wrapped herself up in his embrace, Mochi happily snuggled between them.

From that day on, Pau made sure to reclaim his spot in the cutest ways— “accidentally” bumping Mochi aside to curl up in her lap or dramatically announcing his need for “emergency cuddles” whenever he saw her petting the puppy. The three of them settled into a perfectly fluffy routine, filled with laughter, and many sweet moments.

In the end, they both knew they’d created a little family, with enough love to go around—Mochi included, of course.

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astr-venus · 2 months ago

Text

｡⁠☆ Who Is This Diva✦

｡⁠☆Content: Izuku Midoriya BF headcanons

｡⁠☆Cw: a few uses of she/her, one singular pregnancy mention, no use of y/n, light cursing

✦ Always writing in that damn notebook, there is nothing you can say or do that won't end up there

✦ If you're creeped out by it, he will commit what you said to memory and write it down later

✦ The best gift giver. He notices everything about you. From your face to your body to your brain. All of his gifts are thoughtful

✦ Didn't know how to do his own hair until Mina showed him, however if you know how to do it he'll play dumb

"My hair... ? Y-Yeah, Mina normally helps me with it, b-but I seen you take care of your own so... Do you mind helping me instead ? Not that Mina isn't great, b-but she isn't you... Sorry, is that a weird thing to say ?"

✦ Sometimes YOU are the third wheel when Katsuki's around. Good luck with that.

✦ Nervous forever. Constantly apologizing. Trips over everything when you're around. His face is always bright red. Nervous talker for sure. Heaven forbid you compliment him, he might pass out on the spot

✦ He stays on Uraraka's phone. He needs advice before he does anything, especially if you're a girl. He used to take advice from Kaminari, and then he learned his lesson (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

"I-It's not sexist to assume she likes flowers just cause she's a girl right ?.... What ?! Of course I know that not all girls like flowers !! .... N-No way I can't just ask her. What if she thinks I'm weird" (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

✦ Doodles you everywhere. Aizawa is fed up with the scribbled pictures of you in all the corners of his homework. He's debating whether or not he should take point off his papers just to get him to stop. Mic and All Might think it's cute

✦ All this to say he is the sweetest ever. He makes sure to know every single thing about you, it borders on obsession. He follows you around like a lost puppy. His receiving love language is physical touch/quality time, and his giving love language is gift giving and acts of service

✦ Izuku is selfless to a fault, but when it comes to you he can't help but be selfish. No matter how much he gives to you, he feels justified because your love, affection, time, and attention, is the ultimate prize.

☆ PROHERO ☆

✦ Interviewers are tired of hearing about you. Any questions lead right back to what you're doing, something you've said, what you think, what you look like. It doesn't matter as long as it's about you

✦ Puts your needs first which can be really nice, but definitely neglects himself in the process. Like this man has chronic pain in his hands, but will stay up until ungodly hours giving himself carpal tunnel making something that you didn't even ask for just bc he knew you'd like it

✦ If you're not a prohero (hell, even if you are), Izuku is overprotective. His worst fear is you being taken from him in any sense of the word. Losing you isn't something he would ever get over

✦ Rarely ever yells, but when he does he sounds just like Katsuki. It's annoying how much like Katsuki he sounds. Otherwise though, he prefers to concede to whatever you want, the only time serious arguments occur is if it's about something like your safety

"Shouto, I'm gonna throw myself off a cliff... No she's not hurt she's perfectly fine don't even joke about that !!! .... The problem ? Shou she's so mad at me.... Don't look at me like that, I'm serious !"

✦ A sass monster. Rarely ever to your face, most of the time it's just a mutter under his breath that you barely catch but you just know he said something smart.

✦ If your first language isn't Japanese then trust and believe he's learning whatever your native tongue is. He has the cutest accent too. If he's feeling bold he'll use your lessons as an excuse to flirt with you, and after that there's a high chance you won't get anything done

✦ NOT a morning person. Clings to you and the bed like his life depends on it. Moaning and groaning in your ears about how mean you are to him, how could you make him get up for early morning patrol ? Death for 10 thousand years have been cursed upon him.

"Hmm ? I don' care 'bour the alarm. Turn it off... Where you goin' ? Noooo don' go shh i's okay, mhmm it snoozes itself. Jus' lay back down, yeah 'xactly baby.... Hmm ? Late ? Patrol ? OHMYGOD PATROL !!"

✦ Pet name extraordinaire. It takes a while until he finds his favorite, so he spends his time cycling through all types of sweet names. Anything from baby to darling to pookiebear to beautiful. He probably doesn't stray too far into weird names, but he dips his toes in if it feels right.

✦ Won't admit it, but he loves it when you flaunt him to your friends. Makes him feel like a big strong man, especially when you feel up his arms. His face flushes bright red and he tries to wave it off but he stutters so much that his sentence is barely distinguishable, but of course that only makes you want to do it more

✦ When you get married it's honestly been inevitable, especially if you met while in highschool. If it was only up to Izuku you would've been married within the month, but lucky for you he has self restraint. If you both want kids they truly won't be far behind marriage, and if you thought he was obsessive before just imagine if you get pregnant.

First post,, how exciting !! Not sure if I'm sticking with this format, but I think I like it. My blog is almost completely set up and I have a few reblogs so... My askbox is open if you so please (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

Who f/w black Izuku like I do ?? 🗣️🗣️

｡⁠☆Requests open

#midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya izuku x you #deku x reader #deku x y/n #deku x you #mha x reader #mha x you #mha x y/n #black reader #˗ˏˋ ★ Deku ★ ˎˊ˗#˗ˏˋ ★ MHA ★ ˎˊ˗#˗ˏˋ ★ Venus writes ★ ˎˊ˗

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moshpitgamma · 1 year ago

Text

My Sunflower|| John Dory x Fiancé!Reader

Warnings:Angst+Fluff

(This is my first real fanfic so Plss don’t be TOO harsh)

YALL ITS LONG OK😭

——————————————————————

“John! I’m home!” Said the exhausted troll walking through the door of their shared apartment. “Huh? Damn it’s 9pm.” Y/n said checking the time. “Hun, You here?” They screamed again wondering why their fiancé wasn’t answering. When they didn’t get a response they started to get anxious, but convinced themselves he went to either the studio or to hang out with his brothers.

The clock finally hits 11:03pm and still there isn’t a sign of JD. “Why isn’t he answering his phone?” You said with worry laced in your voice. His brothers also didn’t answer their phones for god knows what. Now you’re in full panic mode pacing back and forth in the dining room blowing UP his phone with messages and calls. After your many failed attempts of contacting him you finally decided to call the only person you KNEW that was gonna pick up. So you called his grandma.

Once she answered you tried to hide your anxiousness and your panicked voice, but she caught on to it quickly. “Hi Mrs. Rosie, do you know where John is? I haven’t spoke to him since this morning before I went to work.” You asked frantically hoping that she would cure the pulsating adrenaline going through your body. When you finished your nauseating questions the silence you both held was fueling it like you were going to burst. When the never ending silence finally came to an end a sigh was heard. "Hun Bun….JD left hours ago after their embarrassing show fail." she told you with reassurance and empathy. She then continued to tell you how and what happened between the brothers. The last thing you ever heard from her was “Sweetie just give it time.” So you waited…

And waited….

Until 20 years have passed and still no sign of John. You were invited to the royal wedding of King Grisel and Bridget and was currently trying to find a dress. While rampaging you closet like a mad woman you come across and unfamiliar bagged dress. When you took it out you stared at it with tears welling up in your eyes. It was your dress he proposed to you in. It was admired in jewels and yellow sunflower like petals and soft like satin and silk. It was one of a kind. Your debating stopped instantly and you proceeded to put on the dress.

FAST FORWARD TO WEDDING :>

“We are gathered here today t-.” “STOP THE WEDDING!” A random voice yelled…

You felt like your heart was going to jump out your chest from all the adrenaline rushing. Trying to force your tears down you finally built enough courage to turn around and look to where everyone else was looking. When you finally saw who it was your tears finally escaped their haunted and sorrowful chamber. He was there……

Standing in front of Branch?

Trying to pick him up?

You didn’t wanna get noticed in this state so you turned to leave but you felt a hand grab your flushed smaller ones. It was Branch..”Are you ok?”he asked knowing you weren’t. “I’m ok.” You said quickly dismissing his attempts of comfort. Before you could leave you heard a nickname you never knew you would hear again. “My sunflower?” He must’ve felt the tension he created so he hurried to you and begged you too listen to his explanations and excuses. You couldn’t do nothing, BUT listen so you gave him 3 minutes. “The reason I left was because Brozone was turning into a disaster and I needed to just space myself away for a while!”

You didn’t know whether to be mad or sad or HELL even glad but you knew he was trying to get you to understand. “But did you have to go?” Tears welling up..

Silence…….

“Did you have to leave me alone without telling me ANYTHING?!!?”

“I-“ you didn’t let him finish before you started walking off letting the emotions and realization sink in. He knew he fucked up… He couldn’t let you leave…. He needed his flower…He ran up to you and hugged you as hard as he could to prevent you from leaving and cried like hell was dragging him away from the heaven he created with you. “Sunflower PLEASE, I promise I’ll never leave you again!!” He repeated like his life depended on it. You slowly started to give in and soothed him. “Please Hun, I promise I’ll pro-“ He couldn’t even get done with his sentence before feeling the feeling he oh so missed….

Your lips…

“Please Don’t leave me again.” You said barely above a whisper and your teary E/C eyes looked at him.

He smiled warmly and responded with nothing but sincerity..”Of course not my sunflower.”

THE ENDDDDDDD☺️🫶🏿

#trolls #brozone #brozone x reader #trolls branch #john dory #John dory x reader #trolls john dory #trolls band together

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spreadyovrwings · 5 months ago

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Honey, I Can Feel Your Pain

A late night heart-to-heart before the end of the world. Or, two idiots try to talk about their feelings but they’re both demons and not very good at it.

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: my writing/me trying to navigate a complicated character, i cringe therefore i am

A/N: literally just ignore me lol i wanted to see if i could write Alastor well so this is something of a personal challenge and a warm up for me (and i’m obsessed with him) so hopefully i’ve done him justice. there’ll be a part two if anyone wants one!

Chapter One

The door to Alastor’s studio was always locked to everyone but you. You weren’t sure how he did it. He was a complete technophobe, so a hidden camera was out of the question. Perhaps he’d cast some sort of spell or could sense you coming. You weren’t sure. All you knew was that if you needed to see him, and Alastor permitted it, his door was always open.

That night, the radio tower was dark and still, the only sound a slow, jazzy number sent oozing over the city and into people’s homes.

You found Alastor at his sound desk, one long finger poised idly on a bakelite dial, as if debating whether to alter the sound his tower produced. His ever-present smile was fixed in place but his lips were closed, his deep red eyes focused.

You tapped your foot against the floor, once, twice, three times, announcing your presence as gently as you could so as not to disturb him too abruptly. It didn’t matter that Alastor had to let you in in the first place, it always seemed impolite to come barging in.

He didn’t look up as you approached but you could tell you had his attention, and when you put your hand on the back of the chair next to his, a question, he answered with a short nod.

“Are you alright?”

Alastor barely moved, his eyes fixed on the glowing buttons and dials in front of him.

“Fine, fine.”

He spoke faintly, airily, with no hint of static, as if he were lost in thought. You couldn’t help feeling like you’d interrupted a private moment.

“It’s just you’ve been locked away in your room for days now.”

“Hard at work! Nothing more.”

As if to prove a point, Alastor wrapped his long fingers around the dial and adjusted the volume, then slid his fingers along the desk to conjure up the next song.

This tune was a lot more uptempo. It wasn’t like Alastor to be so sloppy, you must really have caught him off-guard.

Alastor seemed to realise his mistake too. He turned to you, leaning back in his chair, exuding a confidence and poise that many envied and few saw through.

“Is there something I can help you with, my dear?”

His attention was yours. Too late to go back now.

“You’ve been quiet ever since Charlie came back from Heaven.”

“Well, I-”

“And you don’t go quiet,” you pressed on, refusing to let him chart the course of your conversion. “So what’s wrong?”

The two halves of his face told two different stories. Alastor’s eyes were fiery and guarded, he didn’t like being questioned but you’d cornered him. Below, his smile stretched his skin. You wondered if it hurt.

“I’ve been reviewing the situation,” he said after a thoughtful pause, every word considered and weighed.

“You’ve missed dinner four nights in a row for that? I made all your favourites to try and entice you down, you know.”

Alastor hummed. He wasn’t listening.

“Do you know, for almost one hundred years, I have lived here quite happily. I’ve carved out a nice little niche for myself. And then the princess started getting bright ideas…”

Alastor’s long fingers danced over the faders again but he didn’t move any of them. It seemed to be the habit of a lifetime. Two lifetimes.

“The angels… Unsettled me. And you’re quite right, I don’t get unsettled. It required meditation.”

“The angels unnerved you?”

“Unsettled. But I suppose there’s not much point arguing over semantics. Either way, the result n’est pas bon, cher.”

“What did they say that unsettled you?”

One of Alastor’s ears flicked in irritation. It was a rare thing for him to give away even that much. It was a particular kind of personal hell, for him to have a body that could betray him so visibly. He could rattle everyone with his big grin, he could even hide pain behind walled eyes, but the attributes given to him, gifted to him, shackled to him, when he fell, weren't so easy to control.

“It’s not quite that simple, my dear. The angels are all bluster and hollow virtues. I care very little about what they have to say, the self-righteous...”

He took a breath.

“But then they halved the time till the next Extermination. It’s of little consequence to me. They’re clever enough to leave me alone most of the time and if any angels do try their luck, well, they’re quietly done away with. Plus, it’s just plain old good sport to watch the show.”

You smiled.

