#i’ve said it before i’ll say it again. this ship has taken over my life

[jumioxox]

teruvid brainrot

[reagan-the-saunders]

Chapter 2: Serpents:

Maevynn and Val start dealing with business in Solitude. They also make a strange new friend.

As the Silver Wing pulls into Solitude's port, Maevynn sits in the captain’s cabin writing in her log. She shoots her eyes up at Val every so often. He’s spent the whole trip fiddling with his hair in the mirror, but at least the beard’s gone. Maevynn looks him up and down, he’s still in his cloth pants and nothing else. 

“Do you want me to get you a shirt or something?” Maevynn asks with her eyes fixed on her logbook.

Val turns his head to look at her with a raised eyebrow. “What, are you not enjoying the view?” He says mischievously.

“Well… I didn’t say that.” She groans. “...But fine, stay half naked. It really doesn’t affect me.”

“I’ll try not to take that personally.” Val quips as he finally finishes working on his hair in the mirror. 

Maevynn shakes her head with a more or less playful sigh, then bouncing up from her seat. She tucks her log into her drawer and adjusts her hat. “Well, let’s get into the city. I still have some things to do while we’re here.”

“I did promise you answers to whatever questions you may have once we got back to dry land. I suppose now is as good a time as any to ask them.” Val says to her and he follows her out onto the ship’s deck. 

“Alright.” She begins. “So, the Dark Rose, eh? I haven’t seen her… although my first mate has, apparently… but I’ve heard of her.”

“Yeah, she’s been mine since I was about, uh, twenty? Give or take.” Val says as the two depart onto the dock. “Not anymore I guess, I’m… still getting used to that.”

“Any good captain would find it disorienting. It would be quite the change were the Wing to be taken from me.” Maevynn sighs. “Have you always been a sailor?”

“I was born at sea, not sure where. My mother always said that’s why I couldn’t wait to get back.” He responds. “I grew up on land in Cyrodiil, though. Imperial City. It was just me and my mother back then when my father was away.”

Maevynn stops to look out at the ships coming and going in the bay, resting herself on one of the fence posts. “What was the city like? I’ve never been there, actually.”

“Oh, well it was nice, I guess. Still, I left home as soon as I was old enough, joined the crew of my father’s ship. Then eventually, I got my own ship. I’ve sailed from Anvil to Blacklight and seen everywhere the waters touch in between… It feels strange being back on dry land for so long.” Val crosses his arms and steps out of the way of someone running cargo along the dock, then looking back to Maevynn once more. “What about you? When did you start sailing?”

Maevynn shuffles a little bit with a contemplative face. “A long time. I got the Silver Wing maybe nine years back, as I told you.” She sighs a little. “I haven’t always been a sailor, I guess, but I don’t remember doing anything but this, it’s been so long.” 

“This life must mean a lot to you, then?”

“It’s not for the faint of heart, as you know, but I’m good at making a lot out of little.” Maevynn says with a cocky grin on her face, she gets up to start walking along the dock again, Val close behind her. “Do you miss the sea?”

“Not as much as I thought I would. A ship represented freedom to me when I was a boy, but as I’ve gotten older…” Val sighs. “Well… Illusions shatter.”

Maevynn nods subtly. She almost wants to agree with him, but stops herself. “There, uhm… There was someone I found out by the Solitude arch when I was looking for leads to come find you.” Maevynn says awkwardly, wondering if bringing this up could strike a nerve in some way. “He was a dark elf. On the side of the road, a stab wound through his torso. Seemed as though he knew you…”

“Fathis…” Val grumbles. “That bastard.”

“He’s dead.” Maevynn says bluntly.

“Good.” He growls. “He was alive the last time I saw him, but I hope he rots in Oblivion. He framed me for theft and turned my crew against me.”

“I see.” She grunts.

“I spent over a month in Solitude’s jail before I escaped. And then? The ungrateful bastards left me on that island.” Val glares ahead angrily just thinking about what happened.

“I had heard something about an escaped prisoner. So that was you?” Maevynn asks, walking up the stairs to the stable yard, or at least its general area.

“Yeah, it’s why I looked so rough when you found me. I wasn’t stuck on that island very long, fortunately.” Val sighs. 

“I’m glad we found you, then.” Maevynn says, walking up the stone pathway to the city gates. “You sure you don’t need a shirt?”

“I’ll get one inside, don’t you worry. At least you’ll have a feast for your eyes until then.” Val chuckles.

“...At least there’s that.” Maevynn groans. 

Val and Maevynn head on inside the city, thankfully the streets aren’t too busy right now. Maevynn stops to scan the surroundings, she notices that Jaree-ra is still standing next to the inn. She begins to wonder if he does anything else. She decides to walk up to the smithy, but is stopped before she can.

“Hold on a minute, I need to talk to you before we go any further.” Val says quickly.

“Is there a problem?” She asks.

“I… haven’t been entirely forthcoming with you.” He sighs.

“I expected as much. Well, what’s this about?” Maevynn groans, crossing her arms and turning to look at him.

“I’m still a wanted man in Solitude. You know that. We’d better talk to Aldis before I get arrested again.” Val’s voice has a slight bit of worry in it.

“So… you did steal something…” She sighs, her facial expression turning to a mix of being annoyed and interested.

“It was in a tomb full of draugr. I didn’t think they’d miss it.” He says wildly. “But, it turns out I was wrong. To be fair, the Blue Palace would never have noticed had Fathis not turned me in.”

“Alright… let’s go fix this mess.” Maevynn grunts. “I feel like I’m being awfully generous today…”

“Thank you. I’ll owe you another one!”

“Well, the barracks are just up here. Shall we?” Maevynn says, walking up to castle dour. 

Maevynn spots Captain Aldis out training his men outside the castle dour. She walks up and looks at Val, places her hands on her hips and stands aside. “Well?”

“Greetings, Captain!” Val says cheerfully.

“You have a lot of nerve showing your face here again, Serano” Aldis grunts, seeming more annoyed by his presence than angered. Considering it was a notorious criminal who escaped from jail, Aldis seems oddly unbothered by his men’s incompetence.

Maevynn watches what Val says and does intently, both sizing up how good he is at what he does and taking notes for the future, both for her sake and Val’s.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me, as I was on my way to return the star.” Val says. 

“Hand it over, and you might keep your head.” Aldis replies.

Maevynn scoffs a little bit, not noticeably so. Guards. How quick they were to turn to threats.

“Well, I don’t have it with me; it’s in a secure location. I’m going to return it to your hands, you have my word.” Val explains. He’s remarkably good at buttering people up, so far.

“Hah, pull the other one. Just tell me where it is, and I’ll send a detachment of guards to retrieve it. You and your friend can wait here.” Aldis says.

“Pffft, what did I do?” Maevynn groans softly.

“You’re hardly an innocent woman, Maevynn. I’ve got my eye on you.” Aldis snaps at her, then turns back to Val.

“That depends on the way you look at it…” She sighs softly.

“Ah now, it wouldn’t be that secure if I could just describe where it was. If I hadn’t hidden it well, those pirates would be leagues away with your priceless relic by now.” Val says. He peers over to Maevynn for a moment, then back to Aldis.

“Your pirates, you mean.” Aldis grunts, rolling his eyes.

“I would hardly call them ‘mine’. Like I told you before, I thought they were ordinary sailors. They decided I didn’t have enough coin for my expedition, and the bastards framed me for tomb robbing.” Val continues to explain.

Maevynn smiles a little, her eyes fixed on Val. She’s impressed, and that’s not an easy thing to achieve. He does know what he’s doing it seems.

Aldis’ annoyance seems to be growing, however. “You were tomb robbing.” He says.

“A misunderstanding, which I’m working to remedy. Which I could not do from a prison cell.”

“...What do you want to do?” Aldis groans.

“Give me a few days to have a research colleague of mine have a look at the relic. The Star of Solitude hasn’t been seen in generations, and her observations would be a tremendous benefit to historians.” Val says exuberantly. “I’ll make sure you have a footnote in the publication. And then, we’ll have the Star back in the Jarl’s treasury where it belongs.”

“Fine, get your gear and get out of here before I change my mind.” Aldis groans, tossing him the key to his belongings chest and returning to work with a sigh.

“Just give me a moment.” Val says to Maevynn as he digs through the chest.

Maevynn runs what she just witnessed back through her head. She’s very impressed with his skills, that was quite the spot he got himself out of. Maevynn believes she’s figured out what he’s up to, and smiles softly. She walks over to where Aldis is out of earshot, and gestures to Val when he’s done pulling his armour on. “Well well well, you’ve certainly impressed me, captain.” Maevynn says with a small laugh. “Nice show.”

“Why, thank you. If you can’t dazzle them with brilliance, confound them with bullshit.” Val laughs.

“No truer words have been spoken.” Maevynn laughs. “So… Where’s the Star and who do we talk to to get a copy made?”

“Now you’re impressing me. You’re a quick study, I like that.” Val says, actually rather surprised she cracked it that easily. Although, being a fellow crime artist, I suppose she’d be the one to do it.

“I’ve been around the block once or twice.” She shuffles around a little bit. “It’s been a while since I’ve performed a scam like this. What’s your plan?”

“First, we need to retrieve the Star. I really do have it hidden nearby. Then, as you guessed, we’ll see a contact of mine about making a copy.” Val reaches into his pocket and pulls out a silver key. “Here’s the key to the chest. Don’t lose it.”

Maevynn takes the key and slips it into her own pocket, which was actually designed for fitting small objects like that. “Well, now your name will be clear and we’ll still get paid. Nicely done.”

“Sometimes I amaze even myself. Watch and learn from the master, my friend.” Val says with a sinful grin.

“I think you’ll find I can be just as resourceful and quick as you are.” Maevynn replies. “You know I’ll want a cut from this, right?”

“I expected you would. You’ll get one, mark my words.” 

The sun is beginning to set as they depart the city, walking down from the main gate. The wind gently swags the branches of the trees, and the sky glows a slight orange through the clouds. Maevynn stops to admire it for a moment, but faintly, she hears a grunting sound.

“Did you hear that?” Maevynn asks, her eyes darting around quickly.

“Hear what?” Val begins to look around a bit, too. Another pained grunting sound, followed by what sounds like metal falling to the ground abruptly. 

“That!” Maevynn exclaims.

“I do now.” Val says. “I’m checking it out.” He moves towards the sounds quickly, and Maevynn follows him. Further up the road, they begin to see blood splattered on the side of the road, then corpses come into view. Fresh corpses. They turn the corner and notice a woman, standing among everything. She’s bleeding rapidly, bending down in pain and shaking violently. She whips her head up and looks at Val and Maevynn with bright green eyes, glowing brightly, and peering through her pitch black hair. She has peculiar markings in different shades of green on her face, and there are patches of scales on her arms.

“Stay away from me. I don’t want to hurt anyone else.” She says in a shaky voice.

“You won’t be hurting anyone in the condition you’re in.” Maevynn grunts.

“Was that a threat?” The green-eyed woman hisses, staggering backwards and pressing herself against the cold mountain side, shaking and panting, and holding her wound.

“No, not at all. She… didn’t mean it that way.” Val says quickly, trying not to get off to a rash start. Him and Maevynn exchange looks, neither had seen anything like her before.

“Good. The last thing I need right now are more enemies-” She says before yelling in pain.

Val pulls Maevynn closer to him gently, speaking to her. “We can’t leave her like this, Maevynn.”

“What do you want me to do?” Maevynn says.

“Do you have a potion? A spell? Anything?” Val asks.

“Fine.” Maevynn groans, turning back to the strange woman. “I can help you, I know a-”

The woman lets out a loud hiss when Maevynn tries to approach her, her fangs shiny and sharp, and a forked tongue flickering wildly. 

Maevynn tries not to look overly disturbed. “I’m not going to hurt you, alright? You just need to trust me on this.”

The woman stops for a moment, and then nods.

Maevynn begins to conjure bright golden and pink hues in her hands, wisps of warm colour flow from her into the woman’s wounds, healing them shut quickly. She looks back up into the woman’s strange eyes, studying her face suspiciously.

The woman sighs with relief. “I don’t know who you are, but thank you. You didn’t need to stop for me.” 

“You're welcome, I guess.” Maevynn groans.

She flits her eyes back and forth between Maevynn and Val, reading the confused expressions on their faces. “Before you even ask it, the answer is no. I can’t tell you what I am. Your guess is as good as mine.” She sighs. “My name is Viper. I’m a traveller, and a forester, of sorts.”

“Nice to meet you. So long as I don’t join the corpses adorning the road.” Val says.

“I didn’t want to harm them. They attacked me. This isn’t the first time…” Viper says sadly, dropping her shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re doing out here, but you’re the only two people who’ve treated me with any kind of decency since I arrived in this horrid province.”

“We’re pirates.” Maevynn groans dryly.

“At this point, I’m beyond caring.” Viper laughs. “If you think you have room for one more ally, I’d like to tag along. If that’s alright with you.”

“I’ve taken in enough strays for one day-” 

“Maevynn.” Val snaps at her. “Maybe you should give her a chance. She could be useful…”

“...I hate it when you’re right.” Maevynn groans. “Very well. I suppose there’s no harm in it.”

“Thank you.” Viper sighs. “Let’s see where this takes us.”

[western-magical-girl-confessions]

✨Western Magical Girl Confessions January 2023 Update!✨

Hi everyone!^^ Happy New Year! 🎊

How are you all? What’s new? Still here? Lol Anyways, some of you may be wondering what’s going on with me? Maybe? Maybe not?lol Either way, I’m here to give you an update!

I’ve actually been sick with the flu for almost 3 weeks now! Has it been easy? HECK NO! 😆 So unfortunately, that’s a big chunk of the reason why I haven’t been motivated to make confessions. I’m starting to feel better, but I’m not planning on making any confessions until I’m 100% well! So once again, stay turned and thank you for being patient!

I’ve been just taking a break from this blog in general due to past events that have happened on it. Some due to my own ignorance and mistakes, some due to other factors, like anons. Either way, when I do eventually start making confessions again, I want to start off on a cleaner slate.

Just basically life stuff. Some stressful, some just average.

So after all of that is over and done with, I really want to make confessions again! I really miss doing them! Also, another thing I want to mention, throughout this hiatus in the past few months, I’ve been thinking about a lot of things. So I have a couple of things that I want to say and mention once more before I start up confessions again. I also want to say that this is going to be the last time that I’m going to repeat myself like this when I explain the bare bones of this blog, and to anyone who still doesn’t get it, I’ll just link the rules or link them back to this post.

Note: This stuff isn’t really meant to be aimed towards a particular group of people or certain fans, I’m just explaining this through my experiences and to make sure we are all on the same page here. My goal isn’t to “offend” anyone, it’s for my followers (and others who may pass this blog) to understand more clearly! So please don’t take what I say as offensive, please?

So, like I just said above, this is a confession blog about different western magical girl shows for different criticisms alike. It’s about people being able to express their feelings about different issues that they have with shows, it’s ships, it’s writing etc. I’m doing this blog for fun, for people to have a voice and to give people a chance to vent and to express their opinions without being directly attacked by certain people.

This blog is not JUST about a particular show. It’s about many western magical girl shows alike. So it’s not really fair to act passively aggressive towards the mod or the blog it’s self just because it allows a confession that said something negative about a show or ship that you like (or vice versa). Every opinion alike is allowed, even negative ones.

The mod’s thoughts and opinions on these shows, it’s ships, it’s characters etc. AREN’T a factor on this blog. This blog is about the mod submitting other people’s opinions and thoughts through cards. Their opinions and thoughts litterally have nothing to do with it, so please don’t act like it does to cause disclosure (or anything else of the sort).

If you have certain concerns about certain confessions on this blog, then you need to come to the mod about it so the situation will be taken care of to the best of it’s ability. If that particular problem is not solved in the way that you like it, then I’m sorry. The only other solution that I can recommend to you is to even ignore said problem, block the tags, or just block this blog in general. I personally can’t solve every single problem, especially since they come from different kinds of people, in which their opinions might contradict other’s opinions. If you truly aren’t satisfied with the way I run things, then it’s probably best if you just block and move on. I won’t get offended nor stop you. Sometimes, things just won’t work out 🤷🏾‍♀️

Like I’ve said above, this blog WILL be filled with different opinions and criticisms alike, even ones that you disagree with. If you can’t accept that, then just block this blog and move on. You’re allowed to reblog or comment on these confessions with your own opinions if you like as long as it’s aimed towards that confession in particular, not the blog it’s self. So if I feel like that your just trolling or what your saying is being indirectly vulgar towards this blog, then I’ll just block.

