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azrielbrainrot · 6 months ago

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Moonlit Shadows - Act I

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: When tasked to find the once famed Temple of the Moon Goddess, Azriel only expected to find old, forgotten ruins if anything at all. He could have never imagined that not only would he find a temple but also someone who would change his life forever.

Tropes/Tags: Star Crossed Lovers (in a way), Forbidden Romance (kinda), Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, some Angst with a Happy Ending

Warnings: a bit of angst

Word Count: 12,4k

Rating: 18+ (this part is actually kinda chill)

Notes: Just as a warning (?) reader has white hair and white silvery eyes in this story but those are the only physical descriptions I will make, they're kind of part of her magic. Also when I started writing this I totally intended on it being a one-shot but the story got away from me and I decided to split it up into 3 parts. I really hope you enjoy!

You've been pacing in front of the temple's door ever since the sun set over the mountain, the warm rays slowly being replaced with the brilliant pale moonlight. You keep wringing your hands together and smoothing down any possible wrinkle on your dress, repositioning the diadem perched on your head to make sure it sits perfectly. It's not often you get visitors up in the temple, let alone any your Goddess went out of Her way to warn you about and gave clear instructions to help in any way you could. You can't quite distinguish if the anxiety building inside you is the result of excitement or wariness - possibly a healthy dose of both.

The last time someone climbed these steps had been almost a full decade ago. It was a quite short affair as well since the visitor only needed a book long forgotten in the temple's library. You'd read it multiple times before, and offered it without hesitation, prompting the traveler to thank you and immediately start descending the mountain, going on his way all the while muttering about finally having all the knowledge he needed to achieve his goal. That small interaction served as a reminder of your purpose in this temple, filled you with a sense of accomplishment you usually felt in such situations, but you've been alone in between these walls since then.

After almost four centuries you're more than used to the quiet, to the way your steps echoe in the grand empty space. The loneliness had been a more prominent companion, but even that had come and gone throughout the years. You had no place in the world, nor family or friends waiting for you anymore. All you had left was your duty to the temple. But you're still only fae and the longing for some company catches up to you every once in a while. At times you think you only want the reminder that you're still alive.

There wasn't much to do around the temple either, it magically gave you food and kept itself clean so you didn't even need to bother with that. You could recite every book in the library at this point and you found you weren't the best artist as you tried your hand at painting and sculpting, even music and dancing. The flowers around the temple seemed to grow effortlessly, not even needing you to tend to them either. Even keeping a journal proved inefficient as there was little to write down, the monotony of your life not interesting enough for such a thing. When tasked with guarding the temple, you would never have imagined boredom would end up being your biggest problem.

You still recall the day your hair started turning white and your eyes dulling, losing their color slowly until they turned into the silver, almost white color they were now, mirroring the moonlight. At first your parents thought it could be some disease or even a curse, they were scared for your health and safety beyond measure, but when the Goddess contacted you and sent you the amulet you now wear religiously around your neck, it guided you and your parents to this very temple hidden in the mountains of the Night Court. She then told you Herself what the fates had written for you, presenting you with an oath and sharing her power with you, making you the Keeper of the Moon Temple.

Everything had seemed impossible to believe at first, the time of the Gods had passed millenia ago, it was hard to find someone who could even name any of them anymore, you certainly couldn't at the time. So when you were told what your role in life was going to be you had been completely blindsided, not even knowing what to make of your new occupation, of being trusted with such an important task when you weren't even three decades old.

Truthfully, you expected at least a few people to show up every once in a while, asking for help or guidance. You even prepared yourself for there to be some threats to the temple, but things had been mostly peaceful and quiet, so quiet. You understand why guarding the temple is important, this type of knowledge and power can't ever fall into the wrong hands, the safety of the world depends on it, but sometimes you wonder what your life could have been like if you hadn't been chosen by fate to hold such a heavy burden by yourself.

Your heart stalls in your chest when you feel a presence approaching, used to feeling them pass by unannounced as the temple remains hidden in its protective spell. When it's clear this is the visitor the Goddess had warned you about, as they entered the wards seamlessly, you take a deep calming breath, adjusting the diadem one last time, and open the heavy doors, revealing the temple to the moonlight. As the stairs come into view, you step up to the threshold and clasp your hands together behind your back, waiting to be of help as your Goddess instructed you to.

Distractedly rehearsing your greeting, unused as it was, you almost miss the dark shadows swirling up the milky steps, passing by you and escaping to all corners of the temple before you have time to react. Your head snaps back to follow them, breaking the calming character you were falling into in preparation to fulfill your duty. Some of your power drips down to your fingertips, casting a white glow under your skin, as you study these shadows intently. Not finding any ill intent in them, as strange as they were, some of the tension leaves your body. They simply lay before you, more and more of these wispy shadows gathering together as they swirled around themselves, not paling even a fraction under the bright moonlight or your powers. Strange little things indeed.

You wonder for a moment if this was the visitor the Goddess had mentioned, not knowing what to make of it or how to approach such a situation. She had not specified if the visitor was fae, though you're not so sure how you would be able to help shadows. Before you could embarrass yourself in trying to speak to these creatures, the same presence you felt earlier makes itself known, much closer than before. Looking up at the starry sky, you find strong, dark wings carrying someone directly to the temple, a glimpse of blue shining over their dark form.

This was already the most interesting visitor you've ever had. You'd never had the pleasure of meeting any winged fae before, and, given their reaction to the fae approaching, you were confident the shadows were under their command. Those were definitely even rarer than winged fae - Shadowsingers, you remember them being called.

As they fly down closer to you and the temple, slowly letting the wind guide them, you feel a strange tug on your chest, and then another, this time strong enough that it makes you look down at yourself with furrowed eyebrows. Your confusion only deepens when you notice a bright string connected to your heart, raising your hand to try and touch it. Your fingers pass right through it, as if it wasn't there in the first place, and soon after you try catching it, the string disappears from sight.

You lay a hand down over your chest, feeling your heart beating under your palm. The string was invisible now, but you could still feel it tugging incessantly, as if urging you to look up. You follow its silent command, almost gasping out loud when you find the winged fae a lot closer than you had expected, catching him as he lands with a harsh tud on top of the steps, arms bracing out to maintain his balance as if he isn't quite used to landing yet. The shadows swirling at your feet rush to him, and a bewildered expression takes over his face, likely mirroring your own, as he stares at you, mouth agape.

Wide leathery wings stand behind him, open in a somewhat awkward angle as he stands frozen in place. As the moonlight filters through them you realize they're not quite black as they appeared before, the insides actually have a beautiful crimson hue to them. Your eyes seem to have a mind of their own as they keep cataloging his entire form, taking note of every detail as if it was crucial information. He was covered from head to toe in black leathers, you recognize it as an armor of sorts. It clung to his every muscle, showcasing them as much as it protected him from harm. You find the same blue light from before twinkling in the midst of all the black, studying it closer to find it came from gems scattered across his armor, you're almost certain they hold some of his magic somehow.

Moving up his neck, you find tan skin shining under the moonlight and black hair curling into his forehead softly, locks messy and a little damp from the flight. The stranger also had striking hazel eyes, and you find yourself struggling to not get lost in them, only bringing yourself to break eye contact when you notice the glittery string once more in the corner of your eye, only this time it's connected to his chest.

Your breath catches in your throat as you follow its path slowly, careful not to lose the thin thread once more, finding it leading back to your own heart. You feel another tug, prompting you to look back up at the male in front of you. A hand falls over your heart at the implication, right where you could feel the phantom string had tied itself. Yet another tug confirming your suspicions.

How could this be?

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

Azriel wasn't expecting his evening to turn out like this when he was called to Rhys' office. While he knew there was going to be a mission of sorts, he never imagined it would involve a temple no one has ever heard of or a Goddess long forgotten. Even with Amren's knowledge and the old books she found corroborating her words, Azriel was still anticipating coming back to Velaris empty handed. He's flown over these same mountains at least a million times in the five centuries he's been alive, and never once has he noticed a temple or any signs of magic.

The woods under him looked completely untouched as far as he could tell, no one choosing to live so far from the neighboring towns, isolated between the trees and steep mountains. His shadows filtered through the woods in case he missed something from his high position, even if he thought this search was in vain, it didn't mean he wasn't going to give it his best to fulfill his High Lord's order. He felt almost naked without his shadows latching onto his body though, the single companion still perched on his shoulder in order to relay him information not giving him nearly enough coverage to feel at ease when he was so far from home.

Mission and discomfort aside, the wind felt heavenly hitting his skin on this warm summer evening. It had been a while since he was able to fly for this long without dreading his destination as it usually meant he was visiting the Illyrian mountains, the Hewn City or a much more gruesome mission than the one he found himself in at the moment. It also feels good to step away from the full houses he found himself in nowadays. As much as he loved his family, Azriel had always valued his alone time and it was getting harder to find himself completely alone in the midst of missions and the ever growing inner circle.

As he was flying over the edge of the mountain, Azriel was getting ready to make the trip back and throw a very satisfying “I told you so” at his brother's face when his shadows suddenly disappeared right before his eyes. The abruptness of it made him panic for a few seconds, clapping his wings so he was hovering in the same place and was able to study the space ahead of him, trying to feel for any type of ward or shield but coming up empty. He could still feel his shadows, and knew they were alright given how calm the remaining one was as it sat on his shoulder and simply urged him forward, as if confused why he had stopped in the first place.

Azriel trusted his shadows blindly, they had never steered him wrong after all, and so he did as he was told and slowly started moving forward once again. After living for five hundred years surrounded by magic, there isn't much that can surprise the shadowsinger, but he can safely say he's never seen anything like this. He felt his body pass through some sort of gateway, one that went unnoticed by him until now, and as he did his surroundings began changing as if they had only been a mirage before.

In between the trees a path carved in white stone could now be seen, glinting under the moonlight in complete contrast to the rest of the dark woods. As his eyes followed this path, going up stairs of the same stone carved into the side of the mountain, he found a white temple sitting right at the top. It wasn't a huge building by any means, but the white eerie glow it emitted made it impossible to miss had it not been the spell covering it - one that would make the one who kept Velaris safe for centuries pale in comparison - and keeping it hidden from the world and unwanted eyes.

Amren had been right after all, something that happens more often than he would ever care to admit. The Goddess of the Moon still had at least a temple left in this world, leaving it behind when She took to the sky. Not much is known about the old Gods, but Azriel, born and raised in the Night Court, felt himself relax as he looked up at the moon shining above him, not believing this Goddess could be anything but benevolent. She had watched him fly over from Velaris after all, it almost felt like he was guided here.

The entire temple was made of white stone - it appeared to be the same type of stones used for the path and stairs leading up to it, only more polished. There were silver highlights carved into the walls and columns, these glowed with an intensity Azriel had never seen. Most of the roof was a huge skylight, likely so the moon could illuminate Her temple and Her followers could bask in Her brilliant light.

Given the color scheme of the entire building, his shadows were easy enough to spot, which would have been a big problem had he decided on a more covert operation when coming to the temple, he was more than glad he came here in peace. His little companions seemed perfectly content as they swirled around and over themselves right in front of the temple's doors, a few steps from a figure completely clad in white.

Even after finding the temple where he had only seen trees and shrubs before, he couldn't help but feel even more surprised that there was someone inside it. A sudden spark of magic has the shadowsinger moving faster, a gasp catching in his throat when he sees bright, pale light coming from the figure's palms. Even this wasn't enough to send the shadows that would be at the receiving hand of it into alarm, something curious on its own as they were usually as suspicious and careful as their master.

Azriel was already within earshot when the person in front of him decided his shadows posed no threat and the white light disappeared from her hands. At first glance she might have looked like a regular high fae female, but there was a different kind of power flowing through her, as shown by the strange way this light magic manifested itself, something Azriel had never felt before.

Upon flying down closer, his feet almost touching the top of the steps in front of the temple, he realizes she had not been wearing a white hood or veil as he initially thought but her hair was completely white. There was an unnatural element to it as each strand shone under the moonlight, almost rivaling it in its intensity. The floor length dress she wore was of the same color, made of a light, breathable fabric, almost translucent in certain areas, swishing softly in the faint breeze. She had not looked up at him yet, seemingly intrigued as she watched her own chest. Perhaps looking at the pendant she wore around her neck, the magic coming from it could almost be seen in its intensity.

Azriel took this moment to take her in, not knowing what to say since he was the one possibly trespassing. She was absolutely gorgeous, truly mesmerizing in her beauty and demeanor. It was almost impossible to believe she was real, standing right in front of him and not a Goddess walking his dreams. For a moment Azriel wonders if this is truly the Goddess, if She never left the land of the mortals as it was once believed, instead keeping herself safely hidden in these uninhabited mountains, but when she looks up from her necklace, eyes falling on him for the first time, all thoughts evaporate from his mind. White, silvery eyes meet hazel and a sudden rush of inexplicable feelings hit him right in the chest, squeezing his heart tight and taking his breath away. It felt as if the world had broken apart and put itself together, as if everything finally made sense. The only thing he could make sense of was one word, swirling around in his mind and completely taking over every cell on his body. Mate. You were his mate.

In his stupor, Azriel forgets he was still up in the air, wings freezing along with the rest of his body and sending him falling towards the ground. Thankfully, he hadn't been too high up, and was still able to land on his feet, knees only buckling under his weight slightly as he steadied himself. This had to be the most ungraceful landing he's performed since his brothers were training him between giggles and harmless teasing when he first joined the Illyrian camps. If he wasn't so surprised and his brain was able to formulate a single thought, he would be cringing at the fact that you had just witnessed it, his mate had witnessed it.

It takes several moments before he starts catching on to the situation, the ringing in his ears subsiding and the rest of the world re-emerging around you. He hadn't even noticed his shadows had returned to him, ecstatic for their master finally found his equal. Azriel tries to school his features in an attempt to keep at least some dignity, in fear of coming on too strong as well, especially since it seemed you were in the same predicament as him, a curious but stunned expression locked in your beautiful face as you studied him. His stupid Illyrian senses make him flare out his wings a little before he has the chance to fully take control of his body. When your gaze finds his once more, his heart stalls in his chest before speeding up at an alarming rate. You haven't even spoken a single word to him, but his heart already sang for yours.

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

The oath you made before your Goddess rushes into your head as you study the handsome male in front of you. How could this be possible? The fates had decided your life lied within the temple long before you were born, so why give you a mate? A bond like this is extremely rare, you'd never seen one in your entire lifetime, albeit you lived isolated from the world for most of it. Still, this was something only a few were blessed with, a bond stronger than what mortal minds could even comprehend, so why waste it on you? Could the fates and the Mother be this cruel?

You can't even bring yourself to hope he didn't notice the brilliant bond forming between you - an angry twist pulling at your heartstrings when you dare to think of hiding it - considering the expression on his face and his silence, it seems he's already more than aware of it. All it took was a single glance and it had fallen into place for both of you.

In the midst of the rushing thoughts invading your brain, you try to remember what you've read about mating bonds. There was a book talking about them in the library, of this much you were sure, but its contents were evading your racing mind.

Gaze falling to the floor, trying to sober up from what you imagine to be one of the most intense occurrences anyone could go through, you almost miss the step he takes towards you. The surprise of it makes you flinch slightly, but it was enough for him to notice and take the same step back, wings coiling up tightly to his back and shadows moving to cover him almost completely, excitement wiped off his face and replaced with a hurt expression.

Your gaze falls on him once more, a self loathing feeling crawling up your throat and making you want to beg for his forgiveness on your knees at the thought that you put that expression on his face. This bond would take some getting used to, in what world would you kneel before a male you've just met. Still, you didn't want him to think he scared or even disgusted you in any way, mate or no mate, that was extremely rude.

You clear your throat softly, remembering the weight of your role in this temple and trying desperately to fall back into character, hoping the familiarity of your duties will bring your mind some peace and help you get through this moment.

“Forgive me, it isn't often that we get visitors,” his entire body tenses up even further at your words, but it relaxes as you keep speaking, “I welcome you to the last Temple of the Moon. I'm the keeper and sole habitant of this temple. I've been tasked to keep it safe from any possible threats, but also do my best to help anyone the Goddess deems worthy of being shown the way, just as you have been.”

You try not to look too long in his general direction in fear of getting lost in his eyes once more, but that's close to impossible when you're talking to him and he might be the most beautiful male you've ever encountered. Taking a step to the side, you hold out a hand towards the door, inviting him into the temple, something you should have already done.

He nods his head once after watching your outstretched arm for a moment longer, and then makes his way inside slowly. As he passes by, you can't help but breathe in his scent, it feels intoxicating and it takes every bit of strength in your body to not let your mind linger on how well it would smell mixed with yours, until you couldn't point out where one ended and the other began.

A gasp pulls you out of your betraying thoughts, a smile finding its way to your lips, knowing the sight was making him speechless. It always sparks a little pride in you when someone gazes upon the temple for the first time. Even after living here for centuries, this temple's beauty still takes your breath away. The entire floor was made of replandescent white stones, silver gems weave highlights into them, creating patterns across the entire room, maps of constellations and lunar phases, and giving it a particular glow of their own. They were illuminated by the giant skylight making up most of the ceiling, as to allow both the moon and sunlight to enter. You've tried identifying the materials used in this construction before but ended up coming up empty. It seems the precious stones and gems used no longer grew in this world, perhaps they never did.

At the far corner of the room there was an altar, one without statue or offering table, but an altar all the same. Even when She walked this world, your Goddess never accepted gifts or ever allowed anyone to replicate her image because even that could end up leaving traces of her power behind. The altar looks empty right now, and you catch yourself wishing he could be here to see it on a full moon, when the moon rays fall right over it and you can communicate with and receive any orders the Goddess might have for you. The entire room holds an even more intense glow during that night of the month as well, you're sure he would find it fascinating.

Making your way around him, careful not to step too close or accidentally touch his wings, you catch sight of his awe stricken face, tan skin glowing beautifully under the moonlight. A small, fond smile appears on his face when his gaze falls back on yours, and you almost curse the Mother for the challenge she just put in front of you. His beauty was truly otherworldly, it rivaled every shiny gem and stone in this room, maybe even the moon herself. How were you supposed to act normally knowing this was your mate?

“I've never seen anything like this before,” he admits softly, eyes never straying from yours. The sound of his voice makes you pause, it feels strangely familiar, like something you've been waiting to hear your entire life. There's a curious kind of magic around mating bonds, you don't know how it's possible for someone you've just met to already have so much power over you, even when you're trying your best to ignore him.

“I still find myself at a loss for words when gazing at this room as well,” you agree, wanting to cringe at the bashful expression you know has fallen over your face. Your plan of keeping a detached demeanor while fulfilling your duties was doomed from the start. You clasp your hands behind your back before continuing in what you hope is a professional voice. “The Goddess warned me of your arrival and left orders for me to help you in any way I can. If you tell me what you seek, I will give you what you came here for as long as it's within my abilities.”

His eyebrows furrow slightly at your words. “How did you know I was coming?”

“The Goddess knows more than us mortals will ever be able to grasp,” you explain as vaguely as possible while hopefully not raising any suspicions. There's not a single cell in your body that thinks he's untrustworthy, but they're incredibly biased, and the inner workings of your role as the Moon's keeper must be protected.

He seems satisfied enough with your answer, but there's a different kind of air about him now. As if remembering he doesn't know you, and has found himself at your mercy.

“You haven't told me what you came for,” you remind him. If you sit in silence for long your thoughts will start drifting again.

“Right,” he clears his throat, a pinkish tint covering the tips of his rounded ears. “I come on behalf of the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court.” Your eyebrows raise at this, not expecting him to be such an important person. “One of the High Lady's sisters has been turned into a seer recently, and given that she wasn't even born fae, these powers have proven extremely hard to control.”

You've heard the story of the human who saved the fae from the evil clutches of Amarantha, and her sisters who were tragically thrown in the cauldron by King Hybern and turned into fae against their will. Your Goddess had even told you one of the sisters vengefully stole her powers from the cauldron, and the other was gifted seer abilities. Given the circumstances in which this all went down, it's understandable that she has been having trouble controlling her powers. Being a seer is an exceptionally heavy burden, and she's still so young too.

“We have some books that might be able to help, both in controlling one's power and pulling an entranced fae out of any visions or dreams they've found themselves stuck in. Was that what you were hoping for?”

“Yes,” he admits, apparently relieved at having found what he was looking for, “We found texts mentioning the followers of the Moon Goddess often had prophetic dreams, and wrote entire manuals on how to navigate them. Since Elain wasn't born with these powers these books seemed perfect to help her, and so the High Lady sent me searching for them.” You nod, motioning for him to follow you as you turn and start walking to the library, already making a mental list of all the books that might help his friend.

Even lost in thought, you sense him stopping in his steps as you're walking down the corridor, overwhelmingly aware of his every move as you were. This prompts you to turn around and face him in question, only to find him watching you in amazement.

“You're breathtaking,” he blurts out before he can catch himself, making heat rush up your neck and settle over your entire face. He looks away embarrassed for a moment, one of his shadows crawling up his neck and over his ear, before looking back at you with a bashful look. “I'm sorry. I just- Is it normal for you to glow like this?”

This power has been a part of you for so long, you almost forget about the way your hair lights up in the dark, an aura surrounding you as well, giving you an overall ethereal glow. “Yes, I harness power from the moon and She glows so…” you trail off, biting your lip as he keeps studying you. “The library is right up ahead,” you add, turning your back to him once more so you can gather your thoughts for the nth time since he stepped foot into this temple.

As you navigate through the familiar rows of shelves your heart finally calms, easily picking up the pertinent books. You can't help but keep watching him out of the corner of your eye, not out of suspicion, but curiosity for his every reaction. He seems content with following after you as he watches the decorations and studies the books sitting on the shelves, not once asking you what you're giving him, simply carrying the books you hand him. It makes you wonder if he usually trusts everyone this easily or if it's something reserved for you.

When you hand him the last book, you move to the back of the room slowly, the place where you keep some important magical amulets and tools, waiting on any sign from the Goddess forbidding you from lending him any of them. He comes to stand beside you then, likely noticing your hesitation.

“There is also an artifact that I think could help your friend,” you start, picking up the bracelet in question and holding it up as you explain its power, “This can help numb one's powers.”

“Like faebane?”

You shake your head, “No, this is completely painless, but it's vital that it is only used when she's finding herself lost in her visions and you're struggling to pull her out. This is not to be used as a crutch. If she used it to suppress her powers too often, she might never be able to take control of her full powers and this bracelet could become something she can't live without.” He nods, hopefully understanding the gravity behind your words. “It's also extremely rare and dangerous so I ask that, as soon as she has a better grasp of her abilities, I would say within a few years at most, this bracelet is delivered back to the temple so it can be kept safe.”

“What happens if we don't return it?”

The question makes you tense up and close your hands around the bracelet, your voice coming out clipped as you answer him. “I'm not entirely sure as no one has ever attempted something so foolish as long as I've been here, but those types of transgressions are handled by the Goddess so I imagine you would not be able to keep it even if you tried.”

“I wasn't considering keeping it. I was merely curious,” he rushes to explain, sincerity dripping from every word and making you relax a bit.

“Curious?”

“If you would be the one to come for it,” he confessed.

A warm tingly feeling spreads through your body as you digest his words. Would he seriously consider stealing from a God just for a chance to see you again? Even if it meant being at the end of your wrath? Can you be confident the bond wouldn't drive you to such extremes as well?

“I can't leave the temple unattended,” you murmur, much too softly for your own good. Your emotions are running all over the place, it almost seems like they're fighting to see which one will take control of your body, and unfortunately, you have an inkling as to which is winning as his scent overwhelms your senses once again.

“Of course,” he says, taking a small step closer to you, shadows mostly retreating from his body, “Forgive me. I didn't mean to upset you.” Must his voice sound like a cup of hot chocolate after a day spent playing in the snow?

It doesn't help that you've been in this temple for so long that you can't even recall the last time someone touched you, not even sexually, no one has so much as held your hand or hugged you in decades, ever since your parents passed. Looking at him, you know you could get lost in his arms, your head resting against his strong chest.

It's only when you squeeze the bracelet too hard, a bit of its power zapping through you, that you're finally able to pull yourself from the beautiful hazel of his eyes, and your consuming thoughts. Clearing your throat and handing him the bracelet. He only hesitates a second, likely pulling himself out of the moment as well, before carefully taking it from your hand, conscious of not letting his skin touch yours, much to your dismay.

You can feel your eyes widen at the sight of his scarred hands before you have a chance to school your features. The armor he wears and the sword strapped between his wings tell you he's a warrior, but you can't imagine what could have happened for this injury to scar like this. Someone employed directly under the High Lord must have access to the best healers in the court. Suddenly, anger bubbles in the pit of your stomach at the thought that someone dared to hurt your mate.

This time he's the one to pull away from you abruptly, shadows returning to their master, and that infuriating string tugging at your heart as he does. It makes you want to reach out and hold his hand, reassure him somehow, but thankfully your brain catches up to the thought that might be overstepping, and so you simply nod at him and ask him to follow you back to the temple's main room once more.

The walk back is filled with a heavy atmosphere, not only considering your oversight, but also at the realization that you must send him away now, likely never to see him again. If you're lucky he will be the one to return the bracelet, and you will be able to see him in a few years. The thought makes you slow your pace.

It's only when you reach the heavy doors, that you allow yourself to turn to him, his face reflecting your feelings perfectly. You briefly consider mentioning the bond, at least to make sure he feels it too, but you fail to see what good that would bring. You still can't leave the temple and, now that he's gotten what he came for, he will not be able to return either. This will be the last time you see each other, regardless of your feelings.

He studies your face carefully, perhaps wondering the same. It seems he reaches a conclusion as he speaks up, “Can you tell me your name?” He sounded hopeful, but somehow scared of asking, as if denying him could hurt him beyond comparison.

You whisper your name hesitantly, knowing this isn't just another stranger, this was your mate. He repeats it, tasting it on his tongue as he stares at you with an intensity you almost couldn't bear, but were unable to look away from.

“My name is Azriel,” he offers willingly, like he wanted nothing more than to hear you say his name, and who were you to deny him this when you were already withholding so much? You repeat his name the same way he did yours, the impertinent little silver string connecting you and your mate reappearing as the delicious word left your lips.

You keep repeating it in your mind as he thanks you for your help and you watch him take flight, hesitation written in his entire body language as his wings slowly carry him over the clouds, looking back down multiple times as if fighting himself to keep moving. You repeat it once more out loud, when you can't see him anymore and you know he's out of earshot. This time his name is followed by a broken whisper of an apology.

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

The flight back to Velaris was one of the hardest ones Azriel has ever attempted, noticeably taking him much longer than it would have under normal circumstances. He has had to fly back home on an injured body and even injured wings, carrying another with him – Cassian of all people – and he's had to fly through the most extreme weather, heavy rain, snow and the torrid desert sun. All of those things had seemed easy compared to what he was experiencing now with a well rested body.

Both Rhysand and Cassian had mentioned how the mating bond made them act differently, how it seemed like it was taking control of their body and pushing them to act a certain way, but he didn't expect it to be this bad. His every instinct was screaming at him to turn around and go back for his mate.

He even had to take a break along the way, after watching the temple disappear right before his eyes, hidden inside the spell that had kept it safe for millenia. As the sight of the brilliant building was replaced with trees and rocks, the only thing going through Azriel's mind was that he might never see his mate again, the mere thought sending his heart into disarray. He spends a good while sitting under the moonlight, looking ahead at where he knows she is, while his shadows do their best to comfort him. Trying desperately to wrap his head around everything that happened, and how much his life changed in such a short time.

If he had been given a warning, a chance to prepare himself, then maybe he would have approached things differently, but getting blindsided by a mating bond wasn't in his plans. In fact, it had been a good while since he had stopped hoping for a mate.

He had longed for one most of his life. For someone that not only was his equal, but was also able to connect to him in ways only those who have experienced such a thing can begin to comprehend. A person that would accept him no matter how wretched he was, how much blood he has had to wash off his hands for the sake of his court. Someone he would love with every breath in him, even if it ruined him completely.

So many don't truly believe in mating bonds until they see them in front of them, but Azriel always did. He'd seen the worst this world had to offer and knew that if there was such darkness, then its counterpart would be equally as strong. And what could be stronger and brighter than love?

It wasn't until his brothers found mates of their own within a year of each other that Azriel started truly wishing for one though. Before, it was nothing more than a dream, just as he had dreamt of flying when he was locked in his cell, of seeing his mother when his cruel father kept him away from her, but seeing the happiness the mating bond had brought his brothers and how amazing the connection they shared with their mates was, he couldn't help longing for the same.

That was until enough years passed, everyone around him happily mated or in loving relationships while he stood by and watched from the same dark corner of the room. Azriel had convinced himself he wasn't worthy of a mate, even now after seeing you he can't help but feel the same. You were perfect in every aspect of the word, a beacon of light even kept away in your temple, while Azriel was nothing more than a monster. The feared Spymaster of the Night Court. Always ready to drench his hands in blood for the sake of his family and his home, always covered in shadows. A lesser fae, Illyrian of all kinds.

You deserve someone better, of that much he's sure, but the Mother had decided you were equals, and Azriel didn't mind doing his best to be worthy of you even if he had to work for it for the rest of his life. He's been waiting to love someone for so long, has been saving all of that inside him, and he wants nothing more than to shower you in affection, in reverence. Except it didn't seem like he would have the chance.

For most of your interaction, Azriel was convinced you had also felt the bond forming between you two, but he couldn't be sure, not when you hadn't even mentioned it or alluded to it before showing him out. Maybe he had read too much into things, let his own feelings bleed into his analysis, or maybe you simply didn't want a mating bond, not with someone like him. It didn't seem like you knew of him, but who's to say you haven't heard of the awful things he's done, and decided you didn't want anything to do with a monster like him.

The thought had his shadows rushing to soothe him once more, whispering vehement denials of his unworthiness as they covered him. Unfortunately, they wouldn't answer any of his questions about you, claiming it wasn't their place to explain your feelings or situation. In a way they were right, but that left him with no idea of what to think.

Azriel sat on that mountain, mulling over everything that had happened until the first rays of the sun started rising over the horizon. It wasn't until Rhysand reached out to check on him, worried at his spymaster's unusual tardiness, that he resumed his trip back to Velaris, this time passing through shadows along the way to cut his time shorter, hoping his brother hadn't caught glimpse of the heartbreakingly beautiful female consuming his every thought. Trying desperately to clear his mind as the cool wind hit his face, preparing for the meeting that was waiting for him as soon as he got home.

“So the temple truly exists?” Rhysand had been as skeptical about the temple's existence as Azriel, finding it hard to believe that such a thing could be hidden in his own court without his knowledge.

Azriel nods and sets the books you've given him on the dark desk, dropping the bracelet on top of the pile carefully, trying not to be reminded of the way you had handed it to him, or focus on your scent still clinging to it faintly. Shaking himself out of it and letting the spymaster mask fall over his face, he starts explaining how he had found the temple behind a powerful spell, going into detail about the building itself, the keeper who had helped him and the books and bracelet given to him, including the warnings you gave him, making sure to stress the fact that the bracelet was to be returned as soon as Elain gained enough control of her abilities.

“You really didn't feel the wards around the temple?”

“No, if my shadows hadn't disappeared right before my eyes I wouldn't have even noticed they were there.” So much had happened that Azriel almost forgot how peculiar those wards were, in fact all the magic present in the temple and in you had felt different.

“And this keeper?” His heart speeds up treacherously, enough so that Rhys gets a curious glint in his purple eyes, undoubtedly noticing it. “Tell me about her.”

A soft scowl takes over his features, a strange possessiveness creeping up before has the chance to quell it. “She was waiting for me at the entrance. Apparently the Moon Goddess warned her there was a visitor coming.”

“She can talk to the Goddess?”

“It seems so,” Azriel hesitates for a moment, “Her magic is different from any fae I've seen. Her hair is completely white, and her eyes aren't much darker, maybe a bit more silver. There was a certain aura about her, her entire being seemed to glow beautifully under the moonlight, even more when we moved inside. She truly looked otherworldly. In that moment, she looked even more radiant than the stars and the moon combined.”

A moment of silence falls over the room as everyone digests Azriel's words, tiny gasps leaving Feyre and Elain, who had been out of it for most of the conversation as a result of yet another one of her visions, and Nesta's jaw dropping significantly as they were not used to hearing the Shadowsinger muse about someone like this. Unfortunately, the others have seen him drunk enough when he was younger, so it wasn't as much of a surprise.

“What was that, brother?” Cassian's teasing voice cuts through his thoughts, “I thought you didn't resort to poetry.”

Azriel looks up at this, heat rising to his cheeks at the amused looks shared by everyone in the room, realizing he had lost himself in his descriptions of you, unable to keep them as clinical as he normally would, especially when it came to a mission.

“I just meant her magic manifests in a way I've never seen before,” he finishes lamely, one of his shadows oh so helpfully crawling up his neck to notify him that no one seemed to believe his excuse.

“Right, her magic,” Nesta mocks, suddenly interested in hearing about the temple after focusing on the books that would be helping her sister.

Thankfully, Amren didn't care about whether he found the keeper beautiful or not, and wanted to keep the conversation on track, a bored expression on her face as she pulled the attention back to her and the topic at hand.

“You said she called herself the keeper of the temple, correct?”

Azriel nods at her while checking his mental walls just in case, lest he also let them fall in his moment of distraction, and his High Lord or Lady saw something they shouldn't. He can only guess what feelings and thoughts would be attached to your image in his mind. If they saw this he would never hear the end of it.

“I believe she not only can communicate with the Goddess but also shares some of her powers. It's hard to determine just how powerful she truly is,” the ancient one turns to Rhys and Feyre, a serious look taking over her features, “She could become a threat to us.”

“She's not a threat,” his voice cuts through the room, protecting his mate instinctively.

Rhysand raises one annoyingly perfect eyebrow at Azriel's sudden outburst. Some of the amusement still lingers around the room, but the anger behind his statement was undeniable, creating some tension and confusion between everyone. It's not often they see him so on edge, to the point of raising his voice at Amren of all people.

He tries to calm himself as much as possible, knowing this is a symptom of the mating bond and that his brothers and sister-in-laws might be able to figure that out, and tries to explain himself once again.

“I was the one who talked to her, there were no ill intentions when she guided me through the temple and gave me the books. She even added more books than we wanted or knew existed, and the bracelet. She helped us willingly.”

Amren studies him through narrowed eyes for a moment longer before finishing her earlier thought. “Even if she had any ill intentions, keepers are bound to their temples and can't physically leave, so there wouldn't be much to worry about.”

It feels like the world stops when Azriel hears these words. Every little hope he was clinging to in regards to your bond escaped him in that moment. If what Amren said was true, you couldn't leave the temple, even if you wanted to come and find him, and he couldn't find the temple unless he needed something and the Goddess showed him the way. He could very well never see you again, or only once more, when Elain got better and he had to deliver the books and bracelet back to the temple. Was that why you ignored the bond? Because you knew there was no hope for the two of you?

Azriel spends the rest of the meeting in a sort of trance, barely able to listen to what his family was talking about, or even register what they decided when it came to helping Elain use the books. It was impossible to focus on anything when it felt like his life, a dream that had barely started was crumbling right before his eyes. He only tunes back in when the meeting is over and most of the Inner Circle starts leaving, hoping he can at least go rest from his flight, take a long bath and find a quiet place to be alone and digest these life changing last few hours.

He was already on his feet, dragging his exhausted body to the door when Rhys called out his name, making him turn around in question. “There's something else we need to discuss.” His brother was always the most perceptive at the worst times. The last thing Azriel wants to do right now is discuss his miserable fate with anyone.

Everyone filters out the room then, even Feyre who drops a kiss on her mate's cheek before following her sister out - a gesture he's more than used to witnessing but bears a different weight today - leaving the two brothers alone in the quiet office. Azriel doesn't move from his spot, standing in the middle of the room with crossed arms as Rhysand studies him, daring him to start the conversation, secretly praying he simply has another mission to send him on instead of the conversation he's almost sure is about to start.

“Are you going to tell me what happened with this keeper?”

Azriel has to physically stop himself from sighing. Why couldn't the Mother let him have a moment after everything that has already happened in the last few hours?

“Nothing happened,” he sounds defensive even to himself, his mind too preoccupied to try and mask his emotions, “She gave me the books and then I left.” This much was true, unfortunately.

Rhys simply hums, always sounding irritatingly sure of himself. “So you wouldn't mind showing me your memories of last night, right? I'd like to take a good look at the temple. It seemed quite intriguing,” he pauses for a second, head tilting a fraction to the side, mouth forming into a smirk, “and so did she.”