“Might have to disagree with you there, handsome.”

Alastor laughed humourlessly, a dry, sharp sound like a bow pulled roughly against violin strings.

“That’s just it, I might too. The issue is… Now it’s only a few weeks away…”

The song changed. Low, smooth, like sand through an hourglass, a single trumpet groaned into life, filling the room before disintegrating and travelling along the airwaves. Was it a distraction? Was Alastor struggling to hold his focus? Who knew? Maybe not even him.

“Alastor,” You leaned forward in your chair, undeterred by his hesitancy. “What’s wrong?”

His gaze slowly slid to you. The close-mouthed smile was back. It was the closest he ever came, or ever could come, to relaxing his expression completely.

“It usually doesn’t bother me,” Alastor murmured, his words barely audible over crackling static.

You frowned.

“But this time it did?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Alastor’s nose wrinkled.

“Because before, I didn’t have you. It was easier. I’ve never relied on anyone or had anyone relying on me. Now there’s the hotel, its inhabitants…”

You remedied the sting with a vacant smile of your own.

“When you say ‘you’, you mean all our friends?”

Alastor shook his head.

“No. No, I was attempting to obfuscate.”

“Oh.”

Alastor stared at you. You stared back. Then, with a clang, the penny dropped.

“Oh!”

“Mm.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Quite.”

You smiled at his sour expression. Your own face was burning but you bravely ignored it.

Your relationship with Alastor had been a nebulous, vague sort of a thing. He was a terrifying colleague to have at the hotel, and at first, you couldn’t be sure why in Hell he was there. He liked to watch others struggle, suffer, and fail miserably, it was all just good entertainment for him. But that couldn’t be all there was behind his sudden interest.

As soon as you figured out that Alastor served himself and himself only, things became a lot clearer, and it was a lot easier to like him. You didn’t have to worry about trusting him, because you couldn’t. You didn’t have to question his motives, you knew they were ill-intentioned and that you were better off not knowing. He liked to pretend he was oh so mysterious, but Alastor was perhaps the most honest person in the hotel.

Mutual respect grew into friendship, into something more. You often went out with Alastor when he required assistance or just wanted some company, and you were always the first person he came to when he got home.

Slowly, incrementally, that trust bloomed. Alastor began to ask for your opinion. You would sit together in companionable silence, reading by the fire long into the night. He didn’t need to ensnare and trick and manipulate you, because you did things for him happily and without question, though within reason.

He was always honest with you, or at least, as honest as he could be without it endangering his own self-preservation. And you respected that. It was a harsh world, you had to look out for yourself, but slowly, so slowly that neither you nor your friends had noticed until it was too late, Alastor had bound his life to yours.

You hadn’t appreciated the depths of that connection. You’d always known you had a soft spot for him, ill-advised as it was, but never in all that remained of your afterlife could you have anticipated a requited affection.

Alastor interlocked his fingers and rested them in his lap, keeping his composure well considering the situation.

“It pains me to think of you in danger.”

You couldn’t help it, you laughed quietly.

“Steady now, Alastor. You sure know how to sweep someone off their feet.”

He’d never rolled his eyes at you, he was far too refined for that, but Alastor gave his equivalent, waving an airy hand at you and soldiering on.

“We have always been close, you and I. Right from the start.”

“That’s not how I remember it but…” You smiled. “I like to think of us as a little team.”

He brightened, his pained smile morphing into something a little more authentic.

“Exactly! A team! But what was once companionship and, admittedly, amusement-”

“Do you mean we have fun together or do you mean amusement at my expense?”

Alastor waved his hand again.

“A little of column A, a little of column B.”

“Wonderful.”

“What I mean to say is… My feelings have evolved somewhat.”

In all the time you’d spent with him, you’d never known Alastor to be so hesitant. In fact, you couldn’t remember a time when you’d seen him show any sign of apprehension. His stitched-on smile was still intact but his clawed fingers drummed against the sound desk and his gaze had been lost in safer ground, somewhere over your shoulder.

“Evolved into what?”

Though your heart was thudding in your ears, you didn’t hesitate to push him. You thought one of the reasons Alastor had grown to enjoy your company so much was that you liked to talk, as well as listen. He got bored so easily and he’d always been a chatterbox; you were one of the few people in his life who could match him in that without any sign of fear or an ulterior motive.

Alastor’s ear flicked again. This was a hard conversation for him.

“The Extermination meant nothing to me before. But now, the thought of it…”

You watched his eyes grow unfocused as his imagination consumed him. His fingers stopped drumming. The song on the radio rose by a few decibels.

“Alastor, it’s okay-”

“It frightens me. And it’s not about self-preservation this time. When I consider how our companions may fare…”

“They’ll be okay.”

“What if I can’t protect you?”

Sensing you might need to ease off, take a breath, anything, you leaned in closer, reaching out for him but never, ever touching him without asking first. Instead, you rested your hand beside his on the desk.

“I don’t need protection, Alastor.”

“Still, I want to keep you safe, my darling. There’s a… A sharp tug here…”

He pressed one clawed hand against his empty chest.

“And here…”

He dragged the same hand down to the pit of his lean stomach.

“When I think about you in any kind of danger.”

How did he always manage to be so charming, even when he didn’t mean to be?

You barely held back a pleased smile. Like Alastor’s, it tugged at the corners of your mouth, threatening to spill over into a stupid, happy grin.

He didn’t have the language for what he felt, that was fine. You and Alastor had always found a way to communicate, even without words. He’d told you more with one gesture than you ever could have expected him to say aloud.

But it wasn't just unexpected, it was completely astonishing. You couldn’t let him sense that though, it might make him retreat into himself. So instead, you turned it back around on him, letting Alastor choose how much he wanted to give away.

“What do you think that could be?”

“I have an idea. But I dread to think.”

Alastor’s eyes narrowed slightly, and you knew you were on the same page.

It would be difficult for him, far more than it had been for you, to pin down and explore and accept the feelings you had for each other. You hadn’t been able to figure out a better word for whatever it was that fizzled between you, though, like Alastor, you had a sneaking suspicion and it terrified you.

Nothing sounded right. Logically, you knew there were some words that ought to fit, but acknowledging them felt like wearing someone else’s shoes.

You couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be for Alastor to come to terms with it all. So it surprised you when he slid his hand over yours.

It wasn’t the first time you’d touched, he was always holding out his arm for you, patting the top of your head, often even lifting your hand to his lips when he greeted you in the mornings or bade you goodnight. But this wasn’t a fleeting brush of his hand against yours, this was sustained, purposeful contact, and it meant something, to both of you.

Alastor’s gaze still couldn’t meet yours, so he stared at your hands, his close-mouthed smile back in place.

“I’ve grown quite fond of you,” he said quietly, and it was just his voice you could hear, no static, no sound effects, just Alastor.

You smiled.

“I’ve grown quite fond of you too, handsome. I get the same feeling.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, all the time.”

“Oh, well, that’s reassuring, at least.” Alastor finally met your eyes, his head tilted quizzically to one side. “Have you told anyone?”

“What, and admit I’m in love with the Radio Demon? No thanks, I’d never live it down.”

Feedback shot through the room, a grating, warped sound, like someone had held a microphone too close to a speaker. It was hard to tell if the sound emanated from the mixing desk or from Alastor himself, but his scarlet eyes were wide.

His hand tightened over yours, though it was more likely out of surprise than him trying to give you comfort. The tips and edges of his sharp claws dug into your skin, not enough to hurt, but it still made your jaw clench.

Alastor, to his credit, didn’t seem as put off by the admission than you might’ve expected. Maybe he wasn’t surprised by the actual sentiment, just that you’d finally said the words out loud.

You smiled.

With just a week or so left until an Extermination that would surely kill you all, there wasn’t much room left in your damned soul for shyness. It wasn’t an all-out ‘if this is my last chance to say it’ confession. You and Alastor had always appreciated candour, and with so little time left, why not say what you were both thinking?

“Have you spoken about it with anyone?”

Alastor shrugged.

“Well, yes, I’m doing it now.”

“No, I meant someone you can trust. Someone you can talk about your feelings with.”

Alastor watched you blankly.

A second penny dropped.

“Oh.”

You had to resist the urge to shiver under his heavy stare.

“You couldn’t talk to Rosie?”

“I considered it but, bless her heart, my old friend can be a sentimentalist. No, best just to get to the source of the problem.”

“Alastor…”

You huffed, pretending to be insulted, and Alastor’s smile once again looked a little more real. It met his eyes, open, unguarded and calm.

“So, what would you like to do about it?”

“Hmm,” Alastor raised the hand that had covered yours to tap one long finger against his chin. “Any chance you’d let me lock you away in a secret, impenetrable bunker?”

Your smile grew.

“Sorry, honey.”

Alastor tutted.

“I thought as much.”

“Do you have one of those?”

“Hm?”

“A secret, impenetrable bunker.”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out, my dear. You’ll just have to be particularly careful. And perhaps this… Feeling will go away with time.”

You smiled, barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Perhaps it will.”

“When I’m right, I’m right, my darling.”

”That’s not the expression and you know it.”

Master List

#alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor fic #hazbin hotel fic

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someonefear · 5 months ago

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||SLEEPLESS NIGHTS||

I rubbed my eyes, another sleepless night it seems. Ever since Lady Bone Demon has been defeated and even before, some nights were more troublesome than others. I took my blanket, wrapped myself and walked to the living room just to see empty couch and opened balcony doors.

On the railing of the balcony a certain dark furred monkey was sitting peacefuly watching stars as they beautifully glowed throught night sky. Looks like I wasn't the only some up now, we lived toghether for few months, knew each other for a long time.

I watched Macaque from behind the door frame debating whether should I join him. With a sigh I dragged rest of the blanket on floor as I've went to the balcony, sat next to the simian.

No words were needed, I took part of my blanket and wrapped it around him too, put down my head on his shoulder. Macaque then wrapped his arm around me and pushed to him.

Maybe sleepless nights aren't that bad.

#lmk x reader #macaque x reader #lmk macaque x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lmk #lmk macaque #lego monkie kid macaque #six eared macaque #macaque x y/n #lmk x y/n #lego monkie kid x y/n #lmk macaque x y/n #malina;fics

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daddyricsdoll · 9 months ago

Note

“Oh that dress looks great on you, but it would look even better on the floor.” with Fernando Alonso

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Being with Fernando throughout the whole season was usually always interesting. Except for the days where he was busy with team meetings and testing, leaving me alone. But the difference between Fernando and any other man was that he planned the perfect day for me. Trying his best to research the city and pinpoint any place that would peak my interest.

And like always I’d fall in love with him a million more times, in advance of feeling guilty for all the money he intended to spend on me. Making me sometimes refuse his gifts, but always letting him know I do it because I love him.

But this time he didn’t let me refuse it. Handing me his card and telling me to spend it on myself. Showing me photos and screenshots of dresses he was certain I’d like, and if I bought them, I wouldn’t be the only one with a smile on my face.

“How was it?” Fernando asks as I walk through the door, a grin on his already glowing face.

“It was actually really good. Thank you, and… I got you something. WIth my own money of course.” I say, searching through one of the bags that I just placed on the floor.

“No, show me what you got yourself. Put it on for me.” Fernando says so smoothly, a proud smirk dawning his lips.

“For you… always.” I smile at Fernando, grabbing a couple of bags and walking toward him to plant a devoting kiss on his lips before eventually making my way to the bathroom.

Pulling my favourite dress out of the bag, I hold it against my body. Looking at myself in the mirror and smiling before actually putting it on. Taking off nearly all my clothes and debating whether I keep my panties on because of underwear lines. Making my decision of being bare beneath the dress, not only for looks, but I needed some fun. Even though I knew it would come, I just begged for it to be closer.

Ultimately sliding the dress on and gliding my hands down my body. Being in content with my curves and the way the fabric holds them perfectly. How the dress itself is gorgeous but doesn’t distract you from the person wearing it.

“Princesa? You ok?” Fernando calls out, his voice not far from the door, helping me remember what I’m supposed to be doing. And instead of answering, I grab the door handle. Pulling it open and watching the way awe fills his eyes. Somehow still astonished at the same thing he’s been seeing for many months.

“Oh princesa,” He steps closer to me, holding his arms out and letting me walk into them. “You look great, so beautiful in that dress… but right now, it would look even better on the floor.” You would assume this has happened millions of times by the way I can hear the smirk on his lips as he speaks into my ear. Fernando's hands that were recently on my hips now skim up my back to drag the zipper down. Doing it so delicately, sure to not ruin the dress, but instead, me.

Managing to slip it down my body and reveal how fully exposed I am to him. “Fuck. You really couldn’t wait huh?” Not giving me time to answer as he pulls my face into his. Lips wrapping around the others like a default. The only difference being the hunger and desire that ran through us both. Nearly eating at each other.

“I need a taste.” Fernando breathes out against my skin. Grabbing the backs of my thighs and lifting me up to take me to the bed. Not holding me for long as he lowered me onto the soft duvet. Making sure my legs hang off the end of the bed and his head can fit between my legs.

I try to keep my hands on Fernando, my fingers threading through his hair while he kneels in front of me. Pulling my body to the very end of the bed and becoming eye level with my dripping pussy.

Gradually being less stable as his breath hits my uncovered folds. Attempting to tease me but even the smallest touch from him is enough to make me explode. Still, I can never get enough.

“I thought you wanted a taste?”

“No princesa, I need it.”

A/N: (Sorry, just had to tease you again)

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buglass · 10 days ago

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Lonely Man - A Christmas Oneshot

Summary: A passive and respectful fan encounters a lone Elvis Presley on a beach in the Bahamas while both are on Christmas vacation in 1969. Jackie debates whether or not to bother Elvis, but feels drawn to keep him company.