Again, anon hate will automatically be blocked, plain and simple. I don’t have the patience or tolerance anymore.

Again, like I’ve said many times before (and this will be the last time I’ll say this), Confessions are by DIFFERENT people, not the same person, so not ALL confessions are by the mod, nor are they by the same person. So don’t send hate that’s directed at the mod, since not all confessions are by them.

Look, I’m going to try to say this in the most non-belligerent way possible. I will try to take the necessary steps and make the necessary choices to make the blog enjoyable for everyone, not only me of course. However, sometimes those “steps” and “choices” might not be the same as what you want. If you don’t like that, that’s perfectly fine! However, being rude or gaslighting me about it isn’t going to change my mind. Even block the tags that are added to the confessions, or block this blog in general. Your opinions and feelings matter, but they aren’t the only ones that do.

Before submitting your thoughts & confessions, please read the rules.

If you have any further questions or concerns, please leave it in my ask box!

Now! With that out of the way! When I get back into making confessions, some will be unbanned and some will not!

The following confessions that will most likely be unbanned

Nex (Winx Club) confessions.

Positive Nabu (Winx Club) confessions.

All Chloe Bourgeois, Marinette Dupain Cheng, Zoe Lee, Sabrina Raincomprix (Miraculous Ladybug) confessions, regardless positive or negative. However, repetitive ones will most likely be submitted much later!

Anti Catra/Catradora confessions. However, ones that talk too negatively about its fans are still banned!

Negative Hordak (She Ra) confessions.

Negative Entrapta (She R) confessions.

The confessions that will still be banned or will be banned too

Confessions about Thomas Astruc (the creator of Miraculous Ladybug). You can still make criticisms about the writing or other issues, but avoid directly talking about him.

Confessions that talk directly about Chloe Bourgeois’s “redemption arc” (Miraculous Ladybug).

Nabu’s Death (Winx Club) Confessions.

Winx Club v.s. W.I.T.C.H confessions. You can still talk about both shows together, but NOT against each other.

Bloom, Sky and Diaspro (Winx Club) confessions, mostly ones like “Bloom/Sky are crappy people for what they did to Diaspro!”.

Anti Starlight Glimmer (My Little Pony) confessions. I just feel everyone and their grandmother knows how much of a “bad character” she is at this point, and has talked about it enough. I just don’t see the point anymore and just beating a dead horse.

“Bloom (Winx Club) is a Mary-Sue” confessions.

Confessions that claim characters as “Mary-Sues” or “Gary-Stus” in general. I just feel that the term has lost it’s meaning.

“I want the old Winx to come back!” confessions.

Things that could help!

Let me know if there’s any words, triggers, or tags that you would like for me to add to post so you can blacklist/block them.

Explaining your reasons for wanting a certain thing banned or not might help. I might understand or explain why this certain thing is valid/invalid.

The purpose of the blog IS for you to get things off your chest, but positive confessions are accepted too! I would love to hear some positivity about the shows, ships, characters etc. ^^

Please write *SPOILERS* in your confessions before writing it if you know that it’s a spoiler, especially if it’s Miraculous Ladybug and The Owl House. They’re the only active shows right now.

That’s all I really have to say. Sorry if this seems like I’m “making a mountain out of an anthill”, because I understand that this is just a side blog for fun, something that I don’t have to do lol However, I just want to be able to run my blog in peace, without any hurdles from people who refuse to understand. I’m just letting it be known that this is most likely the last time I’m going into detail like this.

So with this said, my little hiatus should be over soon, and I hope to do confessions again! Thank you for listening and if you have any thoughts or questions about any of this, feel free to leave it in my ask box!

Confessions at this time are closed until further notice, so please reframe from sending in confessions and headcanons! If you do so, it will be saved, but be released at a much later time!

Stay Magical!~

-WMGC Mod

[lys1]

Congratulations! You waited so patiently <3 This is another Asra x fem!reader for you. NSFW. 5218 words. 

Playing With Potions

—————

The late spring morning air was warming up to be a balmy 75 degrees. You had your skirt pulled down and up, tucked in the back of the waistband, forming makeshift shorts. The shop was somewhat quiet, yet the din from the streets made its nimble way through the open windows.

You descend the ladder to the box of ingredients you were unpacking. They had come in the previous evening and Asra had promptly asked you to “organize them later”. Of course you said yes, the two of you shared this shop after all, and the work that came with it.

Asra himself was bustling behind the counter, sweeping the wooden floors free of the dust and fallen ingredients. He stops momentarily to pick up his cup of tea and take a long sip. The jasmine tea's steam billows into his face as he sighs with content pleasure.

The floorboards creak as you step down and Asra looks over at you, gaze soft. "How's the supplies look, dear?" He asks curiously, returning the cup to it’s coaster.

"Ah," you muse, counting the small containers in your hands. "Looks like we will be all set on lizard toes for a while, I think our supply captain read 1000 instead of 100." You can't help but chuckle, it couldn't be helped, at least you wouldn’t have to order more for a while.

Asra's eyes open a little wider, "oh my." He laughs, "I suppose we won’t". He sets his broom to rest against the counter and bare feet pad over to you, his deep-purple eyes examining the products.

You feel his hand settle on your waist subconsciously; a side effect of being close to one another. You breathe in lightly, smelling the sweet scent of coconut and honied biscuits wash over you. Asra's breakfast choice was apparent.

"Mm," you say, turning so the two of you were face to face. "You smell delicious."

Asra smiles, box in his hand now a little less important. "Care for a taste?" He teases, eyes falling to your parted lips. He sets his lizard toes aside and joins his other hand at your waist. You look up at him through your eyelashes and nod.

He is a mere millimeter from sealing the gap between you when the bell of the shop jingles merrily.

"Ah jeez," you huff good in good nature. "I forgot we have jobs and responsibilities."

Asra laughs at your obvious disappointment and steals a small peck. "Unfortunately, we have to eat somehow." He then turns away and walks back to the counter to greet the customer.

The man is short and has a little round face. He looks extraordinarily nervous, and this catches your attention. Yours and Asra's shop is well known in the city and the townsfolk trust their magicians. You hadn't seen anyone come in here looking so nervous, and maybe even a little embarrassed.

"What can I do for you, sir?" Asra asks charmingly, resuming his position behind the counter. Briefly you let yourself admire how nice he looks, comfortable in his shop and expertise, before turning back to the box you were supposed to be dealing with. Not, however, letting your ears miss the conversation.

"I," the man starts, already fumbling with his words. "I, well look. I need help." He finishes plainly, nervously clutching his shirt between his pudgy hands.

Asra smiles kindly, "many do." He says, tilting his head and examining his new client. "Are you here for a card reading? Need to get some answers?"

The man groans as though he is already exhausted with the conversation. "No, I already know what I need. I have the answers. I've heard about this place. The ways you can help people. I live an hour out of the market and I made this trip just to see you."

"We're flattered, for sure." Asra says calmly, you can hear slight annoyance in his tone from all the ambiguity. The visitor is none the wiser though. "To help you though," Asra continues. "I'll need to know what you need."

"Alright I need a potion," the man finally reveals. "One that will help me... with performance." His cheeks are redder than a bell pepper in the sun.

Asra raises a white eyebrow, "performance? Are you an actor?"

"No!" The man's voice came out in a strangled whisper, obviously trying to keep it down. You roll your eyes, chancing a glance over your shoulder. The shop floor wasn't that big, of course you were going to hear everything.

"No," he said again, this time a little more composed. "What I mean is... my sex life performance." The truth comes out. Your visitor wipes his forehead with a dirty rag from his pocket. "My wife and I well.. we've hit a slump," he explains. "And I've heard of potions that can help with that kind of thing. Stuff that will completely change the game." His eyes are shining now, imaging life post-performance potion.

Asra looks uncertain at best. "I see," he starts, shooting you a glance. "That.. does exists. But it takes awhile to make. And the price isn't cheap either."

You shove the last of the crow feathers into their designated drawer while listening. You have never heard of such a potion, but you were also still learning. Asra sounds a little unsure though.

"Price isn't an issue," the man sounds desperate. "I'll pay anything."

Asra sighs, he feels bad for the man wringing his hands before him, practically crying for a cure. "Alright," he finally concedes. "I'll make it, but you'll have to come back in the morning. This kind of thing takes all evening to brew."

Your customer nods vigorously, "I can wait." He says. "Tomorrow morning, yes! I'll be here!" His excitement apparent, he bows a few times while backing out of the door, tripping over his own feet.

The door closes with a sharp bang and the bell rings furiously. Asra blows air out of his mouth so that itf ruffles the curls between his eyes.

"Well," he says after a moment. "A sex performance enhancing potion was not what I was expecting to make today." He rubs his temples, eyes closed and looking thoughtful.

You grin at him from the shelf as you pick up the empty shipping box and rest it on your hip. "That's quite the name, I've never heard of a potion like that."

Asra laughs and opens his beautiful eyes to look at you. "Yes, you'll have to forgive me for not teaching you that kind of magic, it's not the.. safest." He ends uncertainly. "I don't even know how this guy found out about it. It's not talked about much amongst us magicians.. and it's certainly not a common one."

Immediately more questions than your mouth can keep up with flood your brain. "So how did you find out about it? And why isn't it safe?" You ask the two more important ones, eyes following Asra as he finds a piece of paper and quill to use.

He dips his quill in the register's ink well and starts scratching down what you presumed to be ingredients. "I've been studying magic for years, my love." He says simply, "and before you ask, no I haven't used it on myself." He looks up at you, mischief dancing in his pretty eyes. "I'd like to think my sex game is up to par." He adds innocently, licking his lips seductively when your ears tinge pink.

You brush imaginary dirt off your shirt sleeves and huff. "I suppose it's pretty good." You mumble. It almost feels like a lie to just describe it as "pretty good" but Asra doesn't need you to stroke his ego right now. You do that enough falling to pieces beneath him every night.

Asra is well aware of your attempt to keep him humble and laughs lightly. "And to answer your other question," he says, turning back to his ingredient list, "messing with ones body like this can be dangerous. You have to be very precise."

You nod as he explains, it makes sense.

Potions are always brewed in pots over a magic fire so you put yourself to work, removing a medium sized iron pot from a hook on the wall and carrying it to a fire stand. Asra is busy himself, opening various drawers and adding seemingly random ingredients to a basket he has looped over his arm. Iris petals, newt eyeball, and some shimmering gold flakes. You smile watching him, your gorgeous magician; smart and able.

In no time at all Asra has a bubbling pot of sweet smelling liquid stirring before him. You stand beside him, observing curiously.

"Why are you wearing gloves?" You ask, taking note of the large leather gloves that clad all the way up your lover's forearm.

Asra continues to stir and looks over at you, happy to hear your eagerness to learn. "I can't risk even a drop of this touching my skin. It's so strong, and will immediately absorb into anyone's skin, leaving them..." He shakes his head and trails off, amused. "That's why it has to brew so long, to burn off some of the potency."

Your mouth opens in amazement, taken aback by the idea. This is the real deal you decide, stepping back a couple inches in precaution. After watching the potion bubble for a couple more minutes you stretch and grab the watering can sitting by the floor of the door.

"I'm going to water the plants," you inform Asra, waving your hand briefly until the can is full of cool, crisp water. Gods knows there are at least three dozen inside and outside of the shop.

Asra is humming in confirmation that he heard you as you open the shop door to the plants hanging outside. You don't get very far before you're blindsided by a streak of purple darting through your legs.

Escape!

"Faust?!" You yelp, dancing around the squirming snake as she winds her way under and into the open shop. A loud, booming bark makes you jump again. This time a large hound dog is rounding the tight corner from the side street and barreling full speed towards you.

All hell breaks loose. The water can is up in the air, crashing wildly into the side of the building. You are thrown back onto the dusty floor and a mass of fur and teeth race past you, paying no mind to your yelling.

Help!

Faust is racing around the floor, narrowly avoiding the jaws of the angry dog she seemed to have aggravated. There's a large crash from inside and you cringe, hearing bottles break and wood crunch. You look back, scared at what you might find.

The shop is a disaster, papers strewn, vials broken, and potion pot toppled. Asra is groaning on the floor, obviously doing no better than the rest. You glance at him worriedly, taking quick notice of the potion he had been making spilled everywhere, even on him.

You snap your fingers and the dog's growl, who was cornering Faust by the bookshelf, turns into a whimper as you lift him up with your magic. "I'm sorry pooch," you sigh, "but we can't have you eating our friend." With a wave of your wrist the hound is out the door and down the street in an instant. The hinges creak and bell rings as the door is once again closed to outside.

Thank you!

Faust wriggles happily, red eyes glowing in relief. You guess she got up to some trouble with the local fauna. She slithers up the stairs quickly, leaving you to look around at the ruined shop.

"Ah, fuck," Asra's words cut through your thoughts like a knife. He's laying flat on the floor, chest heaving as though he just ran a marathon. Sweat glistens on his tan skin, covering him from head to toe.

You step over the broken bottles and kneel at his side. "My love?" You ask, unsure of what to do. It was obvious what had happened, it didn't take an expert. The potion that was supposed to be for your customer was now soaked into Asra's glowing skin.

Asra opens his eyes and you swallow hard. You know that look, and it nearly makes you start trembling where you sit. Lust is prevalent, clouding Asra's eyes until they're a dark amethyst color.

"You-" you start to speak but are cut off by Asra sitting up abruptly. His face is close to yours and his breath washes over your lips, hot and wanton. He looks positively desperate, just the sight of you sitting before him doing wonders.

"Please," Asra's voice comes out low and husky, he watches your chest rise and fall quickly as a result. "Can I please have you, right now."

You could almost call him asking like that soft and innocent, if it wasn't for the raw, hungry look he was giving you. His eyes were traveling everywhere across your body, leaving an invisible line that you could almost feel burning into your skin. Your lips parted and you let out a soft gasp, the power that kind of look had over you was astonishing. You shifted your legs under you subtly, feeling the result of the hot atmosphere low in your stomach.

"Tsk, tsk," you had to tease for a moment. "Closing the shop at midday for some fucking?" You reach up and cup Asra's cheek, feigning uncertainty. His skin on your fingertips burns white hot and you have to hide your amazement.

Asra's eyes narrow, he knew you too well. With a quick flick of his wrist you hear the deadbolt on the door slide into place. It's only a second later and both of his hands have found a place on either side of your hips.

"Why do you torment me?" he asks, pulling you close so your legs straddle him. "Can't you see I'm getting enough of that from this damn mistake of a potion?" His words are almost shaky, as though he can barely speak anymore. He presses his hips up to meet yours, and a soft sigh escapes his lips as he finally gets a little friction.

You dig your nails into his shoulders and gasp, the feeling of Asra so obviously in need is enough to make anyone go wild.

You can't resist grinding down lightly and Asra's eyes practically roll back at the sensation. "How can I say no to such a pretty face," you whisper, completely in love with his reaction.

That was enough for Asra and without added words he gathers you up in his strong arms and lifts you both. Your head falls back pleasurably when his lips find your neck. It only takes a few quick steps on his part to bring the two of you into the plush back room.

The purple cushions lining the cozy futon sink in gently as your back hits the mattress. The room has a slight pleasing haze as sandalwood incense burns at the table. The smell washes over your senses and a new wave of sensuality comes over the room.

Asra's hands hold you firmly as his lips continue to press lovingly into your skin. He hovers over you, one leg pressed between your legs, causing your hips to involuntarily move along his thigh.

"I need you out of these clothes," Asra groans, lips being stopped at your chest where your shirt has suddenly become a hindrance. He's already tugging at the hem, untucking the loose fabric from your waistband. You raise yourself to your elbows and help him pull the shirt over your head. At once it is thrown over Asra's shoulder and his eyes are set on your bare skin, drinking in the sight of his lover.