A snarl escapes Azriel's mouth at his brother's words. Even if he knew he was being baited, controlling this damned bond was impossible right now. Rhysand's smirk only deepens, like a predator who successfully lured its prey, since his brother gives him the exact reaction he was expecting with that little comment. No wonder Azriel has to work so hard as his Spymaster, it's a miracle Rhys has lived this long.

“You look very defensive of a female you've only exchanged one simple conversation with.”

“Like I said before,” he says, that snarl not quite leaving his lips no matter how hard he tries, “She helped us without a second thought, even more than we expected. I just don't understand why everyone keeps insisting that she might be a threat.”

“I didn't say she was a threat, I simply asked you to show me what she looked like.” The High Lord taps his purple painted nails on the table, waiting for a response. When it becomes clear that Azriel isn't taking the bait, Rhys keeps going, “Can't blame me for being curious of how this keeper beautifully glows under the moonlight. She looked otherworldly, you said?”

The thought of assassinating his loving brother crosses Azriel's mind. He doesn't even know what to respond knowing those were his own words, and any reaction would be amplified by the mating bond. The High Lord had him right where he wanted him.

As he keeps staring at his brother, shadows climbing up his body until most of him is covered from those intense violet eyes, Rhysand's expression changes, a somewhat defeated look replacing the earlier amusement as he accepts that he'll have to pry the truth from his spymaster.

“Azriel, I've known you for over five centuries. I can tell when you're hiding something from me,” his face and tone turning even more serious as he continues, “I also know what a fresh mating bond feels like, the emotions it evokes in us.”

Azriel stares at his brother for another moment, before realizing there was no need to try and pretend he wasn't right, letting out a sigh before sitting down in the chair across from him defeatedly, shadows settling while his wings drooped, enough to touch the floor.

“If you already know, why are you asking me about it?”

“I didn't expect this to be your reaction,” he says, thoroughly studying Azriel's face. “I don't understand why you wouldn't be happy. I know it can be scary, but you've always wanted a mate, Az.”

“There's nothing to be happy about.”

Rhys simply rolls his eyes, “I know a bit more about mating bonds than you do. Trust me there's a lot to be happy about.”

His temper rises at this, emotions still not having settled - he's starting to wonder if they ever will. Even his shadows were becoming overstimulated, not knowing how to soothe their singer in these circumstances.

“Didn't you hear what Amren said? She can't leave the temple, she's bound to it, and I can't go back there since it's hidden under whatever spell that was,” the words almost caught in his throat, “I'm never seeing her again.”

Saying it out loud makes the whole situation unbearably real. It's not often Azriel sees himself in conversation such as these, always one to ignore his feelings for as long as possible, and then isolating himself when they become too much, but his brother knows him too well, as he said before, and was prying out everything too easily.

“I don't even know if she wanted this,” he finds himself whispering.

“Why wouldn't she?”

Azriel swallows all the self-pity, the unworthiness he felt when it came to you, or anyone else really. Diving into these feelings would lead them into a different conversation, one he wasn't sure he could handle, much less right now, and so he opts for the simpler answer.

“She didn't mention the bond once, she was ignoring it – if she even felt it at all,” he leans back and runs his hand through his hair, “my feelings were muddled the whole time I was there so I can't even know for sure.”

“You didn't tell her you were her mate either,” Rhysand reminds him.

Would things have gone a different way if he had? Or would you simply let him down as soon as he brought it up? Did it even matter? Would he be able to survive your rejection?

“She told you the temple showed itself for the people who needed it, right?” Azriel looks up at his brother, nodding. “Seems to me like you need to talk to her.”

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

You're not entirely sure what one is supposed to do after finding their Mother-blessed mate, and then proceed to send them on their way, possibly to never return. Not being able to get even a wink of sleep and spending the next few hours searching your library for any information on mating bonds seems appropriate though. There wasn't anything written in these books that you didn't already know about mating bonds: extreme attraction, a connection of emotions, feelings of primal possessiveness, the possibility for a love unlike any other.

There was no mention of the silver string you'd seen tied around both of your hearts, but the bond seems to manifest itself differently for everyone, and the magic your Goddess has poured into you was peculiar to say the least. Even Azriel might not have seen or felt it manifest the same way you did, but that doesn't mean it's not there. Denying it is out of the picture at this point.

The section about rejecting mating bonds caught your eye, but it quickly soured your mood. It seems there's no way to reject a mating bond and hope for life to ever go back to normal, especially for males as they would always feel like a part of them was missing. The book didn't exactly go into depth on the topic – there can't be too many other idiots thinking of turning down a mating bond, – so it didn't mention anything about just ignoring the bond. Would it just fizzle out until you could barely feel anything, or would it end up with the same effects of a rejected bond? As much as you knew this bond was doomed from the start, you didn't want to convict Azriel to a lifetime of madness, or even worse. It was bad enough he couldn't get a mate out of you.

After your mood deflates at the bleak prospect for your future, and the sun has already replaced the moon, you decide to indulge yourself for a moment. Since your encounter had been so brief, you ended up not finding out too much about Azriel aside from his name, and, as much as there was a voice nagging at the back of your mind, warning you that trying to learn more about your mate won't help you in successfully ignoring the bond at all, you're still only fae and curiosity got the best of you. How could you not be curious about your mate?

You'd heard stories about a shadowsinger working under the High Lord of the Night Court, but you didn't know if that was him as the High Lord had changed since then. If it was though, this would make him a truly important figure for this court, country even. You can't help but feel proud at the thought.

Your search for information on Shadowsingers soon proves fruitless, not being able to find much else aside from their abilities to communicate with shadows, rare as they are, so you move onto researching winged fae instead, in hopes of finding out what kind he is. There are various kinds, this much you know, but for some reason you've always imagined them all to have feathered wings. It's at times like these that you wished you had traveled more when you were younger.

Most of the day is spent like this, tucked into your favorite sofa in the library, the temple refilling your teacup and offering you little snacks as you search for any bit of information that could help you understand who Azriel is. A tug on your silver string finally pulls you out of the moment, body immediately going into alert as you feel your mate nearing. These feelings are entirely too abstract, there's no way of knowing if he's flying over the temple or simply a bit closer than he had been an hour prior - which could still be halfway across the Night Court. You'd also found in one of the books that mates could attempt reaching out to each other through the bond, the descriptions of the resulting feeling appearing quite similar to what you were experiencing at the moment.

You try to ignore it and carry on reading your book on wings - the irony not lost on you - but the string keeps tugging incessantly, even more firmly now, and you suddenly get the feeling that he was actually close, possibly even trying to reach out at the same time or following the bond.

Had he come looking for you? You told him the temple kept itself hidden unless the visitor needed something from within these walls and the Goddess allowed them passage. He had to know that he wouldn't find anything more than trees and shrubs in this forest, the temple keeping itself out of sight even if he had been here before and knew its exact location, such were the wards around this place.

Putting away the book and sitting up on the sofa, you wonder what you should do. There's no way of communicating with him, and you won't be able to let him in, no matter how desperate you were since that decision was not your own to make. Your role was to protect the temple, but you knew he wasn't a threat either. Were you to simply stand by and watch while he looked for you, only to be met with silence? The Mother seems to have a twisted sense of humor.

As you were preparing yourself mentally for what you assumed were going to be a tough few hours, you feel the unmistakable sign of someone passing through the barrier, prompting you to stand up and winnow straight to the main hall, opening the front doors in a rush, only to find a familiar dark figure waiting for you.

If you weren't witnessing it with your own eyes, if your heart wasn't beating at that rhythm that seemed reserved solely for him, you wouldn't have believed this to be true. Your feet move of their own accord, carrying you towards your mate as he stands at the entrance to your temple, a contagiously hopeful expression on his face as he watches you move to him.

“How did you get here?” You can't help the dumb question, not being able to understand what is happening in the midst of your surprise and every other feeling that came with his presence.

“I needed to talk to you,” he explains in a breathy tone, smiling down at you like he wasn't sure if this would have worked either, if he was actually going to be able to find you.

The Goddess showed him the way, if She hadn't he wouldn't have been able to find you, even with any shadowsinger trick he might have had up his sleeve. Could She know he's your mate? She had been the one to warn you of his arrival the day before after all.

You're still trying to gather your thoughts when he continues, skipping over all the pleasantries as if he couldn't keep the words in any longer.

“You're my mate.”

Hearing the word coming from his mouth makes your heart soar, a tingling feeling spreading over your entire body as if lava was now running through your veins. This was not a confession you needed to hear, but the bond welcomed it anyway.

“I know,” you admit, a bittersweet smile overtaking your features.

“Are you unhappy with it? With me?” You quickly shake your head in denial, but he continues before you have the chance to explain, “I would understand it if you were, and if you don't want the bond, I won't force you to accept it. I promise I will never hurt you.”

Is this what has been going through his mind since he left? That you wouldn't want him? The thought makes you swallow, you've only wanted to spare him as much pain as you could, not hurt him more yourself.

“Azriel, that's not it. There's nothing wrong with you, or any reason I wouldn't want you as my mate” you assure, “but I swore my life to protecting this temple, and I can't physically leave the grounds. That's not fair to you.”

He doesn't seem to be surprised at the information, meaning he was probably already aware of your predicament and decided to come talk to you anyway, but he still takes a moment before speaking, thinking through his words as he watches you, shadows coming up to whisper in his ear.

“Did you make a vow of chastity or anything similar?” The question takes you aback for a second, heat rising to your cheeks at the implication.

“Not explicitly, no,” you clear your throat, “but it's hard to keep a relationship when you're bound to a temple hidden in the middle of nowhere. I can't even walk past the first few steps.”

Azriel looks behind him at your words. If he took a few steps down, you wouldn't be able to follow him, a different set of wards keeping you within these grounds. When he meets your eyes once again, you add carefully, “This isn't a relationship worth pursuing when we both know it won't end up working.”

“I think I would like to decide that for myself,” he says as he takes a small step closer to you, “if you'll allow me.”

“What?”

“I would like to come visit you whenever I can, and get to know you. This… I don't think we should throw away a chance like this so lightly, not without at least giving it a try.” He closes most of the distance between you, raising up his hand and holding his palm up for you to take, “Even if it never becomes a romantic relationship, or if it ends up breaking both of our hearts, I don't want to be the person who didn't fight for something so special in fear of getting hurt.”

You watch his hand as you mull over his words. It's not as if he doesn't make sense in his argument, you're more than aware how downright stupid it is to throw away a mating bond when some people spend their whole lives searching for one, but you're scared, for both of your sakes. Letting your mate into your life, even without accepting the bond, knowing that there will come a time when you will want more from it than what you're capable of having would not simply hurt you both, but change both of your lives beyond recognition – it could even kill you. And yet, staring into his hopeful eyes every little reason why you should be turning him down, walking back into the temple and closing the door behind you, seems to escape your mind.

When his hand lowers slightly, wings drooping as well, possibly taking your hesitation as denial, your hand moves to hold his instinctively, surprising the both of you. You had been kidding yourself into thinking you could fight a bond like this. The smallest sign that your mate would leave and your body moved to keep him by your side. Your decision has been made. You can only hope the Gods will have mercy on you.

“I would like to get to know you too, Azriel,” you say, squeezing his hand in yours as a blinding smile takes over his devastatingly handsome face. “As long as the Goddess shows you the way to the temple, I don't see anything wrong with… talking.”

He lets his thumb run over the back of your hand before raising it to his lips, sending your heart into disarray as he leaves a soft kiss on your skin. A flush covers the tip of his ears, and you catch a flash of the silver string connecting the both of you.

“Then I promise to come see you as often as I can.” He lets your hands fall between you two, fingers still intertwined as you stare at each other like fools. You catch yourself after a moment, thanking the Mother for living in this isolated mountain for once so no one could witness this.

“Do you want to come in? You must be tired after your flight,” you invite, letting go of his hand, missing the warmth of his skin immediately.

His gaze drops to your hand before meeting yours once again and nodding, following you inside into the main hall he had been in before. It looked different in the light of day, his hazel eyes studying it once more.

“I didn't fly all the way here,” he starts, gaze still stuck on the stone covered walls, “I can travel through shadows, similarly to how most high fae can winnow.”

“Oh.” You watch as his shadows move lazily around him, coming up his legs. “Is that one of your shadowsinger abilities?”

“Yes.” You wanted to ask more, your earlier curiosity returning, but you find a conflicted expression when he meets your eyes, you can also feel it in your chest, and so you wait for him to decide if he wants to share it with you.

“I'm not high fae,” he admits.

“Right, the wings,” you let out, much too excitedly, as your eyes fall on the huge appendages on his back, “I've never met anyone with wings, and haven't even heard of featherless wings. I searched in the library for types of winged fae, but most of our collection is a bit outdated, and the Goddess was never too interested in those sorts of things so I couldn't find anything that fit your description.” Your mind finally catches up to your words then, eyes widening before falling to your hands as you play with your fingers, and add lamely, “I have a lot of time on my hands here, and I didn't think I'd see you again so…”

You dare a look at his face when his silence drags on too long, finding him watching you with a surprised expression, wide hazel eyes staring into your white ones. His shadows had crept up his neck once again - singing to him you suppose.

Azriel finally finds his words after another moment, your eyes not straying from his for a second, “I'm Illyrian,” he starts, studying your face carefully before continuing, “As far as I know, we're the only ones whose wings have no feathers.”

“Illyrian?”

“Have you heard of it?” He seems scared somehow, but you're not exactly sure why he would be. You try to remember where you've heard the word before, only taking you a moment to remember them as people who live in the mountains up in the north, and were part of the High Lord's army.

“Yes. I know they're people who live in the mountains, and fought in the war but I didn't even know you had wings,” you gesture to them, “I didn't get much of a chance to travel before I came to the temple, so I've never met any Illyrians.”

“That's all you've heard?” You nod slowly, eyebrows furrowing at his insistence. “Illyrians have an unfavorable reputation. The males train their whole lives to fight, and the females aren't regarded as much more than a means for procreation,” he explains further, “Some have started changing their ways, slowly, but most camps insist on their traditions, no matter how cruel. They- We just don't have a good reputation.”

You start understanding where he was getting at. Some fae had trouble opening their eyes to how the world was changing around them, choosing to remain willfully ignorant to the harm it brought those who were different from them, who they deemed as lesser. He was scared that, had you heard about whatever cruelty he's seen from his peers, you would judge him for it. You feel a little offended that he would think so lowly of you, but the truth is he doesn't know you at all, or you him.

“It's hard to outlive archaic traditions when we live for centuries. I wouldn't ever dream of passing judgment on an entire group of people for the beliefs some of its members insist on clinging onto,” you clasp your hands together behind your back, shrugging as you smile up at him, “and I might be biased, or even wrong, but I think you're very kind, Azriel. You came all the way here to help your friend, with no real proof that you'd find what you were looking for, and then you came back to ask permission to visit me, even when you thought I might not accept it. Cruel is the last word I'd use to describe you. I'd rather go with sweet.”

“Sweet?” He asks, a flush rising to his cheeks and a bashful smile finally erasing that conflicted expression off his face. “You think I'm sweet?” You hum in agreement, your grin growing so large it hurts your cheeks. “I'll have to let my mother know at last someone agrees with her.”

You let out a laugh, the image of a baby Azriel getting showered in praises from his mother entering your mind. You almost have trouble imagining him as a child, but you have no doubts he was more than sweet, adorable even, with his round cheeks and small wings.

“So…” You lean back on your heels, intertwining your hands behind your back. “Do you want me to show you around the temple?”

“I would love to,” he agrees with a blinding smile on his face.

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader

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middleearthpixie · 8 months ago

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Something in the Night ~ Chapter Twenty-Five

Summary: Following the Battle of the Five Armies, a seriously wounded Thorin Oakenshield returns to Erebor to recuperate and eventually ascend the throne as king. With the deaths of Azog the Defiler and his son, Bolg, Thorin no longer has to worry about the bounty the Defiler placed on his head and can instead concentrate on restoring Erebor to its former glory.

Nina Carren of Esgaroth has one goal—to make Thorin Oakenshield pay for unleashing Smaug the dragon unto her home—where he destroyed the town and killed her family. The Defiler might be gone, but his bounty remains very much in place, and she fully intends to collect on it.

Finally, the opportunity shows itself for her to do just that, only to have it go horribly awry. Wounded and now at his mercy, neither Nina nor Thorin stopped to think what might happen, should things not go quite according to plan…

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x ofc Nina Carren

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.9k

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Previous chapters can be found here.

Nina squinted in the brilliant sunshine, lifting her hand to shade her eyes as Erebor loomed above them, but Thorin gently steered her to the left of the fortress’ entrance. “So, where are we going?”

He smiled down at her. “There’s something I wish to share with you, mesmel. And trust me, it will make sense when I do.”

“If you say so.”

His hand tightened about hers and perhaps it was but her imagination, but it felt as if his palm grew damp as they navigated the stone steps—some of them with bits crumbled away—that ran up and around Erebor’s façade and along the city’s labradorite western wall. The soft rush of water reached their ears as they climbed, growing louder with each step.

At the top, the scene before them was equal parts desolate and welcoming. As Erebor had been built into and beneath the Lonely Mountain, rocks and debris littered the somewhat broken flagstone and obsidian walkway to their right. But to their left stretched a field, the grass mostly green with only a few brown scrabbly patches remaining from winter, and beyond that, a wide river rushed softly by.

In the distance, rose a dark gray stone tower and as she studied it, the fortress beyond it came into view as well, one of stone mottled pale gray into near black that blended with its surroundings so well, it disappeared unless one concentrated upon it.

“Thorin?”

“Ravenhill,” he replied, pointing to the gray stone tower. “This is where I confronted Azog for the last time. He’d pursued us—me, Fíli, and Kíli—from one end of Middle-Earth to the other and I’d had enough. I’d tried to end him just outside of Goblin-town, and had failed. This time, I would not fail.”

She gazed first at him, then back at the tower that grew larger with each step. The river wound out of sight, most likely snaking about Ravenhill itself. “Why did he give such stubborn chase?”

“I have no idea. I never knew. My guess, however, is that we’d defeated him and his orc army at Khazad-dûm andin the process, I took his arm. I thought I killed him there, but I was wrong.”

She paused, turning to him once more. “Khazad-dûm?”

“Moria. One of our most sacred of places. They defiled it and we fought to reclaim it. In the process, I found myself with a price upon my head.” A hint of a smile lifted his lips. “Which I believe you are familiar with.”

Heat crept into her cheeks. “Can we just never discuss that again?”

“Nina, without that price, you would not be here now. While I’d rather that not be the reason, it is, and for that, I cannot be entirely ungrateful for it.” He caught her free hand in his and squeezed both gently. “I had no idea at the time, how my life would change when I made my way up here, as determined to end that filth as he was to end me.”

“What happened up here? I was in Dale when the Battle of the Five Armies took place and spent my time battling those who marched through there. All we knew was a great battle had been fought and you had been mortally wounded, or so we thought.”

“So I thought as well. But, Thranduíl had been here, and with him, it seemed half of Mirkwood followed. Elven magic is a wonderful thing when one is mortally wounded.”

“I’ve heard that, but have never seen it myself.”

“Nor had I, until that battle. But, without it, I am not here now and while recovery was long and slow and painful, I did recover and that is the important thing.” He drew in a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he turned to gaze up at the fortress. “Come. There’s more I wish to show you.”

“You don’t have to, you know. I can’t imagine this place holds good memories.”

“You’re not wrong in that the memories are not pleasant ones, but I think it’s something I need to do as much as I need to share it."

“You don’t have to, you know.”

“I know. And I’m fine, mesmel, honest.”

He might claim to be fine, but his face grew paler, which suggested he was anything but fine with it. Still, she did not wish this to devolve into a fight, and so she kept that to herself as they began walking once more. The stone staircase’s condition worsened as they climbed up it, steps missing huge chunks, crumbling into dust along their edges and sides. The air up there was colder, the wind a bit sharper, and the steps themselves had layers of frost in some spots. The chill bit into Nina, who eased her hand from Thorin’s to wrap her arms about herself. “I didn't know it would be so cold,” she murmured. “I would have worn my heavier wrap. There is nothing springlike about this place at all.”

Without hesitation, Thorin swept his own cloak from his shoulders to drape about hers. “I should have warned you. For that, I apologize.”

Hints of earth and leather and soft musk rose from the cloak to tease her nose as the cloak settled gently about her. “Are you not cold?”

“I’m not, actually. Remember, dwarves are bred for the cold. I’m fine.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.” He caught her hand in his once more, linking their fingers, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “And we’re almost there.”

There was where the river widened, flowing behind Ravenhill, where it ended in a high waterfall. It was like being at the edge of the world, and Nina wondered if going over that falls would lead to toppling from Middle Earth itself.

It was so tranquil now, so peaceful, that if she hadn’t known firsthand a battle had taken place anywhere around Erebor, she never would have believed it.

But when she looked more closely, the evidence showed itself in the scarred earth all around—craters from war machines, armor and weapons left behind either because their owner retreated or died, broken arrow shafts, broken blades—all served as reminders of what had happened up here.

“Here is where the battle took place,” Thorin murmured, releasing her hand as he moved closer to the water. “The river was frozen over. Or it was until Azog split it with his flail. Have you ever done battle on an ice floe?”

He said this over his shoulder, as she remained where she was, watching him as he moved closer to the water. His shoulders were stiff, his entire body suggested he wasn't at all comfortable with being there.

So why had he brought her there?

“No, I can’t say I have. We were in Dale when the orc army arrived and you saw what damage it did. They turned trolls into war machines in some of the cruelest ways I’ve ever seen, and I’d never even seen a troll until that point.” She turned to the east, where she could make out Dale just beyond the purple peak of the Lonely Mountain. The city had come so far from that day as well, but as she stared, she could hear the battle sounds that erupted when the orcs set upon them. “They rampaged through the city, as if we weren’t already on our knees to begin with, slaughtering everyone and everything in their paths.”

“I can only imagine.”

“Thranduíl and his army were there as well, but there were just too many orcs. I didn't know elves could die until that day.”

Thorin nodded slowly. “They paid a heavy price as well. We all did.”

“And for what?” She shrugged, falling into step alongside him once more. “I never even knew why the war was being fought. I’d never seen an orc before your company passed through, although I’d heard tell of them over the years.”

He turned toward her. “Like you, they pursed me.”

“You were very popular.”

That earned her a wry laugh and he caught her hand in his, giving it a squeeze. “I’d rather not be so popular, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Well, they gave me my first taste of battle, so to speak. One fell through the roof of our house and I brained him with a skillet.”

“He deserved it.”

“You’ll get no argument from me on that.”

His fingers tightened about hers again, but now he turned back to the river, its surface sparkling like the gemstones deep within Erebor under the brilliant sunlight.

“I was so tired of all of it at that point,” he murmured, only barely audible over the rush of water. “We’d been from the Shire, battled trolls before reaching Rivendell, chased by orcs while trying to get to Rivendell, fought with legions of goblins, only to get lost in Mirkwood and imprisoned by the wood elves, before we reached Esgaroth.”

She joined him on the riverbank, slipping her arm through his. “You had to be exhausted by then.”

“We were. Beyond exhausted, even.” He smiled down at her. “And you know what happened after that—we passed through Esgaroth and brought orcs in our wake.”

“I’m very well acquainted with that, but not with what happened here. All we knew was that the army marched your way.”

“I was such a coward,” he replied softly, shaking his head as the breeze picked up to lift his hair away from his face. “Dragon sickness, you know. It caught me and refused to let go of me. My kin had come down from the Iron Hills, only for me to hide in my fortress and refuse to honor my word.”

She’d known this. Everyone in Dale had known, for Thranduíl and Bard had confronted Thorin at Erebor, demanded he honor his word and his promise, only to have him refuse. That was when she’d decided he had to pay for what he’d done to her family, to her friends, to her village.

“I told you about it, remember?”

“I do, yes.”

“Well, I came out of it and decided not only was I not going to go back on my word, but I was going to rid the world of that filth and be done with all of it. I’d betrayed my people, my kin, and those I’d promised and I had a lot to atone for. That was how I’d begin. So, I took my nephews, and Dwalin and went to confront Azog and his son and put an end to their pursuit for once and for all. And here is where that happened.”

“The river was frozen over, but it didn't remain that way. And,” he peered down at her, “have you ever done battle on ice?”

“I can’t say I have, no.”

He lifted his head to turn his gaze back to the water. “The ice shifts constantly beneath your feet once it’s broken up. And I had to use that to my advantage even as it wore me down.”

“But you did.”

He nodded slowly. “I did, but that was because I had decided to give Azog what he wanted. I’d thought he’d already slaughtered Fíli. I didn't know Kíli had even been wounded, never mind as seriously as he had, and I thought that if Kíli lived, that would be enough. It would have to be enough. I owed far too many people far too great a debt.”

“What did you do?”

Thorin eased free from her grasp. “I let him run me through.”

Her belly kinked sharply. “The scars on your stomach?”

He nodded. “It gave me the time I’d need to throw him off and return the favor, which I did, and sent him to his maker. And until now, I’ve avoided coming here. In fact, I’ve tried not to think about what happened here if at all possible, for doing so only makes the nightmares worse.”

“Nightmares?”

He nodded. “What happened here haunts my sleep from time to time, although,” he offered up a hint of a smile, “they tend to leave me in peace when you are asleep beside me.”

“It’s nice to know I’m good for something.”

His hint of a smile becomes a full blown one as he caught her face in his hands. “It goes far beyond sleeping peacefully, you know. And I suppose that I actually owe that filth thanks, for without him and his bounty, you are not standing here now.”

Her cheeks grew hot. “Thorin, you should only know how I regret ever approaching him about that bounty.”

“You shouldn’t,” he told her softly, his thumbs moving lightly along her cheekbones, “for I am thankful you did. I love you, Nina. And I would not change how it’s come to that for anything.”

Her throat tightened at the soft emotion in his deep voice, at the soft emotion swirling in his blue eyes. “Thorin—”

“And that is why I wanted to bring you here,” he interrupted gently, his hands falling away from her face as he took a step back. “Remember when you asked me about the rune, the one from my father?”

“I do, of course. It was only last evening, after all.”

“Well, I was supposed have this last evening, but Balin took a bit longer than anticipated.” As he spoke, he drew a small teak box to press into her grasp.

The box was heavier than it looked. “Thorin?”

“Open it, mesmel.”

Her heart sped up as she lifted the lid, which opened without a sound, its hinge perfectly oiled, and as her gaze fell upon the small silver and emerald cube nestled on a bed of rich moss green velvet. “Thorin?”

He smiled. “I know your customs are not ours and mine are not yours, but when a dwarf proposes marriage, he does so by braiding an ornament into his intended’s hair to let everyone else know she is taken. And so, I brought you here, Nina, to ask if you would accept my proposal and allow me to braid this into your hair.”

She swallowed hard, her eyes misting over as she nodded slowly. “I will, yes…”

He smiled as he carefully plucked the cube from the box. It was delicate-looking and exquisite, silver melding with emerald, and inscribed with lettering she couldn’t read, but knew was khuzdul. “I wanted something that matched your eyes,” he said softly, “and found this emerald in the absolute sea of treasure still in Erebor. But, if you don't like it, we can wade out into it and find something else.”

“Bite your tongue, Thorin. This is beautiful and perfect and I love it.” She looked up to meet his gaze. “What does it say?”

“Amrâlimê on one side and nalish on the other. They mean my love and forever. Now,” he traced his fingers along her hair just behind her left ear, “where should I braid this?”

“Is there a specific spot you’re supposed to braid?”

“No. It’s where you wish it to be.”

“Then right there is fine.”

His eyes sparkled like the surface of the river. “Have patience with me, mesmel,” he murmured as he separated the lock in question and began slowly braiding her hair, “for I have never done this before.”

“Really?”

“Really.” His fingers moved with slow precision, the plait in their wake smooth and straight, and when he wove the rune into it, she barely felt the gentle tug on her hair, barely felt the added weight when he stepped back.

She caught the sleek plait in her hand, cradling the rune woven three-quarters of the way into the braid. The sunlight glinted off the silver, threw flashes of light this way and that as she turned it over. “It’s beautiful, Thorin.”

He leaned in to sweep her lips with a gentle kiss, and as he drew back, he whispered, “I’d rather this place hold a good memory instead of the terrible ones.”

A soft laugh bubbled to her lips, her neck bowing when he brushed his lips along the front of it. “Glad I could help?”

A low laugh danced along her skin, his lips warm and soft and slowly moving down into the hollow of her throat. His hands slipped beneath the hem of her tunic, skimming lightly along the curves of her waist, up toward her breasts.

As his thumbs swept along the outer curves, Nina pulled back. “Here? In the open?”

Thorin drew back, his eyes smoky sapphire. “No one ever comes here, mesmel, and this would make for the sweetest memory I could have of this forsaken place.”

Nina smiled, heat flaring through her as he swept her tunic over her head and let it fall to the grass behind her. Her teasing response died on her lips, her hands tightening against his back, pulling him toward her. It was a small sacrifice to make.

With the breeze having died down, near the river was no where near as cold as it had been earlier, and the sun’s rays warmed over Nina’s skin as she curled around Thorin, her right leg thrown over his, her arm about his waist, her head resting against his chest. They lay atop her cloak, covered snugly by his and the birds singing softly in the treetops along the far bank, along with the water’s soft rush, were white noise that added to her contented drowsiness. She cared not if anyone happened upon them, as nothing could possibly disturb the peacefulness of lying there entwined with him.

Thorin’s fingers swept lightly along her hair, his heartbeat slowing beneath her ear as he murmured, “Maralmizi, mesmel.”

She smiled, her fingertips sweeping lightly through the soft hair layered across his warm skin. “Maralmizu,” she whispered back. She continued her perusal of him, letting her fingers brush lower still, along his hip.

Back up.

A low laugh rumbled through him. “We should be heading back.”

“Must we? I like it here.”

“As do I, for the first time in a long time. But,” his fingers went still, “I should like to share our news. And it will grow far too cold to be comfortable before much longer, as spring seems to forget at times that it’s arrived.”

She pulled away to sit up. “People will wonder, you know. And if someone should find out the truth about me… wouldn’t that be disastrous?”

Grass rustled softly and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth as Thorin snaked an arm about her waist and his lips brushed over her right shoulder blade. “We will cross that bridge when we reach it,” he murmured before the tip of his tongue brushed her skin to send a shiver along her spine.

She fought off a shiver, the sensations he sent rippling through her heady and sweet, and she let her head loll back against him when he kissed along her shoulder. Her eyelids grew heavy, her breath harder to catch with each successive caress. He trailed those teasing kisses along her shoulder, along the curve of her neck, easing her down into the grass once more as his lips met hers.

Nina eased her arms about his neck, her lips parting to allow his tongue to tease hers, her legs parting to allow him to settle between her thighs. The sunlight warmed their skin, the light breeze danced in its wake, and she didn't care one bit if anyone happened upon them now, didn't care if anyone ever found out the truth about her past, about how she came to meet Thorin. None of it mattered when he now moved down along her throat, down into the valley between her breasts.

His beard scrape sensually against her skin, his lips gentle as they closed about her left nipple to draw into the wet heat of his mouth, Her back bowed at the fire ribboning through her, her hips rocking up to meet him, her inhale quick and sharp as he slid into the dampness of her arousal. The silken glide sent tingles rushing through her, made the gentle ache of desire stronger.

“I love you,” he whispered, lifting his head to regard her with blazing sapphire eyes that held more than a hint of mischief when he flicked the tip of his tongue against the tight bead of her nipple.

“I love you—oh!” She couldn't hold back her gasp as his fingers slid along her inner thigh and he eased one inside her. She tightened about him, her body humming with each teasing stroke, each delicious swirl.

Her eyes were so heavy lidded, but she forced them to remain open, to hold his smoldering gaze as he moved lower now, spreading teasing kisses along her belly. Down over her hip.

His finger slid free and she sank her hands into his hair as his mouth closed over her, his tongue slipping into the delicious ache between her thighs where his fingers had been only moments ago.

Fire erupted, wound and twisted through her as he teased her, as he swept his tongue along her aching flesh, swirled it about the bead nestled within. Her hips moved of their own, meeting him, her body trembling as he brought her to the edge of sweet madness and held her there, relief so close and yet so far from her.

Her finger twisted in his hair, the knots deep within her core so tight and fragile, she knew they’d shatter at any moment. Heat swept through her, tingling and powerful and threatening to drive her completely insane if he didn't shatter her already.

Then he did.

“Thorin!” Her cry rang out loudly enough to send the birds skyward in a flutter of wings and song as those knots burst and wickedly sweet fire poured into her entire body. She throbbed around him, hips snapping forward to grind against him to increase her pleasure, to draw it out until her mind went blank and white lights danced before her eyes.

Everything inside her turned over, and when he drew away and a moment later, breached her to thrust hard, she melted around him.

His thrusts came swift and powerful and unrelenting, the sensations almost more than she could bear as he quickly brought her back to the summit, leaving her clinging to him, breathless and pleading for him to shatter her again.

He obliged, his low moan rolling across the meadow, across the river, as he shuddered, arched hard, and came with her, each feeding the other, pleasure feasting on pleasure to surge through them at the same time.

Peace reigned then, as Thorin sank gently against her, his heart thundering, the reverberations thrumming through her as well. His breath came in hot blasts against her neck, his voice husky as he whispered, “Amrâlimê…”

She smiled, letting her eyes close for a moment as she tried to catch her breath as well. “Thorin…”

“I care not what anyone thinks about how we met,” he whispered after a few minutes, lifting his head to smile down at her. “Because it no longer matters.”

“Perhaps not to you, but—”

He cut her off with a slow, deep kiss that had her toes curling and her blood warming again. And for the moment, it didn't matter. Hopefully it never would, but Nina had the feeling her hope was misplaced.

#Richard Armitage #AU #The Hobbit #Thorin Fic #Thorin Oakenshield #Is it hot in here?#Hobbit Fic #Romance #Hobbit Fanfic #Thorin x OC #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction

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creativemedianews · 6 months ago

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#UK News #Family responds #quitting search #TikTok star

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redslilstories · 2 years ago

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Am I your girlfriend?

Author: lilyme (aka. redslilstories aka. me ;))

Summary: Set sometime in New York. A cozy night between two old loves. Callie ponders something. Does trouble ensue?

Pairing: Callie/Arizona

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story, nor do I own any rights to the television show "Grey's Anatomy". They were created by Shonda Rhimes and belong to her and the ABC network. No copyright infringement intended! All mistakes are mine.

Merry Christmas, guys!

“Oh! Oh, right there! That's it... Ohh, God...” she moaned, as her body writhed on the living room couch. Her senses fully enraptured in the touches of strong, skilled hands.

It was a feeling she had long forgotten; and now she was growing dangerously addicted to it again.

“Shush, sweetie,” her companion admonished with a low chuckle. “You're gonna wake Sofia. Who knows what she'll think we're doing here”.

What they were doing was nothing spectacular, really. Just Callie massaging Arizona's foot after a long day at work.

A day that among other things had her standing at an operating table for ten hours straight.

It had put some strain on her today. Sometimes she found her foot hurting more than her residual limb. She wouldn't say there was an advantage to only having one foot. There couldn't ever possibly be. But she couldn't help but acknowledge that occasionally the superb prosthetic she wore and which was being well-maintained by Callie worked better than her own body.

“That girl sleeps like a rock. Just like her mother!” the blonde protested playfully, pointing out the adorable similarity the 12-year old shared with her birth mom. Nothing in the world could rouse those two once they were asleep. Which on the negative side of course bore the problem of getting them out of bed on a school or work day. “And can you blame me?” she inquired about her inability to stay quiet just now. “Your hands are magical”. Truthfully so, as she could feel her muscles relax significantly under Callie's expert touches.

The brunette chuckled at the compliment. “Admit you missed them,” she said knowingly, and put some extra effort into her ministrations.

“Not gonna lie,” Arizona sighed in agreement.

Seven years she had been without them. Seven years without Callie's divine hands. Without having Callie this near. Without being where she knew she belonged.

Of course she had missed this. Had missed her! And now that they were back together, sharing all these absolutely mundane moments of life with Callie again... it was heaven.

And Callie could only agree.

They both had been with other people through the years. Had loved other people. And even lived with other people for some time.

But nothing, no relationship had ever felt as right as this.

And she was so overwhelmed to be back with Arizona. So grateful for this new chance and their courage to actually let it happen.

She wanted to climb the highest mountain and shout out to the the entire world that Arizona Robbins was hers once again.

That she was once again her...

Huh...

“I'm wondering something,” she announced as the thought grew in her head.