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Jackie!Black!OC

Chapters: 1/1

WC: 907

Warnings: Insinuation of depression, general fluff and kindness, lack of holiday cheer

A/N: Not a big fan of the holidays myself since I’ve always been away from family since I was in the military. Still feeling it a little bit this year so this is how I’m coping lol thanks for reading!

Unexpected Chapter 2.

Inspired by this and a few other photos from E’s time in the Bahamas October 1969.

December 25th, 1969

❆ ❆ ❆

When she spotted him, she didn’t think it was actually Elvis Presley. The black dress shirt he wore was a stark contrast to his skin and white trousers. Keeping up with the whereabouts of celebrities wasn’t her forte and this man, only seeing him from his side profile, looked slightly less like the spruced up version the world had come to know. Don’t get her wrong--she still thought the man seated in the sand was handsome but a lot paler than she would have expected for a Bahamian vacation in the sun.

Elvis hunched forward with his feet buried in the sand, his sleeved arms wrapped around his pant-covered legs as he looked out to the water. Jackie was between a rock and a hard place on the mostly empty beach. When a woman and her family came from the opposite direction, they didn’t waste time to make their approach to Elvis. It wasn’t their fault they stumbled upon him either. Because they too were on vacation, they actually had a camera on hand to commemorate the once in a lifetime event.

Jackie slowed down, busying herself with the wispy skirt blowing in the wind and the straps of the shoes she held. She faced the water as she took the hair tie from her wrist and tied her hair back into a ponytail. There were a total of three snaps she could hear from the camera, Elvis standing there for each picture both posed and candid. Elvis hunched over, waving to the blonde little girl who was probably only about four years-old. As the fans left, he stood up straight and looked around as if he were expecting a floodgate of fans to follow.

They were alone again.

Jackie started down the beach again, veering toward where the water could wash over her feet. When she glanced up again, Elvis was looking at her. His hands were at his back, sliding lower into what she assumed was his back pockets. She became highly aware that he was overly dressed for the beach while she wore a bikini, her lower half shrouded by the long, breathable skirt that in the right light showed some leg. Elvis moved in her path and her heart rate picked up knowing that her only option was to walk around the singer.

Her eyes dipped toward his chest and the hair there, coming back up the closer she got to him. When the two of them were face to face, Elvis’s mouth curled into a smirk.

“What do I owe the pleasure of your attention, Mr. Presley?” Jackie spoke casually as if they were old friends.

“I was gettin’ ready to ask you the same. I saw you down the beach before all of that.” Elvis admitted, dropping his arms to his sides.

“I think you’re the one stopping me for my attention now,” she laughed, stepping around the man for the sake of making him follow. “I will leave you to it.”

“Hey, wait-wait a minute,” Elvis said, turning after her to walk at her side. “Can’t you stay for a while?”

“I was just making sure you didn’t feel obligated to have company, Mr. Presley--”

“Elvis, just Elvis.” He put up his hands.

“Alright, Elvis. But, as I was saying, I don’t want you to feel…bombarded.” Jackie said. She slowed up to face him, admiring how he towered over her and his general warmth. Fuck, he was good looking, she thought.

“It’s never any bother, but I could use the company. If you don’t mind?” Elvis gestured toward the sand.

Jackie squinted up at him, skeptical of what someone of his caliber would want with her. She swept her skirt as she lowered into the sand, dropping her sandals at her side. Elvis followed suit only after she was seated and he sighed as he looked out toward the water again.

“What’s your name?” Elvis asked.

“Jacqueline, but I prefer Jackie.” She explained softly.

“Well, Jackie, what’s more fittin’ of the Christmas Spirit than spendin’ time with a stranger?” Elvis chuckled.

“I… I think some would say the opposite, but ‘tis the season.” Jackie laughed. She was pleased by his easiness, the way he was turning a moment that clearly bothered him into a positive. She looked at him square in his face and furrowed her brows after a second. “So…why are you alone out here on Christmas?”

“Sometimes it’s good to learn to live with yourself, honey,” was all he said at first. “... But I s’pose I’m not very good at it after all.”

Jackie gave him a sidelong look for a second longer before slowly reaching for the exposed part of his arm. She understood the dreariness of the holidays tended to outweigh the excitement of gift-giving and cheeriness. When she looked at him, she saw a man that was far, far away. Elvis finally looked at her and she caught the sadness in his eyes. She would have thought someone as successful as him was immune to feeling down. But when she squeezed his wrist and his arm moved so they were holding hands, Jackie was reminded of just how human the superstar was.

“You’ll be okay, sweetheart. This is just a bad day, not a bad life.” She promised gently.

“Thank you, Jackie. Merry Christmas.” He gave her a small smile.

“Merry Christmas, Elvis,” she said, leaning over to press a reassuring kiss to his cheek.

#elvis presley #Elvis Presley x black reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis film #Elvis Presley 1960s #christmas fanfic #one shot #blurb #fluff #elvis presley smut #completed #LONELY MAN

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ineffablesuffering · 1 year ago

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Where The Furniture Used to Be (Aziraphale x Crowley x Adopted!reader)

Hello! Welcome back! So this was a request from a lovely anon! (I hope you see this and you like it!) This is my very first attempt at angst so please be nice!

Pairing: (Aziraphale x Crowley x Adopted!reader)

Warnings: again like one swear word. Feels? (look i tried lmao)

Word Count: 2557

Note: To the other anon that sent me a request, I have seen it! It's been added to my list <3

Masterlist

--------------------------------------------------------------------

“This is ridiculous,” you huffed, “Why can’t I go outside?” the wind picked up outside the bookshop window.

Aziraphale sighed. They, Crowley and Aziraphale, had adopted you when they you were a teenager after noting some strange weather patterns that seemed otherworldly and out of place in London. They had followed the trails and it led them to you, a then-teenager who had trouble controlling their emotions. You were a witch, a bloody powerful one at that, who could control and manipulate the elements no spell or potion needed. It had taken time, but Crowley had connected that the change in weather had come directly from your emotions whether they meant it or not. Aziraphale and Crowley had worked hard to conceal them from their respective ex-head offices, and it had been working. Until now. You see, Heaven and Hell had taken notice of the young witch and had been watching closely for quite some time. The power they had worried them immensely, they felt threatened by it. With the planning of The Second Coming, they didn’t have the time nor patience to put up with someone who could quickly stop it.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you, my dear, at least let us accompany you,” Aziraphale said calmly.

“To me or to other people?” you snapped, “I am old enough to go and get a coffee myself Az. You don’t need to treat me like such a baby anymore. I’m not going to hurt anyone. I can control myself now. What could possibly happen to me huh? Nothing has ever happened to me, and nothing will. I can’t stay cooped up in here forever.” The wind continued to pick up outside.

“Oi!” Crowley said from his position on the sofa, “there’s no need to speak to Aziraphale like that. We’re just looking out for you that’s all.”

You let out a deep sigh and rubbed your temples; the wind slowly calming. You loved Aziraphale and Crowley so much and were very grateful to them for everything they had done. But this was too much. You could protect yourself, should anything ever happen to you. You were a grown adult, not the once out-of-control teenager you used to be.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, “I just think it’s a bit silly that I can’t go 10 minutes down the road to grab a coffee, on my own.”

Aziraphale and Crowley shared a look. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust you, they just didn’t want any harm to come to you. You just looked at them, as they had a silent conversation debating on how they should handle the situation. Aziraphale sighed again and took your hands in his own.

“Okay, fine. You can go but come straight back.” Aziraphale said, softly but his tone suggested that there was no room for argument. A smile appeared on your face as you launched yourself into Aziraphale’s arms.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” you squealed, “I promise I won’t be long, and I’ll bring you back something too.”

Aziraphale chuckles as he returns the hug rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Just come straight back.” He said as he pulled away. You nodded and quickly made your way to Crowley.

“Thank you!” you said as you gave Crowley a kiss on the cheek. Crowley just winks at you.

“I take my thanks in the form of a …”

“A big cup with 6 shots of espresso, yes I know,” you laughed interrupting him.

“That’s my little angel,” he said quietly and pressed a kiss to your hand.

You smiled as you made your way out of the bookshop. “Bye! Love you!” you said closing the door behind you.

“I do hope we made the right decision,” Aziraphale said sitting down next to Crowley, taking his hand in his.

“They’ll be fine Angel,” Crowley said, “Just have a little bit of faith,” he said kissing the angel's cheek before standing up and sauntering off into the kitchen to make Aziraphale a cup of tea.

You walked down the street towards the coffee shop with a smile on your face as you took in the scenes around you. There were cars driving up and down the street, the sun was shining, and a cool autumn breeze swirled around you. It truly seemed to be the perfect afternoon. As you walked with almost a skip in your step, you bumped into someone.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” you said to the stranger. The stranger was a woman dressed in white with neat dark hair.

“Watch where you’re walking,” said the stranger.

“Sorry!” you said and continued on your way.

You reached the coffee shop just moments later, and praise be, there was no queue. The shop was particularly empty except for a woman who was sat at a table dressed in white but with beautiful dark skin. Strange you thought, that’s two women in white suits in the last few minutes. Maybe they’re getting married. You shrugged the thought off as you ordered an iced latte for yourself, a large cup with six shots of espresso for Crowley and a vanilla slice for Aziraphale. You paid and thanked the barista and waited for your order. You turned around and saw the woman at the table staring at you. You offered a friendly smile, but the woman just kept on staring at them. “Okay then,” you said under your breath.

You thank the barista when they hand you your order and make your way back to the bookshop. You take a sip of the iced latte and make a face. You didn’t order any syrup in your latte, but it tasted awfully like almonds, and that’s the last thing you remember before everything went black.

Back at the bookshop, Aziraphale was pacing. “They should be back by now,” he stressed as he walked.

“I’m sure they just bumped into a friend or something Angel,” Crowley responded trying to calm Aziraphale, but deep down he knew that something wasn’t right.

“It's been over an hour Crowley,” Aziraphale said glancing out the window to see if he could spot you.

“I know Angel, they’ll be fine,” Crowley said standing up and walking over to Aziraphale placing a hand on his shoulder.

Aziraphale turned to face Crowley and buried his head in his shoulder. Crowley wraps his arms around the angel, soothing him by running a hand up and down his back. Much like how Aziraphale had done to Y/N not too long ago. “Can we go look for them?” Aziraphale mumbled into Crowley’s shoulder.

“Would it make you feel better?” Crowley asked pulling away so he could look him in the eyes. Aziraphale just nodded and Crowley sighed. “C’mon then Angel.”

Aziraphale and Crowley walked down the same streets that Y/N had. The sun was still bright in the sky, the cool breeze whipping around them, but something wasn’t right. They could feel it. They turned the corner and stopped. On the middle of the pavement, there were two dropped coffees and a dropped paper bag which seemed to contain a vanilla slice. The angel and demon turned to each other as their hearts dropped to their stomachs.

You awoke to a bright light and a pounding headache. Your hands bound to a chair and a white rag in your mouth. You wince as you opened your eyes to see the two women from earlier standing before you hold a book.

“What is going on?” you tried to speak, but the rag prevented the words from coming out.

The woman with the neat dark hair snapped her fingers and the rag disappeared.

“You! You’re the women from earlier!” you thrash, trying to break free of the material that held you to the chair.

“Women?” the woman said, “We are the Archangels Michael,” they pointed and themselves “and Uriel,” they continued pointing to the other woma- angel, “and you must be Y/N,” they said a hint of disgust in their voice.

“What’s it to you?” you snap trying to burn your way through the material bounding you to the chair.

“Oh, that won’t work here, Y/N,” said Archangel Uriel, “your gifts are of no use to you in heaven.”

You froze. Heaven? Panic coursed through your veins like ice. “No, no, no, no.” you panicked.

“Oh yes, Y/N,” the Archangel Michael smiled. “You get quite the view from up here.”

“How do you even know who I am anyway?” You said.

“We’ve been watching you for quite some time now. Quite the stir you’ve made upstairs and downstairs. You’ve had us all quite worried,” spoke Uriel.

Your head was spinning. You knew about Heaven and Hell. You always have for as long as you’ve had your powers, that wasn’t the surprise. You knew Aziraphale was an angel and Crowley a demon, so coming face to face with two Archangels wasn’t a huge shock to the system. No, what panicked you the most was that you were up here and Aziraphale and Crowley were nowhere to be seen.

“W-What have you done to them?” you shouted.

“To who?” Uriel cocks their head.

“Aziraphale and Crowley!” you cried. “Where are they?”

“You mean The Traitor and the Demon?” Michael starts, “Oh nothing, it’s not as if they’ll even know who you are in a minute anyway,” they gestured to the book that Uriel held. You’d know that book anywhere.

“Is that?” you say suddenly getting quiet.

“You’re a clever witch, aren’t you?” Uriel said condescendingly.

“But I haven’t done anything!” you shout.

“Ah, not yet you haven’t,” Uriel starts “but we can’t have you interfering with The Second Coming now, can we?”

The Second what now? Fear and dread slowly started to fill your body from your head to your toes. They were going to erase you from The Book of Life. Tears filled your eyes as the reality of your situation dawned on you. You were at a loss for words as Uriel opened the book and handed it to Michael. Your thoughts ran wild as they smiled at you. You felt as if you were about to throw up.

Suddenly, doors opened to your left and voices shouted.

“Let them go!”

“What do you think you are doing!”

It was Aziraphale and Crowley running towards you. Aziraphale snapped his fingers, and you were freed from your restraints. You threw yourself into Crowley's arms and sobbed as Crowley caught you and stroked your hair. “You’re okay my little angel,” he whispered in your ear. Aziraphale stood in front of you both.

“What is the meaning of all this?” Aziraphale demanded.

“Ah, so glad you could join us,” Michael smiled, “We were just about to get started.”