You smile at his admiration and lay back again, stretching your arms above your head and arching your back. You feel his hands on your stomach, traveling up to rest on your breasts. Your skin prickles with desire, flesh lighting on fire from his ministrations.

"How did I get so lucky," he breathes out, looking down at you with a look filled with love and passion. He rests the tips of his fingers on your nipples and swirls them lightly, leaving you to twist in torturous pleasure beneath his touch. "Everything about you is beautiful." Asra continues to flatter, lowering his head so his curls tickle your stomach. He licks a long line from the dip of your hip up to the valley between your breasts.

After a few moments of tasting your supple skin he moves his hands to the top of your skirt and tugs. You lift your hips in compliance and the fabric slides down your legs easily. Asra licks his lips as your body is finally fully presented to him.

"I could feast on you," he announces, voice lowered with need. "And I wouldn't go hungry in a lifetime." These words he whispers into your inner thigh, they tickle your skin softly.

You watch with bated breath as the man before you adores his lover. It's hard to keep your moans controlled as you feel his sinfully good tongue lick you in a way that can only be described as ecstasy.

Asra shifts into a more comfortable position, lying on his stomach and he brings your legs to lay comfortably over his shoulders. You shudder as you feel his hot breath flutter over your dripping slit. He doesn't waste anymore time and lowers his face to enjoy you.

Your thighs squeeze his head lightly as your body arches in response. Asra is devouring you as though you were a feast and it was the only meal he is to have in a lifetime. He grips your legs tightly to keep you from moving and covers your slit with his mouth, sucking for a moment on the tight nub at the top. He groans happily into your skin before moving down to lick your hole.

"Oh please, yes," you run your trembling hand through his hair and raise your hips up to meet his greedy mouth. He laps short, quick strokes first, stimulating you into madness.

After a moment he slows his tongue down to swirl languidly, looking up at you. You make eye contact and groan at the erotic scene of him eating you out. "That mouth of yours is too skilled for its own good," you whisper, fingers digging into his scalp, trying desperately to savor every swipe of his tongue.

Asra smiles against your folds. "I live to make you feel good, my dear." He says, pausing a moment. "You intoxicate me. Your smell, your taste. I couldn't get enough even if I had all the time in the world." He presses his lips on each one of your thighs with hot, open mouth kisses.

You blush at his words, feeling amazing under his praise. "Come here," you command softly, pulling on Asra's hair lightly to guide him back up your body. He kisses every inch of skin he passes before finally reaching your lips.

"Mm," he hums, taking your face in his hands. "But these lips, are like the finest honey in Vesuvia." He lifts your head so your mouths meet. It's a hot and feverish kiss, full of staggering amounts of love.

You press your body into his and relish in the feeling of kissing Asra. Your mouths are opened to one another and your tongues meet in fiery unison. While you enjoy the kiss you allow your hands to roam. Your fingers find his shirt buttons and you start to undo them as best you can, only a little distracted. It takes just a minute and you sigh happily into his mouth when you finally remove the annoying clothing.

You part a moment to admire the divinity of his body; prostrated before you. He was calling himself the lucky one, but you could probably make a pretty good argument for it being the other way around. He looked absolutely glorious in the hazy glow of the room.

As you reach for the waistband of his pants and rest your fingers playfully on the skin above it Asra breaks out in goosebumps at the fluttering feel of your touch.

"Ah," he breaths out, raising himself to his knees and closing his eyes. Clearly, he's enjoying the attention finally being on him.

"You are the one with the potion affecting them." You say, drawing a line from one hip to another. "It'd almost be criminal to ignore you for any longer." Your eyes fall to the bulge straining under Asra's pants, just begging to be free. A smile plays across your lips as his breaths quickens significantly.

"I.. wouldn't complain." He finally manages to say in a strained tone.

You smile, maybe a little too satisfied, and hook your fingers under the band. "I know." You chuckle, pulling. The trousers catch a moment on Asra's hardened length before slipping down to his knees. You take time to admire the sight before you, licking your lips. Asra is panting slightly, looking down at you lustfully as your eyes graze over him.

He grabs your head on either side and looks into your eyes. "Please," is all he can croak out.

You swallow thickly and you feel yourself dampen even more at his begging words. “I’d like nothing more" you say; need dripping heavily from your words. You lean forward and kiss the tip of his leaking slit lightly. Asra's body shivers with pleasure when your soft lips meet his aching shaft.

You take a breath before closing your mouth around his tip. Your cheeks hollow and you suck in deeply, enjoying the small sounds of pleasure emitting from Asra's lips. He groans even deeper as you finally swallow down his whole length, tip sliding down the back of your throat.

"Ah fuck, baby," he stutters through gritted teeth, fingers threading through your hair. He thrusts into your mouth without hesitation, reveling in the way you feel around him. The pace is fast and vicious, leaving no time for extra room for breathing.

You choke back your gasps and feel the involuntary tears prick at the corners or your eyes. Your hands fall to your sides as you let Asra use your mouth how he pleased. Licentious noises ring around the room as he sinks his member into your mouth relentlessly, moaning at each stroke and the salacious feelings that come over him.

His grip tightens in your hair as he pounds into your face. You open your mouth as widely as you can and take him in, ignoring the slight pain of labored breathing. The feeling of being used so mercilessly is intoxicating, and you close your eyes, enjoying the pleasure that overtakes you.

With a loud pop he pulls out of your drooling mouth, leaving you to be the one groaning in disappointment.

"I'm sorry love," he huffs dazedly, need heavy on his features. "But if I don't stop this now I'm cumming in your mouth."

"That doesn't sound so bad," you complain, sticking your tongue out so Asra can view how much you want it. His eyes darken considerably and he looks ready to break.

He takes a breath in sharply, steadying himself before holding your face gently in his hand. "As much as I want you fuck your face, that pussy of yours I know is dripping for me and I have to comply." He chuckles, running his thumb along your lip.

You whimper at his words, practically climaxing at the suggestion. You meet his eyes in a needy manner and nod. "Oh, Asra," you start, already seeing excitement flit across his face at the mention of his name. "I want you more than I can even describe to you."

To this Asra inhales sharply, thumb still hooked in your mouth. "Tell me how you want me," he says, barely able to contain his own desire.

"I want you to fuck me from behind," you begin, knowing exactly how to please his ears. "I'm going to cry and moan, and beg you for relief but you will know better." His eyes widen in ecstasy but you continue anyway. "I want you to give everything you can to me, without holding back."

Asra seems to snap right in front of you. His features immediately seem to plead for consolation. "You'll get what you ask for." He growls, fingers tightening in your mouth. You lick his thumb seductively and the action throws him over the edge.

Asra's hands fly to your waist and hold you firmly, you're flipped over; ass to the heavens greeting him. He swallows at the sight and digs both palms into the flesh, enjoying the feeling immensely. "So needy and ready for me," he groans, finger finding your entrance and slipping in easily. You gulp at the warmth of having fingers enter you. Asra is unrelenting and curls them cruelly against your walls.

"Just fuck me already!" You cry, unable to hide your desires anymore. You hear Asra laugh behind you, yet despite this you know he is dying to sink himself into you.

"Alright, alright." He concedes, taking your hips in his hands. "If you insist."

You feel his tip slide against your slit and shudder, craving the feeling of him inside you. It doesn't take more than a moment before you feel him start to enter you. You lay your head down, turning your face so you can watch Asra take you from behind.

His lips are parted in a silent moan as he relishes in the feeling of your walls around him. You sigh softly as he fully sheaths himself in you, a small tremor passing over your body from the pleasure. One moment, two moments pass as you both bask in the feeling of being connected.

"Give me your hands," he commands, slowly sliding in and out of you, giving no care to his agonizingly slow pace. Soft gasps are falling from your lips as you try to register his request.

Carefully, you cross your arms behind your back. It's no use to keep the blush at bay as you take in the dirty scene. Your face is pressed to the pillows, unable to move much as Asra takes your wrists and pins them to your back. Your ass is raised in the air to meet his rhythmic thrusting.

Asra grips one of your thighs with a free hand and quickens the pace a little. Your eyes shut tightly as your body responds. You can feel his tip hit deep inside of you with each snap of his hips. It's unrelenting and you have to catch yourself from begging for more.

You feel the fingers around your wrist tighten a bit as Asra's breathing speeds up behind you. You know that he's set on giving you as much painfully slow torture as he can manage himself, but you also know that potion is working against him. There's nothing he wants more than to let go and pound you into the mattress.

"Baby," you choke out, words bouncing along with your bodies. "I know you want to fuck me so good right now." Your voice is deep with seduction. "Please just fill me up like I know you want to." You finish your plea, watching his face with satisfaction. His eyes are darkened with desire. He takes just a few more strokes before slowly to a stop inside you.

"You asked for it," he warns. He only takes a moment to let go of your wrists and flips your body so you're facing him. He cages you in on either side and licks his lips as he stares into your eyes. His hungry mouth meets yours in a kiss full of fire. You can melt into it for only a second before you feel him grab your hips and pull you flush against him; Your cries drowned by his lips as he sets an erratic pace, skin meeting with loud slaps.

"Fucking hell," he groans, still kissing you between words. "You feel like heaven on earth. You're so hot, and I can feel your insides squeezing me." He explains, hot breath falling over your face. Your cheeks burn at his descriptions.

You loop your arms around his neck and press your chest into his. Your skin meets, shining with sweat and burning from love. Asra presses back, savoring the feeling of your nipples brushing against his.

You start to feel that familiar blossom of unreleased pleasure pool in your lower stomach. Asra's shaft is hitting you just right, sending jolts of satisfaction right to your core.

"Oh-" you stop and whine pleasantly when he shifts angles. "Fuck. Please yes, don't stop!" Your arms drop and nails dip into his biceps and you grit your teeth from the hot delight searing through your body.

"I couldn't even If i wanted to," Asra answers, words strained as his grasp on himself starts to crumble. His breath is leaving his lips in short pants now and you can almost see the resolve to hold on slip away before your eyes.

He falls into you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and thrusts into you with all of the strength he can muster. You bury your face in his neck and take hold of his hair. You can feel Asra's body shuddering to not let go.

You bring your lips to his ear and bite his lobe. "Won't you come for me sweetheart? Please empty yourself in me." You whisper.

Asra takes in a sharp breath and you hear him choke at your words. They were enough to push him over the edge and he rams into you with a low, strangled cry.

Your head falls back and your mouth opens in a silent scream as Asra lets himself go in you. Your legs shake violently of their own accord as you feel your orgasm wash over you, leaving your body in euphoric fire.

Asra's lips immediately find yours as you ride out your orgasms together. You kiss him passionately, all of your senses in overdrive. His kisses are soft, and sweet, a clear declaration of his love. Happiness rushes in like a flood as you enjoy the afterglow. After a minute Asra removes himself from you and joins you in laying down, sides still heaving from the activities.

"My dear, how I love you." He says with a smile, running his fingers in slow, soft circles on your stomach.

You turn on your side and look into his eyes. He looked content, and his cheeks were dimpled from his growing grin.

"I love you too," you return, hand falling into his. His skin was still warm. The two of you lay there for a while, out of breath and simply enjoying the presence of one another.

Eventually, Asra sits up and looks down at you with humor in his eyes. "Well, I think I can tell our buyer that we did an extensive review of his product and it does, in fact, work."

Your face breaks into a smile and you laugh at Asra's words. "Oh goodie, I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear all about it."

[clouds-rambles]

Here's a hurt/comfort idea:

Can I please get Kazuha with a reader who feels guilty about having an electro vision, like some part of them feels they ate somehow at fault for what happened to Kazuha's friend, and so they throw their vision away?

Hurt/comfort for the soul <3

Tomo is Kazuhas friend btw

Beidou calls you kiddo, but in a way an older woman would call someone a decade or so younger than her a kiddo. 40 y/o Beidou for clear skin

Beidou Mum figure alert

1.5k words moment

Pairings; (Romantic) Kazuha x reader, (Platonic) Beidou x reader

Warning(s); hurt/comfort, electro vision user

Keep reading under the cut!

It's been a little while since both you and Kazuha have escaped Inazuma, the two of you have been aboard Captain Beidou's ship since you met her a few weeks ago.

And this is the first time since Tomo's death that both you and Kazuha have finally been able to stop running. In the months you were in Inazuma on the run Kazuha had kept trying to get you to stay in worry that you were going to throw your whole life away. 'And miss out on the adventures you're going to have?' is how you'd always reply, and Kazuha would give you an eyeroll and a light chuckle.

What you'd do for that man honestly.

Kazuha has decided to sit in the crows nest for some silent meditation and here you are contemplating...

You brain brings up memories of every time Kazuha gives you a side glance whenever you use your vision. The vicious flinches when you let the electricity from your vision crackle loudly. The way after a fight Kazuha will take himself off to be alone, the more time he's gone usually correlates with how much you used your vision.

Those kinds of things add up in your brain, you desperately don't want him to be scared of you, nor the things you do.

And while it's true Kazuha holds the philosophy that visions are the beholders of the users ambition to pave the road to their goals... but you've seen people who have lost their visions because of the hunt decree manifest their ambition in other ways.

Surely you could do the same?

Even if it's just for Kazuha's comfort you could give up your vision. Sure, you had both witnessed Tomo's death but you can tell it hurt him in a different way than it did you.

You sigh and rub your face with your hands

"What do I do?" you sigh into your hands

"What's up kiddo?" you hear Beidou ask behind her, she gestures to the space next you and you give her a small nod. She sits beside you

"I think I want to give up my vision" you tell her looking back to her hands. Beidou chuckles a little

"Because of how Kaz reacts I presume?" she asks cocking her brow you nod

"I feel like I'm hurting him every time I use it" you reply, Beidou nods and knocks shoulders with you

"Ultimately it's your choice to throw it away or not" she tells you

"I can sense a 'but'" you interrupt looking to the captain, she laughs a little and nods once more

"Yes, I was getting to that" she jests lightly "I don't think you should do it, at least don't throw it to the bottom of the ocean" she tells you looking you in your eyes

"But I-" you go to say but Beidou interrupts by putting her hand up, she then shakes her head

"Let someone look after it, perhaps Kazuha" she offers, you tap your chin

"He'll blame himself if I make him keep hold of it, besides he's already worried enough about Tomo's vision I don't want to-" you stop yourself before burying your face in your hands

"It's a hard decision" Beidou tells you putting a comforting hand on your back "But if you truly think that it'll help..." she trails off

"Will you take it?" you ask her looking to her, Beidou averts eye contact

"That's a big responsibility for me to take..." she trails off

"Please," you plead "I've been trying to stop myself from using it while it's on my person but it just doesn't help" you tell her. Beidou sighs

"Drop it off to my office tomorrow night, okay?" she asks looking to you "I just want you to contemplate this a little more" she adds with a soft smile, you pout a little

"But I know-"

"I know you do... but I think that's best" she tells you "And if you ever want it back, even if you go three hours without it... you can have it back" she adds looking into your eyes "Okay?" she asks, you nod.

The evening and the next day seems to drag on, your vision is still strapped where you like to keep it. It's been quiet, the most exiting thing that you've done is spend about three hours meditating with Kazuha.

"I can sense that something is on your mind" Kazuha speaks up opening an eye to look at you, you open both your eyes to look at him. You shake your head

"No, nothing more than my normal musings" you lie with a soft smile, Kazuha frowns a little while he opens his other eye

"You're lying" he comments before lightly sighing "But you know I won't push you too much. But, I know what you're like with lots of thing on your mind" you shake your head at his words with a smile

"It's a little annoying that you know me so well" you tell him with a light laugh "But don't worry, it'll be all sorted out soon" you add knocking your knee with his. Kazuha shakes his head

"Well I'm here for you anyway" he says softly smiling at you, you smile back

And here you are three days later, your vision is hidden somewhere in Beidou's cabin. Beidou keeps mentioning that your vision is still thrumming with life, apparently on occasion the vision shines through the cloth that it's wrapped in.

You're not sure if Kazuha has taken notice of the absense of your vision. But you certianly have. It's odd only using your weapon, especially considering that most of your life you've had your vision on you. You keep tripping and getting slightly cornered every time you want to use the power but you can't find it. It almost makes you want to pick the vision back up, but you know inside you can't.