“What?” Arizona encouraged and opened her eyes to look at the other woman. The fascination of watching Callie in though had never lessened. She often felt herself amused and aroused at the same time at the intense look Callie had when mulling things over, and the tiny crease her eyebrows formed at that.

The intense look with the creased eyebrows turned towards her “What... What are we exactly? The two of us?” the brunette spoke in all seriousness. What were they to each other, or to other people, in their new relationship?

And just like that Arizona's amusement faded. Callie's deep thinking sometimes conjured up... Where had that question just come from?

“We're... we're a couple. We're in a relationship,” Arizona frowned and leaned up on her elbows to look up at the woman, who not only currently held her foot, but also constantly her heart in her hands.

They were not yet living together again. Though they spent most nights together at Callie's place. Spending everyday life together and all these wonderful moments little that you could only have with that special someone.

The special someone that Callie truly was for her, despite everything they had to go through long years ago.

And of course spending this new stage of their lives with the person that was most special to both of them – Sofia. Their daughter had taken this development like the most normal thing in the world. Like it had been clear to her that this would happen again one day. That her parents would be together again one day.

And as clear as things were to Sofia and herself, Arizona thought they were clear to Callie too...

That the state of their relationship was nothing to question.

“No. I mean, yes! I...,” Callie shook her head at the confusion she was causing. That had come out way more serious and insecure than she had intended. “Of course we are,” she assured, stroking Arizona's shin in reassurance. “I just meant, what are we to each other? Like... am I your 'girlfriend'?” she stressed the word.

“Oh,” Arizona raised her eyebrows, finally the true reason behind Callie's question dawning on her.

True, they were many years older now than when they had first started dating. So maybe Callie didn't want to be referred to as her 'girlfriend' anymore.

“Well, you wanna be my middle-aged lady friend?” Arizona joked in mischief.

“Okay, that was enough foot rub for you,” Callie declared mock-offended, and dropped the extremity in question unceremoniously into her own lap.

“Hey, I'm sorry,” the blonde quickly apologized, sitting herself up fully, while Callie cleaned her foot as well as her own hands from remnants of massage oil. Arizona gained a bit of relief from the brunette's exaggerated pout. Because it showed her that she was not really miffed. Or if so, at least only a tiny bit. “I personally like calling you my girlfriend,” she argued.

Of course considering they had been married already, referring to each other as 'girlfriends' once more might at first seem strange. However, right now it was what they were, as far as conventional dating terminology was concerned.

“I could call you my partner, but that sounds like we're running a business together”, she grimaced, and Callie agreed. “But if you like it better, I'll gladly refer to you as my Care Bear, my Cuddle Monkey?” she tried and relaxed all the more when Callie smiled at this.

“Cuddle Monkey, huh?” Callie wondered, looking into Arizona's twinkling eyes.

“If that's what you like,” Arizona repeated.

“Okay, then you are... my Baby Blue Eyes,... my Sweet Cheeks,” she smirked, the back of her left hand moving up to track just those features of Arizona's pretty face. “My... Honey Buns?” Callie went on, knowing they were steering away from the intention of her original question, but this was fun.

“Oooh!” Arizona grinned at the implications of the last one. “Wait, wait, I know... my Kitty Kat,” Arizona tried terms herself, while busy grinning at the their affectionate and dorky attempts. “My Fluff Muffin...”

Callie guffawed at the last one. “Oh, my God,” slapping Arizona's leg affectionately.

At this the blonde couldn't resist and leaned in to kiss the amused cheek tenderly.

“Please don't call me 'Fluff Muffin' in public,” Callie lived out the rest of her chuckles and rested her head against Arizona's.

That was when the blonde remembered that they were looking for a term to use with other people.

“Well, how about 'My woman' for that purpose?” Arizona suggested and looked at the brunette expectantly.

“'My woman',” Callie let the word roll off her own tongue. While some people might perceive it as offensive using this to refer to your significant other, she'd actually prefer it over 'girlfriend'. May it be because it almost came close to another special term.

“What?” Arizona wondered intrigued, seeing that little flicker on Callie's face.

And Callie startled at the blonde's perception, having hoped Arizona wouldn't notice.

But then again they had known each other for over ten years. So, Arizona could read her like a book. “I...,” she began, almost not bringing herself to form the words. But Arizona's warm eyes and gentle dimples made her proceed with what was only the truth. “I always thought 'my wife' sounded beautiful”.

There.

There it was.

That fleeting thought that had crossed her mind for a second, maybe two.

It was a natural thing, considering what her and Arizona had been before.

But was it something they should ever be again?

Considering everything the thought of them as a couple alone should make them run.

And apparently Arizona had exactly that thought as she moved away from her, and looked about to fall off the couch in attempt to do so.

“Wait, d-don't go,“ Callie blurted, trying to stop her from running. Fearing she had just thrown everything they had rebuilt in the last years to the wolves.

“Not going,” Arizona reassured, as her hand reached an item on the floor. “I just feel like I want to wear some pants for this”. She pulled the piece on without putting her prosthetic on, indicating that she really was not planning on leaving.

“Okay,” the blonde exhaled deeply as she sat back up and faced Callie with a gentle and sincere look, and spoke softly, “Do you... Do you mean it?”

Callie gulped, as she pondered the question and how to reply.

As she wondered what she wanted her own answer to be.

As she wondered what Arizona might want her answer to be.

Did... was this something that Arizona wanted to be to her? Her face was so unreadable to her right now.

God, what had she just steered them into?

“I... do you want me to mean it?” she stalled.

“I... I'm,” Arizona stammered, most apparently unsure what to reply either. “Do you want me to want you to mean it?” she retorted. And despite the tension they both felt right now, the prospect of this game of avoiding an actual answer never ending made them both laugh wholeheartedly.

Callie slapped her hand onto Arizona's thigh and used the other to wipe her tears of laughter from her eyes.

And Arizona sat and watched her through her own joyful tears.

Finally the blonde clasped the hand on her thigh with both of hers. “Listen, Calliope,” she said lovingly, steering the conversation back to the elephant that had stumbled into the room. “I... I loved being your wife. I loved our marriage. The pride of being able to introduce you, this amazing woman, as my wife to other people. And...,” she sighed, “I hated how it all ended. That we hurt each other so much. That we weren't able to look at each other without disdain. And that was one of the most awful experiences in my life”.

She saw how Callie let her head sink and quickly continued.

“But I love the idea of us. Of experiencing all these moments with you, no matter how important or small. And I want us to have so many more, years, decades, heck, centuries together, alright?” she reassured.

“Yeah,” Callie smiled softly. She herself wanted nothing more than to grown old and wrinkly with Arizona. Cherish all the moments that could be ahead of them.

And maybe they should leave it at that.

Maybe they should do without labels and just focus on honoring what they had.

Hopefully decades of joy and love ahead of them.

Just when she had almost ended that topic for herself, Arizona surprised her, as she continued, “But I'm not saying no, you know”.

“What?” the brunette raised her eyebrows, not sure if she had understood correctly.

“I mean, not now. Because I think it's too early. ” she argued and Callie nodded in agreement. “But maybe in a year or two, we could talk about it again,” she promised. “Because it's not a horrible thought, per se. It's a thought that makes me grin with anticipation,” she confessed and did just that. “I just think we should give it time... Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect,” Callie signed deeply in contentment. Her fears of having ruined their new start by one scarily beautiful thought turning into delightful excitement.

“Besides for now...,” Arizona added with a look that soon made Callie excited for something else, “I like being your 'girlfriend'... or being your 'woman'...or, heck, Honey Buns. It's pretty, uh, it's pretty hot,” she grinned, as she casually climbed into Callie's lap.

“It's definitely hot,” the brunette agreed, as her hands instantly sought out the blonde's honey buns. “Come here,” she leaned up, desperate to taste some of that hotness. That fire and sass that had always been there with Arizona more than with anyone else she's been with.

And wife-y Arizona would never lose any of that. She knew from experience.

There were stories from their marriage. Stories you'd never believe if you only knew Arizona casually. Naughty stories that made her horny just thinking back on them.

Stories she would never let anyone else know, but was looking forward to fill an entire imagined book series with.

“What's that grin about?” Arizona asked challengingly, looking down into Callie's amused face.

“Think we can agree that you didn't really need those pants?” the brunette wondered, nestling at the waistband, ready to start writing.

The blonde chuckled at the welcome implications before leaning down and kissing her cheeky Fluff Muffin. “Play your cards right”.

END

#calzona fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #calzona fluff #Calzona #Team Calzona #callie torres #arizona robbins #calzona in new york #new york

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cali-holland · 4 years ago

Text

Under the Stars- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Prompt: When you invite Tom and Harrison to go to a cabin in the woods with your old college friends, Tom devises a plan to finally confess his feelings for you. Little does he know, the cabin belongs to your ex-boyfriend, and he’s also seeking your attention this week.

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: slow burn (ish), swearing, sexual themes (jokes/references), the reader kinda gets sexually harassed (nothing actually happens), fist fight + some blood, tom being a simp

A/N: this was a nine month process, so i hope you enjoy :) also thank you to @duskholland for being so supportive and reading through this fic and editing it. love you hannah! + Also reposting this because the tags didn’t work the first time :/ and tag list will be in a reblog!