Aziraphale froze when he saw what was in Michael's hands. He turned to Crowley, a wild expression on his face. Crowley tilted his head, confused until he too saw what Michael was holding. His hand froze on your hair.

“That’s not?” Crowley started, suddenly moving you behind him. Aziraphale nodded weakly, not knowing what to say or do. He turned to face Uriel and Michael.

“You can’t do that,” he stepped forward, but Uriel snapped their fingers, and he couldn’t move any further. He was stuck, and panic took over his body. “You wouldn’t, they haven’t done anything!” he shouted. His worst nightmare had suddenly become a reality. He was going to lose you and he couldn’t do anything about it.

Crowley tried to make a dash for The Book of Life, but it was no use, he wasn’t fast enough and soon he was also stuck in place, right next to Aziraphale. “You can’t do this!” he roared, fear washing over him. Michael and Uriel ignored them as they found your name in the book. You rushed in front of Aziraphale and Crowley, you turned and faced the two Archangels.

“Please, don’t do this,” you beg tears rolling down your face, “you can’t do this!” Uriel hands Michael a feather. “I promise I won’t cause any bother. I won’t!” you tried to bargain but it was no use.

“That’s not a risk we are willing to take,” said Michael and with one swift stroke, crossed your name out of The Book of Life, and disappeared.

You turned to face Aziraphale and Crowley and stumbled forward feeling slightly tingly. You felt arms around you as Aziraphale and Crowley were released from their holds as now, there was nothing they could do.

“No, no, no, no!” Crowley shouted as he grasped onto you. You could see tears fall from Aziraphale's eyes as he stroked your hair.

“It’s okay,” you said to them bringing a hand to each of their faces, tears still rolling down your face. “It’s going to be okay,” you whisper quietly.

“How can you say that Y/N?” Aziraphale whispers.

“Because in a few seconds, you won't even remember who I was. You won’t feel any pain.” You whisper to them, noticing that your hands were fading. This was it. A sob wracked through Crowley, his emotions getting the best of him. You feel his lips touch your forehead.

“You’ll always be my little angel Y/N,” he whispers into your hair, pressing another soft kiss to the crown of your head.

“I love you both so much.” You said, feeling yourself fade away.

“We love you too, so much,” Aziraphale whispers into your hair, kissing your head softly, and with that, you faded away in their arms.

A few days later, Aziraphale and Crowley were in the bookshop. Aziraphale had decided to close the shop today, not feeling like opening up. He sat at his desk a strange feeling in his stomach like something was missing but he couldn’t quite place what it was. He sighed and stood up from his desk and made his way to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. He found Crowley standing there staring at a cup of coffee.

“Everything alright my dear?” he asked.

“Hmm?” Crowley responded looking at him.

“I asked if everything is alright?”

“Oh, yeah m’fine.” He said with a sigh, “Do you ever feel like something isn’t quite right?” he asked Aziraphale after a moment.

“You know I was just thinking about that myself,” he said leaning next to him on the kitchen counter. “I’ve just felt rather, unfulfilled recently and I can’t seem to place why.” He frowned.

“Me too,” Crowley said reverting his attention back to his coffee. “It’s very strange, it feels like looking into a house you used to own and trying to place where the furniture used to be but you just can't.”

“That’s an oddly specific way of putting it.”

“But I’m not wrong.”

“No,” Aziraphale sighed, “you are not.”

They stood in silence for a minute before Aziraphale spoke up again. “I’m sure it will pass; all things pass in the end.”

Crowley looked at the angel with a bemused look on his face, “Did you just quote George Harrison?”

Aziraphale blushed “Maybe,”

“You surprise me every day Angel.” Crowley said with a chuckle, “C’mon make your tea and I’ll get you in the main room.” He said sauntering off.

So, life went on as it always had for Aziraphale and Crowley, though they could never shift that feeling that something, or rather someone, was missing.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #david tennant #aziraphale #michael sheen #aziraphale x reader #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #good omens x reader #ineffable husbands x reader #crowley x reader #david tennant x reader #michael sheen x reader

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icarusredwings · 4 months ago

Text

Rewatched Deadpool 1. Took notes.

WARNING: Discussion of mental illness topics, ending yourself, trauma, violence, etc.

Civil debate/ conversation welcomed. Sorry its super long. I think a lot.

Notes:

You know what? We see Wade coloring a lot. What's our status on just giving him cartoons snacks and coloring books? He needs it.

I think we all forget how actually impressive this man is. I just watched this cancer having fucker do like 50 flips.

Whatta man is so Logan Howlett coded.

"Bad deadpool" "good deadpool!"

Deadpool has been helping kids for a while. He terrified a little creep while he himself was a huge creep.

Missed up his words and Vanessa smiled at him. With that "aw hes cute" kinda thing.

When talking about their childhood (whether he's lying or not, hes not about the uncle) and he outdos her so much that she giggles.

The first date he takes her ducking skiiballing instead of yk prostitute stuff

Hes so romantic oh my god.

Theyre giggling and joking like all the time. Personally thanksgiving is my favorite scene before he proposes with a fucking ring pop.

I shouldn't laugh but the way he said "wtf" when passing out

Vanessa instantly jumping to "what can we do? There has to be something" makes me instantly respect her as a chronically ill person myself. Partners who medically defend each other make me so happy because a lot of people divorce their partners when they get "too sick" let alone dont show up to specialist appointments.

Him accepting death so quickly is a sign of mental illness, and you can see him be confused on why shes so upset. Shes crying and hes sitting here like "why do you care if I die or not?" He physically feels so unloved that he just doesn't get it.

"I dont know. Might further the plot. " Oh, so you know about wades little mental tv show he puts on in his head as a coping mechanism?

Also... Weasel.. YOU KNOW WHO ELSE IS A WEASEL!? Shit sorry wrong movie.

Its not until now that hes crying because he realizes if he does then no more vanessa. We already know hes very co dependent and many people only care about themselves BECAUSE of other people. Which is also considered a sign of wanting to ☠️ self.

The whole "superheros are all lame ass teachers pets" thing is so funny if you think about how much beef he has with the xmen when in reality I have a feeling Wade would love charles in a "Ugh im in trouble with Daddy wheel chair again." COUGH "old bald heavens gate looking mother fucker" COUGH

"Thats not nice" No. But wade is genuienly not nice either.

"This is embarrassing. Please stop, " Colosus said what we all were thinking.

Bro literally cut/broke off his own hand and didn't whine a single time. If you ever. EVER hear this man express pain it is 99.9% his own choice to let you know that it hurts.

During his changing process, Francis says "the only thing that doesn't survive is a sense of humor" wade says "we'll see about that" and smirks.

What also makes sense to me is that he did NOT break easily. They did test after test after test and this man still wasn't breaking. His spirit is incredibly strong and as much as we enjoy joking about how stupid he is, Wade is extremely resourceful.

Its like he has created an alter ego of humor and kindess in order to keep up with the fact he DOES understand how fucked up this world is and whats happening/happened around him but refuses to acknowledge it until he has too. Ussually for survival.

Ive seen theories that he has DID or a type of Scizophreania and the voices in the comics are obviously in his head. I have mixed feelings about it because even his thoughts have thoughts of their own in some cases. Talking to no one is often a sign of abadonment, esspecially in children who are school age and get lonely when taken from their families to attend school. Its almost as if wade never lost his and hes subconsiously talking to himself to keep himself calm/ from panicking in high stress situations.

"But then how does he know hes in a movie" thats the thing. He doesn't. Hes pretending to cope. Main charaters cant die and until he dies he has this mental show/movie going on to keep himself from realizing all of this is true. That this is reality.

Cunningham mentions breakfast for his kids and suddenly, wade wakes up. Hes not joking anymore. This is a "oh shit... I wanna make breaktsst for my kids too... with my wife vanessa" moment.

"So whats wrong with him?"

Diiiiiddd we all forget about scout master kevin? Uncle? Dad? That fact that the oxygen was physically taken from his brain and was given Co2 poisoning over and over? For multiple days? This is the same man who blew himself up just to escape because they told him he wasnt going to see vanessa again.

And then he fought a guy naked, survived the entire building burning down, and now is so insecure about his looks that he thinks he made the baby cry in the street.

Theres people staring at him, flinching away, called names, people see him and cross the street. (So when he tells Logan that he knows his pain when it comes to public settings, hes not lying)

Blind Al is literally the reason deadpools suit is what it is. Why the idiot thought white was gonna be a good idea- See above. Unlike Al, who could smell the blood/ bleach.

I really love al. She's like the adult Toph.

"I hear everything in this duplex." OH, you poor thing.

"The guy that turned me into this freak-"

Al: *bitch im blind face*

As far as she's aware, he looks normal. Which is beautiful when you think about it, but it's funny when you think about the fact that he's so insecure about his face that he purposly found a blind room mate that couldn't judge him.

And they cuddle while he gets dating advice from grammie 🥹❤️

I really like how the entirety of Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Children (HellHouse in the comics) stood up for Weasel. They're murderers. But they're family.

What they did to vanessa was straight fucked. Her fiance up and leaves without notice, youre just trying to work and live your life, you get kidnapped.

Negasonic is so cool. I love them.

Dopinder (The cab guy) is so cool too. I love him too. Kill that guy in your trunk. "Mr. Pool" reminds me of Tom holland spiderman.

"It is not boy band >:(" Suurreee it isn't.

"Wheres your duffle bag?" You mean his dollar general store tree hello kitty book bag filled with guns?

"Cue the music" *no one even gives a fuck at this point when he talks to the imaginary cams*

Negasonic mid battle: Hold on- "Hey Yukio, yeah I just gotta fuck shit up real quick, ttyl?"

"Sure thing! <3 You go baby!"

I dont know anything about negasonic but she reminds me of Gambit with her energy powers.

Like I said. Hes smart when its a serious situation because he immediately threw his katana into the glass so vanessa could breathe, only to immediately turn sappy and childish again when he sees her stab francis with it. Heart hands, is hallucinating because theres a knife in his brain (literally), sex joke. Etc.

Colossus shut the fuck up. Let this man kill him. He's hurt Soooooo many people. A bullet costs less then a dollar. His amount of therapy alone is going to be like *checks calculations* 80 billion.

"Not the nethers" Wade can and often does show proof of hurting but hed rather cut off his hand then let vanessa punch him in the balls. "Ow- owie 5000"

Hello Hugh Jackman.

After not seeing each other for so longer they instantly go back to the fibbing. "I live in the house with 12"

"You live in a house??" Funny guys get the girls. I should know. My wife says im super funny (yes im in therapy)

Pinky promises really matter to him.

Hes such a silly billy he brought out the phone with their song on it. God what a romantic idiot.

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thewalkingkale · 3 days ago

Text

Unfair || A One-Shot

SKZHOPFICS Masterlist

Desc: Everyone tells you to avoid the castle in the woods, and in turn, the man who lives in it. You've never been one to do as you're told.

Warnings: kidnapping, character near-death, lots of angst, mutism, blood and injury, this one gets a little heavy for a second there folks!

dt: my friends trick and court, who helped me make it the gorgeous gorgeous girl it is ❤️

Author's notes: my first ever skz fic 😭😭 I hope you all love it as much as I loved working on it! Also waxingracha changed their hair AS i was writing so if hair colors aren't correct pls forgive me. Felix has dark hair and Hyunjin has his buzz cut lol.

(y/n) is gender neutral, they/them pronouns used

A crow called from somewhere in the woods, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. The air was cold now, dense and heavy with the evening air. I had been lost for hours, the woods were twisty and the path was beginning to disappear into the wet, heavy snow. The woods watched me as I walked, hood up and lantern held forward in front of me as I desperately tried to make sense of where I was. Bushes rustled behind me and I stopped, my heart lurching in my chest as I spun around.

“Who’s there?!” I called. There was no response.

My brother had warned me about these woods. Yet I had to be the one to go hunting and get myself lost. Good job, idiot, I thought to myself as I trudged through the wet, heavy snow. Being so close to the castle (read: being in these woods at all), so close to sunset, was a terrible idea. I had since lost sight of the towering structure to the treeline, not knowing which way was towards or away from it. I tried desperately to steady my breathing and continued down the path, only to walk a few steps before I was interrupted by rustling once again, this time accompanied by a growl. I froze, shoulders hunched in fear, as I turned to face the hungry pack of wolves now emerging from the shrubline. I couldn't breathe, the barks and growls echoing in my ears along with my heartbeat. I tried to back away but every step of distance I tried to put between me and the wolves was quickly replaced.

With one final bark and a snarl, the leader of the pack lunged, and I instinctively shielded my face and ducked. The rows of sharp, yellow teeth never came. There was a scuffle, a whimper and a yelp accompanied by a pained grunt from a voice almost as deep as the wolf’s growl and then… silence. As I uncovered my face, I was met by the sight of a man. I could hear footfalls, and my name being called in the distance, but I couldn't take my eyes off of him.

He was tall, lanky, with long, dark hair. I stood, slowly, and watched as the wolves retreated back into the woods. The woods stood still, the air between us so thick with tension and hostility it was almost hard to breathe. As he turned, I noticed his face. Although scarred, he was… handsome. His eyebrows were creased, not in concern, but in annoyance. In anger, and hatred. He held his arm tightly as he approached.

“What the hell do you think you're doing here?”

“(Y/N)!”

A voice from behind me tore through the steady, anxious silence around me as footsteps followed. I could tell it was my brothers, but I couldn't look back. I couldn't seem to tear my own eyes away from the man before me, his own stare tense, and piercing. I listened to my brother fall behind me into the snow at the sight of him.

“It's… it's the prince… the one from the stories…” He muttered.

Oh.

“Were you raised in a cave or something?” He spat, “Didn't your parents teach you not to go into the woods alone?”