"I figured it out" Kazuha breaks the silence as the two of you walk back to the Alcor

"Figured what out?" you inquire "Life, the universe, and everything?" you ask in jest. Kazuha shakes his head

"No, why you've been so weird the last few days" he replies looking to you, you stop in your tracks

"Oh and that is?" you ask in a teasing tone

"You don't have your vision on you" he tells you stopping a few paces in front of you, you look to your feet "Why?" he asks. It's your turn to sigh

"I just wanted to see if I could fight without it" you lie to him, Kazuha huffs

"Lies" he tells you "You've been avoiding the conversation for three days, I'm concerned" he adds stepping towards you

"It's just, it's just complicated" you tell him crossing your arms, Kazuha matches you and crosses his own arms

"More complicated than following a known Inazuman fugitive?" he asks with a cock of his brow, you look away from him

"It's nothing Kazuha" you tell him, he sighs

"I know I said the other day that I didn't want to push you, but I'm concerned" he reiterates, you shake your head "Did something happen that I'm not aware of? Like with your vision?" he quizzes, you sigh again

"I gave it up okay" you tell him flailing your arms in the air "Because I hate seeing you in so much inner pain every time I use my vision" you add tears prickling in your eyes "There you got it out of me, okay?" you ask walking past him

"It was about me?" he asks turning as you walk past him. Kazuha frowns a little "You didn't have to-"

"But I did" you tell him quietly stopping in your tracks “It hurts so much to see you flinch whenever I use electro. I don’t want to hurt you Kazuha” you turn to him. Kazuha smiles a little 

“I’m flattered that you think about me so much” he tells you placing a hand on your shoulder “But I don’t want you to sacrifice your vision for my comfort, the fear I have will pass quicker when I realise that not all electro is bad” he adds tilting his head a little

“I just don’t like to see you hurting” you tell him looking down. Kazuha chuckles a little

“You could have come to me and we could have spoken about it” he tells you pulling you into a hug “That doesn’t matter though” he adds with a light chuckle “We can work through it all while you still hold your vision” he tells you after a few moments of silence

“Maybe...” you trail off “I’ll follow your lead for whatever makes you the most comfortable”

“Once we get back lets talk about it properly over dinner”

[ichorai]

pearls and pastries ; j.jk

pairing ; pirate!jungkook x baker!reader (gender-neutral)

summary ; a crew of pirates have been pilfering your village for several weeks now and one particularly keen buccaneer has stopped by your bakery practically every visit; whether it be for the delectable pastries or for the sweet baker he's taken an interest to, jungkook couldn’t say. but there’s a catch - the baker doesn’t know that he’s a pirate.

themes ; fantasy, angst, fluff, pining, slight action, pirate au, baker au, medieval au

words ; 3.6k

warnings / includes ; descriptions of weaponry, stealing (from the rich), jungkook being a sad lovesick sap, pirate!bts, poetic sadness but when do i not do angst lmfao everything i touch turns into written sorrow </3

a/n ; written for the @ficscafe fic exchange event for @sunshinerainbowsbts !! i hope you like it <3 i'm definitely considering writing a part two to this :D

Jungkook wasn’t quite fond of parrots. Well, his mislike wasn’t necessarily directed towards the multi-hued rotund bird itself, but the fact that the wretched thing was squawking out a poor rendition of what Jungkook had announced earlier whilst clambering down the crow’s nest.

“I’m going to the bakery! I’m going to the bakery! I’m going to the bakery!” the winged devil screeched from atop Jimin’s shoulder, ruffling its bright feathers as if taunting him.

Shooting it the nastiest of scowls, Jungkook reached behind his head to untie the vermilion bandana holding his overgrown locks away from his narrowed eyes. “You better shut that bird up before I toss it to the sharks, Jimin.”

“If I let you do that, I’d also have to throw you overboard. The both of you are equally annoying,” the other pirate snorted in contempt, glancing up at his younger friend striding across the ship before moving his gaze back to the knapsack he was emptying for the pilfer. Out fell several empty bottles of rum, a few gold pieces glinting in the harsh midday sun, two jewel-encrusted daggers, and a worn eyepatch that suspiciously looked to be the same as the one Yoongi always wore over his left eye. “You seem to forget that we’re here to steal from the rich, not buy fancy breads! You’re lucky that Namjoon has half the decency not to kick you off the boat. Jin, however fond he is of you, still calls you a moocher.”

Rouge faintly dusted across Jungkook’s cheekbones as he coughed into his fist, lifting his shoulder in a half-shrug. “I steal stuff sometimes,” he muttered under his breath. It was useless to defend himself against someone who saw straight through him.

“Sometimes, my foot!” Jimin scoffed, hiking the bag over his shoulders. “Bringing back a goblet you found rolling down the street doesn’t count, you know that, right?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes to the cloudless sky, far too stubborn to admit that Jimin was right. With not another word, the young pirate clambered off of the large vessel and onto the rickety docks, grunting upon landing. It didn’t bother him much that Jimin was irked at his lack of contribution. They were rich enough as it is; what was the rush?

The air was tangy with sea salt and damp wood as he inhaled a deep breath, setting off for your bakery. Walking there took exactly three hundred and seventy two steps. Jungkook had memorized the shortest route to your little shop, mumbling the numbers under his breath with a growing grin blossoming across his lips. He subconsciously rolled the sleeves of his white tunic down, the fabric concealing the pirate tattoos inked all over his arms.

When the youthful sea wolf stepped foot into your store, a familiar chiming of the bell hooked atop the door echoed across the cream-walled room. At the reverberating sound, your head peeked out from the kitchen situated in the back. An illuminating beam danced on your features, eyes lighting up with mirth at the sight of Jungkook.

It made the muscle within his chest slam against his ribcage, desperate to be freed from its confines because it belonged to you, and only you. He wasn’t quite sure when the sudden fixation for the village baker his crew was stealing from started, but he had acclimated to his own change of heart by visiting you as often as he could.

“Fancy seeing you here today. Are you coming in or are you now my human door stopper?” Your heavenly voice floated towards Jungkook, snapping him out of his thoughts. Sheepish, he shuffled inside, engulfed by the warm scents of chocolate cakes, powdered pastries, caramelized fruits, and toasted almonds. His stomach gave an impatient snarl at the sight of tempting desserts. You had also walked to the front of the counter, dusting your flour covered hands on an apron. Some of the white powder had managed to smudge on your cheek, and Jungkook had to resist the urge to reach over and thumb it away.

“Hi,” he said with the brightest of grins. “I’ve missed you.”

At his bold statement, you suppressed a chortle. “I think you missed those chocolate cream puffs you like so much, not me. What’ve you been up to while you were gone?”

Jungkook hesitated at that. For the short amount of time he’d been visiting you, not once had he mustered the courage to tell you of his true origins. A savage pirate like him shouldn’t even be around the likes of you. You had no idea that he was part of the crew that was robbing your village, and the very thought of you finding out had him terrified. You were a taste of all the goodness in the world, and Jungkook was afraid you’d crumble into ash if he dared touch you. The sinner had no rights touching an angel, after all.

“Visiting family,” he hummed, quick to move on. If you noticed his strange demeanor, you didn’t say anything. For that, Jungkook was grateful. “I brought something for you.”

There was something about your smile that seemed to expel any and all feelings of gloom in a room. Jungkook was no exception to this feat, his knees almost buckling against the soft pink counters. He righted himself by leaning his elbows on top and propping his chin up with a palm. Gods, he didn’t know he was in this deep.

“Oh?” you set your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side. “To what do I owe such pleasures?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “For those cream cheese tarts you made me last time I visited. Thought I’d repay you.” Whilst saying this, he used his free hand to reach into his back pocket, fishing out a string of authentic pearls, adorned with a glimmering clasp of gold the same hue as the sun.

Your smile melted into a confused pucker, brows knitting together in a muted painting of hesitance, yet you ogled the expensive necklace dangling by one of his spindly fingers nonetheless. Where on earth had he gotten such a valuable treasure? “But you already paid me with money. I really can’t take that, Jungkook.”

Disappointment was easily detected as he slanted his lips to the side. “Alright, then.” He tucked the pearls back into his pocket. It surprised you how easily he had complied.

The worrisome atmosphere was quick to dissolve when the bell jangled once more. A small child meandered in with a toothy beam, holding a small pouch of clattering coins in their palm. They were no taller than Jungkook’s midriff, and he liked it a little more than he should have watching a certain softness adorn your features at the sight of the kid.

“I recommend the cinnamon apple pie. Or maybe the brown sugar crepes if you’re looking for something sweeter,” Jungkook said, gesturing to the treat behind the display glass. The child angled their head to stare at the taller man with wonder. “Anything Y/N makes is to die for, though.”

The child excitedly babbled something in return, but you didn’t quite pick up what they had said. You were far too focused on Jungkook’s animated features when he kneeled down to point at some more desserts. Sure, he was a handsome man, you’ve known that since day one. You’ve never really looked at him in this light. It was as if he were carved from pure luminosity, whittled by the hand of the most skilled sculptor. Everything about him was practically perfect; the gentle slope of his nose, the angles of his raised eyebrows, the dappled rouge of his lips, the beauty marks mottling his dewy skin, the dangerous cuts of his jaw, the twinkle of gaiety you found in his irises. With the sunlight filtering through the windows, it basked Jungkook within a golden radiance, the shadows casted along his face only highlighting his best features, doing nothing to aid your fluttering pulse. Has he always been this beautiful?

“I’ll have a slice of apple pie!”

The sudden clinking of coins being dumped onto the counter snapped you out of your trance, and you kindly wrapped up what the child ordered and handed them the paper bag. Both you and Jungkook watched as they smiled in thanks and trotted out of the bakery. Curse his handsome physique.

A little flustered by your earlier thoughts, you busied your hands by sorting the coins the kid had coughed up. Jungkook, ever the kind soul, merely stood with you as you worked, engaging you in entertaining conversations to keep you occupied while your store was empty. Where did the sun go once it disappeared down the horizon? Why did everybody else seem to enjoy the bitter taste of coffee except him? Why did his heart beat so quickly when around you? The last question he couldn’t muster the courage to ask, and much to his perturbation, he already knew the answer. You enjoyed Jungkook’s company very much; to the point where you couldn’t quite remember what it was like before he had sauntered into your life.

Before the both of you knew it, the sun was already setting. Jungkook noticed the way you deflated just slightly when red kissed the sky. It was a telltale sign that Jungkook was long overdue to go back to his ship. Yoongi would have his ass if he was late again. The whole situation was ridiculous, really. He felt like a fairy tale princess running away from the ball before his clothes grew into tatters. Well, in his case, he supposed it’d be pirate-wear.

Your smile betrayed only the gentlest hint of disappointment as you thrusted a bag of warm cookies into his arms. “Take this for the road,” you had said.

And so Jungkook did, smiling like an idiot the whole way back. A part of him absentmindedly wondered what your face would look like when you noticed that he had left the pearls on the countertop for you.

The ship rocked as the young pirate scampered across the deck at a startling speed, flinging the doors to the cabins open. Six older pirates stared at his panting form, a few looking on with unsurprised indifference, most glaring at him in disappointment. Jimin merely stuck his tongue out, his childish way of saying I told you so. There was expectancy in the captain’s eyes, but it waned away at an instant upon seeing that Jungkook carried nothing of value. Namjoon pinched the space between his brows in mild frustration.

Stiffly, Jungkook jerked his arm to thrust the bag in his hand forward. “Cookie?” he asked. Nobody said anything. Jungkook slowly brought his appendage back down, guilt roiling in his abdomen. “I take it you guys don’t want the cookies?”

With a huff, Namjoon stalked forward. “Of course we want the cookies, give me that.” He snatched the bag out of Jungkook’s hands and tossed it to Taehyung, who caught it with eagerness vividly splayed across his ruffled features. “I do have to admit, we’re getting tired of you bringing back nothing but sweets every time we go on raids, Jungkook. C’mon, kid, this is a team effort here. Look, just today Yoongi managed to steal a dozen coffers from a nobleman. The least you can do is try.” True to the captain’s word, there was a mountain of chests and boxes full to the brim with gold coins and shimmering jewels piled to the side of the cabin.

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Jungkook nodded in understanding, though not without a miniscule frown twinging his lips. What was a pirate without his treasure, right?

Taking note of his glum demeanor, Namjoon clapped a hand to the younger man’s shoulder. “We’re not mad at you—”

Yoongi snorted at that.

“We just… want to help you help us,” Namjoon finished, ignoring the salty pirate’s quip from behind him.

The youngest man on deck raised his hand to his forehead in an awkward salute. “Yes cap’n!” Shame prowled within his chest; just thinking about the dishonor he brought to the pirate reputation by loitering in a bakery all day, ogling at sugary treats (and the sweet baker, but Jungkook digresses).

A part of him felt even worse knowing that he’d see you less and less, what with the other pirates breathing down his neck. He could only hope that you’d still look forward to his visits, though few and far in between.

Authentic bottles of expensive wines were shoved into his knapsack by Taehyung, lacing chains of aureate crammed into his hands by Hoseok, bars of cold silver wedged into the pits of his arms by Jimin, and more treasures thrown at the youngest pirate to hold as they lithely ran across the village. Being one of the stronger and more agile ones of the group had its downfalls, after all. He was being treated like a pack mule, hauling all the treasure for them. Not that he was going to complain; Jungkook knew that he deserved the rough-housing.

“Hold onto these for me, will you?” Yoongi gruffly uttered as he slid the thick hilts of gem-encrusted daggers into his belt. Jungkook complied hesitantly, but not without a suppressed groan of annoyance. “They’ll sell for more than a pretty penny, so don’t lose them.” The older pirate seemed to be in a grumpier than usual mood, considering he lost his eyepatch and the mottled scar crossing over his eye was on display for anybody to gawk at. It would’ve been worrying to Jungkook if he wasn’t aware of the fact that Jimin was merely prolonging his juvenile game of ‘keep away’, attempting to dance away from Yoongi’s inevitable wrath.

Perhaps being a pirate wasn’t his true calling, because Jungkook found that his mind kept wandering off to the matters at hand—running away from the guards. Though it was a relatively easy task (the guards were quite thick-headed in this village), he thought about the pretty plants dangling from the balconies of a building they jogged by, or the scents of exotic spices carried by the souq market not far from where they were. Most of all, much to his expectancy, his thoughts were centered around you. Had you gotten many customers for lunch rush? Were you lonely without him? How many times have you smiled today? Jungkook was all too fond of your smile.

Blinded by his unsaid affectionate ramblings, he only barely caught on to Namjoon’s quiet, “We shook the guards off for now. Be careful next time, Seokjin. The sun’s about to set soon; we should head back to the ship before it gets dark.”

Jungkook hissed out a small sigh of relief, bending over to catch his breath. Jogging across the village would have been no problem, but running with treasures twice his weight draped all over him was a different story.

When he righted himself back to standing, the sudden pit of shocked trepidation unfurled within his abdomen. There you were, beautiful as ever, but a terrifying sight to see. Normally you’d be the only person he would want to see, but as of this moment, you were the absolute last person he fancied bumping into.

Why now? He had the most rotten of luck.

Today you weren’t wearing your regular apron, but a pair of fitted grey trousers and a soft beige blouse far too large for you, hanging off of one of your shoulders as you cradled a basket of breads and cheeses and other groceries in your arms. It was a simple outfit, but one that made his heart clench nonetheless. The glinting of iridescent pearls draped over your décolletage had his breath stolen away from him as raw sentiment overtook his form. You were wearing the pearls he left for you and you never looked more beautiful. Jungkook, on the other hand, was clad in clothes that practically screamed pirate; a golden-clasped corset tightened about the small of his waist, a tattered white button-up tucked into his dark trousers, worn sea boots covering his feet. A large gun was also slung over the belt cinched around his hips, along with multiple daggers of the like, and not to mention all the riches and jewelry the other boys had thrown at him.

You couldn’t see him. No, it would absolutely ruin Jungkook.

Perhaps dropping everything he was holding in a panicked effort to dash away as quickly as he could was the worst possible thing he could have done to not warrant any attention.