Masterlist Tom Holland Masterlist

*Moodboard is mine, pics used are not *

~~~

When you walked into Tom and Harrison’s house, you weren’t expecting to hear odd grunts coming from the living room. You’d heard many strange noises made in that house— a good amount of their sources were still unknown, but you’d never heard such aggressive grunts. For a moment, you considered slowly backing out of the house and knocking on the door. It would be easy to pretend like you didn’t have a key so you didn’t have to walk in on anyone doing anything gross in the other room.

But then Harrison walked into the entryway, smiling at you as a greeting, “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey,” You replied, closing the front door hesitantly behind you. You pointed towards the living room, “Do I wanna know what’s going on in there?”

Before he could reply, there was a loud bang from the living room, followed by a string of curses. Forgetting all worries of what may or may not have been the cause of the noises, you hurried into the other room with Harrison trailing behind you.

Tom laid on the floor, groaning in pain as he clutched his foot. Tessa, who had been checking up on her owner, popped up happily when she saw you, rushing over to greet you at your feet. Tom looked up at you and Harrison in the door, forcing out his best smile. You stared at the large tent that was currently taking up most of the space in the living room, questioningly.

“Why do you have a tent set up?” You asked. Tom hopped up off the floor, standing beside the tent.

“Well, our camping trip is this weekend, so I thought I’d make sure it’s still durable.” Tom said proudly. He put a hand against the tent in an attempt to be smooth, but the tent came collapsing down, making Tessa bolt behind you from the sudden loud noise.

“And he wanted to make sure he could actually set up a tent, which clearly he can’t,” Harrison stated, and Tom glared at him in response.

“Were you going to tell him?” You laughed, turning to the blond beside you.

“And miss the opportunity to see him struggle setting up a tent for forty minutes? No, I didn’t tell him.” He smirked, only making Tom more frustrated and embarrassed.

“Tom, it’s a cabin. You don’t need a tent unless you don’t want to stay with everyone else.” You explained. “I just said camping because it’s easier to call it that.”

“Fuck you, mate.” He grumbled to Harrison, flipping him off before starting to put away the mess of a tent. You stepped in to help him, and Harrison just laughed to himself before leaving.

“I really thought you would’ve known. Did you really think I’d invite you and Harrison to spend several days in the woods with me and my college friends in tents?” You joked, “Besides, I didn’t think you’d come if it was actual camping.”

Tom paused his movements, but you continued to undo the poles, taking no notice of his action, “Why wouldn’t I go if it was actual camping?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, looking at him with your usual charming smile, “You’re not the outdoorsy, camping type. You don’t exactly go out and rough it in the woods on the weekend, like Will or Tyler; you play golf with Harrison and your dad.”

While your words were well-intended and teasing, Tom couldn’t help but take them to heart. He took everything you said to heart.

It was hard for him to be so helplessly in love with you, his best friend (besides Harrison) from BRIT school, for the past few years while you were completely blind to it. Normally, he’d do little things to impress you because he still wasn’t sure if he wanted you to know about his feelings— if you knew, there was a chance you’d reject him, and Tom wouldn’t know what to do with himself if that happened. Recently though, he’s started to feel like his heart was going to explode if he didn’t tell you soon, but that didn’t mean he knew how to tell you.

So when you asked if he wanted to go on a camping trip with you, of course he said yes right away. His mind told him that, no, he really wasn’t the outdoorsy, “roughing it” kind of guy, but his heart told him it was a chance with you. He was a sap and thought that maybe he’d pluck up the courage to tell you how he felt under a moonlit campsite, maybe even the two of you could share a tent, maybe he could kiss you in the lake— god, did he want to kiss you.

That had all come crashing down when he’d realized it wasn’t a romantic camping getaway. You’d invited Harrison and a few college friends, friends that neither Tom nor Harrison had ever met. And there was one friend in particular who Tom never wanted to meet— Will, your ex-boyfriend. You two ended things mutually, but Tom couldn’t stop himself from feeling like he needed to compete against Will, especially when he discovered it was Will whose family owned the land you’d be camping on; Will who took you on hikes all around your college town; Will who taught you how to fish and how to kayak with the lakes nearby; Will who one time got bitten by a rattlesnake and sucked out the venom himself; Will who could climb any mountain and come back unscathed. Will was an outdoorsy “roughing it” badass fucker that Tom despised.

And now, you had just furthered proved that Tom was a delicate flower compared to the lumberjack prick that was Will. He didn’t care about being compared to Will’s best friend, Tyler, who (from what you’d told Tom) was in a serious relationship with your other friend, Jane. Besides Jane, the other person accompanying you all to the cabin was Rose, your best friend and Will’s sister. Needless to say, Tom was very grateful that Harrison was coming along too— he didn’t think he could handle a Will-centered week alone.

“We can just leave this for now. I know I promised you Nando’s before we leave.” Tom said, getting up from his spot on the floor.

“Are you sure? We can just get it on the way to the airport.” You said, looking at the tent mess before you.

“Come on, it’ll be fine.” He held a hand out to you and you took it, so that he could pull you up. Before you two could make it out the door, Harrison arrived downstairs with a loaded hiking backpack in hand.

“I know you’re not trying to sneak to Nando’s without me.” He said, and Tom glared at him from behind your back. Harrison was very well aware of Tom’s feelings for you— everyone was except for you, and he took every chance he could get at being a little shit about it, which included ruining quality time for Tom to spend with you.

The three of you left to grab your last meal in the UK before heading back to their house. Tom finished putting away the tent, and Harrison loaded up Harry’s car with your bags as well as his and Tom’s. Harry (through bribery from Tom) drove you all to the airport for the first step in your camping trip.

Since you went to school in the US, all of your friends would be meeting you across the pond. Will’s family cabin was located in Maine, so the flight wasn’t too bad for the three of you— though Tom wished it was longer so he could devise a more accurate plan to impress you this weekend. He had to prove that he could be the outdoorsy badass guy you wanted. He had to outcompete Will.

“Why would you have to outcompete him?” Harrison asked Tom after hearing his dilemma. Fortunately, you were getting the rental car for the three of you to make it to the cabin.

“Because it’s clearly a competition.” Tom stated, nervously fidgeting with his fingers as he looked over at you across the way. “She told me I’m not outdoorsy like Will- that makes it a competition and I have to beat him.”

As much as Harrison loved to see his friend fail at keeping it together around you, something felt wrong about telling him, ‘yeah, it’s totally a competition, so go beat up her lumberjack ex’. Instead, he tried, “I don’t think that’s what Y/N meant. You do golf more than you go camping.”

But Tom took no notice of his advice, “Just watch. I’m going to be the manliest man this weekend.”

“Hey guys,” You smiled, coming up to them, making Tom jump very unmanly-like in the process. “You ready to go?”

The journey to the cabin was a fairly long one. After a couple of hours of driving, you parked the car in one of those reserved parking lots off the side of the road. Tom and Harrison both looked around in confusion, spotting nothing but trees and a gas station.

“Why are we stopped?” Tom asked you as you got out of the car. Tom and Harrison followed you out of the car.

“We gotta hike in.” You replied. “The cabin’s down by the lake, so there’s no actual road to get there. It’s only about a mile and a half hike in. Be ready for lots of hiking. I think tomorrow we’re going to hike 12 miles.”

By the time you three got to the little a-frame cabin, it was already dinner time, which was great because that meant you three could sleep soon. The five hour time difference was already starting to hit. Before you could even step inside the cabin, your best friend met you with a bone-crushing hug.

“You’re here!” Rose smiled, stepping out of the hug after a moment.

“We made it.” You laughed. Your other friend, Jane, stepped up next to hug you. “I missed you two so much.”

“We missed you too.” Jane replied. You caught their eyes trailing over to Tom and Harrison behind you, and you remembered that they hadn’t met before.

“Oh, girls, this is Tom and Harrison; guys, this is Rose and Jane.” You introduced the two parties with a smile. After a polite exchanging of handshakes, you looked at the two girls curiously, “Where are the boys?”

“Will wanted to get in a light swim before dinner.” Rose laughed, and Jane made her way back to the kitchen. “Come on, I’ll show you your rooms.”

Rose gave the three of you a little tour of the cabin. The front door had placed you all in a little entryway room with a simple, wooden staircase taking up most of the room; a fireplace sat beside the stairs with a small loveseat across from it. Besides a rather large bookshelf, it was relatively empty, but elegantly simple nonetheless. There were four doors downstairs, all intricately designed with the same light wood color as the stairs. The first door on the left was explained to be Will’s room, and the second was Tyler and Jane’s. The third stood as the main bathroom, as Rose described it. The fourth door led to Tom and Harrison’s room.

It wasn’t very big— neither of the rooms were according to Rose, but that was the a-frame style of a quaint log cabin. A bunk bed sat on the side of the room with a small wood dresser across from it. There was enough space for the two boys to coexist, and Tom was just grateful he didn’t have to bunk with Will of all people; he was glad he had his best friend with him.

The upstairs of the cabin held the open space of the kitchen and the main living room. With large glass windows covering one of the walls, the living room had a magnificent view of the woods outside, and three couches were set in place to overlook it. Under the couches sat a large bear rug, one which both Tom and Harrison eyed suspiciously at first before Rose laughed it off, reassuring them that it was fake. Behind the couches, the dining room was situated beneath a beautiful antler chandelier and set for eight places, completing the rustic vibe of the cabin. The kitchen, while it was small, seemed to be just as well put together as the rest of the cabin, complete with a breakfast bar. The smell of Jane’s favorite lemon salmon filled the air, making you even more excited for dinner.

Next was your own room, which was just past the kitchen. A queen bed was pushed in a nook with only the foot of the bed accessible. Unlike Tom and Harrison, you and Rose didn’t mind sharing a bed, which is why they got the smallest room downstairs. Right beside your bedroom door was another bathroom.

“You brought stuff for s’mores, right?” You asked Rose as you walked with her, Tom, and Harrison off the cabin’s porch to the nearby shed where they kept all of their hiking and lake gear.

“Yes, absolutely!” She eagerly replied, a happy skip in her step.

“S’mores are a real thing?” Tom questioned in disbelief.

“Of course! You can’t camp without—” You let out a shriek as you felt cold, wet arms wrap around your waist, picking you up and spinning you around. You laughed, immediately knowing it was Will. “Oh my god, Will! Put me down! You’re all wet.”

Will chuckled, setting you back down on the solid ground, “Well, if it gets you wet.”

“Fuck off.” You scoffed, smacking his chest playfully. It was then that you realized he was shirtless— shirtless and dripping wet from the lake and gloriously tan and somehow more built than the last time you saw him. Tyler, on the other hand, was still Tyler; still an attractive young guy, but not attractive to you and that most likely has to do with him dating Jane for as long as you’ve known him.

“Ty!” You smiled, hugging him tightly, not even caring if your clothes got wet and gross anymore. You’d just change later when you could.

Tom straightened up a bit, already feeling uneasy about Will’s presence. Will looked like the lovechild of Zac Efron and Chris Evans, with a hint of Scott Eastwood; he was perfect, there was nothing wrong with him. It made Tom question why you two broke up. Even though Tom knew you’d said it was mutual, he also knew it took a lot for girls to walk away from guys that look like that. Meanwhile, Harrison just bit his lip to keep from commenting on his friend’s ridiculous territorial issues.

“So, you two must be Tom and Harrison.” Will held out a hand to them, smiling politely. Tom took his hand, trying to subtly shake it sternly as if to prove he was better than Will— childish, Tom knew it, but he already hated this guy with his six pack abs and perfectly white smile. Will didn’t back down though, squeezing Tom’s hand equally as hard. Noticing both guys tensing up, you looked between them awkwardly, having never seen either of them put on the tough guy act.

With introductions out of the way, you all trekked back inside the cabin. While Will, Tyler, and even you changed into dry clothes, Rose helped Jane finish dinner, leaving Tom to frustratedly rant to Harrison in their room.

“God, he’s so annoying.” Tom scoffed.

“He said two words to you.” Harrison stated, “Try to play nice. I don’t think Y/N wants you two to keep having a ‘my dick’s bigger’ contest.”

“But mine is and I know it!” He exclaimed, before realizing he didn’t know how thin the walls were- and how odd that implication was, “Whatever. He’s stupid. This trip’s stupid.”

Harrison was too busy laughing to even attempt a response to his friend. Instead, there was a knock on the door, pulling both of them from their conversation. Tom opened the door and immediately softened when he saw you, clad in one of his old sweatshirts that he didn’t even realize you still had. It gave him a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t need to worry that much about Will this week.

“Nice shirt.” Tom commented with a smile.

“Thanks,” You smiled back, “I’ve actually been meaning to give it back to you.”

“What? Why?”

“Is dinner ready?” Harrison asked, cutting off the two of you and reminding you both of his presence. As if on cue, his stomach growled loudly.

“Yes, it is.” You laughed, almost embarrassed from forgetting why you had been at their door in the first place. You tugged on Tom’s hand, pulling him out of the room. Harrison grumbled something dejectedly, but you paid no mind to it. Tom sent his friend an apologetic look, though he made no attempt to make Harrison any less of the unofficial third wheel on the journey upstairs to the dinner table.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Tom how you sat beside Will, even if Tom got the free seat beside you. Harrison slipped into the seat next to him with Rose to his right. The dinner of salmon with potatoes, salad, and bread seemed simple enough, but it was still quite possibly the best fish you’d ever had.

“Did you get a bone?” You asked Tom, seeing him awkwardly moving his mouth like his tongue was fishing out a hard piece of salmon. Blushing from you calling attention to his struggle, he held up a napkin to cover his mouth, trying to spit out the bone without it looking too gross.

“Yeah,” He admitted sheepishly, muffled by the napkin.

“I thought you got them all out.” Jane said, looking at Tyler expectantly.

“Don’t look at me, that was Will’s job.” Tyler laughed as he used his friend as the scapegoat.

“Must’ve missed one.” Will shrugged, before joking, “You’re still welcome that I caught these.”

“You caught this salmon?” You said, “I thought you only did catch and release?”

“I still do, for the most part, but this salmon was too good of an opportunity to pass up.” He explained. Tom was already boiling with embarrassment, and now he had jealousy bubbling over- of course this perfect fish was caught by the perfect outdoor man beside you.

“So, Tom, Harrison, we were talking about going for a run around the lake tomorrow morning. Want to come?” Tyler asked.

“Sure. How far?” Harrison replied, and Tom nodded in agreement.

“The loop’s about five miles.” Will answered.

“Are you going to run with us?” Tom asked you, knowing back home in Kingston you’d sometimes join Harrison on runs. Tom wasn’t the type to just go out for a casual run like his best friend was, but he wasn’t about to back down from this.

“Nah, you two can keep up with the cross country runners.” You joked, “I’d much rather save my energy for the hike.”

Once dinner ended and no one choked on any more fishbones, you all migrated to the couches. Much to Tom’s chagrin, you sat in the middle couch between Will and Rose, while Tom and Harrison sat on the couch opposite a very cuddled up Jane and Tyler. The fireplace in the corner crackled, keeping the room comfortably warm. When Rose suggested you all play charades, the entertainment for the evening was decided, especially considering the cabin had very weak cell-signal and no television.

“What are the teams?” You asked, sitting dead in the middle of everyone with three friends to your left and three to your right.

“Let’s do 3 against 4, so you choose who you wanna be with, Y/N.” Jane suggested as Rose stood up to get a boxed set of charade cards from the game cabinet near the kitchen. You looked between the two sets of friends. You wanted to lean towards Tom, Harrison, and Rose, because the two boys were incredible at charades, and Rose was your go-to partner for Password at least.

“Come on, you know you wanna be with us.” Will teased, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“Just for that, nope.” You laughed and took his arm off you. You stood up from that couch and squeezed in between Tom and the arm. To make room for you and to mock Will, Tom casually put his arm on your shoulder and you made no effort to take it off.

Rose returned with the box of cards and the game began with you and Jane pantomiming first. The words ranged from silly ones like centipede to more inventive ones like lapdance; either way, you all were laughing and enjoying the evening. Tom was highly appreciative of the humor because more than once, you laughed so hard that you fell into him, clutching his knee or completely falling over into his lap. It wasn’t anything out of the usual for him to see you so effortlessly happy, but he enjoyed all the little touches.

“Okay, okay.” You breathed out, doing your best to compose yourself. You stood up from the couch with Tyler so that you two could read the answer and continue the round. Reading over the card, “Catch 22”, you began to think about what you could do to act out the card. As if it wasn’t impossible enough to describe it with words, you had to act it out. But then the lightbulb went off- you had a secret advantage and he was sitting right in front of you, as long as he could figure it out.

“Ready?” Tyler asked you nervously, and you nodded. Tyler started with the usual way of beginning: how many words and what it is. You immediately pointed at Harrison.

“Me?” Harrison spoke in confusion, and you nodded before pointing to your stomach, doing your best to act his death from the series.

“Catch 22?” Tom offered, and Harrison looked at him dumbfounded, still trying to connect how it was him as your main clue.

“Ah, thank god.” You smiled, cheering as he guessed it right. Tyler and the others sighed.

“How the fuck did you get that?” Jane questioned.

“Haz, here, was in the show.” Tom replied, proud of his friend. You were surprised by your college friends’ collective shock, but you were most intrigued by Rose’s reaction.

“Oh my god, I thought you looked familiar.” She said, impressed.

“Wait, you actually saw it?” Harrison asked.

“Yeah, I think I might have cried when you died.” She admitted, brushing a loose hair behind her ear, and that’s when it clicked for you- she was totally into Harrison.

“And you’re an actor too, Tom, right?” Will spoke up, casually taking a drink of his beer. You eyed him skeptically; he knew Tom was an actor. Back when you two were dating, you’d talk about your best friend’s accomplishments, so why was he now asking? Your only answer was it would clearly get a rise out of, at least, you, if not Tom as well.

“Yeah, only been in little indie movies. Nothing anyone’s heard of.” Tom played it off jokingly, causing you to smack him on the arm a little, your hand resting on his bicep.

“My mom loves that movie you did with Ewan McGregor.” Rose commented.

“Ah yeah,” Will laughed, “The one where you’re like 12.”

“I wasn’t 12, but thank you.” Tom replied sarcastically, and you could tell he was biting back a scoff.

“Well, we’ve all seen the Marvel movies so you can brag a little about those.” You teased, making him blush.

“I know I cried when everyone was getting dusted.” Jane stated in a way to poke fun at Rose’s previous words.

“Never saw them.” Will shrugged carelessly.

“Yes, you did.” You corrected him immediately, and you felt Tom tense a little under your touch. While Tom liked that you were being supportive about this, he couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong.

Will acknowledged Tom’s clenched jaw and decided to press it a bit further, “Babe, if you’re talking about Infinity War, then, no, I didn’t pay attention.” He chuckled, “Don’t you remember we were in the middle of something?”

Tom wondered, at first, what he meant exactly. You dropped your hand from Tom’s arm and covered your face in embarrassment, but before you could comment, Rose let out a whine, “Gross, I was right next to you two.”

“Not like you’ve never gotten it on in a movie theater.” Tyler joked.

“Can we please not talk about this?” You groaned, getting up from the couch. “I’m going to bed. I’m tired.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Jane stated as she stood up with a yawn. You closed your door, escaping to the privacy of your room, not wanting to think about how your ex just told everyone about that night- in your defense, you’d already seen the movie before so you weren’t missing anything.

Tyler and Will followed after Jane, leaving Tom, Harrison and Rose as they cleaned up the few cards that were left out. Feeling the awkwardness radiating off of Tom, Rose delicately spoke up, “Will’s just being a dick.”

“It’s fine.” Tom reassured her.

“Did you really cry when I died?” Harrison asked her the question that’d been on his mind since the second she’d made the comment. They started talking about the show, and Tom took that as a sign to leave. He thought for a moment about knocking on your door and checking in on you, but then he realized it might be too uncomfortable for you to talk about. There were times, like tonight with charades, that Tom considered maybe you liked him back, based on all your little touches here and there, but then, with Will’s comments floating around his mind, his thoughts were plagued by the doom of the friendzone. Tom didn’t know if he’d be able to sleep tonight knowing that you and your annoying ex ‘got it on’ in the theater during his own movie- what if he was dying on screen but you were too enraptured in Will to cry like Rose had cried over Harrison dying?

Tom only had a few minutes to himself before Harrison came back into their shared room, asking him, “How’re you feeling about the run tomorrow?”

“It’s going to kill me.” Tom sighed, and Harrison shrugged before climbing into the top bunk.

“Should’ve been running with me.” He laughed, “It’s not even that far.”

“I haven’t run five straight miles since Jake nearly killed me at the gym.” He replied, tidying up his bag.

“Why are you cleaning?” Harrison asked, looking down at his friend. “Are you worried Y/N’s going to come into the room or something?”

“Shove off.” Tom grumbled. Harrison took off his sweaty socks that he’d neglected to remove before getting into his bed and threw them down at his friend. One missed Tom completely, and the other clung to his shoulder. “That’s fucking gross.”

“If you’re cleaning, then clean them up.” He snickered. Tom threw the sock back at his friend, but it missed and weakly fell to the ground. A knock came from the other side of the door, and Tom opened it, smiling when he saw it was you, his absolute favorite person on this godforsaken trip. While you looked rather cute in your casual summer pajamas, he frowned when he saw his sweatshirt in your hands.

“Are you returning it?” He asked, and you laughed.

“It doesn’t smell like you anymore.” You said quietly, hoping Harrison didn’t hear your words. You held it out to Tom, “I figured I can give it back to you for a time, and then steal it once it smells like you again.”

“Wait a second.” Tom took the sweatshirt from you and disappeared into the room, rummaging through his once neat backpack to grab out another sweatshirt. He handed it to you, “Maybe this could suffice for now?”

Smiling, you sniffed it a little before tugging it on, “Thanks. It’s so cold upstairs, I don’t know how I’d sleep without it.”

“You could always bring your own.” Harrison said from the top bunk. Tom turned and chucked the other sweatshirt at him. You rolled your eyes at his words.

“Watch it, Osterfield, or your mattress is going to end up in the middle of the lake with you still sleeping on it.” You playfully threatened.

“I’m quaking with fear.” He laughed, laying down on the bed out of sight.

“Well, I should go.” You told Tom, “Thank you for the sweatshirt. Good night.”

“Good night, Y/N.” He smiled softly at you. As you walked away, he slowly closed the door, pleased with himself and his choice in sweatshirts. He turned to finish getting ready for bed, just in time for Harrison to throw the sweatshirt back at him.

“I will kick you out of this room.” Tom grumbled.

“I’d like to see you try.”

You didn’t sleep well that night. Even with Tom’s sweatshirt, your room was unbearably cold, and it didn’t help that Rose snored. With only a few hours of sleep under your belt, you woke up the next morning to the sun streaming in through the large window behind the bed and Rose already up and out of the room. You padded into the kitchen, making yourself some tea with the rustic teapot that was set out on the counter. Spotting Rose and Jane standing out on the balcony, you made your way outside.

“Good morning.” You said through a yawn, coming to stand beside Rose.

“We were wondering when you were going to wake up.” Jane teased. You looked at your two friends quizzically, taking a sip of your steaming tea.

“You already missed part one of the gun show.” Rose joked, sitting up straighter to look over the edge of the balcony, “They should be back any second.”

“Oh God.” You laughed, remembering the boys and their run this morning.

“I know I’m with Tyler, but damn, Y/N.” She teased, and Rose nudged you playfully. “Here they come.”

Seeing motion through the trees, you looked over at the runners. It was obvious they were racing the last bit of the run, considering how triumphant Harrison looked when he arrived first with Will right on his tail. And then came Tyler, and finally Tom. There was probably only a few seconds between their arrival, but it was still amusing to spy the looks on their faces. They were all shirtless and glistening in a layer of sweat, and they hadn’t noticed the three of you on the balcony at all- not that you were complaining. You’d rather not have them catch you all checking them out so unabashedly.

“Look at that. 24 abs right there.” Jane let out a small sigh. While her comment was for all four boys, her eyes stayed trained on Tyler. Rose, on the other hand, had her eyes on Harrison’s figure, which you noted to tease her about later. But you, you couldn’t help but check out Tom’s bare torso- there was a reason you didn’t watch either Spider-Man movie with him- you always ended up a little too focused on his shirtless scenes.

“Enjoying the show?” Tyler called up to the three of you, a cheeky smirk on his face, as they all made their way up to the cabin. You could’ve sworn you saw Tom blush a little when he met your gaze before Harrison playfully shoved his friend, making Tom lose focus on you and shove him right back.

“Boys.” Rose laughed quietly to you. You bit your lip, nodding in agreement.

“I’m glad I didn’t miss part two.”

The boys made their way into the kitchen, seeking out some water and gatorade as you and the girls went back inside to greet them. The sweet smell of salmon from last night was gone, overthrown by the ever lovely smell of sweaty men.

“It smells like a gym in here.” Rose gagged in disgust.

“I would’ve gone for sweaty ballsack, but yours is much nicer.” Jane laughed.

“Janie would know.” Will teased, clapping Tyler on the shoulder as he drank from his water, making the other choke a little.

“So how was the run?” You asked Tom as he and Harrison came over to you, Tom’s bottle of gatorade almost gone already. The other four got engrossed in their own conversation.

“Just a small workout, nothing too bad.” He replied, brushing it off.

“He was dying.” Harrison stated, making you laugh. “I told him he’s got to run with me more.”

“Well, you won, Haz, so congrats.” You replied.

“How did you know we were racing?” Tom asked. His ears turned pink from thinking that you knew he came in last.

“The four of you act like teenage boys; of course you’re going to make a race out of a casual run.” You teased.

“We should probably go stretch before our muscles tighten up again.” Harrison said, already backing up towards the stairs. Tom made his way to follow him, and you spoke up.

“I’ll come with.” You offered, setting your mug of tea on the counter. You followed them downstairs and out to the patio, feeling like you might as well spend some alone time with your two closest friends.

“You two think you can make it on the hike today?” You teased, already seeing Tom walk a little funny.

“Yeah, yeah, we got this.” He reassured you, sitting down on the solid ground to start stretching his legs. You started to stretch with them, and Harrison looked at you funny for it.

“Why are you stretching?” He asked with a laugh.

“It helps with flexibility.” You shrugged, switching legs as they did, all three of you mirroring the same poses. “How was the lake?”

“It was nice. We weren’t exactly looking at it though.” Tom replied with a chuckle.

“I don’t know, you were going so slow, I thought you were.” Harrison joked and Tom kicked his foot out, hitting Harrison in the leg.

“It’s shit like this that made me believe you were racing.” You laughed.

“I don’t do long distance running. I like focusing on my abs a lot more.” Tom defended himself. You flicked your eyes down to his abs, nodding a little, but Tom was so focused on his stretching that he had missed your small action, whereas Harrison fully caught it. He laughed, sending you a wink, and you flipped him off. Tom caught that exchange though, “Did I miss something?”

“Nope.” You replied quickly, only making Harrison laugh harder, “He’s just being a dumbass. Onto hamstrings.”

The three of you laid down to stretch your hamstrings, and you heard Tom let out a small groan from beside you. “I can’t do this. I fucking hate leg day.”

“Need help?” You offered. Before he could protest, you were already on your feet. He held his leg up as high as he could, and you pressed on his foot to stretch his hamstring even more.

“What if I need help too?” Harrison pouted, even though he was stretching his leg just fine.

“Sorry, Haz, it’s just you and your hand.” You joked, making Tom laugh.

“I see how it is. Ha ha, it’s me and my hand, and Tom and your hand, Y/N.” He sarcastically replied, as you dropped Tom’s leg and he bent his knee for you to lean on his shin. You helped him to deepen the stretch through his leg.

“Someone’s jealous.” Tom said, before grimacing a little.

“Was that too far?” You asked, loosening your hold on his leg, not wanting to overstretch his hamstring.

“A little.” He replied.

“God, Y/N don’t be so rough on him.” Harrison piped in, still having no issue stretching on his own.

“Haz, if you’re going to be a pouty baby about not having a stretching buddy, talk to Rose. She was totally checking you out earlier.” You stated, trying to change the conversation off of Harrison’s unnecessary innuendos. You let go of Tom’s leg and reached for his foot to stretch his other hamstring.

“Wait, really?” He asked, dropping his leg to peer at you with a serious look on his face.

“Yeah, why would I lie to you about that?” You laughed, “Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her read a book, so I think she was lying about Catch 22.”

Flustered, Wide eyed and blushing, Harrison mumbled something about grabbing a shower before bolting off. You exchanged a curious look with Tom, but he followed after his friend.

You made your way inside after them and went to fix yourself another cup of tea. When you saw Will alone in the kitchen, you momentarily considered changing your mind and going to your rook, but it was too late, as he had already seen you.

“Want a cup?” He asked, holding up the coffee pot after he finished pouring himself a cup.

“No thanks.” You replied and made your way to the kettle.

“Enjoy the show earlier? Tyler and I started this new training routine that’s supposed to help with bulking up.” Will said. It took everything in you to not roll your eyes at his words.

“And how’s that working out for you?” You asked, not even trying to hide your disinterest. You still hadn’t forgiven him for his immature comments last night. Plus, the more you saw Will interact with Tom, the more justified you felt with your annoyance.

Will stepped closer to you. Slowly, he took one of your hands in his and pressed it to his abs, and you’d be lying if you said you couldn’t feel every part of his toned stomach. As much as you hated to admit it, you felt like you were falling under his trance again. “There’s more where that came from. Why don’t you come by my room tonight?”

He dropped your hand, and you were pulled out of your foggy state. You stepped away, turning away from him to continue getting yourself some tea. You felt his body envelope yours from behind. His head rested on your shoulder and his hands smoothed over your waist. Pressing a kiss to your cheek, he murmured, “I miss you.”

At his words, something inside of you snapped and you jolted away from his embrace, slapping his hands away. Firmly, you said, “I don’t miss you.”

Will left the room without another word, and you were left to ponder what the hell just happened as you stood alone in the kitchen.

It wasn’t until a few hours later that you all left on the hike, trailing through the towering trees to make your way to a nearby peak. You all stopped a few times for water and some food, and to even just enjoy nature. Between Jane’s ornithology degree, Tyler’s botany background, and Will’s forestry knowledge, identifying the different birds, plants, and trees around you was relatively easy.

“Can you imagine if we studied something environmental too?” Rose joked, nudging you in the shoulder as Jane mindlessly went on about the bird that had flown past nearly ten minutes ago.

“God, it would never end.” You laughed.

“What did you study?” Harrison asked Rose, making you look at Tom and roll your eyes at your friends.

“I’m a nurse.” She replied, and the two got swept into their own conversation.

“You sore yet?” You asked Tom, poking him in the side as you all continued the hike uphill.

“Me? Sore? Never.” He laughed. He shook his head to try to hide the slight hurt from the question. First, you didn’t think he was outdoorsy enough and now you think he can’t handle doing some mileage. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Oh sure.” You smiled at him. Tyler pointed out a specific plant as you all passed it, talking about the intricate properties of the shrub.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more confused about nature.” Tom mumbled to you quietly. Since you two were far enough behind Tyler, Jane, and Will, they couldn’t hear his comment.

“Don’t worry. I have no clue what he’s talking about either.” You reassured him before letting out a small yawn.

“Did you not sleep well last night?” He asked, looking over at you in concern.

“Someone was snoring a bit too loud for me to sleep.” You said, loud enough for Rose to hear. She stopped and spun around to face you, face red in embarrassment.

“It’s a nasal condition! You know how I get when it’s cold!” She defended. As much as she tried to sound angry, she still had a small smile on her face.

“Love you, Rose.” You blew her a kiss, laughing at her reaction. She and Harrison turned back around and continued their conversation about who knows what.

“I think Harrison’s got a nasal condition too.” Tom whispered, making you stifle a laugh to not draw attention back to the two of you.

“Rose doesn’t even snore that loud.” You admitted quietly, “Even with your sweatshirt, I was still too cold to sleep.”

“I can give you another one when we get back. You can double up.” He offered, “But it was pretty cold last night.”

“Thanks. I’ll probably take you up on that.” You smiled softly at him. “You know, I’m really happy you came.”

“I’m happy I came, too. Thanks for inviting me.” He replied, and you nodded in response. Tom paused after a moment, stopping his tracks to look at you with furrowed eyebrows, “Wait, did you not expect me to come?”

You looked at him in confusion, before answering, “I mean I did, but-“

“But I’m not outdoorsy, so you didn’t think I’d actually be here.” Tom grumbled in agitation, beginning to walk again quickly to catch up to the group. You ran up after him.

“Is that what this is about?” You questioned, your voice unintentionally raised, “That I said you weren’t the camping type back home?”

Harrison and Rose turned to look at the two of you, and Tom just bit his tongue to keep from exploding about the sensitive subject. He knew he shouldn’t have asked, but he just felt so inadequate with Will going on and on about trees and shit.

“What is going on with you?” You questioned with a huff of frustration.

“It’s nothing. Let’s just keep going.” Tom stated, shaking his head.

“I’m not going one more step until you tell me what the hell is up.”

“What’s the hold up?” Will called back when he noticed the stop in your hike. Tom went to step forward to continue the journey, but missed his footing on a particularly slick patch of leaves.

A collective, concerned shout came from you and Harrison as Tom hit the ground. He groaned in pain, and Rose came to his side. All frustration at him slipped out of you as worry flooded your system.

“Tom, oh my god- are you okay?” You asked.

“I think I rolled my ankle.” Tom said, cradling his ankle in his lap.

Rose looked at it briefly, no noticeable swelling or bruising yet. “Can you stand on it?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He replied before pushing himself to his feet. He bit back a grimace, standing on his ankle as normal, and you didn’t seem to be the only one to notice it. “Let’s finish the hike, yeah?”

“You’re not hiking on that.” Rose shook her head with a small laugh.

“I don’t want to hold you all back. I can manage it, really.”

“It’s fine. We’ll continue on. Y/N can lead you back.” Jane spoke up, a little smirk playing on her lips.

“I’ll go with.” Harrison offered.

“As the house nurse, I feel obligated to walk back with him.” Rose added, and you caught the blush that touched her cheeks.

And just like that, it was settled. You, Rose, and Harrison would walk back with Tom, who was doing his best not to limp, which everyone saw through. Rose and Harrison made conversation the whole walk back, while you and Tom just stayed awkwardly silent. By the time you all made it back to the house, he still hadn’t spoken to you. You went to put away your hiking gear and found Tom a few minutes later, sitting on the porch as he looked at the forest before him, an ice pack on his elevated ankle to help with potential swelling.

“I meant what I said.” You spoke up quietly as you sat in the chair beside him. When he just continued to look straight ahead and not physically acknowledge your presence, you continued, “I am really happy that you’re here, Tom. I didn’t say that because I didn’t think you’d want to come. The only reason I wouldn’t expect you to come is because you’re always busy. I guess what I really meant was that I’m grateful you were able to make time for me this week, especially because I know the countless other, more fun things you could be doing right now. It really means a lot.”

After another brief silent moment passed between the two of you, he looked over at you with a small frown on his face. “Why would you think I wouldn’t make time for you?”

“Like I said, you’re busy. You do one movie after the other, and I feel like we hardly see each other anymore. It’s,” You trailed off, searching for the right word, “comforting that you’d want to spend your free time with me.”

“You’re my best friend. Of course, I’d want to spend time with you.”

You knew his words were sweet and that he meant every single one of them, but you still felt a small, subtle twist in your gut. Another unnatural silence fell between the two of you until Rose came outside like a true savior.

“We’re planning on making s’mores tonight, are you down?” She asked, a cheery smile on her face.

“I’m offended you’re even asking me that.” You stated, and she rolled her eyes at you. You turned to Tom, smiling, “You’re going to love them. Just don’t burn yourself.”

“Burn myself?” He looked at you as if you were crazy, making you laugh.

“Don’t scare him.” Rose teased, “Besides, my money’s on Harrison burning himself first.”

“I heard that!” He called from inside the cabin through the screen door.

Just as Rose was about to leave to go back inside, Tom spoke up, raising his hand a little, still confused, “How do you burn yourself on s’mores?”

Several hours later, he got his answer.

“Ow, fuck, shit, ow.” Harrison cursed, dropping his burnt marshmallow into the dirt.

“That’s how.” You laughed as Rose clinked her s’more against yours.

“How do you know when it’s ready?” Tom asked, eyeing the marshmallow at the end of his stick. He slowly rotated the stick in his hands just as you had told him to do.

“Golden brown are the best, but they’re tricky to make because you can burn them instantly, which is what Harrison did.” You teased your blond friend beside you before taking a bite of your perfect s’more and turning back to face Tom on your other side. “Burnt ones aren’t bad, they just have a more burnt flavor, obviously.”

“So is it ready yet?” He questioned, but he was looking at you not at his roasting marshmallow.

“No,” You giggled. You finished off your s’more with another bite and scooted closer to him on the log. You placed your hand on top of his on the stick, twisting it so that the marshmallow was a few inches above the flame instead of right by the firewood. “And you just keep rotating it. You can see there’s already a gold hue to it.”

You smiled, looking over at him to find him already gazing at you with a soft smile of his own playing on his lips. The light from the campfire made his brown eyes sparkle with specks of gold.

“It’s burning!” Jane exclaimed, and you quickly retracted the stick and marshmallow, blowing out the fire on the now burned marshmallow.

“Well, it’s golden on one side, but burnt marshmallows are an essential part of the s’mores making business.” You said as you passed the stick back to Tom. You gathered the two parts of a graham cracker as well as some Hershey’s chocolate and set it up for a s’more.

“I think I need help with this part.” Tom admitted with a chuckle.

“So you put the marshmallow here.” You pointed at the graham cracker topped with a piece of chocolate. He moved the stick to put the marshmallow in its proper position, and then you put the other half of the graham cracker on top. Grasping the two graham crackers with the marshmallow in the middle, you finished, “And now pull out.”

“Hah, pull out.” Tyler laughed at the innuendo through a face full of his double stacked s’mores. Tom did as told, his eyes lighting up in excitement when you presented him his very own s’more.

“Ta-da. It’s real rocket science, isn’t it?” You joked, and Harrison elbowed you, still grumpy that he had lost his first marshmallow and burnt his hand trying to catch it.

“Burnt and fallen marshmallows are just casualties of s’more making.” Rose said.

“S’mores have to be the thing I miss most about living here— the U.K. just doesn’t do camping quite as well.” You stated, shaking your head a little in disbelief.

“How could you miss s’mores more than us?” Will asked, a playfulness in his voice, but you could recognize the serious undertones of his words.

“I’d miss s’mores more than I’d miss you.” Rose teased, saving you from having to actually think of a response.

“Hand me a marshmallow. I’m ready to try again for a golden one.” Tom said to you, and you reached over into the marshmallow bag beside you, slipping him the soft treat.

“Good luck.” You encouraged him with a laugh.

Tom’s second attempt ended up burnt as well, and you gladly ate it while he made his third one. By the time it was golden brown and ready to be eaten, Jane, Tyler, and even Will had retired for the night.

“That tastes so much better not burnt to a crisp.” Tom said, impressed by his own marshmallow-roasting skills.

“Camping heaven.” You agreed, finishing off the s’more he’d burned earlier.

Rose stood up with a small sigh, stretching her arms. “I think I might head to bed.”

“Me too.” Harrison stated, getting up after her. Tom looked at him questioningly, and you bit your lip, giving Rose a teasing look. She rolled her eyes at you, smiling to herself as she turned to head towards the cabin.

Noticing how Harrison’s hand caught hers once they were a decent distance from the campfire, you called out to them, “Good night!”

“Night!” They chorused back.

“Haz and Rose seem to have hit it off.” Tom commented once they were inside. Your eyes drifted from the dying fire up to the starry sky overhead.

“Yeah, they really have.” You nodded, caught up focusing on the twinkling lights above you. Quietly, you admitted, “I’ll never get tired of looking at the stars.”

“I bet your neck will.” He joked, making you shake your head.

“They’re just so beautiful.” You mumbled.

“Really beautiful.” You heard Tom murmur under his breath. Your eyes flickered over to him, noticing how he was definitely staring at you and not the stars in the sky. When he turned to face the campfire, your eyes diverted back up to the stars, trying your best to suppress how fast your heart was racing.

“I used to know all of the constellations too. Will and I used to camp a lot, and I’d just study the stars until I fell asleep.” You confessed, attempting to strike up a conversation to keep you from your thoughts. When Tom said nothing in reply, a small sigh escaped your lips, and your eyes trailed back down to Tom beside you. Staring right into the dying campfire, he looked deep in thought.

“What’s on your mind?” You asked him, nudging him a little with your shoulder.

“It’s nothing.” Tom shook his head, but his attempts to play off his thoughts didn’t work on you. After a moment, he spoke up, barely meeting your eyes as he did so, “Did you and Will really— you know— in my movie—“ he trailed off, not wanting to finish his question. He was already apprehensive about the answer, and yet he couldn’t help himself from asking.

“In Infinity War?” You asked, laughing lightly at his question, or lack thereof. Looking up towards the sky again, you replied, “Unless you count the fastest handjob ever, no, we didn’t.”

Tom was silent, making you look back over at him. His shoulders were shaking as he bit his lip, doing his best to stifle his laughter.

“Shut up.” You scoffed, playfully hitting his arm. “It wasn’t like you were dying in the scene or anything. You weren’t even on the screen.”

“I didn’t say anything.” He insisted, before breaking into a fit of laughter, unable to contain it any longer. In that moment, you felt complete tranquility. Tom’s laughter broke through the silence of the atmosphere, making your heart flutter in happiness. His eyes were shut, and you could count every crinkle by his eyes. With the fire illuminating his features just right, he was positively glowing. If you wanted any moment to last forever, it was this one. Tom settled his laughter, “Sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing, but it’s just-” He paused, and his smile faltered momentarily, “It’s a relief.”

“A relief?” You repeated before you could help yourself, and Tom realized his words.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, thinking on his feet of an explanation, “It would’ve been really awkward if I was dying, and you and Will- yeah.” He stopped himself short, and a comfortable silence overcame the two of you.

“How’s your ankle feeling?” You asked, not wanting the conversation to end. If it ended, then that meant the night was over and your precious alone time with Tom was over.

“It’s fine, now. Honestly, it didn’t hurt that much.” He replied with a bit of a nod. You watched as he sucked in a tight breath, “I’m sorry about what happened earlier on the hike. I got frustrated and a little jealous. I was so determined to prove that I could be like Will that I just ended up being a dick.”

His words took a moment to sink in, but you found a small smile breaking over your face as you understood the layers of their meaning. You reached out and touched his knee. Softly, you admitted, “You have no reason to be jealous over Will. I’d never want you to be like him. The main reason that I broke up with him was because, well, he’s not you.”

You could see Tom think about your words for a moment before, ever so slowly, he started to lean in. Tom’s lips seemed to fit perfectly with yours, tenderly moving in sync as you both caved into your suppressed feelings. With one hand cupping your cheek, Tom’s other hand moved to your waist, pulling you in closer to him. You paid no mind to the uncomfortableness of your position on the log, too lost in the kiss to think straight. For the second time that night, you wished that this moment would last forever.

But it came to a quick, bittersweet end as Tom pulled away. His face stayed close to yours, his breath fanning over your face. A smile crossed his lips, “That took us way too long.”