That would explain the anger. We had heard so many stories growing up about staying out of the woods, about the man who lived in the looming castle just outside the village. Some said he was a brutal murderer who did away with anyone who trespassed on his land. Some said he wasn't actually a prince, but an ugly troll king who ate anyone who got lost in the woods. Others debated whether or not he was humanoid at all, a tale of a beast in the woods, turned that way by a witch. I remembered the countless who got lost in these woods and never returned, or were found horridly injured, or mangled, or within an inch of their life, but I never expected the culprit to be… a man. A regular, human man, a handsome one at that. The prince before us rolled his eyes, stepping closer to us and grabbing my wrist harshly.

“I asked you a question.” He snarled. Now that he was close enough, I noticed the rips in his sleeve, and the blood along with it, dripping into the pure, white snow.

“You… You're hurt…”

“Nevermind that. Answer the damn question,” I sucked in a hiss as his grip tightened, tugging at my own arm.

“Step away from them,” (b/n) barked from behind me, “Don't you dare try anything.”

“Or what?” The prince looked at him over my shoulder, “You'll kill me? All by yourself?”

“Or die trying, and I would be doing the world a service.”

“No shit. You’d be doing me one too.”

My brain tuned out the bickering as if on instinct, the world around me disappearing as the prince’s eyes nearly bore holes into me with his direct, angry gaze. Time itself seemed to slow, the background distorting with my nervousness. I moved slowly, so as not to make him any angrier, lifting our wrists to get a better look at the injury to his arm. He flinched, and I paused.

“I'm a healer in the village… Please, I can-” My voice jolted as he ripped his arm away so quickly and with such force that I fell forward, and he stepped aside to let me fall into the snow. I scrambled into a position to face him, trying to get back on my feet as he stalked towards my brother.

“You have some nerve threatening me on my land.”

“You have a lot of nerve showing your ugly face in the daylight. I've hoped all my life I would be the one to finally kill you,” My brother took out his dagger

“This ugly face just saved your sibling from getting eaten by wolves,” the prince spat back, twisting my brother’s arm behind his back and quickly disposing of the dagger.

“Stop!” My voice ripped through the tense air before I could stop it, “Don't hurt him, I’m the one you want. I'm the reason he’s even out here. I got lost, and I wandered onto your land. Take me instead, just… please…” I trailed off as the prince stopped.

“Don’t even think about touching them,” my brother grunted from the prince’s hold.

“Well, I'm taking one of you. I saved them, and it’s only fair,” He looked between the two of us, seemingly weighing his options, “Life for a life.”

My lungs about stopped functioning with the tension as his eyes finally settled on me, lingering for only a moment before he finally released my brother. The snow crunched under his heavy boots as he stormed over to me, yanking me off the ground and setting off into the woods, not stopping or slowing down, and very obviously not caring if I followed or if he dragged me on my knees through the dirt.

“Where are you taking them?”

A stupid question.

“Where do you think?”

An expected snarky response.

“I'll.. I'll come back for them! A-And I’ll have more people this time!”

“You won't make it through the woods.”

There was no response except the sound of my brother coming to his feet and running off, and as his footfalls grew quieter and quieter, dread settled into my stomach. The blood drained from my face as I tried to keep up with the prince’s pace, looking at the snowy forest floor as we walked.

“What's your-” I started, after a while, and was cut off just as quickly as the words could leave my throat.

“Here are the rules,” The prince turned to face me, still gripping my wrist with a force I was sure would bruise, “You are going to refer to me as ‘Prince’ or ‘Sir’, and I am not going to refer to you by name at all. You’re going to fix my arm, and then you belong to me, you aren't going back to your pathetic little village, or your pathetic little life. Got that?”

“... Are you done?”

He looked shocked. When was the last time anyone ever spoke to him, and not at, or around him? When was the last time someone had ever been in his general presence like this?

“Don't… don't talk to me like that. I thought you knew who I was? Are you stupid or something?” He scoffed, turning and continuing down the path, his ears tinting pink.

“Are you? I don't remember acting as if I didn't.” I mumbled. This man was starting to piss me off. He was supposed to be a beast, or a monster, in the woods in a castle eating babies, or something. Not a young, handsome man with an attitude problem. His power, his legend,and he had the attitude of a toddler who needed a nap. No claws, no gigantic sharp teeth. Just a guy. I thought he had decided to ignore me before his deep voice interrupted the sounds of the wood around us as the snow turned into rain.

“Felix.”

“What?” I asked, incredulous.

“My name. Yours next,”

“... (Y/N).”

“What a dumb name.”

It really hadn't occurred to me just how… huge the castle would be right up next to it like this. As we stepped out of the wood, the freezing cold rain pouring down onto us, I couldn't help but pause in utter awe at the sight of it. He paused with me, eyes flickering to my face, and then down at the ground again. I eyed the architecture, the beautiful towers and artful stained-glass windows… in which I could see… was that movement?

It occurred to me then, he wasn't alone. I could see curtains being drawn, there was a man cleaning the windows in an upper story room, and I could see the small, twinkling light of torches dotting the walls. As he led me up the steps, an animated set of armor met us at the top, hands outstretched. Felix took his cloak off and placed it in the armor’s arms, nudging me to do the same. I did, studying the images carved across the metal chestplate and the shape of the chainmail. Once it had obtained both of our cloaks, it walked away, clunky and loud. I watched it for a moment before turning back to Felix, who took my wrist in his hand again and pulled me forward.

I followed his stride, still not completely focused on him, but his beautiful home as he opened the main castle doors. The foyer was so huge it nearly took my breath from my lungs, as dark and dusty as it was. There was a carpet leading to the grand staircase, accompanying the matching patterned drapes in the grand windows, all a deep, royal shade of purple. Photos lined the walls, an older couple and their children, Felix obviously being one of them. There was a fireplace on either side of the staircase, each accompanied by a bookcase, a loveseat, and a coffee table. I followed Felix up the stairs in awe of the room around me, eyeing the decor and running my hand along the mahogany wood railing.

I could feel Felix’s eyes on me, but it was at the bottom of my priority list as we reached the top of the steps and I could really see the artwork on the ceiling. There were… angels in the sky, the setting sun turning the clouds vibrant pinks and purples. Felix stopped so I could continue admiring his foyer, eyes wide with wonder. His never left my face, studying my cheeks, nose, and mouth. I pretended not to notice the way the corners of his lips turned slightly upward, before straightening again into a tight scowl, his eyebrows crinkling as he turned away. Once again, we walked. He led me down a short hallway and through a door decorated mostly in pastel blues and greens, a large bed in the center and a door to one of the many balconies. The curtains swayed in the wind and the rain and thunder could be heard outside.

“This is where you’ll sleep,” He said, letting go of my hand so I could wander. I trailed the walls of the room, looking at the vanity he had all set up, the pictures beautifully painted in blue hues on the walls, in golden frames. The wainscotting was all in gold as well, giving the room an… elegant, regal feel. To say I felt like royalty was an understatement.

Felix followed me in, watching me closely and sitting in one of the chairs on the wall opposite the bed, which boasted a fireplace and a tea table. As he did so, another man walked in, about his age, with a blond buzz cut. He had a short, adorable nose and thick lips. He started to set some supplies down on the table, it looked like bandages and gauze, tinctures to help prevent infection in his wounds. He looked up at me and smiled.

“I didn't know anyone lived here with you,” I wondered, walking up to the man and shaking his hand. He didn't speak.

“My name is (Y/N).”

Still, silent, the man bowed. I looked at Felix in confusion.

“The help can’t speak,” He sighed, avoiding my eyes as he took his shirt off and handed it to the man who had brought the supplies, “His name is Hyunjin.”

“Oh,” I pondered for a moment as I desperately tried to keep my focus on his arm instead of his now-bare chest, my face bursting with pink hue. It must be the curse I had read about. Maybe this place was affected by a witch.

“Thank you, Hyunjin.” I smiled kindly, and as I walked to the table, he stopped me, hands at my shoulders, and looked deeply into my eyes, nodding, as if to ask if I was alright. This man was so… kind. I couldn't help the warmth on my cheeks as I nodded, and he returned it as he let me go, giving Felix a nod and a bow before leaving the room.

I sat across from Felix with the supplies and began to work, short hisses and groans left Felix’s mouth as I did so. It was deeper than it looked, but the blood had stopped, for now. I wiped as much of the dried blood and dirt away from the claw marks as possible, trying to hold his arm still as I worked. Of course, however, he was making it difficult. He seemed to have a knack for making things difficult.

“Stop squirming.” I scolded.

“Stop hurting me.” He scoffed.

“If you don't stop moving I won't help you. How’s that?”

“If you don't help me, I’m locking you in here. How’s that?”

We stared at each other for a moment, eyes locked and squinted at each other as we glared. His glare was… unthreatening, for the first time today. I sighed and continued my work, finishing up the last of the bandages. I shot him one last piercing glance, cleaning up the bloodied gauze and stitches from the table and was about to get up when Hyunjin appeared again, taking the supplies from me with a smile and leaving.

“Lets go over some rules,” Felix started, taking the new shirt Hyunjin had grabbed for him off the table and pulling it over his head.

“More rules?” I complained, not meeting his eye. He glared, but continued.

“You are not to step foot in the West Wing of the castle. It is absolutely forbidden, under any and all circumstances. Understand?”

“I… suppose so, whats-”

“It's none of your business. Just… promise me you'll listen.”

I could see the sincerity swirling around his eyes, he seemed almost… desperate. I nodded, and he relaxed and continued.

“Do not leave this room after midnight. Under ANY circumstances. You’ll be safe in here, but…” He looked towards the door, and then back at me, “... I can't guarantee anything between midnight and sunrise.”

“O…kay…” I stuttered, “Anything else?”

He was silent, observing my face quietly before standing, walking toward the open door and holding the doorknob to close it, but Hyunjin stepped in front of him. The two shared a silent argument, Hyunjin’s eyebrows raised as he pointed at me from the hallway, and Felix sighed, head turning over his shoulder.

“You’ll dine with me each evening. Tonight is no exception. Hyunjin will come grab you when the food is ready.”

With that, he left, slamming the door behind him. As the silence filled the space around me, as did the gravity of the situation, I collapsed to the ground and wept into folded knees. I was taught to fear him. I was taught that entering the woods alone would surely result in my death, at the hands of a faceless monster. Yet, here I was, unable to keep myself from feeling… bad. Guilty. He was just a man, as far as I knew. How long had he been trapped here, his only company being people that couldn't speak to him, all alone? At that moment I wished he was a beast. A big, ugly, hairy monster with teeth the size of my hands. He’d be easier to kill that way, easier to make my escape, and I wouldn't feel so horrible for him.

Dinnertime came quickly, a quiet knock on the door interrupting my thoughts. I hurriedly wiped my tears, opening the door to see a smiling Hyunjin behind it. I tried to return the smile as he took my hand, leading me to the large dresser on one of the walls and throwing it open. In it were clothes finer than just about anything I had in my closet back home. He took out a few pieces, mostly dark in color, all made of fine fabrics that even looked expensive. He looked concentrated as he held them to my face one by one, in the end handing me the one he thought would look best and smiling, about to leave the room again before he noticed the redness in my cheeks, the puffiness in my eyes. His expression quickly changed to worry as he held one of my cheeks, examining my eyes.

“I'm okay… I'm homesick already.”

He made a sympathetic face, his other hand coming up to my face as well and holding it gently. I smiled at him, sniffling and taking a breath. He gave my cheek a light pat, and left the room so I could dress up for dinner. As I changed, I thought of Hyunjin. Who was he before? Before the curse affected him, before he lost his speech? Was he always “help”, or was he a prince just like Felix? Did he live here, or was he taken, like me? I sighed to myself as I straightened out my hair in the mirror, brushing the wrinkles off of my new outfit, and heading out the door. Hyunjin’s jaw dropped as I came into view, his hand coming to his chest as he eyed my new look, circling me and then giving me an excited thumbs up. I couldn't help but smile back at him as he offered me his arm, and we headed down the stairs.

Felix waited at the bottom, also dressed in more… regal looking clothes. A blue suit coat with tails, a white frilly shirt underneath and black pants. His hair was slicked back, but still down, a few stubborn strands hanging in his face. I couldn't help but stare as he fumbled nervously with the rings on his hands, not meeting my eyes. He was handsome, alright. Hyunjin noticed my staring and nudged my side teasingly, giving me a smile. I smacked him gently and smiled back.

Once Felix finally noticed us coming down the steps, he seemed to stop as well, staring me up and down in my new clothes. I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard, evidently getting more nervous.

“How do I look? Hyunjin, here, has an eye for this kind of thing.” I looked up at the darker haired man who smiled, rolling his eyes and flapping his hand as if to say, “Its nothing,”

“You look… fine. Let's just eat,” Felix cleared his throat, and Hyunjin almost passed me to him, letting my arm wrap around Felix’s. Hyunjin stopped me and flashed me thumbs up, eyebrows raised as if it were a question. I nodded, and Hyujin returned it and walked away.

“You and Hyunjin seem to be becoming fast friends,” Felix commented, obviously still nervous, “Are you… settling in okay?”

“Felix… you don't have to do that, you know.”

He scoffed, “Do what, exactly?”

“... Pretend like you want to talk to me.”

He was silent the rest of the walk to the dining hall, a grand feast being all set up on the table. Another man with a square jawline and sharp cupid's bow was finishing up setting the table, smiling at us as we walked in. I thanked whatever deity that could hear me that the table wasn't one of those awfully long, royal dining tables with two seats miles apart. How awkward.

The man pulled out a chair for me and I smiled, nodding and giving him a quiet, “Thank you.”

“That's Jeongin.”

The man in question smiled and took my hand, kissing my knuckles gently. I giggled a little, “It's very nice to meet you, Jeongin.”