The concerned and confused questions erupting from the other pirates as they whipped their heads towards their youngest comrade went completely ignored. He scampered away from them, lunging towards a shadowed alley and hiding behind a teetering pile of musty boxes. A stray cat nuzzled against his leg, but Jungkook merely shooed it away with a frustrated glare and not-so-subtle shushing gestures.

What a fool I am, the young buccaneer berated himself, pressing a knuckle against his temple in frustration. He waited for another minute, before slinking out from the shadows, peering around the corner to see if you were still there.

No sign of you. Relief seized his chest, but not without the gentlest flower of disappointment staining whatever solace he felt, a weed amongst the roses. Jungkook’s mind was still reeling from the fact that you were wearing his pearls.

Treading carefully, he strode out of the alley, turning the other direction before halting in his tracks completely. A queer, garbled noise tumbled past his lips.

It was you, a confused smile gracing your features, and all Jungkook could think about was how the sunlight was made for you, how you glowed in front of him, how he wanted to cradle you into his chest and murmur confessions of his pure, unadulterated love into your ear. But Jungkook didn’t do any of that. Instead, he merely stood there, as if he was imitating a statue in all of his pirate glory. Terrified, regretful, and ever so angry at himself.

Fate was a cruel game.

The pearls shone prettily on your skin. A reminder of the best mistake he’s ever made.

Your eyes had yet to wander down to fully take in his appearance, for your expression still held fondness for the man that’s visited your bakery so often, still having no idea that he was a filthy pirate, locked into his molten gaze. “I think you dropped something…?” The golden chains dangled loose between your fingers as you held them out to him. Jungkook didn’t take them, frozen on the spot.

It was as if he could pinpoint the exact moment you found out his true origins. Your brows furrowed upon seeing the weaponry strapped onto him, one of his pirate tattoos on display (Jungkook cursed himself for not thinking of rolling his sleeve back down), and the six other men watching in silent despondency behind them. You had always been a sharp one, far too smart for your own good.

Or, perhaps, it's always been obvious. Jungkook was only wishing for the impossible.

“You’re a pirate.”

The statement wedged a stake into his chest, splintering his heart into pieces. When you stepped away from him, confused horror marring your beautiful features, Jungkook knew that it was over.

He lost you.

A flurry of emotions, overwhelming and tumultuous, evidently took over you at his lack of denial. You looked to be just as heartbroken as he was.

“You’re a pirate,” you repeated, dazed. You wanted him to say something, anything. Much to his surprise, you didn’t sound angry. You took several steps back this time. The weight of pearls around your neck suddenly felt choking.

The sudden calling of his name had his head whipping around to look at his captain, watching the brutal exchange with gentle sternness. “We have to go.” The guards’ll be coming soon, no doubt.

Jungkook looked back to you, any and all words lodged in his throat. Despite the fear in your irises, a soft expression of acceptance folded over your visage, for under all his pirate exterior, he was still the same man that you thought so fondly of from your bakery. The look was short-lived however, quick to fade away when Jungkook reached out for you hesitantly. A part of him pondered how a simple baker managed to steal from the stealer. You had robbed him of his heart, and Jungkook didn’t even try to stop you.

Upon seeing you inch away in mortification at your new revelation, Jungkook retracted his arm and pursed his lips. The agony clawing at his stomach was begging to be set free. He wanted nothing more than to get onto his knees and plead for your forgiveness.

I’m sorry I lied. I’m sorry I’m not the man you thought I was. I’m sorry I fell in love with you.

His name came out again, this time from Yoongi. That meant it was serious.

“I’ll come back,” Jungkook said, tears rimming the bottom of his warm doe eyes. You watched him start to trek backwards. “I promise.” The words felt heavy on his tongue, like he was swallowing down a knot of thorned ivy.

Before you had the chance to say anything back, he was gone, bounding back to his ship with his comrades. Not long after, the distant barks of guards pursuing them rang throughout the village. You took that as your cue to leave. Swallowing down the urge to cry, you forced your eyes away.

You hoped he wouldn’t uphold his promise, for the both of your sakes.

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Request: Imagine being Lin Beifong’s daughter and having a crush on Iroh II

Tags: @tincdraws

Growing up as the daughter of Lin Beifong metal and earth bending were your whole life. You learnt to earth bend by the time you could walk and your mother had you in training from a young age so you graduated from the earth bending school at the top of your class with your eyes firmly set on following in your mother’s footsteps whilst also trying to emulate your grandmother’s success. You had a sharp focus and nothing else really caught your attention. You had friends but training came first and dating seemed something superficial you could live without. Republic city was your life and you would never dream of leaving it but your mother had other ideas.

Your mother thought you needed more worldly experience before you joined the police force so she sent you to the fire nation to gain some training as an officer. She claimed the fire nation had some of the best officers in the world and that they would help you learn invaluable real-life experience. You did not agree and protested the whole thing. All your training had revolved around the needs of Republic City specifically and you couldn’t see how you’d learn anything new about how to protect your city by travelling all the way to fire nation but your mother refused to change her mind and that was that.

So you were shipped off to the fire nation fresh out of the academy. Your mother had spoken to Firelord Izumi and it was agreed you’d be staying at the palace so not only would you be unfamiliar with the environment, you’d be in a place where every small look, word or action had large consequences. You didn’t know much about the fire nation and couldn’t really recall the royal family. You were aware your grandmother was very close with the late Firelord Zuko but since then things had changed. Although your grandmother’s friends (mainly Katara) had tried to keep the group close it was hard with everyone scattered across the four nations and so with each generation the group had drifted further and further apart. You knew Firelord Izumi had a daughter older than you and a son around your age called Iroh. You recalled meeting Iroh when you were younger at some event in the south pole but couldn’t remember much more than a serious fire nation child. So you arrived on the steps of the palace utterly out of your depth determined to see these three months through so you could return to your beloved city. You were shown into the palace immediately, your belongings taken by maids who refused to let you carry them yourself as you were a royal guest. You weren’t used to finery so proceeded through the palace partly in awe and partly in utter confusion why someone needed this many paintings of old men everywhere. You were finally shown into a large room. “Ah you must be y/n Beifong” a voice called and you turned to see someone who looked vaguely familiar. You knew he wasn’t Firelord Zuko or Firelord Izumi’s husband as he was too young so figured by his royal outfit this was Izumi’s second child the prince. “Prince Iroh, it’s an honour to see you again” you said bowing and he chuckled “I bet you thought that would be a winning line with any fire nation citizen didn’t you? Because we’re still all obsessed with honour like we were centuries ago?” Iroh asked and you hesitated. “If I caused any offence...” you started but Iroh cut you off breaking out in a large smile “no I was only kidding, it is a winning line we are still obsessed with honour”. You watched as Iroh laughed at his own joke surprised, you didn’t expect the prince of the fire nation to be like this. You figured royalty lacked the ability or the clearance to have a sense of humour but apparently not. “So have I really not changed since we were eight?” Iroh asked and when you frowned he elaborated “you recognised me but the last time we met was just over ten years ago”. You paused “ow no I didn’t actually recognise you, you were young, dressed in fine clothes with royal hairpins, not to mention you’re in the palace...you had to be the prince”. “Good deductions officer” Iroh said saluting you before he grinned “i’m in training too”. That piqued your interest “really? for the fire nation army?”. He nodded “yep! I’m an officer but my hope is to be general one day and to fully earn it, rather than just get it because of who my family is...hopefully in a few years i’ll get there”. “I’m sure you will” you agreed and Iroh led you into a large dining room. “Are we dining alone?” you asked confused and Iroh smirked. “Why? Not pleased with me?” he asked and you rushed to assure him that wasn’t the case when he laughed again “I’m joking again y/n, I know my grandfather told you the whole family would be dining with you in his letter to your mother but he, my parents and sister were all called away to an urgent matter and asked me to fill in as we’re similar ages”. “Ow” you nodded “that makes sense...is everything okay?”. Iroh nodded “everything’s fine just boring fire nation stuff...so shall we?” he asked holding out his arm to you. You weren’t sure if this was appropriate so averted your eyes and only took his arm lightly. Iroh smirked at your caution and led you into the room.

The meal with Iroh was nice. He was friendly, hard-working and interesting. You soon got used to his humour and learnt not to take him too seriously. You hadn’t met many other people your age who shared your passion for a military career and found it was nice, a sentiment Iroh apparently shared. He enquired what you were doing the rest of the week and when you replied nothing as training didn’t start for another week he soon had several of your days planned out with fire nation sights to show you. Iroh seemed to understand you didn’t know much about the fire nation so planned to take you to all the important sites as well as areas relevant to the army to peak both your interests. You enjoyed the prince’s tours greatly and even when training did start you continued meeting with Iroh regularly. You liked his company and were surprised that didn’t fade the more time you spent with him, if anything it grew more and more. You thought he’d be a spoilt entitled prince but he was kind and considerate pleasantly surprising you.

You didn’t become aware that you liked Iroh as anything more until one of your friends at the academy pointed it out. Since starting training you were progressing well, you achieved high grades and were held in high esteem by your fellow recruits. You had made some friends and often trained with them after the academy retired for the day. After a long training session you were heading to the palace when one of your friends called out to you “hey y/n some of us were going into town to celebrate our class’s good progress, do you want to come?”. You smiled pleased they wanted you to come when you remembered you couldn’t go “I’d love to Shani but sorry I can’t I have plans”. “Of course you do” she smirked as your other friend Aizori grinned “is it with Iroh by any chance”. “Actually it is” you said frowning at their shared look “why?”. “Ow nothing just it’s not every day your friend is dating the crowned prince”. “Me and Iroh are not dating!” you cried “our families are old friends that’s all”. “Uh...hu, if that’s true then what are your plans together may we ask?”. “We’re attending a party at the palace”. “Together?” Shani asked and you blushed “yes but he only asked me because it’s a formal event that’s apparently really boring so he wanted a friend there, trust me we’re not dating”. “But how can you resist?” Aizori asked “I’ve only seen the prince a handful of times but he seems to get better looking every single time! How don’t you get lost in those golden eyes and that chiselled jaw? The royal family has some amazing genes not even a Beifong can resist”. You paused considering it. For you looks weren’t very important so you didn’t tend to notice them. You held work ethic and determination as much higher priorities and Iroh scored very highly in both but in looks...you honestly couldn’t say. “I’m not sure I’ve noticed” you admitted and the girls rolled their eyes not believing you.

When you arrived back at the palace your friend’s words were ringing in your head and when you next saw Iroh something felt different. You took note of his looks and were surprised by what you’d found. Iroh was attractive, very attractive, how had you missed that? You stared at Iroh wondering if his eyes had always been that bright? Was his jaw always that sharp? His hair that good regularly when he frowned “why are you staring at me?”. “Nothing” you cried and he paused before shrugging “Are you ready to go?” he asked “the party has already started” offering you his arm. You nodded and took it cautiously following Iroh into the ballroom.

You could see why Iroh had wanted to invite you, everyone in the room was at least 60 years old or some stiff nobel person from an ancient line of fire nation families. All they seemed to want to discuss was old family bloodlines, territories or ancient traditions. After your fifth boring ambush by some old fire nation man Iroh pointedly headed for the gardens. You frowned as he exited discreetly, closing the door behind him, and headed away from the hall. “Iroh I’m pretty sure the party is inside” you commented and Iroh grinned “I know but I can’t take another second in there so humour me? One lap of the gardens then we’ll head back, please? I know you haven’t seen them properly yet so how about a tour?” Iroh holding out his hand to you. You rolled your eyes but took his hand happily. 

Iroh led you around the gardens explaining the different flora to you and their history. “I spent so many parties hiding in here as a kid” he grinned “this place is so huge they couldn’t find me for hours”. You smiled at the thought “my mother would’ve killed me if I did that”. “Mine did” Iroh chuckled “but I’d honestly rather face her wrath than some boring commander who wants to lecture me about our family’s history and why it’s so important...they’re literally my own family and even I don’t care” Iroh cried making you smile. “I see why you escaped out here so often, I’m very grateful formal parties were not a part of my childhood”. Iroh smiled and went to comment when the smile was wiped from his face and he grabbed you, quickly pushing you behind a large fern. “Iroh what are you...”. “Shhh they’ve come for us” he hissed and you frowned when you heard a voice. “Prince Iroh?” a man you recognised as the palace coordinator called “Are you out here? You’re needed inside”. You smirked and Iroh rolled his eyes “they’re relentless”.  “Master Iroh if you’re out there please return to the ballroom, your mother’s orders”. There was silence and then the sound of the butler coming closer. Your eyes widened and Iroh put a hand over your mouth pushing you further into the bushes. “Prince Iroh?” a voice called literally right beside you and Iroh smirked as you grabbed his arm in surprise. You heard a sigh and the sound of the man retreating. When the footsteps died away Iroh dropped his hold on you and you both burst into laughter. “I thought we were going to be caught and then royally punished...literally” you added and Iroh smirked “I wouldn���t let them punish you, it’s not your fault I dragged you out here”. “True but I didn’t try hard to stop you”. “You did encourage me” Iroh nodded thinking “okay it’s all your fault”. You gaped laughing “I never said that! You are such a liar” you cried pushing him and Iroh laughed grabbing your arm “okay okay maybe we share the blame 50:50?”. “No way” you smiled and Iroh paused “60:40?”. “I think 90:10?” you said grinning and Iroh sighed “fine, i’ll take 10% of the blame”. You shook your head at how wonderfully infuriating he was and smiled at him fondly. Iroh grinned back and you realised suddenly how close his face was to yours. Iroh seemed to notice too, he glanced down at your lips and you panicked moving away from him suddenly. There was an awkward tension in the air and you broke it with a cough “so want to show me more of the gardens then?”. Iroh nodded “right this way my lady” the awkwardness gone and led you further into the garden.

When you were safely hidden from the ballroom Iroh stopped walking, explaining this was one of his favourite spots in the whole garden and you gratefully took a break sitting down. “I can’t believe you’ve already been here a month” Iroh commented and you nodded “I know only 2 more to go then my mandatory 3 months work experience is done”. Iroh frowned “mandatory...so you could stay longer if you wanted to?”. “Hypothetically” you agreed and Iroh hesitated “do you think you’d extend it? Hypothetically?”. You paused “I’m not sure, I have enjoyed the fire nation far more than I thought I would but I’ve always wanted to complete my training as quickly as possible, I hope to be chief of police one day and I’ll need many years of service for that...”. Iroh frowned “isn’t the youngest chief like 41?”. You nodded “yeah so i’ve got time I guess, maybe i’ll stay for longer...is this just so you have someone to skirt your royal duties with?”. Iroh laughed “maybe...I like you being here, it’s nice not being the only person under 30 in every room”. You smiled “well i’m glad my presence isn’t displeasing to you...you’ve been pleasant as well” you added blushing and Iroh grinned. “Wait did I make a Beifong blush? That’s like a legendary occurrence, this is amazing!”. “Stop it” you cried but Iroh wouldn’t let you turn away “no, this will go down in history, Beifong blushes are rarer than dragons so I’m soaking up every second”. For the second time that day Iroh stared at you closely and you blushed more under his gaze but this time you didn’t move away. Iroh continued gazing at you before he lightly moved his hand to your cheek “y/n...” he said softly leaning in closer when a figure appeared. “There you are!” a voice cried and you both jumped away from one another. Your jaw dropped when you realised who it was and you dropped into a bow “Firelord Izumi...i’m so sorry I didn’t see you approach”. “Rise child you did nothing wrong” she said warmly “my son on the other hand...” she trailed off glancing at Iroh who paled. “Hey mom” he frowned and she raised an eyebrow “really? That’s all you have to say? No apology or grovelling”. “Erm I’m sorry for ditching?” Iroh offered and Izumi sighed. “Y/n would you please excuse us, I want to have a word with my son”. “Of course” you agreed bowing and you rushed away.