“Way, way too long.” You agreed. He went to pull you in for another kiss, but the sudden cold of the dying fire pulled you two back to reality. Almost reluctantly, you said, “I guess we should probably head inside.”

It was far too cold for either of you to want to stay outside without the comforting heat. Gathering the food and putting out the last of the fire, you two walked back to the cabin, hand in hand.

“Thank you for the s’mores.” Tom said quietly to you, aware that most likely everyone in the cabin was sleeping. He placed the last couple bags of marshmallows and graham crackers on the kitchen counter (the chocolate was all eaten long ago), and you made a mental note to take care of it in the morning.

“Any time.” You joked softly. Tom leaned in to give you a quick, but just as sweet good night kiss.

As he made his way over to the stairs, he spoke up again, “Don’t get too cold tonight.”

“Good night, Tom.” You laughed lightly, turning towards your bedroom door.

“Good night, Y/N.”

With one last exchange of soft, sleepy smiles, you both turned to go your separate ways.

When you entered your quaint cabin room, you were met with Rose’s snores, a sharp contrast to your favorite sound that was Tom’s laughter from moments ago. You quietly maneuvered around the room, getting ready for bed. A smile ghosted your lips as you tugged on Tom’s hoodie. The familiar warmth and scent enveloping you comfortably.

You waited for sleep to overcome you on the cold bed; it felt like hours (when really, it was probably only ten minutes) before you finally decided to get up. With a small sigh, you shuffled out of the bed. Maybe the couch would give you more peace than your shared room.

As you made your way out of your room, you heard a door downstairs open. Curiously, you peeked down the staircase to see Tom emerging from the bathroom, in nothing but basketball shorts.

“What are you still doing up?” Tom asked you with his voice just above a whisper. You silently made your way down the stairs until you were in front of him.

“Couldn’t sleep. The room hasn’t gotten any warmer since last night.” You admitted, subconsciously crossing your arms.

“Come here.” Tom slowly uncrossed your arms, taking one of your hands loosely in his. He led you to his room. The door creaked open and shed some light into the dark bedroom. Wordlessly, he brought you over to his bed and dropped your hand to shuffle the blankets.

“What about Haz?” You whispered as Tom slipped into his bed, laying sideways and as close to the wall as possible to make some room for you.

“It’ll be fine.” He reassured you. You slid into the bed, finding comfort under the blankets. You laid on your side facing Tom, and it was then that you realized just how small the twin bed was— you two were close enough to each other that you could feel his minty breath fan over your cheeks, which still made you nervous even though just ten minutes ago he’d kissed you.

“We’re never going to fall asleep like this.” You teased softly. Tom let out a quiet laugh, shuffling so he was flatter on his back, giving you room to lay in his arms. With your head pressed to his bare chest and his strong arms circling around you, you finally found warmth.

“You’re really warm.” You mumbled into his chest, snuggling into his embrace and letting your legs tangle comfortably with his. It wasn’t the first time the two of you had cuddled, but it was the first time the two of you have cuddled on a tiny bed and with him being shirtless.

“Makes me the best cuddling partner.” Tom mumbled, his chest shaking lightly underneath you as he chuckled. You hummed in agreement, a smile forming on your face.

“Do you two ever shut up?” You heard Harrison question from the bunk above you.

“Do you always have to ruin a perfectly good moment?” Tom replied, and you subconsciously snuggled deeper into his embrace.

“I better not wake up in the middle of the night to noises.” He grumbled. The bed shuffled as he flipped over in his bed to get comfortable.

“Haz, that’s just you snoring.” You teased. He muttered something incoherent and you whispered to Tom, “Let’s wait until he starts snoring and then move his mattress to the lake.”

“Deal.”

Unfortunately for you but luckily for Harrison, you drifted off quickly, listening to the sound of Tom’s heart beating underneath you. You couldn’t help yourself; he made for the best pillow and the best heat source.

The next morning, you woke up with a start, hearing a loud thud from right beside you. Blearily, you leaned over the edge of the twin bed to find the source of the sound; when you saw a groaning, half-asleep Tom on the floor below you, a fit of laughter overcame you. The blankets were falling off the bed, all tangled up in his legs.

“Did you fall off the bed?” Harrison asked, even though all three of you already knew the answer, and you looked up to see him peering over the edge of the bunk bed.

“It’s not funny.” Tom muttered, frowning in faux annoyance at your continued laughter.

You held your hands out to him, offering to help him up even though you were in an impossible position to really help, still laying in the actual bed. Teasingly, you asked, “You got an owie?”

Chuckling, Tom reached up and grabbed your hands, pulling you off the bed. You let out a yelp as you landed on top of him, in a similar position to just last night. Your legs subconsciously fell on either side of his to somewhat straddle him, and you lifted yourself up on the palms of your hands to look down at him properly, a smile etched on your face. The familiar intoxicating pull from last night returned; you almost forgot Harrison was in the room— key word, almost.

“Get up before I come down there and join in.”

And with that, you quickly got off of Tom, and he scrambled to his feet. As Harrison came down the bunk bed ladder, you and Tom put the blankets back onto the bottom bed. You pondered where last night left the two of you, and you weren’t sure how to approach the subject. You were clearly more than friends, but were you more than friends in front of the others?

“What’s for breakfast?” Harrison asked, cutting you off from your thoughts.

Over the course of the next few hours, you tried to somehow be alone with Tom to talk things over. It felt odd how things ended last night— not a bad odd, but odd nonetheless. Between the guys going for yet another run and you all spending time at the lake together, it just seemed like the opportunity would never come.

“God, I can’t believe it took you that long.” Rose teased, a giddy smile on her face as she cut off your recounting of last night. The boys were outside chopping some firewood while you, Rose, and Jane prepared dinner.

Jane winked at you jokingly, “What was it like?”

“What was what like? The kissing?” You asked, and she nodded.

“We want all the details!”

“In all honesty, it was the best kiss of my life.” You admitted, the butterflies you felt last night returning at just the thought.

As the three of you continued to talk, coo, and gossip about the four boys outside, they were hard at work. The late afternoon summer sun was bearing down on them, and they had stripped away their shirts earlier. Tom decided very early on that he didn’t like chopping wood, even if Harrison was somehow worse at it than him. While Tom and Harrison mainly kept to themselves, Will and Tyler had their own conversations going, despite the others clearly within earshot.

“You and Jane— I don’t know how you do it. One girl for all those years?” Will commented, and Tyler laughed with a shrug.

“It’s been so long, I don’t know what I would do without her. Plus, she’s the best fuck I’ve ever had.” Tyler said crassly, making his friend laugh.

“Mine was by far Y/N.” He stated, loudly, as if to ensure that Tom would hear it. At the sound of your name, Tom and Harrison both began to listen in on the conversation.

“It’s been years. Surely, there’s been someone else.”

“Nope.” Will protested, stopping his work to lean on the axe handle, “She was supposed to come over last night, but she must’ve gotten lost.” Tom couldn’t stop himself from scoffing at his words. Hearing the sound, Will turned to face Tom, “Got something to say?”

“Yeah, I do actually.” Tom said, dropping the axe. Holding himself up straighter, he made his way closer to Will. Harrison hesitantly stepped closer to Tom as the brunet continued, “She didn’t get lost, she just had a better option.”

“Better option? You mean you?” He bit back. “Yesterday, you couldn’t even do a simple hike without hurting yourself, and you’re shit at chopping wood. You may think you’re hot shit in London, but this is my turf, movie star. I’m the one who gets the girl here.”

Harrison went to grab Tom’s balled fist, but he was too late as Tom had already swung, nailing the surprised Will right in the nose. Will responded quickly, throwing a punch back at Tom. Tyler and Harrison exchanged questioning looks, silently wondering if they should break up the fight or just let them go at it, but the pair decided the former was probably a better idea.

Aware of sudden commotion outside, you, Rose, and Jane all rushed to the balcony, wondering what could possibly be happening. The fight between Tom and Will was ending as Harrison and Tyler both successfully pulled their respective friends away from the other. Even from the distance, you could see the new bruises on Tom’s face and Will’s bloody nose; it was most likely broken, but you didn’t have it in you to care. The boys were unaware of you and the others, until Harrison looked up at the balcony. He gave you a sad smile, and Tom was next to look up. Ashamed, he didn’t dare to meet your eyes and, instead, grabbed his shirt from a nearby log and trudged his way down to the lake.

Your eyes flickered to Will, and a pit of anger flamed inside you. Just by the look on his face, you didn’t even need to question who was the antagonist. Not bothering to say a word to Rose or Jane, you marched downstairs and out to where Will, Tyler, and Harrison remained.

“What did you say to him?” You questioned Will angrily.

“Nothing he didn’t already know.” He replied nonchalantly.

“That’s bullshit, Will. This is all just bullshit. Every chance you get, you bring up something to antagonize Tom and embarrass me. And, every time you do that, you just remind me that you’re half the man Tom is.”

“You’re acting like I was the one to start the fight. News flash, princess, your man threw the first punch.” Will said, bitterly.

You stepped closer to him, your eyes hardening, and you swore you saw fear flicker in his eyes. “Believe me, if Tom hadn’t broken your nose already, I would break it myself.”

Without another word, you turned on your heel and headed down to the lake. You knew they were all watching you-- Harrison, Tyler, and Will from the ground and Rose and Jane from the balcony. The sun was already starting to line the tops of the trees across the lake, and you felt your anger slowly dissipating as you saw Tom sitting on the dock. With his legs swinging off the edge, he looked at peace, but you knew him better than that; a storm was brewing in his head.

You didn’t say anything, and Tom made no effort to look away from his hands in his lap as you approached. Silently, you sat down right next to him at the end of the dock. Now that you were beside him, you noticed the bruise forming on his eyebrow and the cut on his lip. Will definitely got a few good shots at him, but you could tell Tom had gotten him worse. Your eyes trailed down to his hands; his knuckles were red in agony. Slowly, you reached your hand out to grab his injured one.

“It doesn’t hurt.” Tom mumbled, but you could tell he was holding back the truth. You tenderly placed a kiss on each of his red knuckles before intertwining your fingers.

“Wanna talk about what happened?” You asked him quietly, fearing if you spoke too loud the fragile moment would somehow be ruined.

“He was talking about you like you were just a good fuck and nothing more.” He replied, his voice just as soft as yours.

You couldn’t help but smile at him, your heart fluttering at the thought that he was defending you. You let go of his hand and turned to properly face him. The smile never left your face as you cupped his face in your hands. Confused, Tom asked through a laugh, “What are you doing?”

You kissed his bruised eyebrow before responding, “Well, I’ve got to kiss it better, don’t I?”

“I think you missed a spot then.” Tom pointed to his lips with a cheeky grin. You pressed a chaste kiss to the cut on his lip, before teasingly pulling away. You didn’t get far as Tom’s hand went to the back of your neck, bringing you in for another, deeper kiss. Caught up in the moment, you somehow forgot about his cut; it wasn’t until you nibbled on his bottom lip, accidentally catching the cut, that you remembered and Tom pulled away with a quiet groan.

“I’m sorry.” You said through a laugh, though you were still genuinely concerned about him. Your fingers traced lightly over the agitated cut.

“It’s okay.” He reassured you. One of his hands trailed up your arm to your own hand, and he brought it to his lips, kissing it just as gently as you had kissed his knuckles. “You’re cold.”

“Guess my personal heater isn’t working.” You teased.

“Come here.” Tom beckoned you closer to him. You slid into his side, snuggling into his warm embrace. With his arm hanging around your shoulders, you slipped your fingers through his, smiling at the ease of it all.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” You mumbled, looking at the beauty of the lake and the sunset before you. It was like a scene from a painting, a scene you wanted to memorize forever.

Tom pressed a kiss to your forehead, pulling you in closer to him. “We can stay here as long as you’d like, darling.”

#tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n

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genshin-impacted · 4 years ago

Text

lost & found // Diluc x Reader (3/3)

Word Count: ~6.5k

Notes: Seelie!Reader, GN!Reader, Diluc/Reader, Mondstadt people interaction + Mondstadt Archon Quest, mild violence/fighting description and mentions of blood, Diluc POV briefly, mainly reader!POV

Summary: Oftentimes you find yourself wondering about your life before becoming a seelie, but with Diluc by your side, you don’t let yourself dwell on the long-gone past-- not when Diluc offers you affection and a tenderness that no one else is privy to.

But on moonless nights, you let yourself wish upon a star.

(And sometimes, in this world ruled by the Gods and their stars, wishes are granted.)

Alternatively: Diluc has never asked you or needed you to change for him to love you.

[Part 2]

(thanks for the love for this fic! here is the final addition)

Diluc breathes out and sees the fog it makes in the frigid air of Dragonspine. The world continues to remind him that he’s lucky to have his Pyro vision, and again he’s inclined to agree that it’s a useful tool indeed. He cannot melt the snow that falls on the peaks of these mountains, but even he must admit that his flames have served him well in this icy winterland-- until it doesn’t.

His phoenix burns through ruin guards and hunters alike, along with the icy foothold beneath him, and he falls into this cavern with no way up. He thinks it’s ironic that he’s the one that led himself into this predicament and attests it to your influence as his trouble-finding seelie.

Diluc huffs as he dusts off the snow from his shoulders and continues further into the hole he fell into, leaving tracks wherever he can so that you can find him. He knows better than anyone what you can do, and he knows that you cannot find him if he doesn’t leave clues.

It is neither a surprising nor disappointing revelation to him. Diluc has always known that there is nothing special that binds the two of you together-- and perhaps that is why he cherishes what the two of you have. There is no contract, no string of fate, no hand of god that has put the two of you together or convinced the other to stay. You have chosen to stay with Diluc, and Diluc has chosen to let your presence change his life bit by bit.

Ever since coming back to Mondstadt, he has slowly grown more accustomed to working with other people, though with your appearance, his change has been accelerated. For with every adventure you drag him into, he meets new people, forming different teams. He’s helped Razor handle his broadsword better, and now he visits him ever so often to let him spar to his content. He let his stars be read by Mona, despite his initial hesitance (apparently, you are very into astrology), and can now see the constellations form above him much more clearly. And while he has never seen the need to be closer to his god, Venti sees the both of you more often outside of the tavern, and he sees a glimpse of Barbatos within the wind-weaving bard.

You are a comforting presence: straightforward, easy to read, and compassionate. And he does not resist, much like everyone else, when you twirl your way into his heart. It is no longer surprising for him to understand that he does not need to be alone on the dark side of dawn when you have chosen to accompany him.

Speaking of choice, Diluc thinks irritably, wringing out the water from his hair. How did he agree to wander around Dragonspine of all places? He must have been caught up in the logistics of the experiment itself as well as your easy agreement. Diluc is admittedly the only person that understands your every nuance (or, well, most of it; some twirls are lost in translation), but even he cannot quite decipher what you want to take from this experiment of Albedo’s.

When you find him-- which you will, he will ask you, and he thinks you will tell him as best as you can. For someone that cannot speak, you are the most honest individual in his life, which is something he has repeatedly found endearing and refreshing.

Diluc climbs up the side of a cliff near the camp, only to see Albedo and Sucrose discussing at the edge of it. He briefly wonders if the experiment has ended, but when he does not see your light between the two of them, his breath hitches in the momentary panic he finds all too familiar to when he lost you the first time.

Albedo spots him before he can speak. “Master Diluc, I’m relieved to find that you’re safe," he says briefly, and Diluc can at least respect how quickly the alchemist gets to the point, because he continues quickly. “Your seelie left to go find you before we could assess the situation.” He sighs as Sucrose frantically hands Diluc a towel to dry himself and a seat. “You gave them quite the scare, disappearing on us like that.”

“You mean they’re out there on their own right now?” Diluc presses, feeling his hackles raise.

“Yes. We’re going to go out to recount your steps-- undoubtedly, your seelie will be trying to find you--”

Diluc doesn’t need to hear anything else. He holds the towel to Sucrose who nervously puts her hands up, unsure on what to do. “I’ll go find them,” he says. “The experiment is finished now, right?”

“Do not go." Albedo sighs, and however Diluc thought of him before, it’s evident now that he is, above all else, frustrated with how things have turned out. “It’s my experiment and a miscalculation on my part. You should stay--”

“I’ll be fine--”

“Your vision does not make you impervious to the climates,” Albedo says calmly. He thinks he sees a gleam of cunning in Albedo’s eyes when he glares at the alchemist. “Besides, would your seelie be happy if you got yourself sick going to find them?” And Diluc cannot respond to that.

“That being said,” Albedo continues, pulling at his gloves. “I predict you will refuse to stay here permanently. As it’s my fault, I’ll provide you with at least a potent heating potion before you go. Please wait; it won’t take long.”

“...Thank you,” Diluc says, taking back his towel much to Sucrose’s relief. When he sees Albedo head off onto his alchemy table, he sighs and settles into his seat. Where could you have gone, he thinks, drying his hair. After leaving the waterfall, he had… climbed the clifftop. Perhaps you lost him there without any way to notice which way he went afterward, which was a mistake on his part. Perhaps he should--

Diluc pauses his train of thought and instinctively turns his head to the left where he sees you floating. And the relief, oh, the relief he feels when he sees you fly toward him makes smiling easy. “There you are. I was about to go look for you since you weren't with Albedo." He swallows, beginning to breathe easy again. "I was worried," he admits, "I--" He stops abruptly when he looks up at you.

You are crying, and he almost does not know what to do.

He didn’t realize you could cry. Diluc isn’t sure if he can even call them tears-- these globby droplets that disappear when they fall off your body that, when Diluc brushes them away, does not make his gloves wet.

But he sweeps them away when they come anyways. “Hey,” he says tenderly, as you raise your voice from distress. “It’s okay. I’m fine; I’m here.” He cups your small orb-like body and listens to you as best as he can, sweeping his hand over your head and ears soothingly until your hiccup-like speech slows down to a halt.

“You found me,” he tells you firmly. “You found me.” He repeats himself until you are warm in his hands and his hair is dry, the towel left forgotten on the ground.

Even when you have long calmed down, he continues to look over his shoulder to watch as you converse with Sucrose. “Did you get what you were looking for?” Diluc asks the alchemist, who hands him the warming potions for any emergencies.

“Yes. Simply put, your mini seelie does not choose what it finds.” Albedo explains, “However, based on previous observations, they can hone in on things that are… otherworldly. You may be glad to confirm that you are, in fact, not otherworldly. And though this was not my intended result, I also would like to inform you that their attachment to you is out of their own volition…” Albedo watches in barely concealed amusement as Diluc glances over at you again. “Though, I’m sure you already knew this.” He clears his throat. “I would like to offer them future experimentation if they are willing.”

Diluc does his best not to look confused, but his pause gets the better of him. “Why are you asking me?”

Albedo only arches his brow and asks as a matter-of-fact, “Are you not each other’s keeper?” He continues without pause to quickly go over any logistics he has remaining, the details of Dragonspine (lest he fall into a pit again), before going over to talk to you briefly. Diluc wonders what the alchemist talked to you about but he decides to let the questions be asked later.

For now, you twirl up to him, beaming at him more brightly than usual, and he does not have it in him to say anything other than, “Let’s go home.”

.By the time the two of you arrive at the winery, it is dark. You do not hesitate to corral him into getting ready for sleep, and he indulges you by not protesting.

“What did you want to get out of the experiment today?” Diluc asks you, untying his hair and placing it onto his nightstand. Before he can finish his question, you bury yourself into his hair, and he thinks that your tweets and trills sound very much like laughter. He chuckles. “Avoiding the question, are you? How very unlike you,” he teases, and he knows you hear him when he looks into the mirror and sees you peek out from underneath the red and squeak indignantly.

“I’m kidding.” Diluc lifts his hair so you can climb out and face him. “You’re the most straightforward person I know,” he says fondly, and he briefly wonders when he has gotten so honest with himself, letting you know how he feels with the amount of emotion he puts into his words to you.

Sated, you flip around once before settling into his cupped hands, deep in thought. Diluc doesn’t quite understand how your mannerisms make your emotions so recognizable, but he imagines that if you had hands, they would be under your chin in a thinking pose.

He patiently waits for an answer, walking around his room and blowing out the lights. When he turns off the last one, you can only look up at him and let out a quiet coo-- an apology. His hands are already comforting you the moment after you answer him.

“It’s alright,” Diluc says. “I suppose it’s not exactly easy to explain that.” He adds on immediately, “And don’t apologize again. It’s fine.”

“I think I can understand why without you telling me,” he says, and if his voice is a little raw, he hopes it goes by unnoticed. “It’s hard, isn’t it-- not knowing what you’re supposed to be doing."

Quietly, you float up, and Diluc feels his heart tremble when you press a kiss to his forehead in a mix of an apology, a comforting notion, and an act of love. He lays down in silence with you, and if you make a nest out of his hair, and if he wakes up with you nestled at the crook of his neck, he does not say a word.

There is no need.

“Isn’t it enough?” Lisa asks him as she leans over the library railing. Diluc looks over to her as he puts away the last of the books he has asked to borrow, and he knows what she is asking before she finishes. Still, she tilts her head, her hat staying steady on her head, and repeats, “Isn’t it enough that they’re here with you?”

“Yes,” Diluc says without hesitation. “It is.”

“Can I ask why you’re still researching about seelies then?” Lisa pauses, putting her hand over her shoulder, and Diluc knows she will arrive at the right answer without him telling her. “If not for you then… for them? You’re looking for answers for your mini seelie?”

"I try to do what I can," he says, ignoring the way Lisa's eyes gleam all too knowingly. (He always knew there was much more to her at first glance.) "Thanks for the help, I--" He pauses when he catches Lisa smiling behind her fist. "...What is it?" he asks warily.

"Oh, nothing." Lisa croons, giggling, "I just think it's sweet how the two of you treat each other. Anyone would get jealous of that." She pauses, looking out the window as the sun sets in the west. "It almost seems like a miracle to have the two of you find each other, don't you think? Fate, perhaps? How utterly romantic!"

"You're letting Kaeya influence you too much," Diluc retorts, much to Lisa's amusement.

"Maybe so," she says, sighing, "but even if it was fate, you wouldn't have cherished them any less." She gives Diluc a pointed look even he cannot deny. "Isn't that right, Master Diluc?"

Diluc huffs, walking past her to head down the stairs. "Asking that, I'm sure you already know my answer," he tells her, and he lets his mouth twitch in a semblance of a smile when he hears her complain about his tight-lipped attitude. It blossoms into a full-blown smile when he starts heading back to the winery.

When he comes back, you are waiting for him among the grapevines as the winery is basked in orange light.

He's home.

Diluc sleeps early and wakes up before the crack of dawn and takes you up the clifftop overlooking the winery. He had told you that there was something he wanted to do and left it at that. Not that you minded-- you were happy to follow him, blocking out any sharp rocks so he wouldn’t grab ahold of them as he climbed and scaring off any elemental wisps that came your way.

When the two of you reach the clifftop, the sky begins to grow brighter as the sun peeks over the horizon. The color change from blue to yellow then orange is truly beautiful, and you are almost mesmerized as Diluc takes a seat down next to you, watching the sunrise.

“...It’s almost been a year now,” Diluc says, “since we first met.”

Happy Anniversary? You squeak in confusion, only to whip your body to face him when you realize why you’re here with him at dawn to watch the beautiful scene unfold before you. You squeak rapidly, stumbling over your words that he cannot hear but can understand anyhow. You hadn’t realized-- You were an idiot for not planning anything either, not that you could-- What kind of ore could you go find to bring to him as a present--?

“Thank you,” Diluc tells you, “for the past year.” In the backdrop of the rising sun, you think he is almost too bright to watch with that gentle smile of his. The thought is only exacerbated when he cups you in his hands as softly as he has always done. “Let’s see what this year has in store for us together.”

You trill softly, floating in the air to situate yourself on top of his head to watch the ocean shine brighter with the rising sun.

It is not the New Year for any country nor culture, but you look into the horizon and make a wish that no one can hear. One year has passed, many things have changed, but you find that the one thing that has not is your adoration for Diluc.

"Let's go back home," he tells you, not for the first time, when the sun rises substantially above the horizon. Obediently, you float down into his sights where you twirl playfully in the air in thanks for the view. He chuckles. "No problem," he says, and he leans down just enough to place a quick kiss in between your ears.

(In hindsight, perhaps you should have wished for more kisses in the following year if you thought that was actually something you could wish for.)

Like the beginnings of a new arc, you lead Diluc onto the start of another campaign that lasts longer than normal and ties in with the previous adventures you have had with Diluc.

You find Aether on the shores east of Mondstadt. Diluc can only look at you curiously when Aether reveals his visionless powers and his desire to find his sister, for if there were ever any need for corroborating evidence on your talent or ability, Aether is living proof of it.

With the traveler, you resolve many of the things that neither you nor Diluc could comprehend. The red, crystalline tears are purified, the winds calm down with Dvalin’s defeat, and Venti-- or should you say, Barbatos-- as usual, disappears in a wisp of dandelions to leave the City of Freedom to its autonomy. In the breezes of Mondstadt, you can feel his protective gaze upon the city, and more often than not, you find him wandering in the tavern, looking for a quick drink that Diluc offers ‘reluctantly.’ (You know him better now; Diluc would rather hug Kaeya than admit that he cares for the people in his life more than he shows, and Venti is one of the people he can find a fondness for. You still find yourself abashed to know that you are the only one Diluc can say unashamedly and wholeheartedly that he adores you-- in his own way.)

Aether’s presence in Mondstadt is a breath of fresh air, considering how compassionate he is and how willing he is to help with the common troubles of those in the city. He is led along by Kaeya, tugged onto an impromptu date by Lisa, and given a mask to go undercover with Diluc and help him in ways that you cannot. The tug of jealousy is unfamiliar, but you are more glad than anything that Aether can be his partner during the most dangerous of missions. You tag along as moral support and as a guiding post-- and for that, you find yourself most similar to Paimon, who, for some reason, keeps being compared to emergency food.

“You’re my companion,” Diluc tells you with finality when you look up at him, barely forming the thought in your head about being his emergency food. “Don’t doubt that.”

Turns out, people can not breathe when you are covering their entire face with your translucent body.

When the dust settles, you never think of turning Aether down when he asks you if you can sense whether his sister is in Mondstadt.

You leave with Aether and Paimon with the promise that you return to Diluc at the winery. You guide the two of them to Stormterror’s Lair, a place you have gotten far more acquainted with in the past month, and head up to the cliffside where a ruin guard’s footprints remain next to a dandelion. You can sense something here, though you are unsure of what, and you are about to apologize for finding nothing when Aether looks over to you with wet eyes.

You coo up at him comfortingly as he sighs with a mixture of relief and sadness. “Thank you,” he tells you, holding out his hand. You press against it, and you hope he knows that the best you can do to imitate a comforting hand-hold. “At least now I know for sure she’s here in this world.” He smiles at you. “This gives me a lot of hope that I’ll find her, so… thank you, really.”

Aether leaves for Liyue in the next few days, and if you had known he would leave so soon you would have done more than held his hand. You wish you could comfort him, reassure him that his sister, too, must be looking for him just as hard as he was. (Even if this was not the truth, you think if you wish hard enough, you could maybe manifest it for him.) You have so many words within you and yet none of them are conveyed, and Aether’s sad smile stays.

It gets hard sometimes, knowing how little you can do, and how much you could have done before-- and this is one of those moments. It is rare for you to feel melancholy over the things you no longer have, but they come and go like the waves on Falcon Coast. Without a word, Diluc can tell when you are feeling down, holding you when you fall into his hands.

His kisses come more often now, and he places one between your ears when you are with him during your lower moods. You think your day improves almost immediately when he does so, but it helps tremendously also that Diluc never forgets to reassure you.

“If you want me to help you with anything,” he says, “you only need to ask."

You coo again, twirling once, nudging at his cheek before backing away just enough to look at him. If you had a heart (and you sometimes suspect you do), it would be beating quickly as you wait for him to decipher your actions.

“...Ah,” he says, picking you up again. You think for a moment he looks as embarrassed as you feel, but then he asks, “...Another one?” and places a second kiss onto your head.

You trill, pleased that you are spoiled by Diluc and even happier that Diluc only joins you in your mirth when he huffs in laughter.

“What an honest seelie,” he says, and you could not be more content with how fond he sounds of you and how, again and again, he continues to be patient with you even when you cannot be patient with yourself.

Sometimes when the moon is high and Diluc is fast asleep, you find yourself at the place you first came to fruition as a seelie. The lake by the Winery and this exact scenery may as well be your birthplace. When you look into the reflection you see your orb-like features, viscous yet watery all at once, emitting light.

But sometimes, when the only light is coming from the fireflies that glow beside you, you look into the lake and see a familiar face staring back at you. They have your face-- your eyes, your nose, your mouth, and your brows of a time when you were not a seelie. It’s the only time you get to see this image of your past self, reminding you of what you were before. Sometimes, you think you can hear your voice being carried over by the winds of another world, of another time.

These moments are the only thing you have kept to yourself.

After all, what’s the point of holding onto something that you no longer have? The man you’ve grown to care for-- grown to love-- is someone who has his eyes set forward toward the future, and you’re going to be there with him no matter what.

Although seelies cannot dream, you dream of carrying over the tray of tankards and washing the dishes in the tavern, of carrying Klee over your shoulders as you lead her to Albedo, of bumping elbows with Kaeya jokingly or placing a blanket over Jean’s shoulders when she falls asleep in her office again.

You dream of lacing your hands with Diluc’s, pressing your lips upon his temple, and hearing his heartbeat against his chest with a steady, grounding rhythm that reminds you you are home.

And sometimes, just dreaming is enough.

(And sometimes, it is not.)

Life goes on. You see more of Mondstadt and begin to know the land like the back of Diluc’s hand. Knights and adventurers alike know you as the little seelie, and whether they think you follow Diluc or Diluc follows you is up to each person’s interpretation. (Regardless, none of them are wrong.)

You accompany Diluc when he trains Razor in Wolvendom, and you invite Bennett to adventure sometimes with the two of you. (The boy may be unlucky, but you’re a magnet of trouble, so you think you have some things in common. A lot more things explode when he accompanies you but Diluc can handle it.) You make sure Jean gets some rest (“Your seelie is, um… very…” “Stubborn?” “I was going to say determined.”) and follow Lisa around on her expired library book expeditions. (“You think she’s beautiful, don’t you?” Diluc says to you, and you wonder why you babble excuses to him-- You’re more beautiful!-- while he looks at you in amusement.)

You and Diluc spend more time with other people in comparison to before, but you still have quiet moments with just the two of you when the days are slow. You’ve been learning how to move small things even better than before, among other things, but with this skill in particular, you can actually slide the pieces on the chessboard when you play against Diluc, who looks on (fondly) as you do your best to carefully push the pieces with your body.

You always end up knocking some down, but when you finally get a handle of it, you do it with such concentration that Diluc doesn't have the heart to offer help. He does, however, end up polishing the board so the pieces slide more easily. You notice it’s shinier but he doesn’t let you pay it any mind.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says to you, and you think the words I love you come to mind more often than not recently.

Thank you, you trill instead, and you ache with a want that pulses ever so often when you want so much more than you have when Diluc reaches out to caress your head.

“Like I said,” Diluc says softly. “Don’t pay it any mind. It’s your move still, you know.”

And you move the pieces. And you pick the grapes in his vineyard. And you find artifacts of crimson for him. And you kiss the scars from the many years he has battled (with or without you).

He gains another in the next, final battle with you as his seelie.

Diluc has gotten hurt before. It’s inevitable with the number of enemies he faces, the number of times you run into enemy territory, but it has never been a problem for him to stand back up and fight. His fire burns brightly-- shine true is his motto, and Diluc lives those words as though they have been etched onto his soul.

Much like fire, Diluc is relentless, and you can only follow him as he pushes through enemies, listens to his connections, and finds a den of thieves that have been terrorizing Springvale for months. The two of you should have known that their efficiency was because they were led on by the Fatui, but you fail to notice until they have you surrounded.

You have every faith in Diluc to come out safe and sound, but it takes only one mistake for you to be reminded that there is a limit to everything.

The blade slices through so quickly you aren’t sure what happened, but when Diluc pulls his hand back from the cut on his side to have it painted with blood, your heart drops.

“A little out of depth, don’t you think, Darknight Hero?”

“I’d keep my tongue in my mouth if I were you,” Diluc growls, and you can only tremble in mid-air as your mind races with the things you can do-- only to think of all the things you cannot do. You almost miss what Diluc tells you with the way your hearing fuzzes. “Go back to Mondstadt and tell the Knights where these bandits are,” Diluc says, and you know it’s serious when Diluc thinks about reaching out to the knights. (This is partly true, you would realize later, that despite Diluc’s hesitance on being associated with the knights, he knows you would reach out to Kaeya or Jean if needed-- if not for him but so you would be taken care of.)

You should have told Jean or Kaeya or Amber or even Lisa where the two of you had gone just in case things go awry. The thought never crossed your mind things could go wrong when you had Diliuc with you.

“You’ll find me again,” Diluc tells you softly when you hesitate, and you wonder how he can lie to you like that when his gloves are too bloodied to even hold you. “I promise.”

How could you ask me to do that? You plead, feeling tears well up again. How could you ask me to leave you?

“It’s okay,” Diluc tells you, and his bare hands are warm. “It’s fine.”

You are ripped out of Diluc’s hands when someone throws an electro grenade in the fire below Diluc’s feet. He’s still standing even after this, but a throwing knife hits him on the shoulder, another grenade to his left. You can do nothing but watch as Diluc is hurt, falling onto the ground.

If there was ever a moment you wanted something so badly, you would have done anything to get it, it would be right here-- right now.

You are the last thing he sees.

“You whose strength stems from your devotion, I shall lend you my power.”

You don’t know whose voice you heard or how somehow you have the hands to hold onto the Vision framed with Mondstadt wings in your hands, but you’ve learned not to question the good things in life-- one of them being your life at Diluc’s side.

Your voice is loud, you realize, when you shout at the bandits to leave. And your powers are strong-- strong enough to protect the person that matters most.

The bandits run at the fight sign of trouble, and the Fatui agent is unconscious. (You checked.)

You hold Diluc as he lies on your lap, breathing heavily but still breathing-- thank the archons. You quickly brush his hair away from his face and press on his wound, wincing when he lets out a grunt of pain even unconscious. I won’t let them hurt you, you think, taking one of his hands to brush your lips over his knuckles. (His hands are rough and calloused, but you love them just the same for how gently they held you when you were just a seelie.) If they come back, they’ll have to get through me.

“Hello, mini seelie.”

You look up from Diluc just in time to see a hand reach down to softly rustle your hair, much to your dismay. The initial reaction gives way to surprise when you recognize that the voice comes from none other than Kaeya. He grins down at you with his sword by his hip, and you frantically look around to see if the bandits had come back.

How did you--?

“Nice wings you got there,” Kaeya teases you, making you look back and find that oh, when did those get there? “Didn’t even notice them because you were too worried about Diluc, huh?” When you nod, he softens his gaze. “Why don’t you let us take care of things around here, hm?” He glances down at Diluc who has been sleeping soundly in your lap. “Let’s get him back home.”

When a few knights come with a cart to ambulate Diluc back to Mondstadt instead of the winery (you couldn’t argue with Jean even if you did choose to speak; she’s stubborn when the people she cares about are hurt), you feel the tension leave your body all at once, and for the first time in what feels like an eternity, you actually feel sleepy.

“I’m glad we arrived right in the nick of time.” You turn to Kaeya who had been working behind the scenes, directing the knights. “You did good work, chasing them out of here so we could catch them easily,” he says, “I-- oof!”

You tackle Kaeya into a grateful hug, and it takes him a few moments to respond by placing his hands onto your back and giving it a few pats. “There, there,” Kaeya drawls, but you can hear the smile in his voice anyways. “Better not hug too long; Diluc might be jealous that I’m the person you hug first, you know.”

You let go slowly, grinning up at him as though you agree, and you dodge Kaeya before he can mess with your hair again. On the way out of the camp, Jean gives you a smile, Amber waves excitedly at you before rounding up a few more bandits, and your cheeks hurt a little from the way Lisa pinched it. You go find Diluc where he’s being taken back in a horse-drawn cart and hold his hand until you’ve fallen asleep by his side.

(In his sleep, Diluc holds onto you.)

Diluc wakes up twice. Once, very briefly, when your wings are expansive and when the Vision at your waist shines brightly with power. Before he wakes up the second time, you can already feel the power fade from both you and the Vision.

You knew that your transformation was temporary; powers do not always last forever, especially since the glow of your Vision seems contingent on the cycles of the moon-- particularly the moon that you were born on. You think that you should feel more disappointed, but you don’t. You get to hold onto Diluc’s hand in yours and wipe away the sweat from his forehead as he sleeps, and you think that if you only get this one chance to do these things, then you will take what you can get.

You will love Diluc as you are, no matter what form you take. Your transformation wasn’t necessary. Your powers were a bonus, but even if you weren’t granted a miracle, Diluc would have been safe, as a courtesy of Kaeya who had been trailing behind the two of you since you from the start. (Kaeya and Diluc's connections had the same info this time around, so they were bound to intersect at some point.) What you’ve been given was not the power to save Diluc, but the chance to love him in a way you have always dreamed of doing.

When Diluc opens his eyes the second time around, more aware and more awake, you almost don’t know what to do. It’s a momentary panic when you think he doesn’t know who you are, but he only needs to take one look at you before he raises his hand to caress your cheek as he’s always done.

“It’s okay, I’m here. I’m fine,” he soothes, though his voice is still raspy from disuse. “Don’t cry.”

I can’t believe you wanted me to leave you behind. How could you tell me that?

“...Sorry,” he says, and you raise your head from his bed just enough so he can wipe away the tears on your lashes. “It’s funny but even if you don’t talk, I can still understand you.”

You watch as he slowly takes your hand and presses his palm against yours, lowering his fingers until they’ve interlocked with yours. “My seelie,” he says with all the warmth in the world. You can only nod before you’re wiping away the tears that spring up again. "Even in this form, you'll still lead me, right? Still find me if I get lost?"

You don't know what type of face you're making, but Diluc softens his gaze before shifting slightly in the bed offered to him by the church. "Come here," he whispers, arms outstretched.

You tentatively place your weight onto the bed, arms placed on each of his sides as you gingerly climb into bed with him. When he winces, you put a hand on his chest, alarmed, to stop him from exerting himself.

“I’m fine,” he says immediately, and when he looks at you, he bursts out laughing, only for him to wince again more strongly. “Sorry, your expressions-- they’re exactly how I imagined them.” He chuckles, though you purse your lips at him as you finally settle under the covers next to him. You make a sound of surprise when he leans over just enough to press a kiss onto your forehead. You hear his soft huff of laughter again when you bury your face into his chest out of embarrassment. “Still as easy to read as ever.”

You grab a hold of his shirt with your ears pressed against his sturdy chest. He gently rubs circles on your shoulder as you listen to his heartbeat, which is as steady as you have imagined it to be. It quickens ever-so-slightly, and you look up at Diluc in time to see him gaze down at you tenderly. “You don’t have to speak,” he says, brushing his hand across your cheek. “Nothing has to change at all. But there’s something I want to know.” You raise your hand to caress his hand (and he finds the courage to keep on speaking).

“Do you think you can tell me your name?” Diluc whispers, the most unsure you have ever seen him, and you think you’re so fond of him your heart (not just metaphorical this time) might burst from it.

It takes only a moment for you to decide to scoot yourself up just enough to kiss him on the side of his mouth, and you can't help but grin at the stupefied expression on his face.

And you say your name.

How interesting is it that it's the one thing you cannot convey through trills and twirls, cannot show through hugs and kisses? You never thought that your name could have such significance but you watch as Diluc's eyes widen and you think this moment is the gift the gods have given you.

Diluc takes a moment to taste your name, and he calls out to you for the very first time out of many, many, many times.

Before the sun rises, Diluc wakes up to your bright glow and with your seelie body pressed up against his collarbone. He breathes your name into the quiet infirmary before he closes his eyes to sleep again.

You are found more often than you are lost. For every time Diluc calls your name-- as a seelie or as a human (fairy?)-- your heart soars as high as the anemograms at Brightcrown Mountain.

As a seelie, your life with Diluc stays the same-- for the most part. No one treats you differently and no one loves you differently from when they knew you as just a seelie. If anything, the biggest change has been in Diluc's life where the stares from his admirers are more muted and the swoons reduced, for how could anyone continue to pine over someone that is so evidently preoccupied with someone else? (Even though they've only seen the person who Diluc holds in high regard once every new moon.)

Every adventure still has the same probability to go awry and Diluc still polishes the chessboard to perfection for you. Though on moonless nights, Diluc can hold you close, and you can hold him closer, saying his name (the second word you ever say) and hoping he can never feel quite as lost as before when you are here with him.

FIN

temp taglist

@creation-magician @inlustris-but-obey-me @lumi-ying @thetwinkims @loveyoutothestars @ninqat @winterptilopsis @nya-vivi @just-noelle @shr3ik

#diluc ragnivindr #diluc/reader #diluc x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact diluc #diluc #genshin diluc #kaeya #albedo #jean #lisa #aether #mini seelie #the amt of times i stopped myself from rambling

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acourtofbookishdreams · 4 years ago

Text

Azriel ~ Different

Azriel x Reader

Summary: You have been having nightmares frequently and Azriel always is there to help you. This time, though, you finally open up about your nightmares and the things you experienced Under the Mountain.

Warning: Mentions of r*pe and sex*al assault. Please be wary.

Word Count: 1785

Azriel POV

Her screams had woken me again.

"Azriel! Azriel, no!"

This was becoming a recurrent, nightly tradition. A tradition I wished would would just simply not be anymore.

I did what I always did, bursting into her room, Truthteller at the ready to fend off whatever ailed her but we both knew it was mostly for show. Still, I would never not rush to her side, never leave Truthteller behind for the sake of the fact that the one time I didn't would inevitably be the one time something was truly, physically wrong with her and I would kick myself for treating it as any other night - especially since the fear was certainly not all that unfounded.

But it was just a nightmare. Another nightmare.

'YOUR' POV

My screams had woken him again.