Once the candles were lit and Jeongin had left, hopefully to go eat his own meal for the evening, we ate quietly. The air was less tense now, the silence between the two of us not as awkward or formal as it had been. I observed him quietly as I ate, noticing the freckles that littered his cheeks like stars and his wide eyes, his irises, dark brown pearls that sparkled in the light of the candles and the rising moon.

“Who said I didn't want to?”

I froze, “I'm.. I'm sorry, I don't quite understand what you mean.”

“I… I never said I didn't want to talk to you, or that I was ‘pretending’ to want to talk to you.” He didn't meet my eyes as he spoke, just picking at his plate nervously, “I… I think we should… at least get to know each other a little, if you're going to be stuck in my castle.”

Somehow, someway, it occurred to me then and only then… it wasn't that he didn't want to talk to me, it was that… he didn't know how. When was the last time he had talked to anyone that could respond to him? When was the last time he met someone who didn't immediately cower at the sight of him? A small smile crossed my cheeks, and as I let out a breathy chuckle I watched his cheeks and ears turn pink.

“I would like that, Felix.”

“I'm… I'm sorry I called your name dumb.”

I couldn't help but laugh a little as I went back to my meal. From there, the conversation flowed a bit more easily. There were a few awkward bumps, I learned my boundaries of discussion with the lost prince fairly quickly. At the end of our meal, he even walked me to my bedroom, giving me a small smile and a bow.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

“Goodnight, Felix.” My voice came out wobbly, a lot breathier than I meant it to. His smirk told me he noticed as he turned and walked down the stairs towards the West Wing of the castle. I entered my bedroom and was almost immediately disturbed by a knock on the door. I opened it to find Hyunjin and Jeongin, both smiling expectantly. I rolled my eyes and let them in, Jeongin placing a tea set down and pouring a cup while Hyunjin set up a privacy screen and grabbed a night gown from the dresser, slinging it over the screen. I nodded in thanks, but before I could disappear behind the screen, Hyunjin grabbed my arm, motioning to his lips, to him and Jeongin, and then imitating eating with a fork. ‘Tell us about dinner,’ his actions beckoned.

“... You want to know how dinner was? It was… It was nice,” I said with a smile, disappearing behind the shade as I heard a sigh, and came around the corner just in time to see them shaking their heads in disappointment.

“What?! I have nothing else to say,” I giggled, “If I didn't know any better, I would think you were trying to set me up with your boss.”

Hyunjin feigned hurt, his hand lightly brushing his chest as his jaw dropped, Jeongin behind him looking around and pretending not to hear me. I couldn't help but giggle at their antics as Hyunjin looked at Jeongin and pointed at him, who shook his head and pointed in return. They both looked back at me and shrugged, and I rolled my eyes, sitting in one of the chairs by the fireplace as Jeongin lit it for me.

“Yeah, well, you have to get him to like me first. We can talk when he promotes me from prisoner to house guest, how’s that?” We shared silent laughter, the two boys putting their hands up in defeat. Jeongin got up to leave, and before Hyunjin followed him out the door he took my hand and gave it a squeeze. I returned it, smiling up at him. As they left, the sound of the door shutting echoing through the room, I sighed and stared into the fire. There were worse places to be.

Over the next couple of days, sleep came surprisingly easy, especially in such a comfortable bed. Other than dinner, Felix mostly left me alone; whether it was to let me adjust, or because he didn't want to see me, I wasn't terribly concerned which. Both days Hyunjin entered my room shortly after sunrise to wake me, Jeongin following behind with a tea tray. They picked out an outfit for me together and left me to change. I spent this alone time going through the books in the case by the fireplace, flying through title after title.

The third day started as normal, however once I was changed, Hyunjin came back into my room, offering his arm with a smile. I raised an eyebrow at him, but he just winked at me and gave me a nudge. Although cautious still, I couldn't help but trust him. Maybe it was his kind smile… or maybe, his gentle eyes. Either way I hooked my arm around his, and just like my first evening, he led me down the stairs to meet Felix in the foyer. He was dressed in a frilly white shirt with a low neckline, sleeves rolled up, and black pants, raven-colored hair half up in a bun while the rest fell at his shoulders. Save for the hair, he looked just like he did when I met him, just less bloody.

“Good morning.” He said curtly, “I… I know I've told you where you can't go… but I wanted to show you some places you can. If… you want me to.”

He offered his arm without looking at me. I couldn't help but smirk to myself a little as I took it. He showed me the main sitting room, the sunroom on the roof, and a washroom with a huge clawfoot tub. I nearly salivated at the thought of taking nice, warm baths in that thing.

“It's… a bathtub,” Felix sounded genuinely confused, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s a huge bathtub,” I moved further into the washroom to inspect it. Felix followed behind me, a single eyebrow raised as he watched me.

“Free meals, the finest clothes in a continent, a whole castle, and you’re this excited about… a bathtub,” He teased.

“Can we stop saying it? It’s starting to sound like a fake word.”

“What? Bathtub?”

“… I hate you.”

“I’m sure.”

Something felt different as I took his arm again. He wasn’t scowling, or avoiding my eyes, or insulting me. His expression wasn’t hateful, or malicious, or irritated. Time stopped for a moment as our eyes met again, faces close together now as our arms linked. There was something pretty about him. Maybe it was his plump, pink lips, or the curve of his nose. The way his smile, as rare as it was, made his eyes crinkle nearly shut, or the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he laughed. He cleared his throat, and I realized just how long I had been staring at his mouth, quickly averting my eyes to the floor as we continued on.

The castle library was huge, wall to wall to wall lined with thousands of books. I was in such awe at the sheer amount that he actually chuckled at me, once again teasing me with a smile.

“Bathtubs, and books. You’re a very simple person to please.”

“I’ll be the happiest prisoner you’ve ever had with access to all these books,” I picked a random title off of one of the shelves and read the description on the back.

“A whole castle, and they’re going to spend most of their time in a tub or a library,” Felix mumbled quietly, voice almost so low I couldn’t hear it. I squinted at him.

“Better in here than in your hair, right?” I reached for his arm on instinct, he gladly obliged.

“You have a point.”

I told him I was going to spend the day in the sunroom on top of the castle, having grabbed a couple books as we left the library. He disappeared, only for a moment before I heard the door open and close again, Felix joining me on the sofa. It was a sunny day, the snow and rain finally slowing and the clouds parting. How I loved sunny spring days. Even more so spent with a good book.

I was disturbed from my book by a hand nudging my own. Felix’s face was still buried in his book, his cheeks red, as he tried to ignore the fact that his fingers were ever so gently brushing my knuckles. I let my own wander along his rings, up and down his hands. They were softer than I thought they’d be. Eventually his index finger hooked itself around my own, loosely at first, then tightening once I didn't pull away. I couldn't help but smile a little, leaning my face forward to feel the sun on my cheeks. It was… the most pleasant I had felt in days. Felix’s face even relaxed a little and his eyes stopped scanning the same line, finally able to focus.

We ate dinner together like usual, the conversation about the respective books we were reading flowing like water, almost effortless, as if we had known each other forever. As we laughed, and I got a good look at his smile, my heart seemed to flutter in my chest. His laugh reverberated through the air, and I couldn't help but pause, and just… listen. Of course once he realized, he got shy. He cleared his throat and cast his gaze downward. We walked around the palace again after we ate, neither of us really wanting to part from each other for bed just yet. Eventually, however, we meandered our way to my bedroom.

“Thank you… for today, I mean,” I nervously played with my knuckles as I spoke, unable to meet Felix’s eyes, “It… it meant a lot to me, makes me feel a lot less like a prisoner, you know?”

Felix’s only response was to lean downward and kiss me on the cheek. The motion made my whole body pause, my cheeks burned as the scent of his cologne assaulted my senses, a sharp, citrusy foreground and a hint of sweetness in the background. I looked up at him, my eyes meeting his in an instant. Both our cheeks burned a bright red, and he cleared his throat again before giving me a nod.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).” His voice was destructively soft, my knees going weak at the sound.

“Goodnight Felix,” I reached up to give his arm a gentle squeeze, debating going in for a hug… and then deciding against it. Once I got into my room and shut the door, I desperately tried to slow my breathing, cupping my own cheeks trying to cool them down. All of this drama for a man I just met. How irritating.

Hyunjin and Jeongin came in shortly afterwards. I'm not sure why I tried to hide my embarrassment from Hyunjin, he could read me like a book. He noticed how flustered I was almost immediately and grabbed my shoulders, raising an eyebrow at me. Jeongin was at his side shortly after.

“What?”

He raised his other eyebrow.

“Alright, alright… he might’ve… kissed me.”

Hyunjin’s face dropped, his breathing going shallow and then… a strangled noise came out of his mouth. He touches his throat, swallowing, and then trying to speak again. As he tried, and tried again, his eyes lost more and more hope.

“What… hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?” I grabbed his arms, gently rubbing circles with my thumbs. He pointed to his cheek… and then his lips. My fingers came up to touch my cheek, and he sighed, his face falling. The dots finally connected themselves in my head then.

“Hyunjin,” I hooked my finger under his chin, forcing him to look at me, “I need to know exactly what's going on here. I want to help you… all three of you.”

Hyunjin sighed, Jeongin coming up behind him and grabbing his shoulder, furiously shaking his head, ‘no.’

“Why not? If you guys want to get your voices back, I need to know how I can help.” I pleaded, Hyunjin sighed and separated himself from me, beginning to clean up the tea set, the old clothes, and my paper and quill, leaving me the cup of tea to drink before bed, and following Jeongin out. He gave me a sad smile as they left in a hurry, slamming the door behind them. I stood in the center of my room, bewildered. I sighed, sitting down in my chair by the fireplace, picking up the book I had started and opening it to my bookmarked page to begin reading before bed when a paper fell out.

(Y/N),

You were right. You deserve to know the truth. Follow the hallway to the West Wing that Felix takes every night once the clocks strike midnight. I’ll meet you there, and I’ll show you everything you need to know. Please don't tell Jeongin.

If I may, I'm begging you not to leave after you see this. Please have faith in us.

Hyunjin

As midnight struck and the grandfather clocks could be heard harmonizing all through the castle, I opened my bedroom door, having re-dressed myself in some of the more simple clothes in the wardrobe. I gently walked through the castle halls, following the same route Felix did every evening after he walked me to my bedroom. I came across the door to the West Wing of the castle after turning a corner, and my heart dropped to my stomach. Covered in claw marks, a large metal door with a padlock stood before me. I turned away, looking to find a different way in, but ran into a sturdy chest instead.

Hyunjin caught my arms, a somber look on his face. He sighed, turning me around to face the door again before taking a key out of his pocket. He took a deep breath, undoing the padlock and putting it into his pocket. He gave me a look, sad, and scared, almost asking if I was sure I wanted to do this. I nodded, taking a deep breath of my own and trying to steady my heart.

The door creaked open, revealing a corridor that didn't look quite… done yet. The wallpaper was coming off the walls and the carpets were torn in some places, the wooden floors damaged and unfinished in some spots. Thunder rumbled in the distance as I heard the door creak shut, Hyunjin closing it and taking my arm as he had so many times since I got here. I clutched onto his forearm tightly, taking slow and tentative steps down the corridor. Once we reached a certain point in the hallway, Hyunjin tapped my arm and nodded to the paintings on the walls.

There was one of a man, who looked just like Felix, sitting atop a pile of gold. A witch, old and grimey, in a black robe with a pointy hat. Felix and the witch having an argument, the witch placing a spell on the castle. A single red rose, a petal falling slowly to the ground, as a big, brown beast loomed in the background. The last was of Felix, lying on the ground, the rose dead and wilted.

My lungs entirely emptied themselves of air as if I had been punched, my eyes burning with tears. Hyunjin noticed this immediately, tugging me across the hall to the next painting. It was… Felix, and another person. They were holding each other, the rose fully intact. The cogs in my brain spun as I looked at Hyunjin.

“If Felix doesn't get someone to fall in love with him before the petals fall off of the rose… he’ll die,” I whispered, “...But if he does fall in love and it’s requited… he gets to live?”

Hyunjin nodded, then pointed to his throat.

“... And you'll get to speak again?”

Another nod, more enthusiastic this time. I sighed, dread settling into my chest. Hyunjin led me through the hallway, opening the door to what, at first, looked like a storage area. However the further we got, the more visible a dim, red glow became. Hyunjin let go of my arm as I followed the light, and once I moved the boxes and other junk, there it was.

The rose. Sitting under a glass case, one petal left. Tears came to my eyes again. One. He had one chance left… before… that was it. I backed away slowly, my breath coming in short, rapid pulls as I clutched at my chest. The room seemed to cave in around me as I moved backwards, Hyunjin catching me and pulling me into his arms, leading me out of the room. He shut the door behind him, pulling me arms length away and looking into my eyes, nodding the usual question.

Are you okay?

I nodded, wiping my tears. Hyunjin took a deep breath, prompting me with a wave of his hands to do the same, and we continued down the hallway. The further we got down the hallway, the louder this... banging had become. It was shaking the walls, Hyunjin was becoming increasingly nervous as we ventured on. As we turned the corner we came across another metal door, this one in even worse shape than the last. Whatever was behind it pounded on it and bellowed.

“Stupid… (Y/N)… stupid… witch…”

“No…” I whispered, “Tell me that isn't…”

Hyunjin’s eyes took their turn filling to the brim with tears as he nodded. His eyes did not meet mine, trained on the door as a tear fell down his cheek. I took a deep inhale, turning to the door and placing a hand on it, then, before Hyunjin could stop me, opening it slowly. It creaked, causing the large, brown-furred, bear-looking monster in front of me to pause. He turned to face me, a snarl ever-present on his face, his large, sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. His eyes were a cloudy grey, I almost wondered if he could see me at all. I was clued into the fact that he could as he threw a chair at the door, letting out the loudest roar I had ever heard.

“Get… OUT!”