Iroh returned not long after with his mother and told you he had to stay in the ballroom for the rest of the party. You agreed to stay with him and he smiled gratefully at you making you blush and look away rapidly. The night passed and neither you nor Iroh spoke about what happened in the garden. How he’d almost kissed you and how you were going to let him. You couldn’t believe your own recklessness. What good did you think would come out of kissing the prince of the fire nation? You were obviously not an appropriate match and so there was nothing to be encouraged there. You resolved to never find yourself in that situation again and decided to just stay as friends no matter how much you got along or how attractive he was. Getting involved with a fire nation prince was not responsible behaviour. So after that night you made sure to put distance between you and Iroh. You didn’t stop seeing him you just made sure to emphasise it was a friendship. You didn’t let yourself get caught up in him the way you had in the gardens and always kept a level head. Iroh never tried anything or mentioned that night either and you supposed he picked up on your not so subtle hints. You carried on as before but there was definitely an unmentioned barrier between you which you never let fade.

You left the fire nation 2 months later. You didn’t extend your stay as with your feelings for Iroh you didn’t think it would be wise. Iroh saw you off and hugged you tightly before you got onto the airship. “It’s been nice having you around Beifong, I’ll miss you”. Iroh’s words made you hesitate and you hugged him tighter. For that time in Iroh’s arms you imagined what would have happened if you’d kissed him in the gardens that night. Iroh didn’t strike you as someone who flitted from person to person taking what he wanted, you think if he wanted to kiss you he must have felt something for you too and perhaps would have suggested dating. You imagined all the things you’d have done together but as a couple and wondered if you’d made a mistake, maybe you should have just gone for it? But then reality set in. If you really wanted to be chief of police then you couldn’t have short relationships with high ranking members of the fire nation. Other candidates could use it to show you had compromised morals and there was no way it would be a long term relationship due to your lack of fire nation heritage. Sure the fire nation was pretty progressive but that didn’t really apply to royalty. They had thousand-year-old traditions to uphold that couldn’t be broken easily so Iroh was never a long term option for you. Therefore all logical signs said you’d done the correct thing not persuing something with him...so why did it feel so shit? You finally pulled away from Iroh and he noticed your expression. “What’s wrong?” he asked and you shook your head looking away “nothing i’ll just miss it here...promise you’ll keep in touch?”. “Cross my heart” Iroh smiled “you’re not someone I intend to let slip away, expect a visit every time I come to republic city”. You pushed away the rational voice in your mind telling you to keep a distance from him and smiled “you’ll always be welcome and I’m very much looking forward to it”. Iroh blushed “thank you y/n” and you nodded back, just looking at him in admiration before catching yourself. “I should go...” and Iroh nodded “safe travels” and with a final look you walked away.

2 years later

After your departure you and Iroh stayed in regular contact and your letters only halted when he was deployed by the military but the second we was out he would write and arrange to come visit you in Republic City. You still thought about him and your feelings for him regularly and every time you saw him you knew your crush hadn’t lessened. You loved Iroh’s visits and soon they became the thing you cherished most. You told yourself all of this was fine because you’d never act on your feelings but sometimes you wondered if Iroh felt something too? You’d catch him staring at you or he’d blush if you smiled at him in a certain way. The very idea of Iroh liking you made you very excited but you also knew it would only lead to heartache. He wouldn’t be allowed to settle down with someone outside the fire nation so it didn’t matter if he liked you too. So you settled for his friendship which was more than enough for you. When Iroh was posted in republic city when he became general you were thrilled and you only continued to grow closer.

However republic city wasn’t as peaceful. There had been multiple attacks on the city from Amon’s chi blockers to Vaatu’s take over and you and Iroh were constantly pushed into the fray. Multiple times you’d faced staggering odds and every single time you wondered if you should confess your feelings to Iroh in case the unthinkable happened but every time you chickened out. You and Iroh had been safe every time but there was only so much you could push your luck.  

You’d been wary of Kuvira’s take over of the earth kingdom from the very start. Your aunt Su Yin had told you all about her so you weren’t surprised when she set her sights on Republic City but that didn’t mean you weren’t terrified. The avatar and her friends informed you what you were facing and you weren’t sure how you could even think about facing a giant mecha suit with spirit cannons. Iroh shared your sentiment but as general of Republic City’s army he was forced by President Raiko to lead his troops out there. Watching Iroh take to the front line you were swept with the desire once again to be honest with him, to tell him how you felt before it was too late. You decided three was too many times to chance it and so decided to finally tell him how you felt. You made your way to the general’s tent and found Iroh with Korra discussing strategies. You greeted them both warmly before making your way to Iroh’s side “could we please talk? I have something to tell you”. You knew Iroh had a hundred things to do but he nodded warmly squeezing your hand “of course just give me one second to...” when the radio sprang into action. President Raiko had surendering to Kuvira’s demands. Republic City was hers.

The avatar was furious and you matched her sentiment. You and Iroh joined her as she met with other leaders in the city like Tenzin and your mother and they all agreed something had to be done to stop Kuvira. A plan was quickly assembled, it was agreed that airbenders would attack the suit from the sky and earth benders would attack from the ground. You didn’t actually expect to damage the suit, you only had to distract Kuvira long enough for Korra to get inside. You were agreeing fervently getting ready to leave with your cousins when Iroh grabbed your arm. “Wait Y/n are you sure you want to do this?” he asked nervously “that mecha suit is dangerous there’s no guarantee you’ll be able to stop it”. I know but it’s my home, I swore to protect it and I won’t break my oath. I have to try and help”. Iroh sighed thinking and you watched him wondering what he’d say. “I understand why you’re doing it and I want to come too”. You paused pleasantly surprised “You do...but I thought President Raiko told you to retreat and surrender?”. “He told me to surrender the army not that I couldn’t personally engage in fighting, i’m not fighting as a general but as plain old Iroh” he announced proudly and you smiled “there’s nothing plain about you even without your titles”. Iroh beamed at you “Does this mean you agree? We can fight this giant together!”. You nodded your head “okay let’s go meet up with the others”.

You and Iroh rushed after the others and found them all suiting up. “Finally” your mother said spotting you but she frowned when she saw Iroh with you “y/n tell me you didn’t bring the general who is also the prince of the fire nation into this”. “She didn’t, I volunteered” Iroh spoke up “I’m not here as a general or as a prince but as a civilian so, where can I help?”. “You know your mother won’t like this” Tenzin commented and Iroh nodded “I know but some things are worth facing her wrath for” he said shooting you a smile and you blushed.

So it was agreed Iroh would stay. Your mother thought it would be best to place him on the roof with the airbenders, she ordered him to shoot lightning at the joints to try and cause some malfunctioning. When you’d all suited up the teams said their goodbyes and Iroh appeared in front of you. You didn’t have long, Kuvira’s giant suit was already in view and the ground shook whenever it took a single step. Iroh stared at you and sighed heavily “Y/n...”. “Don’t say it like that, we don’t have time and we’re both going to be fine okay?” you said faking a smile but Iroh saw right through it. “What did you want to tell me earlier?”. You froze caught off guard and blushed “I...I just wanted to...it doesn’t matter”. The ground jumped and Iroh looked at it nervously before stepping closer to you “I think I can guess what you were going to say”. “You can?” you asked nervously and Iroh smiled “yeah...you had another Beifong blush moment and I’ve noticed you do them around me a lot”. You went bright red and Iroh chuckled “yeah like that...”. You looked down embarrassed but Iroh took your hand gently “don’t, I blush a lot around you too”. You smiled blushing more and Iroh chuckled softly. “Y/n are you ready?” your mom asked and Iroh gripped your hand tightly. “Wait I want to tell you everything before you leave” Iroh cried but you squeezed his hand gently. “It’ll be okay” you smiled “you can tell me everything later and I think I can guess too”. Iroh grinned blushing “later then...just got to get through this”. “We’ll be fine, this is what he trained for” you smiled confidently “I promise I’ll see you on the other side”. Iroh nodded and stared at your lips, he went to move in when your mother called “y/n are you coming or are we leaving you behind”. “I’m coming!” you yelled and stepped away from Iroh “mothers” you commented and he smiled “go, i’ll see you after” and with a last look you both rushed off to your assigned group.

The battle

The fight went about as good as could be expected. The suit swatted the air benders away like flies and your group’s earth, metal and even lava bending barely slowed it down. But it didn’t matter, all that mattered was the avatar and her team managed to find a way into that thing and your team cheered when you saw she’d done just that. Now the fight was Korra’s so you let your guard down when suddenly the machine began malfunctioning. Your mother yelled for you all to take cover but you were too far away from the building. The suit exploded with a blast and you saw a blinding light and then black.

After the suit exploded everyone assumed the battle won. Half the air benders went after Korra to help her with Kuvira and the other half went to the ground to make sure the others were okay, of course Iroh went with the latter. He saw Bolin, your aunt and cousins but no sign of you or your mother. They told him they were all searching for you and he rushed to join in. With each street he passed his heart began to sink when finally he spotted you! In the arms of your mother unconscious. Iroh ran forward dropping to his knees beside you. “What happened?” he cried and your mother clutched you desperately “that thing exploded and she was too far to get into cover, it hit her sending her flying through the street and now she’s...she’s...”. Iroh saw the blood seeping through your mother’s hands where she held them against you. “No” he said viciously “y/n won’t...she can’t! We need a medic” he yelled loudly before taking off his jacket to wrap around your wound. “Maybe I can cauterise the wound?” he asked “seal it to stop her losing so much blood?”. Lin paused “I think the wounds too big but it’s worth a shot”. Iroh nodded and Lin lifted the bottom of your uniform. Iroh saw a large gash across your stomach and winced. He lit his hand on fire and pressed his hands against the wound. You gasped suddenly and your eyes shot open. “Y/n” your mother and Iroh cried in unison and you blinked trying to make sense of the situation before you groaned in pain. You tensed trying to get away from the burning but your mother held onto you “please y/n just hang on Iroh is trying to cauterise your wound”. “It’s not working” you grimaced resisting the urge to scream “Iroh stop! Please!” you cried and he yelled in frustration moving his hands away from you. “No it has to work if it doesn’t then you’ll.....we need a medic down here” he yelled again but he knew everyone else was spread out and there were no healers in the group. “It’s okay” you said breathing heavily as the situation dawned on you “Iroh it’s alright”. “No it’s not” he cried sinking onto his knees beside you “it’s not y/n, you can’t...you have to fight this, you can’t leave me”. You nodded “trust me i’m trying but Iroh if I do...”. “No y/n don’t even think about it! I won’t let you go it’s not going to happen”. “I don’t think we have a choice” you admitted trying to smile but Iroh just shook his head “but we never got our shot, we never got to talk, I never got to tell you...I love you y/n” he said simply “I have for years, that’s why I never found anyone from the fire nation because the perfect person for me is you. I know there’s traditions and rules but I don’t care, I don’t want anyone else but you. I’d give up anything for you and we were finally heading in that direction and now that stupid spirit cannon”. Tears leaked down Iroh’s face and you reached out a hand to him shakily. He took it and you stroked his face “it’s okay, i’m sorry for being too scared and cautious, I’m sorry for wasting our time together but I love you too, I hope that’s enough”. Iroh nodded “It’s more than I ever hoped, you didn’t waste time you have nothing to be sorry for y/n Beifong, do you hear me?”. “I do” you smiled before coughing in pain and your mother clutched you tighter. “Y/n” your mother cried and you smiled up at her “it’s okay mom, don’t worry. It’s all going to be okay”. You clutched her hand against your chest and took Iroh’s other one. “I’m with the two people I love the most, I’m happy. This is the best way for it to...”. “Stop” Iroh said crying but you just gripped his hand tighter “Iroh look at me”. He blinked through the tears but looked at you. “It’s okay, I promise you everything will be okay”. Iroh just said your name softly and rested his head against yours. Your mother wrapped her arms around both of you and you held onto both of them the best you could when you felt the world fading away. You heard sobbing and your mother faintly saying your name until everything turned dark and it was over.

Epilogue

Following your death the fire nation, earth kingdom and republic city all paid their respects in their traditional fashions. A statue was raised by your mother in the spot of your death and every year on the anniversary of your death both her and Iroh would visit it. Iroh and your mother supported one another following your death being the only one’s who understood how monumental the loss of your life was. They managed to get through it together and although neither of them ever stopped loving you they found a way to carry on. Iroh never married, he couldn’t even consider the idea and his family never pushed him to. He still lived a long and happy life. He was very involved with his sister’s children who he loved dearly and his family never stopped supporting him. If he went quiet and got a teary look in his eye or if he struggled serving in the earth kingdom they understood. Your family also treated him like one of their own, with Lin even calling him her son on a few occasions, and he was invited to all your family’s events in recognition of your love for him. Your memory never faded and when Iroh’s life eventually ended he passed on to find you waiting for him. He knew all the suffering and heartache was over, you were finally together at last. 

____

So initially I was going to write a happy ending as well but then I thought screw it, I want to cry so I killed off the reader...but I can release the happy ending as a part two if anyone wants it. 

Edit: For the happy ending version click here

[fueselwe]

I already said what I‘m doing

Human metabolism

After a sudden and unexpected acquaintance, the Quorn leaders are to meet with human ambassadors in the first in-person meeting to discuss first contact.

The meeting room was carefully prepared to be comfortable for Quorn, with the room temperature being exactly 10 quans, which is the optimal temperature for a Quorn.

The human ambassador and some guards enter, wearing formal clothing, looking stern and having what seemed to be a scientist with them. They sit down and try to initiate the conversation;

"So, we understand that we haven't met under the best of terms, but we want to assure you that we see this as a mistake and that we pursue only t-" the human suddenly stops, breathing in what could be only approximated as exhaustion, "I'm sorry. I know this is a formal meeting, but can I please take my jacket off?". The ambassador starts waving his hand into his direction.

The Qorn are confused at first, but politely answer "We- uhhh, don't mind". "Phew, thanks" says the human as he removes the upper part of his uniform, revealing a quite muscular upper body covered by a white tank top which looked weirdly damp. After that the other humans followed suit, only the scientist keeping their white coat.

"So with that out of the way," he continues, still waving his hand, "We assure you that we only wish for a peaceful coexistance, and that our first encounter was a misunderstanding. I want to personally apologise for any damage or injuries sustained", he said, now panting and fanning himself with the papers they brought.

The Quorn leaders were relieved to hear their commitment to non-aggression. They were about to start discussing the details when the human interrupted them again. "*Huff* I'm so sorry *huff*, but could you please *puff* turn down the heat in here? *pant*, Man, it's scorching in here... "

The Quorn leaders were stunted; "B- but we made sure that the room was in optimal condition, it's 10 quans, that should be perfect...", the human squints his eyes, "10 quans? How much is that?", he looks at the scientist, who looked like they were waiting for this. "So I've done a little research and measured some things and 10 quans is about 45°C".

The ambassador looks baffled. "Forty five?! that's- oh damn, is there a fan around here?", the scientist, who came prepared, takes one out of their case and puts it on the table. Switching it on caused the ambassador as well his guards to crowd around it, sighing in relief.

The Quorn ask, "May we ask about your need to cool yourself down? How did you survive like that? And why do you petrude this liquid from your bodies?". "It's a thing called sweating" says the ambassador, gesturing at the scientist again who, by now, has also taken off their coat and dropped the formal tone out of necessity.

"So... most life on our planet has a coat of fur on their skin to preserve warmth, but over time and through evolution humans lost that fur coat and gained access to sweat glands, which excrete liquid when the body heats up that allows for easier temperature exchange with it's surroundings, cooling the body down".

The Quorn leader only looks more baffled. "But why would you want to lose heat? It's precious and must be conserved, please elaborate". The scientist continues: "It's hard to explain without diving ludicrously deep into biology, but in short it's that human metabolism produces a lot of energy in the form of heat, to a point where it becomes uncormfortable"

The Quorn still asks, "But such a system would require hundreds of doons of food per day, are you saying that- oh god don't tell me...". The scientist preemptively whispers to the ambassador: "100 doons are less than a gram" and the ambassador starts laughing.

The Quorn leader has another question. "But with all that, why do you coat yourself in these uniforms, shouldn't those make it worse? I don't understand". "Me neither, bud" replies the ambassador, "but could you please turn down the heat? Here: I'll bring you the emergency thermal blankets from our ship"

The Quorn set the room temperature to 5 quans (approximatley 20 degrees celsius) and wait for the human, shivering until he tugs them into the blanket while precognitively answering the Quorn's next question: "And before you ask, it gets cold on our world, too... Huh, guess we're just from a more harsh planet..."