He had done the chivalrous thing of course, bursting into my room with Truthteller, prepared to fight the evil lurking in the shadows he couldn't predict or trust but we both knew nothing was there to fight, it was all in my head.

Another nightmare.

One like all the rest but this time...it was worse.

"Y/N" Azriel breathes, lowering the blade

"I'm okay" I shake my head, offering a weak smile, "Routine procedure at this point, right?"

I bite my lip, trying to hold the tears back and averting my gaze. It was usually at this point that Azriel would ask if I wanted him to stay but for some reason tonight was different. He closed the door, left Truthteller on the bedside table and climbed into bed with me immediately after, no questions, no waiting for an invitation.

Of course, I knew if I told him to leave he would do so. It was always my choice. But tonight it appeared maybe he needed this contact as much as I.

"You're safe" Azriel murmurs, gathering me into his arms.

I choke on a sob, curling into his side and resting my head on his bare chest. Usually, when he was shirtless it was an effort to keep focused but at the moment it was just further proof he was here, alive and free. It was proof he was safe.

"It's not my safety that scares me" I breathe. Once again, we were breaking from normal pattern. Previous nights, it had always been my screaming waking him, he would run in, ask if I wanted him to stay, I would agree and then he'd hold me until I fell asleep.

I never talked about the nightmares I had, never. Not even the first time...

"No!" she screamed, thrashing violently in the bedsheets, almost tearing them apart, "No, don't take-NO!"

"Y/N!" Azriel yells, bursting in through the door at the same time she awakens, clutching the sheets to her chest, sweat slick hair plastered to her forehead, tears streaming down in uncontrolled rivers of fear and pain, "Y/N, what is it?!"

"Nothing, Az, I'm sorry for waking you" she sighed, running a hand through her hair, "It was just a nightmare, I've had them for a while."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Azriel frowned, Truthteller lowering to his side.

"It wasn't necessary. I've been dealing with these since-before I got back."

"Would you..." Azriel trailed off, "Do you want me to stay?"

"No, I..." she began to reject the proposal but suddenly changed her mind, "Actually, yes, please."

Azriel nods, placing Truthteller on the bedside table before moving to open up the covers, having since nervously been put in some semblance of order as they had spoken but he stops mid-way noting that her resolve had shaken - that she was now shaking, violent sobs wracking her body.

"Y/N" Azriel said and the one word was enough to break her.

"Azriel" she sobbed, tears flowing freely again, face screwed up into an expression of unfiltered pain.

"Y/N" Azriel whispers, sitting on the bed and pulling her onto his lap. She wrapped her legs and arms around him, securing herself to him as she sobbed into his neck until the sun rose.

She had fallen asleep that way, her legs and arms secured around him in a tight embrace, tears dried and leaving her skin slightly sticky with the moisture.

He had placed her down in the bed after he had fixed the sheets with one hand, the other supporting her body, becoming limp each second sleep overtook her.

He had intended to leave but she had subconsciously clung to him with a grip so strong it had surprised him and rather than risk waking you or, worse, upsetting you, he had climbed into bed beside her, tucking her into his chest so her face rested right where his heart was.

He had found it a very fitting place for her to rest.

Azriel had done it every night since, every time a nightmare came around unless you wished otherwise, which had never happened as of yet. Even if you didn't scream out, his shadows were so attuned to you, he would sense it and come in anyhow - where you would be sitting cross legged on the bed, hugging yourself or crying or just staring at the ceiling with a dead expression on your face.

Having him with you, holding you in his arms, stroking your hair, legs intertwined and breathing synchronised. It was the best remedy for your fear.

A cure.

"Then what does scare you?" Azriel asks, his voice hesitant to bring up a memory that causes you pain.

"You do" I breathe, "My nightmares are always about you."

Azriel breathes in deeply, "I scare you?"

"No, no!" I rebuke, "No, not you personally! My nightmares always involve you...they..."

"You don't have to tell me" Azriel whispers

"I think I need to" I admit, "These dreams, they're obviously not getting better. Maybe telling someone...maybe telling someone will help."

Azriel waits patiently. Content to listen or to completely disregard everything you said if that was what you wished, the way he'd always been.

"Most nights, A-Amarantha comes back" I explain, stumbling over the name, "And this time she takes you instead of Rhys and other nights...other nights it had always been you that was taken."

"And she took you because she knew he was hiding something" Azriel confirmed, it was the little knowledge he did have of Amarantha and her motives, "So to punish him further, she took you, his only living relative, and..."

"And that's all you know" I nod, "But what you don't know is that...she didn't just punish Rhys. She punished me too."

Azriel stiffens in my arms, his hand momentarily freezing in it's soothing stroking up and down my spine.

"If any of it gets to be too much, I can stop" I say

"No" Azriel shakes his head, "You lived it. I can at least stand to hear about it, especially if it helps you."

"She used to...make me watch." I spat in disgust, "While she...basically raped Rhys I had to watch. Everything she did to him, the malice in her eyes while she did what she did, the enjoyment in knowing he was doing this not for her but to protect what he loved...Worse, we both had to pretend it was normal. That we enjoyed it. If we didn't, our facade as the Court of Nightmares would fall apart and we couldn't let that happen."

Peering up at Azriel, I stopped for a moment to assess his reaction. His eyes were hard as flint, like chips of hazel ice. He nodded softly, encouraging me to continue.

"On the odd occasion she would also...bring me into the scene. It wasn't often, she didn't like it all that much herself it was mainly just to put us on edge. Thankfully, she never made us do anything...to each other. I never touched Rhys once nor he me and I'll always thank the Mother for that but she would still...it was still..."

"You don't need to say what it was" Azriel cuts in, "I know."

Traumatising.

It was traumatising.

"So, when the nightmares come about. It's not Rhys under Am-under her. It's you. I see her with you. Some nights you're faking it like we had to, others you're genuinely enjoying it, and sometimes you're...screaming and-and begging her to stop-" My tears choke off the words and I sob loudly.

He pulls me ever closer in response, hushing me as his hands stroke my hair, "That's not me. It was never me."

"What if it could be?" I cry, "What if another one of her comes around one day and they take you. I couldn't bear it-"

"You could. I had to" Azriel admits. Both comforting and upfront. He would never lie to you and to say it would never happen again could be a lie, "When you were taken, I...Cauldron, I would always try to leave Velaris, damn the consequences. It was always Amren and sometimes Mor and Cass who would pull me off the ledge. I couldn't stand it, thinking about what she could be doing to Rhys but, to you...it was worse. Infinitely worse."

"If it ever does happen, I need you to be strong" Azriel continues, "I will do everything in my power to keep it from happening but if the Mother decides that's how things play out...I will need you to be strong, to protect yourself because the idea of you ever being hurt for the sake of me...it's not right."

"It would be" I sniffle, "To keep you safe, I would do anything. I did. Rhys did."

"You'll never have to again" Azriel resolves, kissing the top of my head, "Never again."

I exhale loudly, making a sudden decision that could change everything.

"Azriel?"

"Mmm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too" His response was automatic. I mean, we had said it a dozen times but this...was different.

"I don't mean it like that" I admit, peering up at him sheepishly, "I'm in love with you. I have been for a...a very long time."

Azriel's silence spurs me on to speak more, explain myself.

"I understand if you don't feel the same and I'm sorry I never told you earlier but at first it was a crush and then...then I got taken and I was stuck without you for so long. After that, I knew it was love and not a crush on my part but I couldn't say anything. I just...I couldn't. But then you came in every night to help with my nightmares and that was-"

My words are cut off as Azriel takes my chin in his hand, dipping his head and kisses me. Soft, tentative, comforting. It wasn't the kind of kiss that made your toes curl or butterflies erupt, it was the kind of kiss that admitted everything words could never express.

He pulls back only slightly, leaving you nose to nose.

"I have always loved you" Azriel breathes, "From the moment I saw you barrelling into the Illyrian camps, bright smile and unruly attitude."

"I love you" I smile, tears sliding down my face, - happy tears, "So much"

"And I you."

After that, neither of you slept alone ever again.

Masterlist

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somehow-progressing · 4 years ago

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WTNV 182 / 132 Connection

So this isn't the first time Cecil's mother and trees have been connected.

In 132, exactly fifty episodes previously, her bedtime story was about a boy who turned into a tree.

I reviewed this episode to look for connections and..

Oh, boy.

So, first off, the boy's interest in science obviously reminded me of Carlos, right? But then the similarities stop there.

And start leading towards Cecil.

(The rest under the cut)

We now know that there was a time where Cecil's father was in the picture, although it may have been when Cecil was very, very young. The family dynamic in 132's story matches his exactly: a mother, a father, a sister, the youngest son.

My first thought was, "Well, this can't be a parallel to Cecil's family. They're far too loving, which doesn't match up with what we know of Cecil's mother at all." But then I looked closer.

The boy's parents are verbally insistent that they love him, to the point where it comes off as "I'm your parent so I have to love you, it's my job to do everything for you." Putting pressure, and a sense of guilt, on the child while never actually living up to their word.

"He knew he would never need his father to give his life for him. He just wanted his father to show concern for his health. He knew he would never need his mother to give away all of her belongings for him. He just wanted his mother to show interest in his curiosity." - 132, Bedtime Story

His parent's love is very idealistic, while not being one that they actually show or.. Possibly, feel. They don't show concern for his health, or value his interests. He's their son, but he's not anything more.

"My mom seems really proud of me too! She hid from me for three days! Like, the longest ever! And she’s covered all the mirrors in my house. I’m not sure why, but I think it must be because of pride. Being proud does all sorts of things… to a… um… to a person." - 33, Cassettes

Cecil's own experiences parallel this. He interprets her love through ideals, to fill the void of it in actuality. When you're a child, you think that a parent is supposed to be loving. They're supposed to care. When they don't, or they leave you alone in your house, or they ignore you, or they tell you not to cry after you've been injured because "you don't even exist," your brain doesn't know how to process it. Like he did with his memory loss in 182, Cecil tries to rationalize it. Mother abandoned me because she's proud, because she cares about me- because she's my mother and she has to.

The boy's relationship with his sister parallels Cecil's as well.

"His sister would tell him, “I hate you, brother.” But their parents would instruct her to be nice and so she would say sarcastically, “I love you, brother. I would climb the tallest mountain for you." - 132, Bedtime Story

"He knew his sister really loved him. He knew he would never need his sister to climb a mountain for him. He just wanted his sister to believe him that mountains were real." - 132, Bedtime Story

As mentioned in Ghost Stories, Cecil has had a very difficult relationship with his sister.

"See, my mother disappeared when I was only 14. Abby had just started school, but she had to drop out to return home and raise me, and I thought that Mom would be back at any moment, like maybe she was away on business. Our out for a walk. Or just hiding.

But Mom did not come back, not for my entire childhood. And I was petulant and subversive, and Abby was reserved and controlling and she blamed me for having dropped out of school and I blamed her for just… not being Mom.

But in our adulthood, my mother did return home, sick and sorry to two children who barely spoke to each other in the morning." - Ghost Stories

Which would match up with the sister's animosity with him.

The difference here is that, out of the entire family, the boy knows that his sister actually loves him. And in Cecil's life, his sister is the only one he has made amends with. No matter how she treated him in the past, they are part of the same family once again. (As of 182, at least.)

Here, a direct parallel to Cecil is established. This boy's life mirrors his own.

Now, here's where it gets interesting.

Just as Cecil enters the tree, the boy is transformed into one

"He spent a lot of time in those next several months watching his family, their grief at his loss. His parents’ happiness at his sister’s education." - 132, Bedtime Story

There has been a lot of theorizing that Cecil's mother may have been covering the mirrors and leaving flowers because she was mourning Cecil, and not just his father.

"What was it your mother said before she left home when you were a teenager? Did she tell you she was an oracle?" - 171, Go to The Mirror?

It's entirely possible that Cecil's mother knew what would happen after she left, or had enough of an idea to subconsciously work it into a bedtime story.

It's possible that this is a glimpse of a timeline where Cecil really didn't survive entering the tree. His parents mourn, and his sister is allowed to pursue the education she wanted. (Which, in all honesty, a pretty cruel burden to place on Cecil's shoulders. It's not his fault that their mother disappeared, leaving Abby to take care of him.)

Next, we watch the boy slowly lose his humanity as his awareness widens outside of himself.

"Time slowed for him, and his knowledge grew so vast and so expansive, human triumphs and pains became only a small sliver of his interest. There were much larger systems to comprehend than humanity." - 132, Bedtime Story

Cecil is canonically one of the people in Night Vale that time slowed down for. Like Earl, he has been stuck at a certain age for a long, long time.

"He had forgotten what he used to be." - 132, Bedtime Story

Cecil has canonically lost large parts of his past. He no longer remembers them.

"Later that spring, the woman and the man and the child brought a picnic and some games, and the tree was happy, but could not comprehend why. Nor did the tree intend to. The tree was simply happy, and this was a feeling that existed. Years later, the family wore black again and cried. And the tree felt sad, but it did not connect this feeling to any kind of narrative. It was simply sad, and this was a feeling that existed." - 132, Bedtime Story

The boy tree is becoming incredibly distanced from his family. (A woman, man, and child, just like Abby, Steve, and Janice.)

"You know, Cecil and I first met at one of these things. Seems like we should have met earlier than that. I had dated his sister for a while. But Cecil’s busy, he- he serves his community. He really gives himself to his community. Who do you live for, you know? Who do you give yourself to? Those are questions we should all be asking ourselves." - Steve in 100, Toast

Steve confirmed that Cecil was distant from his family and the people around him before Carlos came along, burying himself in his job.

And then an angel cuts down the tree.

"Over a few days, the tree and the fruits and the separated stump died. But the tree retained everything. As its body was planted into boards, as its twigs were ground into mulch, the tree felt the knowledge of each seed it had planted across the valley, each creature it had nourished with its fruits, and each piece of lumber built into a home for generations of humans to come.

The tree felt its branches burned in a fireplace, and it rose up as smoke and dissipated into carbon across the sky, coming down in trillions of molecules to build more soil, more trees, more creatures. The boy could truly learn everything now, cell by cell." - 132, Bedtime Story

Cecil has given himself to his community. This boy, this tree, has been divided and used up as a resource, to serve the community in which he lived. Not to mention the fact that Cassettes Cecil died before becoming the Voice, like this boy/tree was cut down before he could serve/understand his community.

"Cecil, sweet Cecil. Whose life lies directly on the fault lines of this broken reality." - Huntokar in 109, Huntokar

Patching together:

- this quote from Huntokar that gives off the impression of Cecil as the glue keeping the fractures together, and

- the way that Leonard Burton, a deceased Voice, is brought back the moment that Cecil left town, filling the vacant spot, and

- the way that Night Vale fell apart when its citizens rejected their reality, and began to be patched back together along with the narration of their Voice

It all leads to:

The Voice of Night Vale is a significant, needed position.

It’s possible that he holds the fractured town together, in a way, his words reminding the citizens to keep their will and hold onto what is in front of them. (In the case that the cold light is the Smiling God, this gives it a motive. If it takes out Cecil, the town is left vulnerable for it to devour.)

Just like the tree, Cecil is used by his town.

His mother knew that he would become the Voice one day- it was prophesized. That’s the reason he was given the tape recorder, that’s the reason she told this story.

We still don’t know what was in the book in the table.

Then, this very interesting quote from 182:

“I’ve been in this job for a long time. Probably longer than I’ve been alive. I mean: you’ve been alive.”

He says the truth for a moment, then backs up because that doesn’t make sense to him. Coupled the way his mother’s story parallels Cecil’s, with boy becoming the tree, becoming a resource that serves the town and seeing all of it (similar to how Cecil knows what’s happening in the town and what its citizens are thinking without leaving his studio. See: every traffic report and episodes likes A Story About Them.) and Cecil mentioning the odd nature of his job in 182..

I think we’re about to learn exactly what it means to be the Voice.

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roseunspindle · 2 years ago

Text

Red Wolf Queen

Sansa goes to push Joffrey, and this time, in this world, the Hound doesn’t stop her and Joffrey screams delightfully on the way down.

She expects to die now. To be cut down, instead the Hound whirls and guts his fellow Kings Guard as they charge.

The men are strong, but they are not The Hound and he’s quick enough that it is over and done before anyone else is the wiser.

“What now, Little Bird?” he asks, and Sansa realizes something. She has a champion. Sandor will do as she commands. She should command that he sneak her out of the castle. That he return her to her family. But...she glances again at her father’s head, at poor Septa Mordanne who died to protect her. No.

“To the throne room.” She commands and while he defends her path, she is leading, head held high. The lions think they can cage her, her, a Stark of Winterfell! Robb is undoubtedly already on the march and by the Old Gods of the North, her home... She will have this city ready to welcome him.

Somehow, deciding to fight, and having even one supporter drives her on, happily the first person she’s sies is Lord Varys, excellent.

Varys isn’t happy, as Lord Eddard Stark was supposed to be sent off to the Wall, rescued by his son, and hopefully either close off the North or maybe return to take King Landing in the name of his friend Robert, possibly joining with Stannis, who while stodgy would probably make a decent enough king.

The Joffrey turned out to be madder than even he or Cersei herself realized.

With this in mind when Sansa Stark comes stalking towards the throne room, The Hound at her side and fury in her eyes, he waits to see how this will go.

“Lord Varys” (her voice has never been so strong) “I have executed (the hound snorts) the false king Joffrey Baratheon in the memory of my father Lord Eddard Stark, and in justice for the late King Robert Baratheon. It is my intention now to proceed to also hold the Queen Mother, Cersei Lannister, accountable for the untimely death of the King. Pray, will you be my aide in the name of justice and the realm.”

Varys is confounded. Of course, of course a mind and spirit like that, would be hiding away inside sweet and gentle little Sansa Stark. She means to do it and he bows his head and follows her. He’s uncertain how one girl-child, and her apparently now loyal dog intend to do this but if she can, well, he doesn’t mind supporting her.

What follows is very hard to explain, but is comes about as Sansa Stark walking into the throne room, escorted by the hound and himself (he realizes his presence means the remainder of the king’s guard aren’t properly wary and no noble thinks to waylay her...

So she marches straight to the Iron Throne, climbs the stairs to the sudden gasps and seats herself upon it as though she does so everyday.

“I, Sansa Stark of House Stark, in the name of my father, Lord Eddard Stark and in the name of King Robert Baratheon have dispatched the bastard Joffrey Waters and do hereby submit to the Lords and Ladies of the court, do you truly wish more Lannister bastards upon the Throne? Do you wish Cersei to pull the strings even now? For Lord Tywin to come and have the Mountain run rabid in your lands? Will you bow to House Lannister? House Baratheon was who had rights to the throne. Stand now, as loyal vassals to the rightful king, Stannis Baratheon, do not let my father have died in vain, nor let the Lannister’s continue to rule from the shadows.”

“You men of the Kingsguard? Shall you strike me further? (Ser Areys Oakheart looked at the ground) Your former leader, Ser Barristen Selmy was dishonored and exiled all for the fact that he might have learned the truth, or that he might again ignore the death of a mad king.”

Somehow, her commanding presence, the fact that she was already on the damn throne, the fierceness of the hound, and the fact that the members of the king’s guard who had been both loyal to Ser Barristen and equally wished to serve with honor, walked forward and knelt at the Throne. Many of the nobles, who would rather not actually have the Lannister’s, bastards or no, in power and pulled forward. This is not backroom dealing; this is not someone already at the executioner’s block this is someone on the Throne. They bow.

Cersei tries to fight, when she arrives, drug in by Sansa’s now loyal guards, but when Sansa points out that she has Tommen and Myrcella, and if Cersei capitulates, she need only mourn one child.

- - -

The second letter Robb would receive from Sansa was much different that her Cersei dictated one, again in her own hand but also her own voice. Robb grins and sets about destroying the Lannisters with renewed vigor.

---

The Tyrells sense the winds change and Olenna curses her useless family (mostly Loras) for following Renly.... Oh well, time to make back up plans.

---

Stannis receives the Stark Girls raven in both shock, and a small measure of happiness. She was sitting as “Regent in Place of the late hand of the king, my Father.”

It was absurd, yet it was by all reports, true.

-----

It would be nice if all went well, But Renly is determined to be King, and Stannis still kills him if with a shadow monster wrought of Melisandre.

Brienne is bereft with grief and she and Loras form an unlikely alliance and seek revenge for their beloved. Stannis does not survive. Queen Selyse goes a bit mad or her husbands loss and attacks Melisandre for failing to see it coming. The pair struggle and Melisandre kills Selyse but does not have the attention for Davos who runs her through from behind.

Shireen truly has no wish to be Queen. In her one act as heir to the throne, she surrenders it by ‘right of conquest” to Sansa Stark. Sansa writes back agreement and her sympathies for her loss, and names her Lady Shireen Baratheon of the Storm Lands. Shireen accepts and she names Davos her regent.

----

With stern letters from Sansa, who is currently ruling Kings Landing, Robb manages to not muck things up and does not turn to Jeyne Westerling in a moment of idiocy. He is able to keep his word to marry Roslin Frey. So his wedding is a success, and no one dies. Well, except Walder Frey who chokes to death on some unexpectedly tough mutton. No one seems unhappy by this.

Catelyn does not release Jamie Lannister, as Sansa is safe. Instead she has sent a few people from House Reed to seek out Arya, who is found fairly unhurt and with an unfortunate retinue of street urchins she refuses to be parted with.

----

The people of King’s Landing feel pulled all over the place, but at the very least, Sansa Stark seems to a.) know they exist and b.) seems intent on ensuring they have food and even improving their lot.

It doesn’t hurt that she is sweet and kind and doesn’t seem to be angry about the cheering her fathers death bit....

----

Robb is very, very pleased the day he is able to march to kings landing to present Tywin Lannister’s head to Sansa. She smiles, looking regal on the throne, a crown atop her head. (Shireen “surrendered” the throne to Sansa specifically, thus Sansa is the actual Queen, though of Six Kingdoms, not Seven as she agrees to let the north become it’s own kingdom.

----

Varys is pleased, if terribly confused by all this. Nothing went quite to plan, but he’s grateful as from the reports of Daenerys had not left him feeling optimistic about her not being her father come again.

Barristen Selmy ended up not heading to Essos, instead returning in hopes of being given his old post back and is accepted gently and warmly by the (at the time regent).

---

Sansa knows she must have heirs and at least for awhile, Rickon stands as such. But she knows she must wed, if only to stop the bickering and (the endless courting) who’d have thought she’d get tired of that? Turns out when one has six kingdoms to run, some things become less appealing.

----

She does offend her mother, first by pardoning Tyrion Lannister and permitting his to return as Lord Protector to Casterly Rock, after his fathers death, Tommen and Myrcella in tow. (They mourn their mother and are confused as to whether they are even allowed to mourn Robert Baratheon, who had always to them been their father....) They do not hate or blame Sansa though...

Jaime is sent to the wall, to live there in service for the rest of his life.

-----

It is Prince Oberyn Martel whom Sansa find herself agreeing to marry. The man had only wished for Ellia’s killers to be brought to justice, he himself joins the Hound and they hunt down the Mountain themselves by order of Queen Sansa.

Oberyn has no wish for a throne, nor any notion that he might be superior to Sansa just because she’s a woman. He vows to lead her armies, to strike her foes down and do his best to supply her with as many daughters as she wishes. (All he has are daughters, so he is not too certain about his ability to give her sons).

#rambling fic thing #i want sansa to push joffrey #hee #and hey #what is fanfic for but to make wishes come true #game of thrones

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warrioreowynofrohan · 3 years ago

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Today in Tolkien - September 25th

Today gets two full chapters of Fellowship of the Ring: “A Short Cut to Mushrooms” and “A Conspiracy Unmasked.”

Sam is particularly affected by his conversation with the elves, and seems to have gained a perspective that will stay with him through the whole of the quest:

I don’t know how to say it, but after last night I feel different. I seem to see ahead, in a kind of way. I know we are going to take a very long road, into darkness; but I know I can’t turn back. It isn’t to see Elves now, nor dragons, nor mountains, that I want - I don’t rightly know what I want: but I have something to do before the end, and it lies ahead, not in the Shire. I must see it through, sir, if you understand me.

It seems as though Sam has had an almost Elvish glimpse of foresight; this memory comes back far later, at the very darkest parrt of the journey, when he thinks that Frodo is dead in Cirith Ungol:

And then he remembered his own voice speaking words that at the time he did not understand himself, at the beginning of their journey: I have something to do before the end. I must see it through, sir, if you understand.

…“What am I to do then?” he cried again, and now he seemed plainly to know the hard answer: see it through. Another lonely journey, and the worst.

And so he takes upon himself the Ring, and the quest to Mount Doom, and as a result prevents Sauron from getting it. The seeds of that pivotal moment are sown in this chance-meeting with elves.

Looking at the map of the Shire at the start of The Fellowship of the Ring, it seems like the hobbits’ ‘short cut’ today takes them south from near Woodhall to the upper parts of the Stockbrook; dowmstream along the Stockbrook a ways, and then south across it before it’s fully exited the forest of Woody End; then, accidentally, south (rather than west) through a part of Woody End. But I’m not sure about that; if it’s accurate, they spend a large part of the day getting quite turned around and heading south rather than east. But Farmer Maggot only lives about five miles from Bucklebury Ferry, so the hobbits must have managed to walk most of the way there, and by Frodo’s estimate it would have been 18 miles even without getting turned around.

At any rate, Frodo is probably prudent in deciding to stay off the road, as they have three more encounters (well, two sightings and one hearing) with Black Riders, to add to the two the previous day - one shortly after they start out, one in the afternoon when they are in the woods, and the one that they see from the far side of the Brandywine just after getting off Bucklebury Ferry.

This chapter (and the last one, with Gildor’s people) is a strong illustration of the importance Tolkien places on friendship and kindness and unexpected help. Not for Tolkien the ‘lone hero against the world’ story! (Indeed, those who insist on isolating themselves are almost always acting out of pride, and are almost always corrupted.) The hobbits only escape the Black Riders thanks to the aid first of the elves and later of Farmer Maggot, who drives them to the ferry; and Frodo and Sam would have been much worse off the later parts of their journey if Merry and Pippin hadn’t insisted on coming along. Later there’s Bombadil, and then Aragorn, and Glorfindel, and later Galadriel, and Treebeard, and Faramir. And while a few of these meetings - Glorfindel, who was spent specifically to seek them, and Lothlórien - are planned, most are not. Providence in Middle-earth seems to work in large part through ‘chance-meeting’, just as it did with Gandalf and Thorin immediately before the events of The Hobbit (recounted in “The Quest of Erebor” in Unfinished Tales). Even in the Silmarillion such chance-meetings have great importance, as between Finrod and the Beorings or Beren and Lúthien. They are quite clearly intended to be understood as more than mere chance.

And I love Merry’s statement on friendship when they insist on coming with Frodo:

You can trust us to stick to you through thick and thin - to the bitter end. And you can trust us to keep any secret of yours - closer than you keep it yourself. But you cannot trust us to let you face trouble alone, and go off without a word. We are your friends, Frodo.

I’ve read the books more times than I can count, and I still can’t decipher the meaning of Frodo’s dream at the end:

He seemed to looking out of a high window over a dark sea of tangled trees. Down below among the roots there was a sound of creatures crawling and snuffling. He felt sure they would smell him out sooner or later.

Then he heard a noise in the distance. At first he thought it was a great wind coming over the leaves of the forest. Then he knew that it was not leaves, but the sound of the Sea far-off; a sound he had never heard in waking life, though it had often troubled his dreams. Suddenly he found he was in the open. There were no trees after all. He was on a dark heath, and thete was a strange salt smell in the air. Looking up he saw before him a tall white tower, standing alone on a high ridge. A great desire cam over him to climb the tower and see the Sea. He started to struggle up the ridge towards the tower: but suddenly a light came into the sky, and there was a noise of thunder.

It’s possible that the first part of the dream is conveying Gandalf imprisoned in Orthanc. The second part, Frodo’s dream of climbing a tower and seeing the sea, may be related to where he will be three years hence, on his journey to the Grey Havens. This journey lasts from September 22nd to 29th, so by the they are likely west of the Shire by the 25th:

… going about the south skirts of the White Downs, they came to the Far Downs, and to the Towers, and looked on the distant Sea.

The Prologue to FOTR mentions that:

Three Elf-towers of immemorial age were still to be seen on the Tower Hills beyond the western marches. They shone far off in the moonlight. The tallest was furthest away, standing upon a green mound. The Hobbits of the Westfarthing said that one could see the Sea from the top of that tower; but no hobbit had ever been known to climb it.

#today in tolkien #tolkien #the lord of the rings #frodo baggins #sam gamgee #merry brandybuck #the silmarillion #the hobbit

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tsukishumai · 4 years ago

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HELLO! i was wondering if your requests are open,,, if they are can i pls request prompt 44 from angst with oikawa??? THANK YOUUU!!!. p.s the kita angst broke me i- TT

HELLO!! Yes, requests are open, tysm for requesting something! 💘 & aw I’m sorry haha, I wasn’t too confident abt that one so to hear that u liked it makes me uwu 🥺 hope u like this one!

Send me a prompt + ur fav character here :)

44. “What am I in your life? Because as of lately I feel as though I’ve been nothing to you.”

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: Eek, again I suck at angst so I apologize if this is terrible <3

You really only had one goal in life, and that was to be successful. There was no nuance to it, no specific path you intended to follow. Hell, even which career you wanted for yourself was up in the air. But all of those things were just minor details. Regardless of whichever mountain you decide to climb, you had every intention of sitting yourself right at the very top.

It was only natural to want to be the best, isn’t it? You couldn’t think of one good reason why you should be satisfied with anything other than first place. That’s why out of all the applicants, you were the one awarded a scholarship to the prestigious Aoba Johsai. It wasn’t a stroke of luck, nor an answered prayer; and it truly irked you when people tried demeaning all your efforts by simply boiling it down to happenstance. You studied your ass off, spent days and nights with your nose buried in a book or camped out in a library, and in the end it paid off.

Not a lot of people understood. If people were trying to be nice, they would say you were just ambitious. But if people were trying to be mean, they would call you shrewd and cold. None of those things mattered to you either way; the view of their upturned faces as you looked down on them from your pedestal provided you enough fuel to warm your lonely nights.

It’s not that you didn’t value friendship; you managed to cultivate a few acquaintances, and it’s not like you sat by yourself a lunch. But high school just felt so arbitrary; Aoba Johsai was just one of many steps towards your future, what was the point in forming connections with people you would probably never have met if not for the fact you were all born around the same time? You watched as your classmates settled into their cliques, formed their little groups, and - as much as any high schooler could - fall in love.

You didn’t hate love. You just didn’t see the point, really. You saw the way some of your friends start obsessing over their significant other; friendships start to break, grades start to slip, mental health goes on the decline. Why would you want that? Not after spending all your time in setting up the foundation for yourself; there wasn’t a single part of yourself that you were willing to give to anyone else.

So why was it you were standing in front of Oikawa Tooru, eyes nearly swollen shut from the tears that forged a streaky path down the planes of your cheeks, snot disgracefully dripping from your nostrils as you desperately choked back a sob?

“How long have you known?” You asked, but you weren’t prepared for the answer.

“A year,” he mumbled shamefully, unable to even look you in the eye. If you did, you would see tears of his own threatening to spill, but at the moment all you saw was red.

“You’ve known... for a year?”

“Y/N,” Oikawa attempted to reach out to you, but you stepped back and slapped his hand away.

“Is this why you’ve been blowing me off lately,” you whispered, Oikawa’s odd behavior finally beginning to click in heard.

You haven’t felt the touch of Oikawa’s hands in weeks; the very same ones that always reached out for you, guiding you to exactly where you need to be with their permanent presence on the small of your back. His eyes that always seems to be able find you in any crowd were downcast, shifted away until you forgot what it felt like to melt under their intensity.

At first, you simply chalked it up to his devastating loss against his oh so beloved kohai. Nationals had been a dream of Oikawa’s that will now never come into fruition. You, of all people, knew the overwhelming heartache of coming up short. It was his passion and dedication to the sport that drew you to him, after all.

But after weeks of near radio silence, you start to feel yourself begin to unravel. Had you done something wrong? Was he still this upset about the loss? Is there something more you could to help alleviate some of his stress? Is he starting to lose interest in you? Maybe he doesn’t find you attractive anymore?

These were thoughts that would never have even had the chance to cross your mind before. Now, the lack of sleep and uneasiness building in your chest had you two seconds away from bursting.

Instead, you felt your whole existence deflate when you had been handed back your first failing grade. The angry red marks began to swim in your peripherals, wondering how you could possibly have let yourself fallen this far.

You had one goal. One clear goal. Now, your vision had been expertly muddled by wavy brown hair and bright teal volleyball shorts.

“And you just made this decision without even thinking of me?” Your voice cracked at the last accusatory word of your question, growing increasingly irritated Oikawa’s unusual silence.

It’s infuriating the more you thought about it, really. You didn’t want this. You never wanted any of this. You just wanted to graduate high school at the top of your class, get into a good college, and start working your way up in the world. You were content to stay in your little bubble if it meant that you’d be able to achieve your dreams.

But Oikawa was Oikawa. He was simply too bright to ignore. And like Icarus to the sun, you thought yourself invincible until you flew close enough to burn from his radiance.

“What am I in your life?” You spat out, and the words left a bitter taste in your mouth, “Because as of lately I feel as though I’ve been nothing to you.”

Oikawa’s head snapped up, anguish stamped on his features as he desperately said, “You’re not nothing to me!”

“Then how could you do this?” You pleaded, disgusted at your pathetic groveling.

Oikawa shook his head, as if begging you to understand. “It’s not about what or how much you mean to me. I have to do this for myself and my future.”

It was so ironic, it made you livid.

Oikawa Tooru had successfully wedged himself into your life, deconstructing your walls brick by brick, gracing you with the warmth of his presence and the ardor of his love.

Only so he could be face to face as he drove the knife into your heart himself, allowing you a taste of pseudo happiness until it was time for him to take it away.

“Good luck in Argentina, Oikawa.”

His eyes widened at use of his last name, panic shooting across his features as he tried to stop you from leaving.

“Wait, Y/N -“

“Good bye.”

And you knew it wasn’t fair to him. You knew he was only doing what he felt was right, you understood that much too perfectly. It was irrational of you to shed tears over the most logical choice for Oikawa to make. You should be supportive, you knew that. But the embittered thought of being left behind was just too heavy to bear.

You walked away and never looked back, leaving behind two broken hearts.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ��　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

(You look up at the sky as an airplane left trails of clouds that blasted through a sunset painted with pastel pinks and purple hues.

You briefly wondered if this plane was taking Oikawa Tooru back home.

It never is.)

#oikawa toru #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa angst #oikawa toru angst #oikawa imagine #oikawa fic #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! scenarios #hq #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu angst #hq hc #haikyuu imagines

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some-dr-writings · 4 years ago

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Izuru, Hajime, and Kirumi x SHSL Military General

Izuru Kamukura:

· Boring. That was what he had thought of you at first. You had no new talent he didn’t… and yet, despite your fearsome rumors, it seemed all those under your command adored you. He already knew it was not the cliché case of ‘oh you just need to get to know them’ nor you were secretly going about your work in a cult like fashion. No, there was something else, and he decided to snuff it out.

· “It’s been several days now. If you wish something of me you need but speak, or at the least walk by my side. How much longer do you plan on tailing me?” You stopped in your tracks, turning around to face the man who was but a few paces behind. Both your expressions perfectly stoic, blank. “As long as it takes to find out why everyone loves you. That was my initial objective. But you’re boring. You’re nurturing. Your tone alone is enough to compel others to follow your lead, to not disappoint you out of respect. Now… I want to know why you’re different from me.” You needed but a glance to find your answer. “The difference… I thought a being exactly akin to myself, a person made to be a weapon would already know that.” You walked a few paces, stopping right before him. It was as if he were a statue, not moving at all as you cupped your hand on his cheek, the smallest, softest, kindest of smiles pulling at the corners of your lips. “Good luck old friend. Even with a luck talent you’ll need it.” You then walked away, Izuru following just a few paces behind.

· “Come now. If you’re going to stick around, work out with me. Surely, you’ve figured out by now that simply observing me, you’ll not get the answers you’re seeking.” Still, Izuru simply stood beside you as you were finishing your pushups atop that mountain with the sky just barely starting to show the signs of a new day beginning. “Why do you speak with me casually, unlike all others? You don’t even speak this way with those you call friends.” “I simply find it natural to speak this way with one so harmless. Just as I find it natural to speak with others in a more formal tone.” “… Harmless.” Hopping up from your pushups you began your climb back down the treacherous mountain. “You find Komaeda to be a weapon of mass destruction, and me, harmless? That’s incomprehensible.” “To you, perhaps.” You kept going for a few moments before deciding to give him some extra help. “You’re an innocent child, myself before I became who I am now, before I rejected the idiotic notion of a weapon being more powerful than man.”

· He pondered over that brief conversation for a long time. Man being more powerful than a weapon. He knew you were not speaking of how man creates weapons and are the ones who use them, so…

· “Oh! Hey, Y/N! So, your sidekick finally decided to join us!” The first day Izuru had begun to follow you, you stopped him when going for those nightly training sessions saying he would either participate or go away because you were not going to allow any bystanders. All nights after he’d disappear at some point as you made your way to meet up with Kaito and the others. But he stayed by your side that night, training with the others, giving you and Maki a run for your money when it came to endurance in these exercises.

· “You’re making everyone uncomfortable just standing in the corner. Come play with us.” Izuru did as told and joined the card game you were playing with your classmates.

· “Izuru, teach them how to set up the stall, while I take care of matters here.” He helped out your class set up for the school festival.

· “Huh…” Truthfully you were half expecting Izuru to show up to the beach his usual suit and not swim trunks, let alone playing volleyball with the others already.

· The others had already left back for school, the field trip long done, but you stayed behind to fit in some of your own exercises… Izuru did as well. “So, finally out of your emotionless emo phase, or are you still insisting everything is boring?” “… I thought by copying you I’d find why we’re different.” “And have you?” “…” He actually thought about it for a moment an answer not immediately puzzled out in his mind. “I’m still gathering information.” “I see.” Seems he was growing up faster than you did, then again you didn’t have anyone to help guide you.

· For a long time you continued your stretches. “I must admit though, I thought it’d take longer before you’d take this first step.” You stopped, beginning to jog in place, slowly picking up your pace. “This world, with how awful it is, I still find it boring myself at times. But that’s not the good part of it all. Being alive. I’m anticipating to see what you’ll find in people. For me, it’s not a certain aspect of them, but everything. True, humans are creatures of patterns, but focusing on the individual… seeing them as people and not objects, or weapons, or patterns… seeing what they actually are…Connecting… that’s my answer at least, why I gave up being you, a husk intended to be a weapon. Humans no matter how they try, can’t be anything other than human. A human being… strange and funny creatures I find us to be at least.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, lightly chuckling to yourself. “Be sure to tell me when you find your answer. I’m sure someone skilled in more than war will find something I could never hope too, and that sounds exciting to me. But for now, back to training.”

· Then you dashed away, down the shore, to that brilliantly bright sunset.

· And he ran. He didn’t even think about it. He was still unsure of what he was doing or what exactly he was searching for, but… something inside him was calling out to you, he just knew he needed to be with you. So he was going to keep chasing after you and perhaps one day, he’d figure it out and finally walk beside you.

Hajime Hinata:

· To Hajime, each and every last person who manage to be invited to the academy was an amazing person. How else could they be described? They were individuals who all had already changed the word in some way or another, but there was one individual who arguably made the largest impact to the world, more than any present or past student, the Super High School Level Military General. Nothing of their personage was known, a complete mystery, not even their name. They were solely known for their accomplishments, a child, seemingly appearing out of nowhere quickly rose up through the ranks, becoming a general, and swiftly putting an end to any war they touched. Wars still appeared, but not long and they’d appear putting it to an end with little life being lost, most countries began fighting in less direct ways because of this. What else could they do? The fighting did stop, but not the conflicts that were the root of them. Still, putting an end to so much fighting so quickly was unimaginable to most. Some say their appearance only made conflict worse, some say they saved the world. No matter what one thought, it was undeniable the Super High School Military General left an unmistakable impact that had forever changed the world.

· And such an amazing person, was the very first friend he had made at the academy, despite him just being a reserve course student.

· He didn’t even know who they were at first. The school year hadn’t technically started yet, but students were allowed on campus to move their belongings into their dorm rooms and such and that was exactly what Hajime was doing. He didn’t have much, so he was finished quickly and decided to just walk around for a bit. He found himself just looking at the main building off in the distance. So close, yet so far away, just barely out of reach seemingly when he knew deep down, he truly was nowhere close. Then suddenly he spotted something. Not far, just within reach.