I shut the door just in time for the chair to hit it, smashing into pieces on impact. Another roar could be heard, and then bounding footsteps away from the door. I leaned my back against it, facing Hyunjin, who wasn't doing much better than I was. His cheeks were puffy, eyes rimmed red and brimming with tears. I nearly slid down the door, but Hyunjin caught me, taking me by the shoulders with a sniffle and leading me away from the door, from the West Wing, away from Felix. As we stopped in front of my bedroom, he pulled me into a tight hug, burying his head in my shoulders.

“You really care about him… don't you?”

Hyunjin nodded, not meeting my gaze. I sighed.

“Me too.”

I didn't sleep well that night. Hyunjin came to wake me after what felt like minutes, pulling open the blinds and gently shaking my shoulder. Jeongin poured me a cup of tea, same as every morning, except this time with a glare at Hyunjin. The air felt heavy around us as we got ready for our day, same as we had been, just a lot… quieter. Hyunjin tried to take the tray from Jeongin, however Jeongin swiped it away and shot him a pointed glance. Once dressed, I looked at Hyunjin sternly.

“Take me to him.”

Jeongin stepped in, touching Hyunjin’s shoulder with a shake of his head, but I stopped him, “Don't. I need to speak with him. Take. Me. To him.”

Jeongin’s grip tightened on Hyunjin’s shoulder, who shook it off and returned his glare from earlier. The two stayed like this for a while before Jeongin finally sighed, stomping out of the room. Hyunjin offered his arm to me then, refusing to meet my eyes. I desperately hoped this would go smoother than it was shaping out to as Hyunjin brought me to the sunroom. Felix stood with his face to the sky, enjoying the sun across his cheeks. A pit formed in my stomach as I looked at him. Both of nerves, and of…despair. He was beautiful. He was the sunshine itself. My heart rate rose and heat fanned across my cheeks as I looked at him, a realization I had prayed I would never come to hit me like a sack of bricks. In that moment, watching the peace dance across his face in the form of sunbeams and shadows, I knew.

I did not know if it would be enough to break the curse, but I knew.

“What did I tell you?” He asked quietly. I swallowed hard.

“Not to go into the West Wing.”

“And what did you do?”

“Felix, I-”

“What. Did. You. Do?”

“... I disobeyed you.”

“You disobeyed me. Do you even realize how hurt you could have gotten had I not realized it was you in there?” Felix closed in on me as his voice rose in volume. I tried to stand my ground.

“I… I deserve to know what’s going on, Felix, maybe I can help, I-”

“You have no idea what I am up against here. Absolutely none.” His eyes flickered between my own, our faces so close our noses almost touched. The proximity made me dizzy as he glared into my eyes.

“I would if you would talk to me. I want to help you, I… I care ab-” He turned away, cutting off my sentence.

“You do not. Don't lie to me like that.”

“I'm not lying, you idiot, don't tell me how I feel.”

“Go away.”

“No, Felix, please…”

He spun around to meet my eyes as he glared daggers as sharp as his voice, speaking through gritted teeth, “I said. Go. Away.”

I opened my mouth to argue, and shut it again. There was nothing I could say that would make him listen. I sighed, turning on my heels and walking out the door and down the steps to the main floor, my shoes clicking as I walked. I slammed my door shut once I reached my room, collapsing against it and into tears. What the hell had I gotten myself into? Regret swirled around in my head and my stomach as I crossed my arms over my bent knees, clutching at my elbows as I wept. I wished I had never gone into the woods that day. I wished I had never met him. At least then, I wouldn't know the pain of pining over someone who was just lonely. Minutes, or maybe hours, passed, and as my sobs began to slow and my breath stilled, a knock on the door shook me from my shaken stupor.

The sun was just beginning to set, beams of purple and pink streaking through my bedroom windows. I sighed, getting up from my spot on the floor and opening the door, then walking to my desk, figuring it was just Hyunjin and Jeongin. However, when the room wasn't filled with the sounds of the two puttering around, I paused, looking towards the door. There stood Felix, eyes looking everywhere but me as he played with the rings on his fingers.

“You can come in, I don't bite,” My tone sharpened as the last word left my mouth, and I regretted it instantly.

He stepped over the threshold slowly, eyes finally meeting my own. They were rimmed red, his eyes glazed and bloodshot while his lids were puffy. I stood immediately, rushing to him and placing my hands on his shoulders. He flinched at my touch, but didn't shy away from it.

“What's wrong, Felix?”

“I… I think it's best if you go.”

“...What?” His lips wobbled as he tried to regain his composure.

“I said,” He shook my arms off of him, steeling his gaze, even though his eyes were still teary, “Go. I have no use for you anymore. Get the hell out of my castle.”

My heart lurched as he turned and started to walk away, my words bubbling up and out of my mouth in sheer and utter panic, “I know about the rose.”

He stopped, his shoulders tensing. I tried to still my shaking hands as I continued, “I found it… when I found you. I… I want to help you, Felix, you just have to let me, I-”

“Stop pretending you know anything about me,” He growled as he grabbed me by my shoulders, shaking me as he spoke, “I've known you a week. You know absolutely nothing about the curse I bear.”

“This doesn't have to be so complicated, Felix, just talk to me,” I pleaded, my voice coming out in broken sobs. Tears filled his eyes as he pushed me forcefully out of the bedroom, taking a shaky breath before screaming.

“Just go!”

Adrenaline took over, and I took off running as fast as I could. I tore through the halls, trying to block out Felix’s angry sobs, but they echoed in my head as they turned into screams that could be heard throughout the halls. My heavy breathing turned into cries of anguish and agony as I rounded the corner to the foyer. Hyunjin was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, arms open, and I ran into them, burying my face in his chest as he led me outside and onto a carriage. Thunder rumbled, and rain began to fall. I watched it dribble down the carriage window and thought about Felix. Would he remember me? Would he be conscious somewhere inside that monster for the rest of his life?

Hyunjin put a hand on mine, a sad smile crossing his cheeks as tears welled up in his eyes as well. I took his hand in my own, running my fingers over his knuckles and desperately trying to ground myself, to come back to the moment. I would see my brother again, at least. I would be home, all that was left to do would be to try and forget Felix existed. I knew it would take me my whole life to do so, but tried desperately to hold onto hope as the carriage continued into the woods.

The moon was well into the sky, Felix had to be far gone by now, and I worried about the rose. The last petal… hanging on by a thread. It was almost too much to bear. The carriage came to an abrupt halt, Hyunjin jolting awake at the rumbling and the sound of yelling. I looked out the window carefully shielding the rose from sight. It looked like people from my village, but it wasn't until my brother spoke that it solidified in my brain.

“This is from the palace alright, be careful, It could be-”

I panicked, hopping out of the carriage and facing him. His face immediately flooded with relief as he rushed to me, picking me up in his arms.

“Thank God… you're alright.”

“Of course I am, let's just go home,” I couldn't bear to sound happy to see him. I was exhausted, my eyes having shed every tear they were physically capable.

“Absolutely not. I told him I would kill him, and I'm going to make good on my word.”

I separated myself from him abruptly, a stern look in my eyes, “(B/n)… Felix isn't who the legends say he is, he isn't a monster. The reason these woods are dangerous is the wolves, or… something, he-”

My brother scoffed as he interrupted, “Don't… don't tell me you're sticking up for that monster? He kidnapped you!”

“He saved me from wolves, we were on his land! The only reason I left was because… well, I did something I wasn’t supposed to and we fought… but he needs help, (b/n), please listen to me,” I pleaded, my brother walking towards the carriage, towards Hyunjin.

“You. What are you, her guard? Making sure she gets back to her prison before morning?!”

I grabbed his arm, trying to get him away from Hyunjin as best I could, “Leave him alone, he hasn't done anything wrong!”

“Bullshit, he’s an accomplice, and I'm going to try him as such when we get him back to the village.” The bigger man shook me off his arm, sending me tumbling to the ground. Hyunjin fell to the back of the carriage, kicking at my brother and desperately trying to get him out of the carriage. I was up on my feet at the same time he finally managed to kick my brother away from him. As I stood I ran and slapped the horse drawing the carriage.

“Run! Hyunjin, protect Felix!”

“What the hell are you thinking?!” My brother exclaimed as he stood, shaking the snow off of him. I watched as the carriage rushed away, the village people getting back onto their horses to chase after it. My brother grabbed my wrist, cuffing it to one end of a chain and locking the other end to a tree.

“What are you doing?”

“I don't know what he’s done to you, or what’s come over you, but I swear I'll find and kill him!” He spoke with such a vengeance it sent shivers down my spine. I tugged at the chain hard, trying desperately to get myself loose.

“Unchain me, now, don't you touch him!”

He ignored me, stomping towards his horse and hopping into the saddle. He tossed me a small sword out of a hilt on his saddle, and was gone just as quick as he arrived, putting the helmet on as he disappeared from view.

“Get back here!”

My breath came in short jolts as my heartbeat echoed in my ears, my head felt like the blood had been drained from it and I felt woozy. I tried to still my breathing, anything to think of a plan. The trees seemed to swirl, move, vibrate around me, and I closed my eyes, holding my head in my hands. My own breathing was beginning to deafen me, I had to get out of this, I had to get to Felix before (B/N) did. If I didn't… if I lost him… the thought tore a sob from my throat as I tugged harder on the chains at my wrist. The sound of hooves rushing toward me blended in with the sound of my panicked breathing as I looked around the woods, and it wasn't until nimble fingers picked the lock on the chain and it fell to the ground that I spun around, meeting eyes with Hyunjin once again.

“Hyunjin…” I rushed him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders quickly, “We need to go, Felix is in danger!”

Hyunjin hopped onto the horse that had been towing the carriage, my assumption that it had been forgotten in the woods, along with the animated armor that controlled it, and reached for my hand. I jumped as high as I could, Hyunjin doing the rest of the heavy lifting and pulling me up to sit in front of him on the saddle and prompting the horse to run.

Once we reached the castle we could already hear yelling from inside. Hyunjin helped me to the ground, and as soon as my feet hit the cobblestone I tore up the stairs, sprinting as fast as they would carry me. The sky was beginning to lighten, in just a few minutes Felix would be a man again, we could talk about this. I just needed to reach him. I just needed to reach him. I ran through the castle, headed towards the West Wing, only to be interrupted by a roar from the attic’s trap door entrance.

I jumped and pulled the string to the door, the steps shooting out with a loud crash. I hurried up, stumbling a little, and rushing through the attic doors to the sunroom, seeing a large hole in the glass covered in blood. I panicked, rushing onto the roof so fast I almost collided with the Beast’s brown fur. I spun around him just in time to grab my brother’s hand as he nearly plummeted a sword directly into the Beast's head.

“Stop!!”

The world stood still as my brother… The one who had raised me… stared at me in disbelief. I wrestled the sword from him and turned it to point at him as the beast behind me groaned and bellowed.

“Don't… touch him…” I said between gasps of air, my lungs on fire from the running, “Don't… even think about it.”

“What the hell are you doing, (Y/N)?”

“I'm returning the favor he did me when I met him,” I spat, “Would you just give me a second to explain, (b/n), please.”

“Oh, you mean, when he met and kidnapped you? Look at him now, (Y/N), don’t you realize how much danger you’re in?”

I didn’t respond, holding my ground, near white-knuckling the hilt of the sword. (B/N) slowly stepped forward, causing Felix to snarl behind me, “If you think I’m going to just leave you with the man who took you away from me, especially when he turns into this… you’re insane. Now move.”

“Never.”

“(Y/N)-”

“If you want to kill him, you'll have to kill me too.”

His jaw clenched, teeth grinding against each other as he seemingly weighed his options before lowering his hands, “This had better be good, (Y/N).”

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding and turned, tossing the sword to the side, my eyes closed as I faced Felix. As they opened, the sight could have killed me right then and there. He was badly injured, bleeding from his head, and a large cut on his chest, as well as abrasions on his arm where he had obviously crashed through the glass to the sunroom. A sob left my lips.

“What did they do to you…?”

I approached slowly, hand outstretched. The beast before me quivered, snarling quietly, and then seeming to calm down. I heard footsteps bounding up the stairs, Hyunjin now holding the rose and Jeongin desperately trying to keep his tears in.

“Just wait for the sun to rise… Once it hits him, it'll all make sense, trust me.”

The beast moved slowly. I, even slower, until my hand rested on his forehead. He leaned into my touch, as if, even for just a moment, he remembered it. As if he remembered what it was like to be loved, to be known. As if he was looking through Felix’s eyes and remembered… me, who showed him kindness. Me, who patched him up after he was rude to me. Me, who took the time to dine with him and asked him questions about himself. Me, who let him let his walls down.

The sun’s bright, blinding rays finally peeked over the mountains. The last petal wobbled on its stem, about to fall. As the sun's warmth touched our faces, all of the air in my lungs released itself through my mouth. Felix hadn't changed, my hand still resting on brown fur as tears gathered in my eyes.

“No, he’s-” I whimpered, “He’s supposed to be human, it's sunrise, he…”

I turned to Hyunjin, who held the rose up. The very last petal was fluttering now, about to fall. I couldn't help but get closer, at least if he killed me I would die knowing no world without Felix. I would know no palace walls empty of his pictures, I would know no forest I met him in, nor brother who killed him. I might know peace. I took a breath and tried to get the words out before that last petal could hit the bottom of the case.

“I love you, even if you kill me here. I love you if you’re never human again. I love you if the sun doesn't come up tomorrow. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

I sobbed as I wrapped both arms around the hulking, furry shoulders of the beast before me, not bothering to hold back for the sake of my dignity, or for the sake of Felix, who I wasn't totally sure was in there. I sobbed uncontrollably as the beast went silent, the sun still steadily rising in the sky. Hyunjin and Jeongin wept from behind me as well, my brother’s sword clanking to the ground. I prepared myself for claws, for Felix to disappear and for the beast to bring me peace. But… like in the woods, the teeth never came. The snarling stopped, and suddenly the shoulders I had been leaning on disappeared. I nearly fell forward, steadying myself quickly and trying to see through the bright, white light that had replaced the hulking fur and muscle before me.