They finish the peace talks and end the meeting, with the Quorns shock having delevoped into wonder as they can't wait to further research the humans anatomy.

(For anyone wondering about how the human ambassador looks for some reason; just know I was picturing Scott Bacula (Captain Archer) while writing this)

Edit: Apparently I am a pansy, so I adjusted the temperatures

[panda-noosh]

the game {draco x reader}

  masterlist

---

 you’ve been tormenting the malfoy family for what feels like forever.

   it’s become a kind of game at this point, a game everyone is involved in. the malfoys pretend they don’t expect your presence, and you pretend you are tormenting them because you don’t like them. it’s back and forth, back and forth, and you’ve been doing it too long to back out now.

   it starts the same way every time - the gate is open, and they pretend it’s because they forgot to close it. nobody mentions the fact that lucius malfoy hasn’t forgotten a single thing in his entire life. nobody mentions draco’s blonde head peaking out from behind the living room curtains, waiting for the arrival of a person he claims to despise. 

   you stroll in with the ease of someone who owns the place, smiling and waving at the white peacocks that have become so familiar with your presence by now that they don’t even make a noise upon seeing you. they lift their graceful heads, and then they bow them again - it’s as simple as that.

    you knock on the door, grinning even wider when you hear narcissa’s faux exclamation of, “who could that possibly be?” you know for a fact that draco has warned her of your presence already, that all three of them have been expecting your arrival since they woke up this morning. 

   and then the door opens, and narcissa stands there in all her glory. such a tall, graceful woman, and you tell her that on a daily basis, making her blush because you  are her favourite little Mudblood, and she lets you get away with things like that.

    you lean against the door frame, spinning your wand between your ringed fingers. narcissa glares at you without speaking, her jaw working as she inspects you.

    “evening,” you drawl. “how are you today, my dear?”

   her nostrils flare. “how many times have we told you to stay away from our home?”

    “oh, plenty of times. i’ve quite lost count.” you straighten, craning your neck to see over her tall frame, into the hallway beyond. standing in the foyer, just as you predicted, just as he always does, is draco. you give him a wave before turning back to face his mother. “is he alright? i haven’t seen him much at school recently.”

    “my sons wellbeing is none of your business.”

   draco appears at his mothers elbow. “you can tell professor snape i’ve been feeling ill.”

   you smile - draco giving you orders is moreso his way of answering your questions without looking like he gives a shit. you appreciate it, this code you two speak in, because in all truth, you do worry about the malfoy boy quite a bit.

   you met him in school, your very first year at hogwarts. you were crushed beneath adrenaline, having found out about your powers only a few weeks before being shipped off to this strange and wonderful new school. you had a wand, and a robe, and there was a giant man ushering you into a tiny boat, ready to take you to the future. 

   and then draco appeared, and he knew who you were. he must have looked through the first year list, must have looked you up and realised you were a muggle-born. he did his research, and that was the first point of respect he earned off you.

    “let them in, mother,” draco says now. “the elves made too much food anyway; might as well put them to use whilst they’re here.”

    you give a mock bow. “much appreciated, malfoy.”

   he snarls, before mother and son turn on their heels and lead you into the home you have become so familiar with these past few years. you’ve traced these walls with your fingers a thousand times before, and you do the same now. upstairs, you hear the elves marching around, putting stuff back where they belong, chuntering amongst themselves; silently, you wonder where lucius is. 

    draco and narcissa lead you to the kitchen, where stacks upon stacks of food are set up along the grand dining table. draco hands you a glass of water before gesturing to the plates and saying, “dig in. and be grateful we haven’t got the ministry involved.”

    “the ministry?” you raise a brow, taking a long, loud sip of your water before continuing. “draco, what would the ministry possibly do? you’ve been letting me into your home for years - it’s starting to get a little old hearing you say you don’t want me here.”

    draco blinks, startled. 

   narcissa steps in, grabbing the water from your hand and slamming it upon the table. “we don’t want you here. the last thing we need is some filthy mudblood knocking on our door at all hours of the morning.”

    the word doesn’t even sting any more - it’s a wound that has been closed long enough now to no longer hurt. so instead, you smile and say, “very true, narcissa. i’ll have my water back now, if you please.”

    narcissa growls, turns and walks out of the kitchen. she always does this. it’s become part of the routine.  

   you grab the water yourself and take another sip. draco continues staring at you, a habit he adopted only recently. you remember the first time he did it, the first time it was more than a glance, more than an accidental brush of eye contact between you; he was standing on the opposite side of the kitchen, those slim fingers tapping a rhythm against the expensive granite. you and lucius were chatting, lucius asking - yet again - why you’re here, why you can never leave them alone, why you aren’t at school. you were going to answer, but draco’s gaze was burning a hole into the side of your face, and you truly felt as if you had no choice but to pack it in early and go home, just to recuperate. 

    you’ve gotten better with it. you don’t have any plans of storming out any time soon, though his gaze still makes your face heat up and your stomach squirm.

    “so, you’ve been ill, have you?” you begin. “i won’t lie, draco, you look pretty spritely to me.”

    “i wouldn’t expect you to understand,” draco shoots back. “you should just mind your business.”

    “i never asked you what was wrong. i was just saying - seems like you’re looking for a muggle excuse to get out of going to school.”

   draco glares, though the expression has less effect now that he’s taken to never taking his eyes off you, no matter what his emotions towards you are in the moment. “i’ve told you not to call me that.”

   “didn’t call you anything.”

   “you called me a muggle.”

   you narrow your eyes in faux confusion. “i said your excuse was muggle. don’t blow it out of proportion, mate.”

   he throws his hands up, turning away for what feels like the first time since he laid eyes on you. “why are you here this time, y/n? what could you possibly want from us now?”

    “i’ve never wanted anything from you.” you inspect the endless plates on the table. “although i will pinch a scotch egg, if you don’t mind.”

    draco watches as you reach across the table, picking at the assortment of foods. you don’t break the eye contact, because that’s what he wants you to do. he wants you to show some sign of intimidation, some sign that he has wriggled beneath your nerves in the same way he manages with everyone else. you’re determined to show him you’re not afraid of the malfoys, have never been afraid of the malfoys, and that’s exactly why you’re here. you wanted something, and you were willing to go to the highest rank to get it.

    “you know, if my father finds out about what you get up to, you’ll be sent to azkaban with a life sentence.”

    you freeze, scotch egg halfway to your mouth. “so you’re bringing that up now, are you?”

    “i’m just warning you.” draco shrugs, the sleeves of his black blazer stretching against the motion. “one day you’re going to walk in here, and he’s going to know. he’s going to see it in your eyes that you’re guilty.”

   “he’s going to figure me out.” you scoff. “you really think the sun shines out of your father’s arse, don’t you? he’s not as smart as he likes everyone to think, draco. i’ve been running circles around that man for years now, and he’s none the wiser.”

    “and what if i tell him?”

   the room falls silent. your heartbeat rings in your ears. you hate talking about this with draco, because you never know whether or not to take his threats seriously. 

    he folds his arms over his chest. “you’re lucky i haven’t blabbed yet.”

   “are you threatening me, malfoy?” you lean forward, lowering your voice to a purr. “why don’t you tell me the real reason you’ve taken two weeks out of school, hm? then we’ll both have stories to tattle to the ministry.”

    draco pales. he glares at you for a moment longer before the kitchen door opens, and narcissa malfoy strolls inside once again. you straighten up, schooling your expression into one of immediate calm, like not a single thing is wrong. you pop the remaining scotch egg in your mouth and say, “i should get out of your hair now.”

    narcissa simply scowls.

    you give her a grin, nod at draco once before walking out the door, trying to ignore that blue-eyed gaze still burning into the back of your head.

   ----

    it gets easier over time.

    all of it does, really. the guilt becomes non-existent, and the act itself becomes second nature after a few good attempts. you’ve nearly been caught a handful of times, and you know if your actions were to come to light, you would be expelled from hogwarts in a heartbeat; not even dumbledore could show you mercy, no matter how much he likes you.

    it’s easiest when the streets are full. muggles are so careless, clumped together with wallets jingling in their pockets, unprotected. they don’t even think about what might go wrong, don’t even think a wizard may be lurking amongst them, ready to snatch their belongings right from their person.

    you don’t need it, of course. muggle money means nothing where you come from, but there’s some wizards and witches who would pay hundreds of galleons in trade for the things collected off muggles. it’s a black market kind of situation.

   tonight, you are dressed in a black hoodie and jeans, wand stowed in your back pocket. you don’t need it; you’ve mastered the magic-free manoeuvres of sneaking things from people, and you use such skills to your advantage tonight. a man by the name of richard carpol has put in a request for a muggle passport - an irish one, preferably, but he’ll take anything you can get your hands on.

    you search for what feels like hours before zoning in on the dark red booklet peaking out of a teenagers jacket pocket. their source of ID, you assume, and you feel no guilt whatsoever when you stroll past them and pluck the book free. you stuff it in your hoodie pocket before picking up your pace, ducking into a dark alleyway.

    you flip it open - it’s a british passport, but richard will still pay. he’s not a picky customer, which makes your night ten times easier.

   you make your way back to hogwarts, waving at people in hogsmeade before you disappear for the night. you sneak into the slytherin dormitory with no problems, stuffing the passport beneath your mattress. you wriggle beneath the sheets, ignoring pansy’s insistant questions about where you have been, if you’ve seen draco, how you managed to sneak past filch - she asks this every night, and you have never replied. you just fall asleep, another day successful.

  ----   

   “he’s back.”

   like he’s some kind of god. you nearly roll your eyes, the whispers repeated over and over again throughout morning breakfast. all around you, the slytherin table is alive with anticipation, waiting for draco malfoy to stroll in through the double doors, head held high in that way it always is.

   you knew draco was returning before anyone else did, as he told you the night before in a fit of faux rage at the sight of you in his bedroom, yet again. you had offered to leave, leaned casually against his mahogany wardrobe, and it could almost be considered hasty the speed at which he rushed for his door to close it, uttering a quiet, “no, you’re here now, so you might as well stay.”

    but now he’s back in school, and you’re sick of him. you haven’t even seen his face once, but the whispers and the praise from your house mates is enough to set your teeth on edge. it reminds you that there is indeed a draco living outside of the malfoy manor, a draco you cannot tease and torment as easily.

    “i saw him in the common room this morning putting his robes on. i think his parents got him new ones,” a fellow slytherin whispers. “and his hair has been cut a little shorter - he looks so grown up!”

   you snicker into your porridge, smothering the noise to no avail. the slytherin girl singing draco’s praises shoots you a glare before noticing who you are; her glare folds in on itself, and she quickly retaliates by pretending she didn’t hear your snicker in the first place.

    breakfast ticks by, and it’s only near the end does draco finally decide to grace the dining hall with his presence. the double doors open, and the chatter amongst the slytherins falls short almost immediately. you’re ashamed to admit that even you look up at the speed of light, catching one of the first glimpses of draco malfoy as he returns from what many people assumed was the dead.

    his fangirl certainly wasn’t lying, you notice; his hair has been cut shorter, and he does look plenty grown up. he walks with a fresh confidence that makes you want to roll your eyes - it’s not like he needed a further confidence boost. his robes are clean, brushing the floor. his eyes are trained on the head table, though they linger there for only moments before snapping to where you are seated.

   you raise a curious brow. he blushes, looks away, and takes his seat next to crabbe and goyle, both of whom clap him on the back like he’s just returned from war.

    you ignore him the rest of breakfast, which is a rare action for you. you used to revel in tormenting him, coming face to face with him at every corner just to give another snide remark; it was a game back then, back when the two of you were younger and felt as if you could get away with it. 

    breakfast ends shortly thereafter, and you hurry to gather your things. swinging your bag over one shoulder, you duck your head down and escape into the crowded corridors, losing yourself amongst the sea of black clad students. 

   but you’re a fool to ever think you - of all people - could escape draco’s magnificent return to school. his cold fingers wrap around your wrist before you have a chance to turn the corridor to your next class, stopping you in your tracks. part of you wants to spin around and punch him, just floor him in front of everyone, show him that you’re not just some silly person showing up on his front doorstep every other night.

    instead, you slowly turn and give him a smile, one of your big ones to let him know you don’t mean it, that you’re being hostile.

    his face is set in stone, that frown so perfect and soft looking it makes you want to sob. 

    “where are you off to in such a hurry?” he asks, keeping his voice low because god forbid anyone catch him speaking to you.

    “class,” you reply. “so kindly let go of me, malfoy.”

   “not until you tell me where richard got another muggle passport to sell.”

    you freeze, though you knew this would be coming eventually. richard is one of your best customers, but he’s not very bright; he’s never understood the concept of subtlety when it comes to the trading of muggle artefacts. 

    “he has a new one, does he?” you say. “good for him. his collection must be getting awfully big by now.”

   draco scowls. “my father is starting to get very suspicious, y/n, and i don’t know how much longer i’ll be willing to cover for you.”

    you pry your hand out of his grip, nearly stumbling from the momentum. “is that a threat?”

    “it’s a warning,” he says. “i might not like you, but i don’t need you going down for something like this. people know we’re familiar with each other, and i don’t want you tarnishing my family name.”

    you scoff. “your family name has been tarnished since you-know-who was in power.”

    “shut up. don’t talk on things you don’t understand.”

    “all i need to do is pick up a history book.”

   draco scowls, those blues eyes ablaze. you’ve seen this look on him when he’s speaking to those gryffindors he hates so much, when a teacher takes someone else’s side over his own. you’ve seen this look on him plenty of times, but never aimed at you; for some reason, his expression is always so soft around the edges when trained on you.

    “i’m trying to do you a favour,” draco mumbles. “because i’m serious when i say my father will snap you in half if he finds out you’re the one providing these artefacts to the dark market.”

    “i’m not afraid of lucius,” you reply. “and i think you’re kind of forgetting the fact that your father actually likes me. at least a little bit.”

    draco’s eyebrows fly up in amusement. “what’s given you that idea?”

   “the fact that i’m still allowed in your house after all these years.” you grin, basking in the way draco’s own smile fades at the realisation you have indeed recognised this behaviour within his family. “yes, malfoy. you all try so hard to convince me i’m the scum of the earth, but the truth is, you appreciate my company. the truth is, you make me tea every time i visit. the truth is, you’re all a little fond of me, whether you want to admit it or not.”

    his face pales even more, a feat you didn’t think possible until seeing it with your own two eyes. it’s a delicious win, a point for you in a competition you didn’t even realise you had entered.

    “you’re delusional,” he mumbles. “you say you picked up a history book, then you must know how my family feel about your kind.”

   “my kind?” you raise a brow, feigning ignorance just to annoy him. he hates outstretched conversations, especially with you. “are you talking about half-bloods, or pickpockets? oh! or people who can run circles around you without fear?”

    you don’t give him a chance to reply, because quite frankly, you’re done with this conversation. you’re done with him for today. you prefer it when you’re in control of your daily draco interactions. 

    you turn on your heel and leave, rushing for your next class even as he calls your name. you can’t believe the nerve of him, approaching you like that, telling you to quit the job that’s gotten you off the streets, that’s helped you fund an education for yourself. these robes you’re wearing, the books you read in class, the wand that is an extension of your arm by now - all of it was funded by you, from your own pocket. just because the business is ruthless, not some posh, clean dealing that malfoy is used to, doesn’t mean it’s any less important.

   you want to shove that explanation down his throat, just so he’ll finally look past his own privileged little bubble. you hate admitting it, but the truth is, draco wouldn’t be so bad if he wasn’t so blinded by his upbringing. he knows how to be nice - you’ve seen it before, experienced it before, though you never talk about those experiences with anyone. there have been a few times where draco has seen you walking past his house, soaked to the bone from the rain, and he’s let you in, warmed you up by the fire, placed a hot chocolate in your hand. he’ll insult you and call you stupid and claim he wants you out of his house as soon as possible, but he was still the man who made the move to get you out of the rain.

    your feelings for draco are a jenga tower. built up to full form, but slowly, pieces get chipped away until the entire thing is falling, and you have to rebuild it and try again. 

    you don’t know why you keep rebuilding it after so many disasters, but as he calls your name at your retreating back, you can feel yourself already putting those blocks back together.