· “Is the vending machine jammed?” “Not as far as I know.” Hajime looked to the machine in confusion, not noticing anything off with it, so why were you just standing before it? “What do you recommend?” Though you hadn’t done much something about how you looked to him, how your voice seemed to resonate in him, he was taken aback for a moment before collecting himself, quickly looking over the options. “Well… I like the orange ramune.” He pointed to it, showing exactly where it was. Not saying a word you placed in some yen and pressed the button for it. How you carried yourself mesmerized him. He couldn’t quite place his finger on why though. It was stiff yet seemed effortless. A rather strange combination to him. Before he knew it you had the drink and… were just looking at it, flipping it around. You had taken off the cap but seemed lost as to what to do next. “There’s a plunger in the cap, you take that out and place it on top where the cap was.” You followed his instructions without question. “Then you push it down, releasing the marble and there you go.” You seemed surprised, your eyes widening a little as the soda kinda exploded as it usually did when being opened. Then you held it out to him? “I can tell you haven’t drunk anything in the past several hours. Take it.” “Oh, thanks.”

· Your whole demeanor seemed off, somewhat alien. As you got yourself another drink, he couldn’t help but ask- “Are you a foreigner? This soda is rather common in Nippon.” “I suppose one could say that of me.” … Well, that was a strange response. “Seems like we’ve both had a long day. I saw an arcade nearby. Want to just relax and hangout there for a while?” You looked to him in what he assumed was surprise, you didn’t seem very expressive, but he could still see these small shifts in your eyes. For a moment, when he had asked, they seemed to sparkle. “Certainly, lead the way.”

· The pair of you had a rather fun outing to the arcade. So much of… well everything you seemed unaccustomed too. “What’s this?” “The prize corner? We can win tickets to trade for stuff here.” “Huh… so a transfer of currency, to test skill, to gain a new currency…” Even rather basic things. “How did you do that?” “Do what?” “Make that bubble from your mouth?” “I just blew a bubble with the bubblegum.” “There exists food to blow into bubbles?” Hajime wondered if you grew up extremely sheltered. If that was the case, you were probably from an extremely rich family considering you’d have to pour so much money to get into the reserve course. He felt rather sorry for you. “Have you been to the movies before?” “Never.” “We could go watch some if you’d like, get some more candy and some popcorn.” “I know not if I’d like it, never having experienced it before, but I am curious.” “Let’s go then!”

· For the next several days Hajime would find you around campus and you’d just go out and have fun in the town. Strangely though, he never saw you at the dorms. He did most often find you exercising so he assumed you just woke up very early.

· You sat beside him on a bench, passing an orange ramune his way. “So Y/N, feeling ready for class to start tomorrow?” “Yes, I’ve made all necessary preparations and more.” “Still doesn’t feel real that I’m even here, I think it will be a few days till this sinks in.” “… Hinata.” “Yes?” “When class stars… Well, before I ask how schools work, I find a matter more pressing. Will we still spend time together when class starts, like going to the mall, or the park together?” “Of course, we’re friends. Sure, we might get busy with schoolwork sometimes, but we can make time. If you’d like we could study together.” You were silent for a moment, mulling over his words as you took a sip of your soda. “friend…” It was strange to hear that new tone. There was no power or commend to it, it was but a faint unconscious whisper to yourself. “I wonder if we’ll have separate curriculums since we’ll be in different classes.” You knew you’d be in different classes. Maybe you were taking advanced courses or something. That was what Hajime had assumed at least. “Maybe, but we still have break and lunch to chat, we just can’t go out. At least we have holidays.” “Yes, we do have break and lunch. Then you’d be alright if I schedule to spend my breaks with you?” “I don’t mind.”

· “… Thank you Hin-… Friend. I give you my thanks, Friend. For being my friend… I’ve never had one before. There are so many things I know not, but I intend for you to know I’ll do my utmost to keep improving. You’ve… changed my view on things in such a short amount of time. I find it remarkable.” The new spring breeze rolled past, carrying along the fresh scent of flowers. The sun beamed down, warming the cool world. “Ah, I haven’t done much, but I’m glad knowing our time together means so much to you.” “It’s strange… getting the chance to live as a teenager. Never before have I had the opportunity to be anything over than a military general.” Wait… military general? “For as long as I can recall, I’ve been molded to be a weapon and nothing more. I was the top candidate in the project, which allowed me access, well more so forcibly having me join the army. I believed myself to be unfeeling, emotionless for a time. After all, the soldiers could react with horror and fear at taking life, even celebrating when a battle was won, but I didn’t, to me, it just seemed to be more training. I only ever perceived humans as more targets. That was all my existence was, fighting. But as I was trained to be smart, tactical, I had noticed their reactions. I could not relate to them, but I could sympathize with them. I thought I knew not emotional pain, only physical, but somewhere in my mind I made the connection of physical, mental, and emotional pain as all one in the same. I could not understand them directly, but at the time I knew pain was bad, and so that was what started me beginning to see humans as people, more than bags of flesh. I listened to their stories of their friends, family, and loved ones. I did not understand directly, but I knew then I wanted to protect them, just as they wanted to protect their families, and so I began to think of them as my friends. The project runners soon caught on to my realizing I was human too, and began to torture me to make me believe humans were nothing but bad… bad, good, black, white, they had such an archaic, rudimentary view of life, it’s pitiful. As I realized the humans I worked with were people, I realized those we were fighting were exactly the same. We’re all human, all people, people with causes and more importantly others to fight for… Even if I was but an outsider looking in, not truly able to understand, I knew with all that was thrust onto me I was going to change the system. Be a humanitarian. Save all I could. I would mold my soldiers not in my image, but make them strong enough so they can protect others and themselves even without my leadership, to draw out their true strength from being human… but now…” You looked to the ramune bottle you held. “Before I saw humanity, but now I’ve experienced it, even if but a fraction.” You turned to him, cupping your hand on his cheek, the smallest, softest, kindest of smiles pulling at the corners of your lips. “Simply doing things others do everyday I find so exciting, but something I found with my soldiers, hearing their stories of their loved ones, connecting with them, and now, connecting with you, connecting with other human beings… I think this is the best part of being alive. You’ve shown me the world from a new perspective. I can now finally understand. I had some semblance of it before, but… I was still fighting, not… whatever not fighting is, what you’ve shown me, playing at an arcade and watching movies. THIS is what they were all so desperate to protect. I just wanted them to live, but I didn’t know what being alive was. And so… I suppose I fear us not getting to have our outings as often. This, being friends with you… It’s the most… My vocabulary has failed me, I can’t even begin to describe this, but, I will do whatever it takes for you to not just see, but understand how much I appreciate and treasure all that you have done for me… You are my very first friend after all. I want to treat you right. And I will.”

· “Wait… so, you’re the Super High School Level Military General?” “That is a title I have been christened recently, but it is not all I am. After all, I’ve more recently gained the title as your friend.” This… was a lot for Hajime to take it. Now he felt a bit weird about telling you so much about his adoration for Hope’s Peak and it’s students, who you were one of, how he wished he could belong there and not just paid to be on the side lines. Yet… despite you being one of those students… he was just talking to his friend… remembering that made this feel less awkward, though a little embarrassing still.

· It was strange having the stares of his classmates as they just watched him eating with you, to the point you’d often walk around till you found a quieter place to just enjoy your time together in peace.

· You’d still hangout outside of school, it was both of your favorite time together. You could just be together and be happy without this strange divide that others forced between you two.

ENDING 1:

· When Hajime befriended Chiaki and her class, he dragged you along, helping you to connect with the others. You both became honorary members of the class.

· These connections were things you were never going to allow to fade, making sure to regularly keep in contact with everyone even after graduating.

· With the world having relative peace you retired, working as a personal trainer. You’d come out of retirement temporarily if a new war sprung up, but you always ended it quickly with as little life lost as possible… “Ah, Y/N, you’re back!” “I said I’d be, didn’t I?” Your face instantly flushed a bright red upon Hajime hugging you so tightly. “You took much longer than usual, I thought something had happened.” “A-ah… I…” ... happily returning to your husband and your peaceful life together. This was all both you and Hajime wanted, and you were happy just to be together.

ENDING 2:

· Even still, no matter how much you tried, you just seemed to be naturally pulled to separate worlds, the staff always causing trouble for Hajime when he’d go to see you, only for you to end up defending him. Moments like these…

· His mind was a blur, he couldn’t hold onto a single thought, and so he went out for a walk, hoping the fresh air could clear his mind.

· “Friend.” “Oh, Y/N-” He turned around, finding you were but a few paces behind him. “- you startled me.” You were stoic, standing there stiffly, the only movement was the wind lifting up pieces of your uniform. “You want to talk about something?” “Indeed. The Kamukura project… What’s with that expression, surely one such as I would know of an experiment such as this.” “Y-yeah, I guess so.” “I but wish you to place my mind at ease, after all… I’ve never trained you, you’re not my soldier, I… know not if you’ll be safe on your own, so… I wish to know if you are informed as to what you’ll be doing from kin, one who has attempted to be molded into a weapon as well.” He looked you up and down, searching for something, though he wasn’t sure what himself. Then he nodded. “By partaking in this project, you may never return to now. They may attempt to make you a weapon, but that will not come to be. Friend, should you follow my path, I still will not take you in as a soldier for you have no need of such. They will say you’re someone entirely new, and that you may be. I know not the consequences of one following my path after being allowed to be human for so long. Likely for a time, you will know nothing but fighting, you may have to relearn what it is to be human, is that a process you are willing to go through? It is one I in fact am still stumbling through.” “… Yeah. I know you say all life has meaning, that everyone matters, but… I want to do more!” “And I shall never stop you from any endeavor for self-improvement. That is not my intention here.” You held out your hand to him. “I but wish that after you follow me, you catch up so we may walk side by side once more.” “Of course. Whatever happens next, I know I’ll be alright, I have my friend with me.” Taking your hand into his own he could feel the warmth that seeped through your glove. “Well then…” With an outstretched arm you presented Hope’s Peak. “Shall we be off?” “Yes.”

· You followed Hajime, but a few paces behind till he stood before those doors off limits to most staff and all students but him. He looked over his shoulder having herd your steady footfalls come to a stop. You both knew you could follow him no longer. This next step he’d have to take on his own, but it was alright, he knew he’d be lost and run after you for a while, but in the end, he’d be someone better, someone who could not only walk beside you, but keep in time and never fall behind. No more chasing after you or leading you around. This time around, you could truly keep in time with one another.

Kirumi Tojo:

· Kirumi had met you through Korekiyo, he introduced the two of you thinking you’d make for good friends given how similar you were. You both lived to serve others, to make them as great of people as they could be. Kirumi admired the lengths you’d go for your soldiers, keeping mental and emotional health in mind, not just physical. All you wished was for your soldiers to be even greater than yourself so that together the whole world could be a safe place. Being your maid was something she had considered, but you were perfectly fine on your own, even being able to work on self-improvement without the assistance of others. Surely being your maid, she’d be able to an extent serve and help many others but given you absolutely couldn’t find someone like her to be of use, she became your friend instead.

· Whenever the pair of you had free time, you’d share stories of the past. On occasion you’d trade advice, but the both of you felt it almost wrong to assist one another. You both loved helping others, but also valued self-improvement above all else which included your own improvement. Both of you were simply so self-reliant any assistance would simply be a hindrance from improving yourself in some way. Even so, your chats together were your favorite. You both understood one another in ways most others simply could not even begin to comprehend.

· You always spent time with one another when you were taking breaks. Taking breaks was vitally important, even for workaholics such as yourselves. You both would change your schedule so they could align. Often, you’d make a day of it, going out and trying something Hajime had shown you recently such as going for a walk through a botanical garden, going to the cinema, or just lazing about on the beach. These were rather awkward but fun excursions, the both of you not exactly sure how to relax in a way similar to others. Often the awkwardness could looked back on with laughter at how silly it’d look to others.

· By chance the pair of you had but a short break for an hour or so you’d most often exercise, something light for you like a thousand push-ups or curl-ups and other such things while Kirumi would speak of her past experiences as a maid. One time it’d be how she saved he client from a literal army, the next being about her setting up a whole wedding due to the caterer just being plain awful at their job. You’d so curiously ask her questions such as what catering was or how to bake a cake so you could gave one to one of our classmate’s for their up coming birthday. Kirumi loved answering your every last question, it was one of the few things she could do to truly help you without getting in the way. She’d eagerly teach you any and all skills you were unfamiliar with, and you rather liked knowing Kirumi was enjoying this so much. You’d think of any possible skill you were lacking and asked her to be your teacher and in exchange you’d teach her battle and fighting tactics even she didn’t know.

· You adored being able to help one another, and you’d search out excuses to do so.

· “So what you’re saying is you’re out of work.” “Indeed.” “Meet me at the front gate, sixteen o’clock.” That was all that needed to be said for the both of you to be there right on time, down to the exact second. Not a word was exchanged as you lead her down the streets through town. Though you enjoyed your chats with one another, you didn’t speak too often. Speaking wasn’t needed to build a connection with one another. Being together was enough most of the time.

· “Hey General.” “There you are Y/N, oh Tojo? So Y/N brought you here too, that’s why they’re late today.” Kirumi found herself in a rather cozy building, many people with various injuries, along with Shuichi as well. Most of them sat at one main table where biscuits and tea sat on a platter. “So this is the General’s other new friend. Come in, come in. Everybody’s welcome to the drop-in center. Come have some tea and share some stories.” “The Generals says you have quite the yarns to tell.” Both you and Shuichi knew what was to come next. “If you so wish. And if the tea is low, I shall make more.” Kirumi immediately made herself at home, serving all the ex-soldiers so attentively. You and Shuichi simply started some training while everyone else ooed and awed at Kirumi and her skills in seemingly everything. It was fun for the pair of you to see the others amazed by the girl both of you were used too, no longer surprised by anything she could do, she could take over the whole galaxy and neither of you would bat an eye, to the both of you she could do anything.

· Due to the both of you being rather stoic neither of you ever really confessed your feelings. After graduating high school you were just together, no matter the distance or time you’d always reunite with one another eventually. Kirumi often worked with soldiers, helping them get back onto their feet after war. You’d do the same when you weren’t fighting. You both were a perfect duo, doing all you could to make life easier for your soldiers and getting them to a place where they no longer needed your help. The pair of you were simply perfect together.

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bonjour-rainycity · 4 years ago

Text

Double Heart | Chapter Two ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG

Word count: 3048

Warnings: None

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour-rainycity” if you prefer!**

A/n Surprise! I wrote another chapter so I decided to go ahead and make another post. The reasoning behind this is I want to stay one month ahead and only one month ahead. That will give me a helpful buffer for when life happens but I don’t want to stockpile any more chapters than necessary. You know? So...here’s chapter two!

It’s nearing nightfall by the time we finally stop. My bones are stiff, my butt is sore, and my back hurts from all the tension I kept there out of fear that I would otherwise fall and be trampled under the horse’s quick-moving hooves.

Baranor slides down, reaching his arms up to me. I place my hands on his shoulders and allow him to help me off the horse. I stumble the moment my feet hit the ground.

Orophin—who I’ve yet to actually talk to—offers me a sympathetic smile. “Have you not ridden in a while? Take a short walk and stretch a little. It will help you feel less sore in the morning.”

I nod my thanks, tentatively releasing my hands from Baranor’s arms and turning away from the horses.

“Do not go far.” I jump. Haldir’s voice floats from the tree line just in front of us. I hadn’t seen him dismount, let alone climb into the branches. “We are not in guarded territory.”

With that ominous warning, I decide it’s best to stay close to the others. We’re near enough to the riverbank, so I hobble to the edge of the water and back again. Once movement comes a little easier, I extend my path to the tree line.

A voice to my left interrupts the silence. “Do you remember anything else?”

I yelp, placing a hand over my racing heart.

Rumil grins, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He hands me a canteen. “Sorry. I forget how terrible human senses are.”

I raise an eyebrow but bring the canteen to my lips, grateful for the drink. “And, what, elves are so much better?”

Mentally, I admonish myself for playing along. There’s no such thing as elves. Either they’re messing with me, or I really am having a wildly vivid dream.

Rumil nods, shrugging his shoulders in a way that suggests the answer is obvious. “Well, yes. We live longer, have better sight, hearing, reflexes. We do not tire as quickly as humans do, and we have a respect for our kin that the race of man cannot hope to imitate. I do not mean to offend.” He smiles, carrying a note of apology in his voice. “It’s only the truth.”

I shrug, unbothered by his comment. Because if elves exist in this world I dreamed up, why shouldn’t they be better than humans? It’s just as likely that I’ve imagined a race that’s worse than humans, and I only haven’t met them yet. “If you say so. But to answer your question, no, I don’t remember anything else. How long was I passed out?”

From his place by the now-grazing horses, Baranor answers. “Not long once we arrived, but I do not know how long you laid there before.”

“Yes, and you are quite lucky we arrived, especially with Baranor in tow.” Rumil winks, gripping my elbow and turning me back towards the part of the ground where I assume we will sleep tonight.

I give Baranor a questioning look.

He smiles awkwardly, a bit self-conscious. “I am quite skilled as a healer. I used the power in my spirit to call to your own. You were very nearly dead when we happened upon you.”

I file that information away. Power in my spirit…Probably something I’d read in a book once that my brain has brought up now. And these men I’m with—elves, I guess, according to the dream—must be people I know from…from…

But the fledgling thought dies away, leaving me with no more answers than before. I try to push back my disappointment, my logical side kicking in to soothe me. It’s okay. Soon the doctors will fix you, or you’ll wake up from this dream, and everything will be fine. You just have to wait. No point in getting freaked out.

Rumil, Baranor, and I settle on the high part of the riverbank. Orophin sits too, once he’s done refilling the canteens. I glance at the trees. I haven’t seen Haldir since we stopped riding. “Is he not going to join us?”

Orophin and Baranor exchange looks, but Rumil just snorts. “Likely not. As he said, we are neither in the territory guarded by the wardens of Lothlórien nor the patrols of Elrond. Someone has to watch for threats. More often than, not, Haldir insists on the job for himself. He doesn’t trust us to keep good enough watch.”

“That’s not it and you know it,” Orophin hisses, and I flinch at the anger in his voice, even though it wasn’t directed at me. I have no idea how Rumil keeps his face blank. The two stare each other down until Orophin speaks again, still through gritted teeth. “Go and collect the rations for dinner.”

Rumil rolls his eyes, but does as his brother says.

Baranor clears his throat, and I’m grateful when he changes the subject. He inclines his head towards me. “I see you are dressed for travel. Perhaps you were part of a company and got separated?”

Mildly perplexed, I look down at my body. Huh. He’s right. Something I had yet to take notice of is the clothes I wear — sturdy dark leggings, a deep green tunic, a red cloak, and thick leather boots. I haven’t the slightest idea how I conjured up these clothes, but Baranor is right — they’re perfect for this type of outdoor traveling.

Rumil returns and places a bundle of leaves in each of our hands. Inside seems to be bread and slices of some sort of fruit. Hesitantly, I take a bite. It’s surprisingly good.

“So how long until we reach this friend of yours?”

“Elrond,” Orophin informs, looking down the path we intend to continue on tomorrow. “Probably about thirteen more days, unless we hit bad weather. The mountains will take the longest, and traveling with a human will slow us down.” He realizes his words, eyes growing wide. “I don’t mean to be rude—”

“No, no, I get it.” I wave him off, picking at the bread in my hands. These elves sure have a bad view of me. “Humans suck.”

“At least it’s still spring,” Rumil supplies, trying to lighten the mood. “That will make our path through the Misty Mountains easier.”

“Right you are,” Baranor agrees, sipping from his canteen. “I detest crossing them in the snow.”

The three elves slip into easy conversation, exchanging stories of the worst travel conditions each has suffered, trying to one-up each other. While they talk, I place my bread back in its leaves and on the ground, no longer hungry. The stories they tell are quite detailed, and there’s this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I wouldn’t be able to make all this up…the landscape, the language, a whole new species with differing characteristics, vast knowledge of this world’s travel ways, four fully-thought-out ‘characters’, for lack of a better word….Dread and fear mingle with exhaustion and I slump, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball and go to sleep for a very long time. Perhaps when I wake, all will be well.

The murmurs from those around me sound muffled. A hand wraps grips one of my shoulders, holding me upright, and Baranor’s voice comes from beside my ear. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I shake my head, feeling the weight of their eyes on me. “I’m just exhausted.”

He makes a noise of agreement. “Of course you are, I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.”

I try and wave off his apology, but it seems like too much effort to raise my arm over such a little thing. From the corner of my eye, I see Rumil stand and visit the horses. He returns carrying a rolled up mat and a folded blanket. He unfurls both, setting them on the ground between our gathering spot and the tree line. He beckons for me to join him and, with great effort, I stand without help, going to meet him as requested.

“Here. Sorry it’s not much. If we had known we’d be traveling with a lady, we would have brought much cushier sleeping provisions.”

I roll my tired eyes, realizing that he’s mocking me. “Goodnight, Rumil.”

He grins, sauntering off to rejoin his companions. “Goodnight, Cosima.”

I all but collapse on the mat, pulling the surprisingly warm blanket over my shoulders. Before I’m aware what’s happening, I’ve plunged into sleep.

{***}

Baranor woke me with the sun, and I’m very grateful to be leaning against him rather than directing the horse. I feel much too groggy to properly steer such a beast, especially given the fact that I have no idea how. Even though he must have stayed up most of the night, Haldir doesn’t look the slightest bit tired, and, on behalf of the bags underneath my eyes, I am thoroughly annoyed. He hasn’t said a word to me aside from the few sentences yesterday. I understand it a bit more now, though. He seems to be the leader of this group, and has either been charged with its security, or taken the task upon himself. Despite there not being another soul in sight, he rides at the front of our group—straight backed, stiff, his head on a near-constant swivel. Orophin tends to stay near one of Haldir’s shoulders—guarding his back and providing a sort of second watch, I presume. Rumil alternates between riding in-step with the horse Baranor and I occupy and cantering along behind us.

If riding was difficult yesterday, it is doubly so this morning.

Every bounce jolts though my bones, and I seem always on the verge of being tossed to the side, never quite able to fall into the rhythm the other four find so easily.

Rumil pulls up beside us, seeming to showcase his perfect form. “Having trouble?”

I grit my teeth, but that only makes them clash together as the horse’s feet collide with the ground. “No.”

He snorts. “Toes up, heels down. Grip the horse with your legs, don’t put all that tension in your back. And if Baranor were human, you’d have strangled him by now. Loosen up.”

Baranor huffs out a laugh and takes an exaggerated breath when I relax my hold around him. “Finally, I can breathe!”

“So dramatic,” I mumble, rolling my eyes for Rumil’s benefit.

“What was that,” Baranor questions, though I know if he has as good hearing as he claims to have, he surely heard my comment.

“I said you’re a really great rider,” I shout.

The three of us dissolve into laughter, and I lose myself in this. For a moment, I forget that I am dreaming, that this is a strange world I made up in my head. I forget that I haven’t the slightest idea what comes next. Instead, I start to forge the first tentative bonds of friendship.

{***}

I am glad when we stop for the evening, and run through some stretches to try and help with the muscle aches. Rumil’s pointers certainly helped though, and I have hopes that perhaps this discomfort is only temporary. We still follow the river, and once again make camp in the space on the high, grassy bank. Bathing was an experience, but it was mercifully quick. The water was much too cold for my liking, so I washed as hastily as I could and then redressed, joining the others on the bank. I lean over to wring the water from my hair, the saturation making it seem nearly black. It’s getting quite long—almost too long, and I hope wherever we’re going has someone willing to cut it. Rumil watches me curiously as I take a spare cloth and scrunch my hair—bringing out its natural waves—but says nothing, only continues giving me an odd look. I guess with the stick-straight hair of he and his brothers, this would look unusual. Just as I am about to tease him for his staring, Haldir comes in to sight, looking quite severe.

“We have lost the cover of the trees. We will take watch in pairs, rotating halfway through the night. Orophin, Baranor—you take the first shift.”

They dutifully follow Haldir’s order, and I watch their faces as they pass. They show no signs of tiredness—no bags under their eyes, no yawning, in fact, not even a hair is out of place—but if it were me, I would be absolutely exhausted with all this staying up. And, though it is technically their turn to rest, Rumil and Haldir are still on their feet, occupying themselves with tending to the horses. I feel awful, peacefully sitting on my bedroll, messing with my hair and eating dinner, knowing I’ll get a full night’s sleep when none of them will have that luxury.

I return my food to the sack loaned to me and push myself to my feet, tentatively approaching Rumil and his brother. Rumil smiles in greeting. Haldir merely glances up and then back to his horse’s hoof he’s bending over to attend. Though I fight to keep my eyes open as it is, it’s not right for me to leave them to do all the work. So, I try to project energy I do not feel, and pose my question. “Do you want me to take a watch shift tonight?”

Haldir stiffens. Rumil raises his eyebrows and vibrates slightly—he’s holding back laughter! I give them my best unimpressed look.

Rumil tries to hide his amusement but can’t do away with his wide grin. “We appreciate the offer, really. But having a human stand watch when we have elves at our disposal? It would be the same to not set a watch at all.”

I huff, crossing my arms, trying to ignore the heat I feel in my cheeks. All this talk of how incapable humans are is getting a little old. “Well, there must be something I can do to help. I shouldn’t go straight to bed if the rest of you are still working.”

Rumil’s expression softens. He purses his lips, seeming to search for either a task for me or a way to turn me away.

“Do you know how to mend clothing?”

I’m momentarily caught off guard. Haldir hasn’t looked up from clearing his horse’s hooves, but it was definitely him who spoke.

Unbidden, the action of holding a ripped piece of cloth and using a needle and threat to bind it comes to mind. I must know how. So I answer in the affirmative. “Yeah, I think so.”

Haldir nods, straightening only to exchange one hoof for the other, never making eye contact with either me or his brother. “Good. There’s a blue tunic in my largest bag that needs mending, and one of Rumil’s too—that one’s red. Work with the light. Stop when you can’t see anymore and finish in the morning.”

I blink and feel my head tilt to the side. That’s the most he’s ever said to me. But it’s not even that he spoke, it’s how. Every syllable is crisp, curt, and succinct—a command in every sense of the word. I long-ago realized that Haldir is in charge of this little group, though now I wonder if he supervises in a larger capacity back in his home. I get the feeling he’s quite used to talking to people like this, and being obeyed.

But I did ask for something to do, so I don’t comment on his tone, only say my goodbyes and retrieve the shirts he’s described. They’re exactly where he said they would be and wrapped around a small sewing kit. I take the supplies and return to my bedroll, working through the sunset. When it grows too dark to see, I put the project away. Rumil and Haldir join me, bringing dinner with them. They set out their mats in a sort of triangle, and I realize somewhat belatedly that this allows each of us to watch the other’s back. It seems second-nature to them, to be cautions and on their guard, even during dinnertime and sleep.

I try to distract myself from that disconcerting thought. “Why are we going to meet this friend of yours anyway?”

Rumil’s gaze turns to his brother standing watch, a fond look in his eye. “There is an elleth there that Orophin is courting. Their time apart has been too long for his liking, so he is paying her a visit. It is dangerous to travel these lands alone, so Haldir and I took leave to accompany him.”

Courting. Elleth. Where am I finding all these words? I keep talking in an effort to distract myself. “That’s really sweet. Does Baranor usually go with you all, since he’s a healer?”

“Usually,” Rumil confirms. “He has extensive experience in the halls of healing, as well as healing on the battlefield, so he is an excellent addition to any company. Also Elrond—the friend we are taking you to—is an acclaimed healer himself, so he and Baranor enjoy conversing with each other.”

Haldir stretches his arms up, then reclines on his mat. “Better get some sleep, all of us. Rumil—we’re up in four hours.”

I take his advice, laying down on my own bedroll. Exhausted though I am, sleep evades me.

My mind runs a million miles an hour, piecing together bits of information from this world, trying to remember things from my home. And, all the while, thought takes root, sowing seeds of fear in my mind.

Because while I know this world isn’t real, and thus no harm can come to me here…Rumil said these lands are dangerous, and the increased watches only support my theory that we are under some kind of threat. I have no weapon with which to defend myself, let alone any skill, and while I know logically that I could throw myself off a cliff and still be fine….

What if that’s not the case?

I groan, rolling onto my back.

This is ridiculous. This place is made up. I’m trapped inside my own head, so I have no reason to be scared. Go to sleep.

And, when the moon is much higher in the sky, the exhaustion wins.

A/n Thanks for reading! You know how likes, comments, and reblogs make me smile. Let me know if you would like a tag! And if you’re having trouble being tagged (for some reason Tumblr isn’t letting me tag all of you?) try subscribing to the story on Ao3! That will update you when I post there.

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politicalmamaduck · 4 years ago

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old gods still walk in these thickets

Written for midwinterspring! Their prompts were: "an intricate ritual", "old gods still walk in these thickets" (based on this Dappermouth art piece) and/or "incunabula" (the beginning of something).

Read it on AO3 here.

Alina walked, and walked. How far she walked, she could not say. Nothing around her changed; the sky was grey, and mist and fog trailed her steps. She saw and heard no one or nothing besides herself.

Still, she continued to walk, her long black cloak brushing against the ground. She would not allow herself to become nervous.

She had come so far, farther than she ever would have dared not so long ago. Or perhaps it was so long ago. Time seemed to move differently for her, now.

She rubbed her palm as she walked, as if the scar he now bore were her own. The wounds they bore each other were now nothing more than that--scars they both shared, between body, mind, and soul.

Old gods still walk in these thickets, he told her. Alina possessed no conception of those who were worshipped before the Saints. They too were before Aleksander’s time, but there were still echoes of them resonating from the Making at the Heart of the World.

Their world was still broken and needed to be healed. It would be an intricate ritual, ancient and incomprehensible, but it was a price Alina was willing to pay.

No more innocents would die for their Grisha blood.

She felt Morozova’s stag glowing within her, as if encouraging her onward, guiding her true north, even though she walked south, deep into the Sikurzoi.

Finally, the scenery changed, and the mountains loomed ahead. She continued to climb higher still, despite the temperature falling. She was grateful for her heavy cloak and its fur collar. Despite walking for what must have been hours past Dva Stolba, past Keramzin, Alina felt neither tired nor hungry. She was sustained by something else, a primeval power living inside her.

She would not allow herself to wish that Aleksander walked beside her. She could not betray her own heart by thinking the sentiment. This, she would do alone. She would not sacrifice him or his love, though she knew he would see it as a betrayal when she left him alone in Os Alta.

Better to betray him once again than to betray her own heart.

She would not think about the way his body entwined with hers the night prior, the way the sheets tangled around their legs in the night, the warmth of him curled around her.

She pressed a gentle kiss to his head this morning, then pulled the blankets up, memorizing the way his chest rose and fell with his breathing. He looked so peaceful asleep, at ease. She would not break the spell of the moment by saying goodbye.

The Darkling kept the best horses in Ravka, but even they would not have been enough to catch her by the time he learned what she had done.

Alina approached the firebird, that most ancient and majestic of beings. The firebird reared before her, spreading her wings for flight, and nearly knocked Alina off her feet. Despite the grey mist in the mountains, her wings reflected gold in their red feathers, a striking contrast to the dull earth tones surrounding them.

Unlike the first time they met, this time the firebird knew Alina was not there to claim her as an amplifier, and soon quieted. Alina knelt before her majesty, bowed her head, displaying the reverence she should have as a younger woman.

“I need your help,” she said, knowing somehow that the firebird would understand her.

…

The thickets burned so easily. The blaze of the sacred flames was hotter than anything Alina had ever experienced, but she did not dare remove her cloak. It protected her skin, still so vulnerable despite her power.

Ancient magic, she thought. Not merzost. Not the Small Science.

She circled the fire and recited words in a language no longer spoken, uncertain if she were pronouncing them correctly, but feeling them sit right on her tongue.

She would not allow herself to be distracted by thinking of her tongue in Aleksander’s mouth, his tongue inside her the night before.

The firebird flapped her wings and blew the flames even hotter. Alina knelt and waited.

Eventually, the firebird approached her and brushed a wing over her back. Alina removed a feather from her hair, the firebird’s gift for the ritual. Removing a piece of thorn wood from her pocket, she pressed into her palm, smeared her blood on the thorn and the feather. She cast them into the flames, wondering if it would become her own funeral pyre.

She waited.

Eventually, a shape emerged from the mist in the mountains and stepped through the flames. Alina knew better than to meet its eyes without permission.

“You have come a long way, Alina Starkov,” the old god said. The voice was ancient, powerful, terrible, somehow sounding like all people and none at all. She supposed such human concerns as gender did not matter to a being behind the Making at the Heart of the World.

“I come to bargain,” she said. “If you will listen.” She kept her eyes trained on the ground. Next to her, the firebird shrieked.

“What could you possibly have to offer me, Alina Starkov?”

Alina knew the being would ask the question. She spoke with practiced words.

“I have much to offer,” she replied. “I have to offer myself, a living Saint, a holy sacrifice at your altar.” She gestured to the fire. “You may claim my life or use my body for your own, should you wish to walk among mortals once again. I have to offer worship, a remembrance of who and what you once were, altars throughout Ravka, eternal flames dedicated to your memory. I have to offer treasure, riches, the fruit of the earth and the product of human ingenuity. I have to offer my immortal soul,” she added, the most precious thing she had to offer according to the church. Though the words hurt her, she continued. “You may claim my Grisha power or the immortality it grants me, should you find those useful.” She swallowed. Before she could continue, the being--god--spoke once more.

“Do you think you are the first to offer me such things?”

“No,” she replied. “If I was, there would not have been a way to find you, a way for me to conduct this ritual.”

She still did not look fully up, but she could see that the being leaned the shape of its head back and laughed.

“Why do you care to bargain, Alina Starkov? Why not live your immortal life with all that power flowing through your veins? Why disturb the Making at the Heart of the World?”

“Because I can’t save them all,” she replied, her voice breaking, her eyes filling with tears. “I cannot live for eternity knowing I could have done more to protect my people.”

Too many Grisha, dead at the Fjerdan border. Too many Ravkan children, dead in their beds.

Aleksander tried for centuries, and still failed. The Fold was healed, Ravka became whole once more, but still, their people suffered. If the Fold were born of his anger and pain, using merzost, and her love allowed it to be healed, perhaps whatever Alina did here would be born of love and sacrifice, instead.

She had to try.

The old god laughed once more.

“Incunabula,” they said. “Let this be the beginning of something, Alina Starkov. Do you believe that you were born into this world to suffer and die, as the Apparat teaches?”

“No,” she replied. “If I did, would I be here?”

“Indeed,” the being said. “As I thought. Pain will still be a part of life, and the world may be cruel, but the Making at the Heart of the World was never intended to be so.”

Alina nodded, still not looking up.

“I will take a shape more comfortable for you,” the god said.

Before her eyes, the shadowy outline of a human body against the flames became a great boar, like Morozova’s stag. It pawed the ground, and she looked up into its depthless eyes, white and unblinking against the blackest of night fur.

Next to her, the firebird cawed and flapped her wings once more.

“I cannot control the free will of humans. None of us can. Your pain, devastation, endless war result from these.”

“I know,” Alina replied. “But is there nothing you can do to help? Can you not sway the heart of the Fjerdan king or the Shu queen?”

“You are stubborn, Alina Starkov,” the old god said. “Did you consider that perhaps I would be unable to help, rather than unwilling to bargain?”

She had not allowed herself to consider that possibility. She swallowed and tried a different tactic.

“If you cannot help me save my people from needless death and destruction, what can you do? What did you do when you were worshipped?”

The old god paused: considering, remembering. The flames crackled behind it. Its boar form pawed the ground once more.

“Perhaps there is something I can do for you, Alina Starkov. I will do this. I will grant you a boon.”

“You will?” she dared ask. Still wary, before the old god could answer or change its mind, she continued “And what form shall your boon take?”

Still in its boar form, it snorted, which Alina took for a laugh. “Wise and wary beyond your years as well as stubborn, I see. Very well, Alina Starkov. While I cannot change humanity’s hearts, or protect them unto a natural death, I can do this. I can grant you the strength and bravery of my boar form, that you may face your eternity knowing that you can and will survive it and all its losses. You will have this strength for all the days ahead, the courage to continue fighting, the bravery to look death in its face and know that you are not alone, that you will mark your losses on your heart but survive them.”

Alina nodded, and stood. She steeled her spine, ready to face whatever laid ahead for her. The boar’s strength would bear her alongside her own inner strength. “I thank you,” she replied. “I am grateful for your boon. I release you back into the Making at the Heart of the World, Boar God.” She was uncertain what else to call it.

“Use my strength well, Alina Starkov,” it said. “May we meet again, at the Making at the Heart of the World.” The boar shape dissipated into shadows and stars and spun back into the fire, trailing smoke and shadow.

The firebird flew into the flames, soaking them up as if an ordinary bird in a bath outside a wealthy merchant’s home.

“Thank you,” she said to the firebird, who squawked her agreement.

Alina turned and began her descent down the mountain.

…

Alina was unsurprised to find that she did not, in fact, have to obtain horses in Dva Stolba to ride all the way back to Os Alta. She was uncertain if days or hours had passed while she bargained with the old god, but regardless, her husband had followed her.

She found him in the market, her body stiff from the heat, kneeling, walking.

“Alina,” he said, the desperation and relief evident in his voice and the way he swept her into his arms despite the fact that there were others around to witness.

“I thought--” he started, and she shook her head.

“It didn’t work,” she said. “We have to try something else.”

He nodded, put his arm around her back, and led her to the finest room the inns in the valley had to offer.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” he said, after kissing her as if his life depended upon it.

“I had to try,” she answered, his fingers tracing her lips.

“We will find a way,” he replied, his eyes darkening. “Together.” Even if Alina wanted to discuss it further, she could not, for he claimed her mouth with his own and her thoughts were claimed by the feeling of his body against hers, the sensations he was creating as he kissed her, caressed her, undressed her.

She was cold without her clothing, still adjusting from facing a sacred blaze for so long, but her husband made her warm once more. She became the blaze, her wet center radiating heat outwards. He worked his way down from her lips, kissing every inch of her, letting his fingers trail his lips, causing breathy sighs and moans to escape her lips.

She found herself guided backwards to the bed, their clothes scattered all over the floor, her fingers in his hair.

Once she was settled amongst the pillows, he murmured, “I love you, Alina,” before his hands gripped her hips and his tongue delved inside her, leaving her unable to properly respond save a heady moan.

She supposed he took it as response enough as he drank his fill of her, leaving her breathless and tingling all over until he added a finger and she cried out, desperate for more, desperate for release, desperate for him.

He continued to caress her with his tongue until she was trembling with pleasure and his beard was soaked. Only then did he scoop her into his arms, holding her to him as if he would never let her go, and then entered her.

She was filled with him, simultaneously sated with pleasure and dying for more.

“I love you, Aleksander,” she managed to breathe, moving her hips in sync with his. She traced a finger down his cheek and smiled, meeting his dark eyes and falling in love with him all over again as he smiled too.

They kissed and caressed and held each other all night. In the darkness, before the haze of early morning light, Alina listened to her husband’s breathing, his heartbeat, and thought that perhaps the old god’s blessing had been for them both.

#darklinafics #darklina #alina x darkling #alina starkov #the darkling #shadow and bone #grishaverse #fan fiction #my writing #midwinterspring #fandom friends

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frostsinth · 4 years ago

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Royal Flush - Pt. 5

Prologue - Part 1|2|3|4 - Art | Art | Art - MasterList

I had this mostly finished, and since interest in the story has picked up and I am very attached to this part, I decided to post it. Call me crazy.

Apologies... I hope you guys enjoy this section... It certainly gave me feelings. I really need to work on some of my other stuff. But these idiots have stolen my full attention.

Stop by my MasterList above to read more stories, and feel free to BuyMeACoffee while you are there. Drop me an ask with thoughts/comments/questions, and DM me if you’d like to commission your own artwork or story. Enjoy!

True to his word… I did not see Grier the following day. I slept restlessly, and woke with the sun. Neither a particularly unusual phenomenon, however the reasoning behind it certainly was. I felt guilty, and torn. Part of me felt as though I had acted too harshly, requesting to see my sister alone. Honestly, until he had said something that was the impression I had been under. Then there was guilt, for having made him upset. It was certainly not my intent. But another part of me was angry that he was mad at me. Who was he to demand inclusion into my private affairs? Who was he to think he could meet my sister, the one light and joy in my life? A quiet voice reminded me that he likely thought he was my intended, so why wouldn’t he? Our families would be joined by marriage soon, and he had openly welcomed me to his…. I didn’t like the sound reasoning of that voice, and chose to ignore it.

I moved almost eagerly to the door at the knock not long after dawn. But had to work hard to hide my disappointment that it was only General Damjan for our promised morning spar. I followed him reluctantly to the training cliffs. Though I did find the match pleasantly distracting; nothing quite like getting the blood pumping in a fight. There was no time to dwell on emotions or regrets in the ring. One had to live in the moment, and for that I was grateful.

But still, I was quickly made aware that I wasn’t at the top of my game when one of the General’s obvious feints landed home. Knocking me solidly onto my backside. His head cocked to the side as he offered me a hand up, big ears flopping.

“Something on your mind, Your Highness?”

I gave a very unprincely grunt, then winced. I couldn’t seem to keep my composure. It was getting harder every passing minute I was here. It made me anxious to think I might be all but completely exposed now. I glanced at the General, but he merely offered me a kind smile. At least I hadn’t managed to offend him, I thought to myself ...Yet.

I took his hand and let him yank me back to my feet. My toe scuffed at the ground while I rubbed at the back of my neck.