I stepped backwards slightly, trying to shield my eyes from the light as I watched it get smaller… and smaller. Panic set in, and then, indescribable relief as the light dissipated, and there floated Felix, his hair messy and his clothes tattered and bloodstained, the abrasions on his arm and cuts through his chest still present, luckily not as prominent as they were on the beast. He didn’t move as he hit the ground, his face resting as if he were just sleeping. It would be a beautiful sight were he not also covered in blood.

“Felix…” I gasped, falling to my knees in a hurry and cupping one of his cheeks in my hand, “Felix… Can you hear me?”

Nothing. I rested my head on his chest, trying to listen for a heartbeat but my own was so loud in my ears it was hard to focus on anything else. I sobbed, gathering his lifeless body into my lap and hugging his face as close to my chest as I could, rocking back and forth. At this moment, I couldn't stop myself from going right back to hating him. I hated him for showing me kindness even though I was his prisoner, for not killing me for trespassing, and for not being the monster I had always assumed he was. I hated him for his adorable stubbornness. I hated him for sharing my love of literature. I hated him for how kind his smile was, when he let it be. I hated him because I would never see the torchlight flickering in his soft brown irises again, I would never get to learn his favorite color, or favorite food.

(B/N) knelt next to me, face twisted in confusion, but also… pity, and concern. I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t hear anything he was saying. Felix’s name fell from my mouth over, and over, and over again as I pressed my face into his hair.

“Please, Felix. Not now, we were so… we were so close, Felix… Please,” I gasped, peppering kisses all over his head as I held him.

“(Y/N)...” I flinched, harshly moving Felix away from him as (B/N) reached out to touch me.

“Don’t. You. Dare,” I snarled, “You did this. I almost had it, I almost… I almost fixed it… and you ruined it! I was so close… we were so… close.”

“(Y/N), he manipulated you, he-”

“He saved me!” My vocal cords strained as I shouted, “He did what he had to to break a curse, he was grumpy, and he was standoffish, but, damn it, he was a good man, (B/N), and you murdered him!”

He was quick to his feet, seemingly about to grab at me, but before he got the chance Hyunjin stormed up to us, Jeongin close behind, grabbing (B/N) by each arm and hoisting him upwards. The two were a lot stronger than they looked. I turned back to the man in my arms as (B/N) struggled against them, yelling something my brain either could not or would not process, as the two boys dragged him away.

“You can’t… you can’t just be… gone,” I whispered as my sobs slowed and I leaned down to press my face against the prince’s, peppering kisses across his cheeks, nose, chin, and forehead, before finally lingering at his lips. It was gentle, unreciprocated, and wet with tears, but God, was it beautiful. In that moment I knew I would die thinking about how his lips felt on my own, regardless of how long from now it would be. I parted from him slowly, staring down at his face and hoping that moment would come sooner rather than later, only to be startled by his flickering eyelids.

“… Felix?”

He stirred, so lightly at first I might have missed it had I not been staring so intently at his face, then sucked in a gasp.

“Ah—“ He hissed, his hand covering the scratches on his chest, his breathing choppy and shallow as he tried to sit up, his eyes frantically searching the roof… until they landed on me. His face relaxed, eyebrows unwrinkled, his mouth fell slack, and tears came to his eyes. His hand came up to touch my face, my shoulders, chest, and arms, as if he needed to let his fingertips wander to believe I was really there.

“You… You came back?”

“Of course I came back, stupid,” I sobbed, pulling him into a hug as I cried into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around me, hands clutching at the back of my shirt. Being in his arms… hearing his voice, it all just felt so… right. My shoulders relaxed, and I let my eyes slip closed as I enjoyed his touch, his cologne’s scent mixing with the scent of his sweat lulling me into a sense of… safety. Belonging.

I had opened my eyes for just a moment before I caught the glint of metal shining in the morning sun. I pulled Felix into my chest tightly and turned so I was above him, holding my hand out above the both of us. The pain reverberated down my entire arm as the sword hit my hand. It was dull enough that it didn't slice my hand clean off, at least, but still sharp enough that the skin of my palm tore with the impact. My brother stood on the other end of it, eyes wild with fury. Hyunjin and Jeongin lay on the ground behind him, both slowly getting up.

“Don't… touch… them…” My heart swelled at the sound of a voice I had never heard before. Jeongin stood, holding his arm as if he’d injured it, “Don't you dare.”

“(Y/N),” (B/N) all but growled at me, “I'm not going to ask you again. Move.”

“I'm not afraid of you,” My voice did not waver, and I tried not to be distracted by Hyunjin behind him, who had rolled onto his stomach and was now on his knees, holding his own shoe above his head. With a grunt, he tossed it, and it hit (B/N) directly in the back of the head. I kicked at his hands while he was distracted, quickly disarming him, picking up the sword and once again turning his own weapon on him. I swung blindly, desperately trying to put as much space between him and Felix as physically possible, unadulterated fear accompanied my anger in every slash, every step. I had to protect Felix. I had to make sure he was safe.

“(Y/N)!” Felix’s voice was wobbly as he tried to sit up, holding his chest as he spoke, “Hyunjin, stop them!”

“How many times,” I swung again, “... do I have to tell you… I won't let you hurt him!”

Hyunjin rushed me, trying to grab at the sword as best he could, but it was no use. I couldn't see anything anymore, blind rage pulsing through every vein in my body, knuckles white with the grip I had on the sword. I swung, and swung, and swung, getting closer and closer to the edge of the roof. My name bubbled up and out of Felix’s mouth once more as he forced himself onto his feet and stumbled towards me. I couldn't hear him. (B/N) held his hands up as he reached the lip of the flat roof. He tried desperately to keep his footing, but slipped on the wet surface, yelping as he went.

“Hyunjin!!”

The world stood still as a hand gripped my wrist tightly, the only sound being mine and Felix’s heavy breathing and the rain pattering against the cobblestone. Slowly, the stars in my vision dissipated, and I could finally see the scene around me. Hyunjin hanging off the roof, Jeongin rushing to help pull my brother up and onto his feet, my brother’s eyes wide with terror and confusion as he grasped at the fabric of his tunic over his heart, bloody scrapes littering his arms with one on his forehead. Finally, Felix. The look on his face could have killed me. Concern, fear, sadness, all greatly evident in his swirling brown eyes.

“F-Felix…”

“Shhhh…” Felix hushed as I dropped the sword behind me onto the cobblestone of the roof, “Easy, (Y/N)... Everything is alright. I'm alright.”

“What… What's the matter? I thought you’d jump at the chance to see me dead.” My brother spat through ragged breaths as he glared daggers at the raven-haired man beside me. I helped Felix down to the ground, mostly trying to ignore my brother's cold stare as I looked over his injuries.

“I…” Felix sighed dejectedly, his eyes turning downward, anything to avoid my brother’s, “I'm not a bad man, (B/N).”

“You're just grumpy.”

I turned to see Hyunjin, arms crossed as he walked to sit next to Felix. I couldn't help but smile, taking his hand in my own and giving it a squeeze.

“... and picky,” Jeongin added as he sat down next to us.

“... and stubborn,” I couldn't help but add, smirking a little and moving some of Felix’s raven hair out of his face as I continued to clean Felix’s wounds.

“Alright, Alright…” Felix hissed as I touched a particularly deep cut, then sighing again and looking at me, “My point is… I'm not the monster your stories made me out to be. I’ve never tried to be.”

Felix took my cheek in one of his hands then, and I paused. His eyes flickered all around my face; to my cheeks, nose, mouth, and back to my eyes again as he continued, “... I know it didn't seem like it at first, but I would never… ever intentionally hurt (Y/N), or anyone they care about.”

Had I been standing, I would have collapsed at the intensity in his words, in contrast with the gentleness of his touch. My brother sighed, his face twisting in embarrassment, doubt, as he sat down on the roof and let Hyunjin check on him. We recounted and explained everything then. The curse, the boys who lived with Felix, and the intricacies of our situation. I verbally meandered through the last week, answering his questions about it, and although he and Felix were definitely… hesitant… to get to know one another, but I couldn't bring myself to care much. Hyunjin mentioned having tea together, which my brother hastily declined. He used the excuse that the village would come looking for him and he needed to get back, but the look in his eyes told me what I needed to know. I hoped to myself that he would come around eventually as I bid him goodbye, and sent him on his way.

“What. A. Morning. Tea will be ready in ten, let’s… not have it up here.” Hyunjin chuckled as he eyed the bloodied hole in the glass, giving my shoulder a squeeze as he took Jeongin by the shoulder and took him downstairs with him. I turned back to Felix, slinging his arm around my shoulders and helping him up. Once he was stable on his feet, I started to walk him toward the door, but he stepped in front of me, hands cupping both of my cheeks.

“(Y/N).” his voice came out in a near-desperate whisper even though we had been left alone on the roof, his eyes bore intensely into my own. My heart lurched into my throat, and I desperately willed my cheeks to cool under his stare.

“Felix…”

Not one more word was said. Felix pulled my face closer to his own, plump lips pressing against mine. I didn’t have any more hesitation in me, I eagerly returned his movements like my life depended on it, my hands wrapping around his bare waist to rest on his back. As the world faded away around us I couldn’t help but relax into him, sighing against his lips with a whimper.

His breath came in shaky pants as he pressed his lips against my own once, twice more, then pulled away. Our eyes met, our cheeks the color of newly sprouted poppies in the Springtime. He chuckled, and I couldn’t help the giggle that made its way up my throat either. It felt like there was a bubble in my chest that I could only burst by laughing, or screaming, or kissing him again. I chose the former of the three, and I kissed him until my lips hurt. I kissed him until my lungs burned from the lack of air. I kissed him until the scent of him made my knees weak, and my entire body shook. I kissed him until I felt my cheeks would explode. We were a mess by the time we finally pulled away from each other, hot breath fanning across my cheeks that only made him want him more. I held back… for now.

“(Y/N)...” He rested his forehead against my own, “I… I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I said almost immediately, “I love you more than flowers love the sun.”

“Alright, alright,” He chuckled, “Let's get down there.”

The castle was bustling this morning, I could hear it outside the door of the bedroom. I tried to close my eyes, to get a little bit more sleep. Of course, I would have no such luck. I gave up, turning to wrap an arm around the person who was supposed to be next to me, but finding nothing but a large, empty bed. I groaned, and heard a chuckle from the fireplace.

“Over here, my love.”

I yawned as I sat up, throwing my legs over the side of the bed and sleepily stumbling over to where Felix sat, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. He kissed my hand, smiling into his book.

“Couldn't sleep?” I mumbled. Felix let out a sigh, closing his book.

“... You're sure we can't cancel tonight?”

I chuckled, coming around the chair to sit on his lap, putting his book onto the table (Saving his place first, I wasn't a monster), and holding his head to my chest, fingers in his hair.

“No, we can't cancel. It's going to be okay, love. Everyone is going to love you, and besides, if they don't, we’re all the way out here!” I kissed the top of his head, and he chuckled a little at me.

“If you say so,” He said as he separated from my chest, smiling up at me. I craned my neck down and pecked him on the lips, sighing as I stood.

“I don't just say so, I know so,” I shot him a wink as I walked to the closet, taking a good look at all of my clothes and beginning to decide what to wear.

Spring and the first month of Summer had gone by like lightning, and now we were in the middle of July. The cicadas sang outside our bedroom windows, the lamplights of the newly-built path to the village slowly turning off one by one with the rising sun. The brilliant pinks and purples told me it was going to rain later, and I couldn't help but get a little excited about the coming showers. As I danced to myself in the mirror, holding two of my fanciest articles of clothing to my face, three quick bangs on the door interrupted my thoughts, and before I could say, ‘Come in,’ Hyunjin all but burst through the door, a smile on his face.

“Good morning, Felix, and good morning, my sunshine!! Todays the day!” He sang, immediately coming up to me and looking over the options I had chosen for my outfit tonight.

“We know today’s the day, Hyunjin, don't be so loud,” Jeongin smirked and rolled his eyes as he approached Felix, the two having quiet conversations about the Summer ball being held at our castle tonight.

Our castle. I loved the sound of that.

Felix came to give me a final kiss as Jeongin took him to a separate dressing room to get ready. Hyunjin finally picked out some clothes for me and opened the screen, standing on the opposite side from me.

“Are you excited, sunshine?”

“Very. Do you think I'll be able to convince Felix to dance?” I half-joked. Hyunjin sighed.

“I hope so. If anyone can, it's you.”

I came around the screen and Hyunjin gave me an audible gasp, “Drop. Dead. You look absolutely amazing.”

“Thank you so very much,” I smiled, and he opened his arms for a hug, which I happily gave him, “What on earth would I do without you?”

“No, no…” Hyunjin pulled apart from me, holding me arms distance away and giving me quite possibly the kindest, gentlest smile he had given me since I met him, “What would I do without you?”

“Die, probably,” I teased, and he laughed, pulling me in again.

The evening went by without a hitch. My brother even showed, although did avoid Felix, and in turn, me, for the better half of the evening. The people of the village were happy here, dancing and laughing and drinking. Felix was only nervous the first hour or so, eventually relenting to my pleas to dance with a nervous smile. As he spun me around the dance floor, all else around us disappeared, and as I stared into his smiling eyes, I knew this was where I was meant to be. I was meant to be in the woods that day all that time ago. I was meant to be in Felix’s arms, I was meant to be in his castle, and sharing in his life. I was meant to love him, just as he was meant to love me.

I had never been so sure of anything in my entire life.

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