“Apologies, General…” I said sincerely, “My head seems to be… elsewhere this morning.”

“You thinking about the King?” I jerked at his words, glancing over at him as I quickly managed to get my composure back up after the slip. Damjan merely laughed. “My turn for apologies. It’s not my place. But I did see His Majesty looking quite… sour, this morning.” A sheepish grin formed on his lips. “Honestly, I was surprised to see him at all. The man is not exactly what I would call a ‘morning person’. Must have had a restless night.”

I glanced over my shoulder, half expecting to see the goblin in question standing at the wall of the ring. Damjan whistled lightly, bringing my attention back to him as he tossed me the waterskin. I nodded appreciatively, and took a long, deep drink from it.

“You know, although he’s always been a... spirited fellow, I’ve never seen the King lose his head quite like… Well,” He dropped off, slapping his big hand on my shoulder. I sputtered slightly, choking a little on the last bit of water I had been in the process of swallowing. “... I think it’s good for him. Having you around.” He grinned again. “Maybe you’ll level him out.”

His words lingered with me as I spent the rest of the day in my empty rooms. I dared to use the bathing room, though I jumped at every little sound. But it was refreshing to finally get all the dirt and sweat from the past few days off. There was only so much a basin of water could do. I found the pools to be surprisingly hot and relaxing, and lingered far longer than I usually would bathing.

An attendant I didn’t know brought food twice during the day, and I thanked him politely both times. He grinned and bounced about eagerly, but said nothing. Otherwise, I was left alone with my thoughts. Of which I had many. Most of which circumvented around Grier. And my sister.

A second restless night had me out of sorts at dawn, shortly after which a lighter knock had me up to find Hibik at my door. He led me to the courtyard, where a fine team of horses was hitched to an extravagant looking gold inlaid carriage imprinted with the Royal Crest. I almost faltered in my step when I saw the goblin King standing beside it.

He turned to me as I approached, his thin lips pursed, his brows pinched. Scarlet eyes looked me up and down, and he crossed his arms over his chest lightly.

“I’m coming.” He declared, his authoritative “don’t-argue-with-me” tone in place before I even had time to open my mouth to formally greet him. “I won’t interfere with your time with your sister. But I will not allow you to leave these lands unaccompanied.”

I considered the armored guard mounting up behind him, settling into their saddles and adjusting their weapons. But I hadn’t the strength to argue; I was already frayed from nearly a week of borderline sleepless nights and day after day of emotional reckoning. I wondered briefly if this was what tortured prisoners felt like; constantly on the edge of breaking, but desperately clinging to the notion that they could hold out. I was glad I had always kept prisoners in my care in good conditions if it was.

I nodded formally to him. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

He scowled deeper at my words, and climbed into the waiting carriage. I hid my steadying breath with a brief glance around the courtyard, giving an acknowledging nod to the driver who tipped his hat to me respectfully.

The inside of the carriage was favorably dark, but not uncomfortably so, and had wooden seats lined with soft cushions. We sat across from each other against the back wall, and the footman closed the door behind us. The tension settled between us heavily, and the air felt drier for it. I pretended not to notice him glaring at me. A few moments later, we started off.

The sounds of the outside world were muffled, and I glanced through the small curtained windows. Curious despite myself, though I was careful to keep that from my face. Didn’t need to look like an eager child, gawking at the strange lands. It had been dark when I had first arrived at the castle; I hadn’t been able to properly see the outskirts of the city that spread from beneath the mountain onto the countryside. I jerked slightly back as we passed some citizens on the road, not sure if I was welcome to be seen by the general masses.

“The windows are charmed.” Grier told me, his voice bitter. I flicked my gaze over to him as he leaned back. “Sounds from outside are muffled, and they cannot see nor hear us.” His scarlet eyes flicked out his own window. “Commonplace magic for the Royal carriages.”

I didn’t see a need to answer that, and so used the opportunity to lean forward slightly and peer out the window again. Stone walls and colorful stucco buildings passed us by, then we were quickly out to the fields. It seemed the majority of the city really was buried beneath the mountain as the legends said.

“So, my young Prince,” The King said coarsely, finally breaking the terse silence after a long portion of travelling had passed, “Did I foil your plans? Coming along thus?”

I gritted my teeth, steeling what was left of my will, and turned to face him. “I am not sure what you mean, Your Majesty.”

His scowl somehow deepened, pronouncing his already prominent brow. “Well, I assumed you intended to use this “reunion” as a way to flee my Kingdom. After all, why else would you insist on meeting alone?”

Anger wrapped hot fingers around my gut. “As you insist you wish to know more about me, Your Majesty,” I replied, my face flat and my voice cold, “Allow me to inform you that I never go back on my word. If you will learn nothing else, know at least that.”

His eyes flashed. “Oh, my apologies, Your Highness. It would be hard to learn much of anything from a man made of stone.” He cocked his head to the side, wild hair flopping about. “I thought perhaps I had made a permanent crack in it and saw flesh beneath. But I believe now that was a mistake. Though on whose part, I have yet to determine.”

I didn’t justify that with an answer, turning to look back out the window. I thought I heard him huff, and heard the seat creak as he shifted. There was a long, hot silence then, interrupted only by the bounce of the carriage over stones in the road.

“Is it ingrained so deeply in you to hate my kind?” He asked finally, breaking the quiet between us again. “I thought…” I heard him suck in a breath, “I thought perhaps you were different, but the fact that you won’t even trust me to meet your sister leads me down a different trail of thought.”

I had to work to keep the anger from my face and voice. I didn’t look at him, though I knew it was incredibly rude and disrespectful. Part of me wanted to insult him thus. Part of me was just too damn tired to keep up the charade. I wasn’t sure how long we had been riding, but our speed seemed to have picked up. Another hour or two of this, and we should be at the border. I just hoped I could make it there in one piece.

I cut myself back from making an equally harsh retort, and swallowed hard, falling back on courtesy answers. “I apologize if that is how Your Majesty chooses to view-”

“How else am I to view it?” He snapped back, and I had to clench my hands into fists to keep from swinging at him. “What else am I to think, after-” He stopped himself, his voice breaking. The goblin gave an angry sigh, shaking his head. “After yesterday, I thought… I thought we might be… connecting.” I resisted a wince, but felt myself tighten at his words. “I thought maybe…” I saw him shift his jaw out of the corner of my eye. “But then, you switched back, just like that-” he snapped his fingers “-and now I sit across from a statue again, and am expected to be content that he is to be my husband.”

I pinched my lips into a thin line, swallowing my reply as soon as it surfaced to sit on my tongue. My temper was flared, and I was struggling to keep it in check. His words from the previous night came to mind. All his promises, all his assurances. He claimed he would give me time, but as soon as I faltered and showed even a hint of anything that displeased him… And I realized; I didn’t make him happy. The idea of me made him happy. The promise of an exotic husband, a regal ceremony, an evening companion. Not me. Not who I was. Though I couldn’t entirely blame him; for after all, what did either of us know about that person? The sudden understanding stung, and I couldn’t bring myself to reply for another long stretch of silence.

“You really have nothing to say?” His voice was peteringly soft, and I was surprised it sounded more like a plea than an accusation.

I turned my eyes on him, careful to keep them as empty as I could manage. “You seem to have already made up your mind about me, Your Majesty.” I told him, my own voice soft. I wasn’t able to mask it as well as my face; I could taste the fraying at the edges, and wondered if the pain in it was as evident as it was in my chest. “...I am not sure if anything I could say would change it.”

Another long silence. So long I lost track of it, turning to stare back out the window. Trying not to linger on what the future might mean for me and the goblin sitting quietly across from me. Trying not to think about Morgana, or the ache settling in my bones at the thought of seeing her. He seemed to be deep in thought as well, and it was nearly an hour before I heard him sigh.

“I… I just don’t understand why you…” He started, and the hurt in his voice had me glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. He sighed deeply again, shaking his head and leaning forward to cup it in his palms. “These last few days… I thought things had changed between us… but maybe it hasn’t been enough.” He rubbed at his face, then leaned back again. “I promised to give you time. And I am also a man of my word… Patience is… is not one of my virtues, I know. But for you… I will give as much as I can. Please forgive me my lapses.”

The carriage was slowing, and I realized we must have been at the border. Grier momentarily forgotten, I checked the horizon to see the sun nearing its zenith. My heart leapt, and my stomach rolled with anticipation. Not long, I told myself. Not long now until I could see Morgana again. My heart ached, and I felt myself waver. Felt my strength ebb. Gods, I was so tired. I felt so shaky and weak. I was not ready for this. I couldn’t even begin to think what to say... The carriage stopped, and I heard boots coming around to the door.

His hand caught my arm as I moved to disembark. I looked over at him surprised, and I knew my mask had slipped from the way he considered my face. His own looked pained, and I saw him hesitate before his resolve returned.

“Just… can I ask why you wanted to see your sister alone? Can I beg that answer of you?”

I looked down at his hand. “... Because... I know I am not strong enough… And..” I dropped off, surprising myself with the words and the honesty in them. I swallowed hard.

He released my arm, his brow furrowed lightly. “...Not strong enough for what?”

I slowly started to build up the mask again, but felt as though it didn’t quite reach my eyes when I answered.

“... To say goodbye.”

...

I glanced over at Grier, still lost in my thoughts, my hands clasped behind my back. He wasn’t looking at me, speaking softly to the few goblin guards and attendants. Giving orders, I supposed, and I shifted slightly. I couldn’t make out the quiet words from this distance, but it seemed a likely guess based upon the respectful stance the men took before saluting and marching off. The anxiousness sitting in the pit of my stomach didn’t lessen as the King turned, seeming to sense my eyes on him. His face was scrunched, and I wondered for a moment if he was still mad at me. But his scarlet gaze didn’t linger, instead flicking just past me to the road. A breath later, he turned and retreated to the front of the carriage. I could only just make out his shoulder around the corner as he leaned against it. Hardly another breath passed before I realized why he suddenly seemed to be hiding.

“NIKO!” Came the shout, and my heart leaped at the voice.

I half spun to face the road, realizing I had been so lost in my own thoughts I hadn’t even heard the other carriage approach and stop perpendicular to ours a few yards away. But the tiny ball of unbridled joy hurtling at me as fast as her little legs could carry her? I did just manage to see that. Instantly, I dropped to one knee, and caught my little sister’s flying embrace.

She wrapped her little arms tightly around my neck, burying her face against me. Her fluffy and thick untamed curls smelled sweet and were soft as clouds as they brushed against my cheek. I wrapped my own arms around her, squeezing her and swallowing back the tears that suddenly welled in my eyes. Gods, how I had missed her.

She laughed, wriggling in my arms, trying to break free. “Niko! I can’t breathe!”

I released her, my face instantly brightening and a smile splitting it from ear to ear as I leaned back to appraise her. It felt strange. My first smile in days; it made everything feel a bit better. Her grin was nearly as big as mine, and she was bouncing with excitement. I pushed her hair back, looking her over. But she seemed in good health as well as good spirits.

“Hey, little chickadee,” I breathed, running my thumb over her cheek. She leaned into my touch, “It’s good to see you too. Did you get taller?” I teased, tweaking her nose, “I swear you were only up to my knee last time I saw you!”

She laughed, swatting away my hand. Despite her dismissal, she beamed at me eagerly, then a scowl formed on her face.

“Where’d you go, Niko?” She demanded, putting her hands on her hips, “You promised you would only be gone for a few days!”

“Ah,” I shook my head, “Sorry, I should have written. My plans were… changed.”

“Did the goblins capture you?” She asked, and she sounded more excited about the idea than afraid. “Are they holding you for ransom? Do I need to come rescue you?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “No, little chickadee, I don’t need you to come and save me today.”

She seemed a bit disappointed, and I took up her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. Her head cocked to the side slightly. “The court says you got a Treatsy signed with the goblins. And Val says you’re getting married…”

I stiffened slightly, and my smile shrank by a molar or two. I glanced over her shoulder, and saw Gareth standing by the carriage. A deep scowl was set in his face as he jerked his chin to order the soldiers to spread out. Creating a tense circle of goblins and humans around us. I was pretty certain he was too far away to hear us. He seemed to be making enough of a point not to look at me.

“A Treaty, not a Treatsy.” I corrected her gently. “And Valerianus is right, I am getting married.” I told her, forcing the worrying thoughts out of my mind and giving her my full attention.

“Are you marrying a goblin?” She asked, sounding both bewildered and absolutely awestruck.

I laughed lightly again, nodding and dropping my gaze shyly. “Yes, little chickadee. But not just any goblin.” I cuffed her chin playfully, trying to belittle the seriousness of what I was about to tell her. Trying to hide the dread of her impending reaction. “... I’m marrying their King.”

Her little lips formed into a pout. “You can’t marry a King, Niko!” She exclaimed, scolding me as if I were trying to trick her. “You’re a Prince! Princes don’t marry Kings.”

“Goblin Princes do.” I assured her lightly, trying not to let my voice falter.

She considered this, biting her fingernail. “Oh… Ok, That’s fine then, I guess.” I gently pulled her hand away from her mouth, resisting the urge to sigh with relief and feeling altogether lighter for her instant acceptance. “Do you like him? Is he nice?”

I hesitated, the hairs on the back of my neck prickling. Very aware that Grier was probably able to overhear us; in the typical manner of a nine year old, she certainly wasn’t making any effort to keep her voice down. And our carriage was closer than hers. I resisted the urge to look over at him off to my left. I spared him a brief thought, wondering what he was thinking. Wondering if he was watching; though I had little doubt he was. He was far too curious. I glanced down at her hands in mine, and my smile returned.

“... Well, little chickadee, I don’t know yet. But... I think I might.” I brushed her bushy hair back from her face. “...And he’s very nice.”

“Hmmm.” She grumbled, pushing my hands away and crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, he’d better be nice to you! Or I’m gonna beat him up!”

“Morgana,” I scolded, and she faltered as I used her real name, “You can’t just go around and beat people up.”

She snorted, stomping one foot. “I don’t care! If he’s mean to you, I’m gonna-” She stopped at my warning look, then gave a little huff. Scuffing her feet in the ground. “...When are you coming home, Niko?”

My heart stopped at that, and my smile sank away. I swallowed, and scooped her into another hug. I had to close my eyes to hide the wetness welling in the corners. She seemed to sense my pain, as she always did, and her little arms wrapped as far around me as they could manage.

“I’m not, little chickadee,” I told her honestly, “I have to stay with the goblins.”

Her grip tightened, and she buried her face in my neck. “I miss you, Niko. I don’t like the castle when you aren’t there.”

I almost broke at the quiver in her voice. I swallowed hard again, stiffening and slowly pushing her back. I cupped her face in my palms, running my thumbs under her eyes. I could see the dampness there, and it threatened to overflow in my own eyes at the sight.

“It’s my responsibility to the Kingdom to keep this treaty. To keep the peace. It’s my honor to do this for our people. And to do so, I have to stay with the goblins…” I explained to her, dropping off at the end. “...But you’ll still see me,” I managed finally, “... I’ll come visit and-”

“Can I come live with you?” She interrupted, and then started bouncing on her toes in excitement. “Can I come to the goblin castle??”

I hesitated, but a small, sad smile returned to my face. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, chickadee.”

“Oh please, Niko! Please!” She begged, and I could already see her imagination going wild. “It would be so much fun! And then I could make sure the goblin King is nice to you!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. She always knew how to cheer me up, though I knew it was mostly unintentional. Her vigor for life, her smile. That was all I needed to be happy. But my joy was tinged with sadness, as I could see Gareth getting restless behind her. Soon the light of my life would be carted away again…

“And what about our King, hm?” I pointed out. “Who will keep an eye on him if you come to live with me? And on Valerianus? Someone needs to keep our brother from getting a big head.”

Morgana giggled as I fluffed her halo of hair in illustration, pushing away my hand again. Then she pouted, shaking her own head.

“Yeah… Maybe…” Her little brown eyes wobbled as she considered me sadly. “... Father doesn’t talk about you anymore. He acts as though you are dead. I don’t like it.”

I stiffened at that, and had to work extra hard to keep my disappointment and pain from my face. Morgana was too perceptive for me to let even a flicker show. And she knew me far too well for it to be an easy feat.

“... I’m sure he’s just mad at me,” I told her softly, brushing my knuckles over her cheek, “... He’ll come around… You know how he is.”

She didn’t push the issue further, and I saw her glance over towards our carriage. I wondered if she could see Grier there. “... Please, Niko? Can’t I go with you? I swear I’ll behave! You won’t even notice me!”

I sighed heavily, looking at her big brown eyes. “Not yet, little chickadee… But maybe someday. When you’re older.”

She scowled. “That’s just how adults say ‘no’.”

I chuckled, grinning at her and cuffing her chin tenderly again. “Some adults. Not me.” I ran my hand through her hair one last time. “...You can come visit, ok? Once we get everything sorted.”

Morgana considered this, and I saw her eyes dart over to the side again. She had never really seen too many goblins, especially not this close before. I knew she was dying of curiosity. But she must have sensed our time together was short. She chose my company over her own adventuring spirit, and shuffled her feet restlessly. It made my heart hurt.

“... You promise?”

I took her pinky and wrapped it around mine, bringing our hands to my heart. “I promise.” She smiled, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffling. “Now you have to promise me something.” I waited until she was looking at me properly again. “You have to stay at the castle. And listen to Valerianus,... and Gareth. Ok? No running off. No sneaking out.” She nodded. “Morgana, do you promise?”

She sighed, as heavily as a nine year old could, and I smiled. “Ok, ok, Niko. I promise.”

“Princess,” Called the old guard in question over her shoulder.

“It’s time for you to go, little chickadee.” I said, swallowing back the pain in my throat.

Morgana lunged at me, wrapping herself tightly around me once more. She squeezed so tight I thought she might pop out her elbows. I enveloped her in my own arms. Closing my eyes to dam the tears that threatened to break through my defenses.

“Princess, we must be going,” Gareth called again, his voice cold.

“Give them a minute.” Came Grier’s command, his voice sharper than I think I had ever heard it, and I felt the tension of the gathered men grow.

A human soldier stepped forward, eyeing the goblins warily. Looking for all intents and purposes like he intended to take hold of Morgana’s arm to take her back to the safety of their ranks. I shot him a look over her shoulder that had him stopping dead in his tracks. He shrank back fearfully from the intensity of my glare, retreating towards the carriage. The other soldiers shifted, looking more than a little anxious and exchanging uncertain glances. Morgana’s arms somehow managed to tighten more. I scooped one arm under her, slowly standing with her pinned against me still. Curling around her protectively.

“Don’t worry little chickadee, it won’t be so bad.” I tried to assure her, putting everything I had ever learned about hiding my emotions into keeping the sadness from my voice. “And when I see you again, I’ll have dozens of stories to tell you.”

“I’m not a baby, Niko,” She grumbled against me, “I don’t need you to tell me bedtime stories.”

I leaned back, and she did too slowly, meeting my gaze. “Not even goblin stories?” I teased, and saw her eyes flicker with interest.

“... Well… Maybe a few then…”

“Princess!” Gareth’s voice grew to demanding levels. Morgana glanced over her shoulder at him.

“Go.” I told her, slowly placing her feet back on the ground. “... I’ll see you very soon, ok?”

She nodded, her hands lingering on my arms. But then she straightened her back and stiffened her little lips. Putting on the same practiced stoicism she had seen me use a hundred times. It stung to see her hiding herself away. I almost winced in pain at the sight. Turning, she made her way back to the waiting carriage and Gareth. She didn’t quite make it halfway before she glanced over her shoulder at me again, her mask breaking at the edges. I offered her a small smile as well as an encouraging wave... and my mask didn’t break.

Gareth shot me a poisonous look as Morgana climbed back in the carriage, but I chose to ignore it. The soldiers maintained their guarded stances until the Princess and her escort were well underway. Finally, they turned, and with armor clanking, trotted after it.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the carriage, and saw Morgana’s little face appear in the back window. My lips tightened as I saw her place her palm against the glass, and barely managed to give her a tiny wave. I nearly choked as they slowly faded into the distance, then crested over the distant hill and out of my sight.

I didn’t hear Grier come up beside me, but I sensed him there. I wasn’t sure how long we stood, gazing off at the empty horizon. I took long, slow breaths, trying to find some semblance of composure. I heard him shift, and noticed him open and close his mouth briefly. Finally, I dropped my gaze, staring at the ground but unseeing. Pushing back the pain and sadness that threatened to undo me. I didn’t say anything to him, turning and making my way back to the carriage.

We had already been bumping along for a long time before he did finally speak. I stared out the window, my eyes pointed at the countryside flying past but still not really seeing anything at all. I felt like the stone he professed me to be; cold and numb. A statue in the shape of a prince staring off into the distance. I would look right at home in the goblin King’s gardens.

“Your sister seems very sweet…” He offered quietly, “... I can see why you are so fond of her.” I didn’t answer, but felt my teeth clench. “...She could come and live with us,” He said, his voice barely above a whisper, “...If you wanted.” A nervous chuckle fell from his lips. “We certainly aren’t wanting for space.”

“No.”

I barely managed to form the word through numb lips, it was all I could manage in my current state, and knew instantly it wouldn’t be received well. I didn’t look at him, but I could feel his pain as palpably as if I had stabbed him with a knife myself. A few agonizing minutes ticked past after my harsh rejection. Adding more guilt to my already stifling emotions.

“If you still have some misconceived notion that I would wish her harm, or this is all some elaborate ploy, then perhaps you have a deeper mistrust for me than I originally believed.” He had traded the hurt for anger when he finally spoke again, and his tongue was as sharp as any sword.

I didn’t have the strength to answer him, and my eyes never moved from the distant horizon. I wasn’t even entirely sure I was blinking anymore. Couldn’t remember the last time I had drawn in a breath that didn’t feel like I was swallowing fire. I would have winced at his words, had I not been working so hard to become the living embodiment of stone.

He sat in silence for a moment, and I could almost hear his thoughts swirling. Had I been more conscious of my surroundings, I might have noticed the anger and pain fighting for dominance over his features. As it was, I felt only the hollow pit of my own sadness. I didn’t have room for anything else. I didn’t dare move my head, lest my neck snap in my fragile state.

“Do you think I or any of my people would ever hurt a child? Do you really think so little of us?” He came back, his voice quivering with his rage. “Perhaps that’s what the real problem is, hmm? Not some bastardization of a childhood that forgot to teach you how to express yourself or understand your emotions. We disgust you… I disgust you. That’s why you can’t bear to look at me, and flinch whenever I touch you. Maybe you were just starting to get used to it. Thought you could pretend long enough to make it a reality.” It took me longer than I cared to admit to realize he was talking again, so lost was I in my despair. That only seemed to make him madder. “But hey, you did your duty, yes? You’ll sacrifice your own happiness for your people. For your sister. Gods forbid you ever ask for anything for yourself. Even if it would be better for both of you in the long run.”

An icy grip settled over me, and my jaw tightened. “Don’t talk about my sister.” My hands started to shake, and I clenched them into fists.

He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I not worthy enough to speak of her? Do I disgrace her memory by even daring to think of her?” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Something so perfect as your Princess shouldn’t be mentioned in the same breath as a Goblin.” He leaned back, scowling. His words stung and I felt my resolve quivering beneath the surface of my mask. Felt my pretense of stone breaking.. “The poor thing locked away from the world. No friends save for that bastard guard of yours and your lout of a King. But you’d rather leave her with those monsters who would turn her into another statue like you than suffer her my people. What a life you’ve chosen for her. I’m sure she’ll love it, just like you do.”

The carriage jolted over a rock, and I jerked involuntarily. My eyes squeezed shut, but it was too late. Too late to catch the single fat tear that rolled down the corner of my eye. I swore my skin burned as it slid along the edge of my nose slowly all the way down to my jaw. I half hoped he wouldn’t see it, but based upon the sudden tense silence, I knew he had. I raised one hand, wiping it away with shaking fingers. Clenching every muscle in an effort to keep from quivering, but failing miserably anyway. Struggling to push the pieces of my shattered heart back together. I could almost taste his shock, a bitter addition to my palette. The fresh silence rang painfully between us.

“... I… Forgive me… that was too harsh of me.” He murmured finally, his voice thin.

I shook my head, and took a shamefully shaky breath. I clenched my fist, swallowing hard to try and force the composure back onto myself.

“N-No… No you’re right…” I stammered, then clamped my mouth shut and shook my head again. I tried a steadying breath. It didn’t help. “I-I’ve..” I stopped, then tried to start over. “I’ve abandoned her… I’ve f-fail… I’ve failed her.” My voice broke again, despite my efforts. “D-damnit! I just… I just-”

I heard the creak of the worn cushion as he stood, then felt the seat beside me depress. I could feel his heat, could hear his breath.

“You didn’t fail her-” I stiffened at his voice, trying to get my emotions back in check “-You did what you had to do... To protect her.”

I sucked in a deep breath through my nose, and let it whistle out my mouth. Slowly, I opened my eyes to find Grier next to me, searching my face. His heavy brow was knitted, and I could tell he was torn. He must have still been mad at my rejection, but I could see him longing to reach out to me in the way his hands twitched in his lap and how he leaned as close as he dared across the small seat. I stamped the wave of emotions back, swallowing hard and shaking my head a final time.

“...It’s not about you. Why… Why I said… what I said...” I told him finally, satisfied that while my voice was still peteringly soft, it didn’t shake with the weight of my guilt. “Maybe at first I was worried… but…” I stifled a sigh, looking down at my hands. “You’ve… you’ve been…” I struggled, the words choking in my throat. I ran my thumbs over my palms, staring at them to avoid his waiting eyes. “... I feel… I feel horrible…” I had to close my eyes again. “I feel so… so guilty… Knowing that she’s… she’s alone and I… While I…” I purled my hands into fists, so tightly the knuckles turned white.

I jumped as his own hand slid over the fist resting on my knee closest to him. I opened my eyes to look at it. His three slender fingers and long thumb. His grey-green skin. So strange and foreign to me. To everything I had ever known. But the warmth of his skin against mine… I felt my hand relax incrementally, and sighed deeply.

“Damnit, Grier...” I breathed, his name coming unbidden to my lips, and I used it like an anchor. Longing to just… tell him everything. Yet lacking the means to do so... I felt his hand twitch against mine at the sound of his name. I closed my eyes briefly again, before finding the strength to meet his gaze. He watched me quietly. “If it were up to me, I-I... I would take her back with us in a heartbeat…” I looked away from his distressed face, unable to process his emotions as well as my own, looking off to the side of the bouncing carriage, “... But the King would never…”

I dropped off, pain welling in my chest again. This time it mixed with anger, and I felt my jaw tightening stubbornly. I felt the strength leaving me again, felt the edges of my composure cracking once more. A scowl settled on my lips as I tried to fight the numbness and despair that threatened to swallow me whole.

“... You always call him ‘the King’.” Grier pointed out softly, and I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “Never ‘my father’. Even Morgana called him ‘father’. But I’ve never heard you call him that.”

“If he had ever once been bothered to act like a father to me, maybe I would.” I snapped, then winced at the harshness of my tone. “I-I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to...It’s... it’s complicated…”

He didn’t press the issue, running his thumb lightly back and forth over my knuckles. I watched it, and felt strangely comforted by the touch. Slowly, I began to relax, even letting another sigh escape my lips. Grier shifted a little closer, until our thighs brushed. I glanced over at him hesitantly.

“... You could have put it in the marriage contract,” He mused, “We could still try to make the amendment-”

I shook my head before the words were fully formed in the air between us, stopping him in his train of thought. “The King and Court would never agree to that. Not now… and…” I shifted, looking down at our hands again, “...Despite everything else… he’s still her father…” I swallowed hard, my brow scrunching, “She should have the chance to know him. Make her own opinion without mine smothering her.”

He snorted, seeming displeased at that answer. But he said nothing more on it. Instead, he ran his palm over the back of my hand, then over my wrist, before sliding it back down to my knuckles. I felt goosebumps spread up my arm at his touch, and let out a hitched breath nervously.

“You know… I’m a little jealous of your sister.”

I raised one eyebrow at him, a little surprised at the sudden change in topic. Momentarily distracted from my pain. “...Jealous? Whatever for?”

He gave me a sheepish grin. “Well… I’ve never seen you smile before…Not once… Not even a little one...” I felt my ears grow hot, “I was beginning to think you just weren’t the type… then she appears, and…” His smile grew wider, “And it was like seeing the sun for the first time…” He glanced down at our hands, and I felt him squeeze mine gently. I swallowed, following his gaze. Hesitantly, I turned my fist over slowly beneath his grip, letting him trail along to gently push my fingers apart and trace his over my exposed palm. “... You’re very handsome, did you know that?”

“...You’re just saying that to distract me.” I mumbled after a few incoherent sounds, feeling like my lips just weren’t quite ready to work right. My face scalding hot and my heart racing. ”You like making me flustered…”

His grin returned, mischievous and stretching all the way to those scarlet eyes. “Of course!” He slowly intertwined his fingers with mine. “... But that doesn’t make it any less true.”

I couldn’t find any worthwhile response to that, and so said nothing. I didn’t move, frozen perfectly still in place. Afraid to ruin the moment. Grier seemed content to run his fingers back and forth, tracing the lines in my hand and running along the edges of my fingers. His touch was so light, I almost shivered at it. He trailed up and down my hand, then over the tendons on my wrist. The carriage jostled and bounced around us, but everything seemed to move in slow motion. The only thing I could hear was my blood rushing in my ears. Then I saw him wince, and he sighed, shaking his wild hair.

“... I’m sorry… I’ve been a selfish ass… thinking it's always about me…” He sighed again, “I just thought… You really confuse me, you know?... I never know quite what you’re thinking.”

I worked up enough courage to gently squeeze his hand. “... If it makes you feel better… I-I rarely know what I’m thinking either…”

His laughter rang like music in the air around us, and I felt my blush somehow deepen. “Then it seems we are a good match, my young Prince... “ He mused as his laughter subsided into deep chuckles.

He squeezed my hand back for good measure. I saw his face fall slightly, and knew he had more he wanted to say. I waited quietly for him to sort it out, still feeling raw and restless from my own outburst.

“... I thought maybe you were ashamed of me…” He said finally, his voice shaking, “I got mad because… I thought you were starting to be comfortable with me… but as soon as you thought someone might see us…” He shrugged, lifting up his free hand to rub the back of his neck. “It’s silly, I guess.”

I faltered, looking off to the side. I drew a steadying breath, letting it out slowly. “That’s a good word for it… ashamed.” I wavered slightly, and felt my hand shiver in his. “... I am ashamed…” I felt him stiffen beside me, and I quickly shook my head. “But not of you.”

He relaxed slightly at that, though he still wore the tension in the lines of his face, and ran his thumb over the soft webbing of mine. “...Then what?”

I couldn’t bring myself to answer. My lips quivered, and I tightened them, pursing them together into a thin line. It all came to me then. Fresh and raw and exposed. I couldn’t hide it, couldn’t deny it to myself. It was in the light now, and the honesty burned into every inch of my soul, bleeding pain into each pump of my heart. He continued to rub his thumb lightly back and forth, waiting as patiently as he could muster. The carriage bumped and jerked, and I looked out the window. We were nearing the city borders again, and the sun was starting to dip towards the horizon.

“Nikostratus…” I winced at my name, but turned towards him slightly, still not meeting his gaze. “If you’re not ashamed of me… then what are you ashamed of?”

The numbness spread through my chest, threatening to stop my heart. Slowly, I raised my eyes to meet his. As they did, I felt my composure falter, felt my mask slip. His keen eyes became frantic suddenly, searching back and forth across my face. I saw the understanding light in their depths, and his brow furrowed as it did.

“You are nothing to be ashamed of,” He declared, lifting our still clasped hands together and pinning them against his chest, “Nothing, do you hear me?” I tried to turn away, feeling the emotions welling in my eyes and struggling to keep them from spilling over. But his free hand came up, catching my cheek. “You are a good person, Nikostratus. There’s nothing wrong with you. You deserve every happiness.”

I let out a sad, shuttering laugh, shaking my head. He stilled it with his hand at my cheek. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

“Let me convince you.” He breathed, turning me back to face him gently. “Let me spend our lives convincing you. Undoing whatever tangled knot you’ve wrapped yourself into. Undoing whatever that…” He stopped short, sucking in a breath. “... you are mine now, Nikostratus… and I won’t let you hate something that I love.”

My eyes widened at that, and I froze like a startled deer. I saw him falter in his confidence, as if the realization and weight of his own words hit him at the same time they hit me, but then it quickly returned. He met my stare head on, those scarlet eyes fierce. I almost couldn’t hold his gaze, and would have looked down had he not still had his hand at my jaw. I felt raw, exposed; weak and frayed. I didn’t know what to think. I struggled, fighting against the binds slowly wrapping around me. I began to rebuild the wall fearfully, feeling my features stiffen and harden as I did.

“Stop. You don’t have to do that,” He told me, his voice aching, squeezing my hand in his, still clutched to his chest, “You’re allowed to have emotions. You’re supposed to have emotions… You don’t have to hide them away. Especially from me.”

I faltered at that, and my efforts stilled. My mouth opened and closed a few times, and I finally managed to tear my eyes away from his. He kept his hand on my face though, and after a moment I raised my free hand. Gently laying it over his on my cheek. I hesitated for two heartbeats, counting them out, then leaned into his touch. His skin was so warm. His touch so gentle. I felt him shift even closer, until I could smell the faint hint of sage and myrrh. I wondered if he bathed in it, or just burned it in his own chambers.

“... I’m not…” I closed my eyes, shivering, then winced for having done so, “I’m not… strong enough...” I felt tears burning my eyes again, and squeezed his hand a little tighter. “Dammit… I … I just…” My mouth flapped uselessly.

“You don’t have to speak…” He murmured. “I know I’m… I know I made things more intense…” He chuckled quietly, moving his thumb along my cheekbone, “I know I’m always going to be a bit ahead of you. Especially emotionally… I’ll try not to make things worse, though-”

“You make things better.” I told him, the words spilling from my mouth before I could check them. I cringed, fearing perhaps I had overstepped. Panic rising in my breast.

When I managed to open my eyes again, to search for his across the sudden silence, I found a warm look waiting for me. It breached the numbness settling in my bones, and I took a slow, deep breath. Feeling my tension ease a little more.

“I’m lucky.” He replied after a little while. “I’m so damn lucky… This arrangement could have gone a million times worse… but instead I got you… and…” I felt his hand quiver against mine, and I squeezed it instinctively, surprised to feel it flutter. “... and to think that maybe you might…” He sighed, then his toothy, teasing smile returned. “It’s not quite the perfect happy ending though... I’m still jealous of your sister.”

I laughed weakly, shaking my head. “I’m not sure who’s more of a child… you or her…”

His grin widened at my own quiet teasing, encouraged by my laugh. “Well, it’s hardly fair! She gets more leeway than I do.” He exclaimed.

“She’s nine.”

“She calls you ‘Niko’!”

“...She’s nine.”

“So?”

“She stumbled over the word ‘treaty’ and you expect her to say ‘Nikostratus’?” I felt my lips twitch with amusement.

He pouted. “Common is my second language. If I pretend to struggle with it, can I call you ‘Niko’ too? I feel like she might be pretending. Just to keep up the pretense of ‘adorable little sister’.”

I was happy for the distraction at first, but the reminder of Morgana made my face fall slightly. He ran his thumb back along my jaw.

“I’m sorry… I don’t mean to keep bringing her up.” He murmured. “I see it’s hard for you…”

I nodded, giving a shallow sigh. “... I miss her… but…” I glanced up at him, “... Maybe talking about it… helps.” His smile warmed me again, and I swallowed hard.

“Can I ask why you call her ‘chickadee’ then?”

I curled my fingers around his, pulling them gently down from my face to rest beside our other hands I brought to rest on my knee while they were still clasped. I stared at them for a moment, the corners of my mouth twitching at the memory. I traced my thumbs back and forth over his.

“It’s a type of bird,” I explained softly, “It makes a sound, very unique to it… and when she was little… when she was a baby, she used to cry like that…” The smile stole itself onto my lips. “... chicka-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee.” I sang softly, then shook my head. “I used to come running at the sound. I would tell her… ‘I hear you, little chickadee, I’m coming’ and she would stop crying... I guess the name just stuck.”

“Was it just you caring for her?” He asked curiously, “She had no nursemaids?”

I snorted. “She did… But I wouldn’t let them near her… Not unless I really had to.”

He laughed. “A little over protective of her, no?”

“Always….” I stared down at our hands for a long moment. “She is the one good thing in my life…” I stopped, swallowing hard and shifting, “... Was the one good thing…”

“...Maybe now you can have two?” He finished for me, questioning and hesitant.

I hid a smile with another shake of my head. “I’m not sure I can be so lucky…”

A loud clatter announced our arrival at the castle as the wheels clacked over the drawbridge. I jumped nervously, then dropped his hands. Leaning away with the pretense of looking out the window again. I steadied myself, turned away from him, fixing my posture and taking a long, deep breath. I was intensely glad for the privacy charm on the windows, allowing me to look out without being observed. The smattering of goblin faces that looked up curiously as we passed had my stomach flipping in knots. I wondered what his people thought of him marrying a human prince…

We rolled up to the inner courtyard, where there were far less prying eyes, and I heard the sharp click of boots as the attendant came around. Grier led the way out of the carriage, then up the shallow steps to the castle. Ducking us quickly out of sight into the private halls. He paused there, looking over his shoulder at me as another attendant rushed to bring us a lantern.

“...Shall I bring you to your rooms, Prince Nikostratus?” He offered.

I nodded quietly, glancing at the goblin who darted over with a light. He passed it up to me with a bow, and I thanked him politely. The little thing, hardly higher than my hip, seemed delighted at my words. I watched him excitedly bounce away, curious.

“Goblins love to please.” I nearly jumped at Grier’s voice, and turned to look at him. He smiled, gesturing for me to follow him. “It is in our nature… We live for praise and recognition. Even in its simplest form.” He led the way through the halls, head cocking to the side. “All the staff are already quite fond of you, I believe”

I tried not to blush too deeply at that, quietly following after him. We didn’t speak as he led me deeper into the castle. Though I wasn’t sure if it was from hesitation, exhaustion, or simply a new found comfort in each other’s presence. I assumed it was some combination of the three, but found I didn’t overly mind. My chest was still aching, and my head seemed likely to follow suit soon. I wasn’t sure I could take any more… sharing. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to be parted from him yet either…

He stopped outside my door, standing to the side. I shifted nervously in place, playing with the handle to the lantern.

“I’ll have some food sent up,” He assured me, and at his promise I realized I hadn’t eaten all day. Then he moved as if to leave. I saw him open his mouth to impart a final passing farewell.

“Would you...” I stopped short, stiffening as the goblin turned back to face me. He raised one slender eyebrow at me, and I swallowed hard. “....Ah…” I wondered if there really were beads of sweat forming on my brow, or if it just felt like it. “W-would you like to… to come in?”

The answering grin that filled his face had my own flushing hot. He chuckled, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck. I was instantly grateful for the break in eye contact as he dropped his attention to the side. He cleared his throat.

“I… I would, of course… but,” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes, “I think I should practice that ‘patience’ thing and… and let you recharge. I’m sure you’ve had enough of my ill advised confessions and blundering emotions for one day.” He grinned again, and my heart skipped. “We should leave things on a good note for once…”

I nodded my agreement, instantly feeling foolish and flustered. I reached out and took hold of the handle. Shifting the lantern to one hand.

“...Although...” He added, almost too quickly. As though unable to resist. I froze, looking back at him as he stepped closer shyly. “Perhaps we could… we could, um... end it on an even better note…”

I wasn’t as surprised as the last time as he reached up to catch the back of my neck. I was already bent at the waist to grab the low handle of my door, so he didn’t have to stretch quite so far up to meet my lips with his. The kiss was quick, but warm, and I missed the shape of his mouth as soon as he pulled back. It left my heart racing in my ears. I felt a sudden, pulsing desire, and my palms tingled.

Grier cleared his throat again, rocking back onto the balls of his feet. “Good evening then, Nikost-”

My returning kiss was much deeper, and I found I enjoyed his surprised sputter against my lips as I cut off his departing words. I had caught his shoulder to spin him back to me, and it set him off balance. He stumbled back as I stepped forward, and I pursued him one long step until his shoulders bumped against the door-frame and I could properly curl my body around him. His hands had instinctively raised, and now rested on my chest with a feather light touch. I didn’t let up my kiss throughout the transition, and now, with proper leverage, deepened it as I wrapped my arm slowly around his waist. Pinning him between me and the wall. Savoring the taste of his mouth and the feeling of his lips against mine. My other hand held the lantern awkwardly off to the side, but I was so much bigger than him that I found it didn’t impede me in the least. Half a moment in, and I felt him melt against me, his mouth eagerly responding to the demands of mine.

I kissed him until the need of my lungs finally required me to break away. I drew in a deep breath, our foreheads still brushing together, and I felt his own breath flutter against my cheeks. Slowly, I straightened to my full height, though I lingered with my body brushing against his for perhaps a moment longer than necessary. His red eyes were like dinner plates, and I swore he was a few shades lighter than before.

I couldn’t help but give a small smile at the bewildered look on his face. And saw his eyes widen more at the sight. I winced, the smile fading slightly as I realized it was there. I rubbed the back of my neck, looking away bashfully. I would have laughed instead, yet settled for leaning back over him. He instantly tilted his head, following me. Perhaps expecting another kiss. The thunk of the handle dropping behind him beneath my grip made him jump.

“Good evening… Your Majesty.”

I stepped gracefully around him through the open door, leaving him spinning in my wake. Amused with myself despite the race of my pulse beneath my skin and the spinning lightness of my head. I would cherish that expression of his for the rest of the night. Perhaps the rest of my life, gods willing.

“Oh-ho… It’s ‘Your Majesty’ again, is it?” I heard him breathe, though light with amusement rather than his usual displeasure at the title.

Then suddenly his foot was in the door, propping it open. I looked at him, barely hiding my surprise in my usual mask of stoicism.

“Well, then, Your Highness. Since you wish to be so prim and proper:” A mischievous smirk rolled across his thin lips, and its maliciousness sent a shiver down my spine, “I hope you sleep well, you’ll need it. Because just for that stunt, tomorrow I’m bringing you to meet the Dowager Queen.”

My eyes must have widened slightly, because he took a step back. Still grinning with sharp teeth from ear to ear. With a short, tight and teasing bow, he spun on heel and marched proudly back down the hall. I thought I heard a laugh echo, but it may have just been the terror suddenly drenching me from head to toe.

… Damn it.

...

UPADATE: Part six HERE

#Royal Flush #goblin romance #goblin king #goblin lover #goblin husband #mlm #male x male #monster lover #monster royalty #monster husband #monster boyfriend #terato #exophilia #arranged marriage #slow burn #angst #monster x human

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