   ----

     charms class really is a pain.

   flitwick is nice enough. he’s patient, which is good, and very much needed when it comes to your skills in the classroom. you’re an intelligent person, always studying because you want to be the best. you love seeing the look on draco’s face when he looks over and sees you’ve got a higher grade than him. it gives you such a thrill.

   but charms is your downfall, because nothing makes any sense. flitwick explains the spell, and the hand movements, and he leaves you to your own devices, and you always somehow end up messing everything up.

   today, all you’re doing is tossing a pillow to the other side of the room. it’s a simple spell, a simple gesture, and yet you still manage to smash a window in the process. flitwick merely sighs, explains the charm again, and gets you to repeat the process until you’ve got it right.

   it takes a while. you don’t like it when things take a while.

    by the half hour mark, sweat is running down your face, and your teeth have been gritted for so long it’s starting to hurt. you throw your wand down on the table, rake your hands through your hair and say, “i’m taking a break.”

   “please do,” flitwick grumbles, rubbing the spot on his head where a vase smashed into his skull, thanks to your handiwork.

   you slump down on one of the pillows you have failed to charm and run a hand along your brow. it’s actually disgusting how much energy gets taken out of you from doing such a simple thing. it’s also very confusing, considering you’re able to master the most difficult spells in defence against the dark arts without so much as a second thought. why tossing a pillow to the other side of the room is getting to you is both a joke and a mystery.

    as you pull yourself together, savouring your moment of rest, someone slumps down next to you. you glance over, an eyebrow raised at bailey o’boyle, a boy you’ve done business with a few times in the past. he was only dabbling in the black market at the time, too young to understand what it was actually all about, but you weren’t going to be the one to ward him off, not when he had a good few galleons with your name on it.

    he looks at you now with a smile, big and dopey, just as it always is.

   “can i help you?” you ask. 

    “yes.”

   you wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. he just keeps staring at you.

    you grit your teeth. “with what?”

    “i need an electric scooter.”

    you raise a brow. already the word ‘electric’ has got your attention, because that’s not something the wizard world is very familiar with. what bailey is doing right now is forming a business deal. you’re not usually a fan of bargaining in the middle of class, but since you have nothing better to do. . .

   you turn, ducking your head and lowering your voice. “what the fuck do you need an electric scooter for?”

    “to sell,” he replies. “i’ve got a man who collects them. he’s willing to pay big money, y/n. big, big money.”

    you like the sound of that.

   “i’m a pickpocket, you know,” you say. “it’s not going to be easy pickpocketing an entire scooter from a muggle.”

    bailey shrugs. “i said i’d see what you could do. but if you’re not up to it. . .”

   your eye twitches; you hate that phrase. realistically, you know this is far beyond your expertise. you steal wallets, and passports, and house keys, tiny things you can sneak away without detection. trying to get something like an electric scooter from a muggle without being caught is close enough to impossible that even the lure of galleons isn’t enough to convince you to do it.

   still, of course you’re going to think about it. there are many different side streets in muggle london that you could go down, and if you do it at night, the shadows could be used to your advantage. nobody would even bat an eye if you wore-

    draco grabs your wrist and pulls you from the floor.

   you yelp, stumbling into his chest. he lifts you like you weigh nothing, and you’re more surprised at his strength than you are at his actions.

    bailey’s eyes widen. he stutters, trying to feign innocence, but neither you nor draco are interested in him any more. you whirl on malfoy, shoving him away.

   “what the hell?”

    “what the hell, is right.” he grabs your arm. “come with me.”

   you struggle against his grip, but truth to be told, you’re not really putting up much of a fight. you’re still in shock at how easily he was able to lift you, at the feel of his fingers around your upper arm. 

    he drags you from the classroom. flitwick being flitwick doesn’t even bat an eye; he’s probably relieved that’s two more students he doesn’t need to worry about.

    in the hallway, draco finally lets go of you. you jerk away so fast your back hits against the wall. draco raises a brow, but he still looks furious. his nostrils are flared, his face is pale, and god, he keeps clenching his fists like he wants to wrap his hands around your throat.

    god help you, you kind of want him to. just to know what it feels like.

    “again,” you say. “what the hell?”

   “i knew you were stupid, y/n, but that’s bad even for you.”

    “excuse me?”

   “you do realise blaise was listening to every word you and bailey were saying in there?” he shakes his head, jaw clenched. “i was trying to talk over you, but your loud mouth is quite difficult to ignore.”

    you blink. firstly, wow. bargaining in class really isn’t a good idea, and you really should have known better.

   but also, wow, draco actually tried helping you out.

   you swallow and fold your arms over your chest. “i had it under control. blaise isn’t gonna do shit.”

    draco laughs. “blaise’s dad is in the ministry, idiot.”

   “stop calling me that. i’m smarter than you!”

    “do you understand what i’m telling you, y/n? if blaise says a word about what he heard to his dad, that’s you done. there’s no getting out of that.”

    a chill runs down your spine. draco glimpses the movement, and you swear his features soften slightly.

    “i just can’t believe you were so careless.”

   “why do you even care?” your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. you kind of hope draco doesn’t hear it, but his eyebrows shoot up, and his cheeks gain a tiny red tint that lets you know he doesn’t really know the answer to that question. 

   you swallow, looking up to meet his eyes. “why do you care, draco?”

   “because.” his throat bobs. there is a moment of hesitation where you think he’s going to tell the truth. maybe he’s going to shock the world and just tell the god damn truth, but then he clears his throat, pulls his shoulders back and says, “i’ve already told you, y/n; if you go down, you’ll tarnish my family name. i can’t have that.”

    your insides wilt like his words are acid being poured down your throat. you laugh a little too loudly, a bark more than anything close to amusement. it’s so vicious, so filled with hatred that draco actually flinches away. in that moment, you want to give him a real reason to flinch, a real reason to be afraid.

    but you don’t, because he’s the boy who pulled you out of the rain.

   instead, you shake your head and say, “tell flitwick i’m ill. and don’t bother talking to me ever again. let me handle my own business, thanks.” and without another word, you rush down the hallway to the dorm rooms, refusing to look back at him. this time, he doesn’t call your name, doesn’t chase after you in that hopelessly stupid way you want him to. of course he wouldn’t. 

    you throw your robes off the minute you burst through the doors of your dorm. it’s empty besides a fellow slytherin’s cat laying on the bed. the black and white feline lifts its head at the sound of you, and you ignore it’s confused little mews as you scramble into your own bed, pull the privacy curtain over and bury your head in your pillow.

   you hate him. you really, really hate him, and that’s not even an exaggeration. he’s the worst person you’ve ever met. he’s this tormented little shit who thinks he has every right to throw his anger at everyone else, just because he isn’t tough enough to stand up to mummy and daddy. he’s so desperate to stay in line with everything his parents say, and it’s ridiculous. it’s embarrassing. it’s a cowards move.

    there are so many things you wished you said to him before storming off, but there’s always that moment of hesitation when it comes to anything you want to say to draco. you either have to check it’s not too nice, and even when it’s mean, you have to check it’s not going to actually upset him, because you don’t want to do that either. you don’t know why. you should spit in his face for the shit he puts you through, the confusion he makes you feel. and he doesn’t even care. he just carries on being a little prick, like nothing is wrong in the world.

   but surprise, surprise, draco. not everyone can live a lavish life, worry free. 

   --- 

    you manage to ignore draco for the rest of the day. it’s easily done, considering draco doesn’t like to make a big deal out of the fact that you two actually have history; he likes to pretend he associates only with people of the purest blood, the most talented wizards, ones that come from the old families.

    but he can’t keep his eyes off you.

    he knows he’s hit a nerve. the way his eyes follow every movement you make, the way his jaw ticks when you don’t even give him the time of day - he’s not a stupid boy, as much as you like to tell him he is. he can see when he’s upset you. 

    classes drag in the rest of the day, and it’s a massive relief when you’re finally released from the confines of lessons, free to do whatever you want. after stealing a bit of food from the dining hall, you head up to the slytherin dormitory; you like it best when it’s empty, when you can just sit with your own thoughts for a while. you need it today, because today you actually let yourself be a normal teenager, and you hate it. you hate the feeling of hormones and overreactions, but sometimes it’s hard to help it. sometimes you need to let yourself feel emotional.

    alone in the dorms, you reach under your bed and pull out your handy box of trinkets. most of the contents are just things you’ve stolen that never found a home - a penny from a london sidewalk, an old napkin with a mystery person’s phone number scribbled on it, a black and white photo of a couple standing in front of the ocean. however, tucked away amongst those simple, boring things is a green emerald - one you stole from the malfoy manor a few years ago.

    you got it from draco’s room, because you weren’t meant to be in there, and you wanted to let him know that you had, in fact, been in there. the emerald was stitched into the collar of one of his shirts, all expensive looking and wasted. you nearly scoffed at the sight of it - when would draco ever get to wear something so glamorous anyway? plus, the emerald looked far too heavy to be confined to a shirts collar; it would be very uncomfortable, you assumed.

   that’s why you grabbed a knife and cut the stitching to shreds, plucking the emerald from it to claim as your own. you tossed the shredded shirt back into draco’s wardrobe, tucked the emerald into your pocket and then walked out, content with the knowledge that draco would be yelling at you in due time once he noticed his missing jewel.

   but the yelling never came.

   draco knew you had stolen it. again, he isn’t stupid. his shirt was shredded, and the jewel was missing, and it was obvious who had done it - the known pickpocket who was strolling through his house every other night. 

   he just never said anything, like he wanted you to keep it, like he didn’t mind it was in your hands now.

   you stare at it, legs crossed beneath you. you’ve always prided yourself on how little you care for expensive things - you don’t complain that you haven’t got much, that you grew up poor, never able to afford the grand things draco has. but you still handle this emerald with so much care, flipping it round in your fingers, looking at every curve and delicate groove in it’s cut. 

    the dormitory door opens. you trust it’s just someone who’s eaten too much and wants an early night, so you don’t panic or falter. you listen to their footsteps patter across the room, the thump of their robes hitting the floor, followed closely by their shoes. you listen to their privacy curtain screeching open, their sigh of annoyance at something you can’t see-

   and then draco pops his head round your privacy curtain.

   you yelp, fumbling with the emerald. it slips from your fingers, however, and crashes to the floor at draco’s bare feet. he stares at it as you curse, an eyebrow raising, and you don’t even try and hide it. you just let him stare, arms folded over your chest, annoyance brewing in your stomach just at the sight of him. 

    finally, he slowly looks up. “mine, i take it?”

   “good guess, rich boy. can i have it back?”

   he picks it up and tosses it into your lap. you’re pleasantly surprised at his cooperation, but still keep that frown on your face.

   “what do you want?” you ask, violently stuffing all your belongings back into the cardboard box. 

    “you weren’t at dinner,” draco replies. “i wanted to make sure you weren’t causing any more trouble.”

    you scoff. “oh, trouble, yes. tarnishing the malfoy name. the end goal for us all.”

    draco stares at you, lips pursed. his gaze is always so warm, a physical thing that makes your skin crawl. “that comment bothered you, did it?”

    “nothing you say bothers me, draco. it just baffles me how you can be so dense sometimes.”

    “ouch. that one hurt.”

   you roll your eyes. “why are you here? i have nothing to say to you.”

   “you don’t have to say anything. i just wanted to make sure you’re alive.”

   “not like you care, though, is it?”

    draco’s nostrils flare. his throat bobs, eyes tracing the length of your throat like he’s a hungry vampire. his lower lip slips between his teeth, the expression startling you. he looks like he’s trying to reel himself back, like some unwanted emotion is fighting for dominance in his brain.

    “you’re really stubborn, aren’t you?” he asks after a moment.

   “you think?”

    “i still don’t know what i did to piss you off so much.”

   you bark out a laugh. “no, of course you don’t. god forbid a malfoy is self-aware for once.”

    he groans. “can you not just make things simple? why do we have to go around in circles like this? it’s a waste of time!”

    “is that meant to be an apology?”

   “how can i apologise when i don’t even know what i did?” he’s starting to sound desperate, like this conversation is taking the life from him. 

    you lean back, pulling the box into your lap protectively. in truth, you don’t even know how to word why you’re so upset - it makes sense in your head, but articulating it to someone else is just going to make you sound stupid, maybe even a little delusional. you should know draco by now, people will say. you should know what he’s like, that he cares for no one besides himself. getting upset over him showing his true colours is stupid, a waste of time and energy.

   but you look into his blue eyes right now, wanting nothing more than for him to just understand. understand what, you don’t even want to admit, not to yourself or anyone else. 

   “you hurt my feelings,” you mumble. 

   draco inhales sharply. “i didn’t think i could do that. i never thought you’d let me.”

    “well, you did. congratulations.”   

   “jesus, y/n, it’s not like i wanted to. what did i even say?”

   you stare at him. he stares back. the ball will drop eventually, you know, because draco is smart, smarter than you’ve ever given him credit for. he examines your expression, and you watch the moment his eyebrows start to relax in realisation, the frown form on his face. it makes anxiety coil in the pit of your stomach, because maybe this is just a little too vulnerable. maybe letting draco figure this out on his own was a bad idea.

    but it’s too late now. he draws back slowly, hands curled around the privacy curtain until the fabric is creasing and knotted in his fingers. “wait. . .”

    “go, draco,” you demand. “i have shit to do. business to take care of.”

    “y/n-”

   “go, draco!”

    he stares at you a moment longer before running a hand through his hair and walking out the room. you wait till the door is closed, and then you wait till his footsteps can no longer be heard, and then you throw the box of trinkets to the ground, watching the emerald slip across the wooden floor.

    ---

     the streets of london always look a little different when you’re angry. a little more violent. a little more real.

   muggle london in itself has always felt like a very hostile place to you, but when you’re angry, things get clearer. you notice the vomit stain on the curb, the neglected baby pram in the bush, the beer bottles smashed beneath window sills. it becomes a different place - it just depends on how you’re feeling.

    tonight, you are angry, and everything around you is angry, too.

    you just want a set of car keys, not the actual car. muggle car keys sell at a good price, depending on who you’re dealing with. nobody has requested them, and usually you don’t go out unless asked to do so by a client, but tonight, you just want to be out. you want to be away from the wizarding world. you want to cause havoc with your fingers in the best way you know how.

    it’s busy. it always is. you can guarantee that almost everyone around you has car keys in their pocket - that’s why global warming is so bad. some of them even wear them around their neck, dangling from multicoloured chains with little souvenirs banging against their chests. those would be so easy to just rip off and run away, but you’ve decided to be subtle, which means your eyes are trained on the bulges in people’s coat pockets. so many of them, so careless. 

    a man in a tracksuit seems like the best option. you follow him for ten minutes, keeping your head down, before he finally breaks away from his group of drunken friends. he laughs to himself, stumbling just the perfect amount - he’s drunk, but not drunk enough to be falling over himself, which makes slipping your hand into his pocket a pretty easy deal.

   you go for the kill, quickening your pace, dipping your hand into his pocket-

   he grabs your wrist, and before you even have a chance to blink, you’re on the ground.

    a gasp is ripped from your throat at both the shock and the pain that spears up your spine. the guy is yelling, stumbling back, and holy shit, if he doesn’t shut up right now, the whole of london is going to be on you.

   gathering as much strength as you can, you roll onto your side and push yourself to your knees. “hey man, calm down. sorry. i thought you were my friend.”

    “did you just try and rob me?” he yells.

   “no! no, of course-”

    “you psycho bitch!” he lunges for you, all drunken vowels and grabby hands. you have no idea what to make of his intentions, you just know you’ve fucked up, and you need to get out of here.

    his hands slam into your shoulders, knocking you on your ass. a cry escapes you, but not from the pain. a tiny snap sounds from your back pocket, and you know without having to look that your wand has just broken in half - yet again. dumbledore is going to start getting very suspicious.

    “son of a bitch,” you growl, before raising your hands. “listen, hey. i’m sorry. i’ve said that already. you need to calm down before-”

    “before what?” he howls. “you kill me? are you threatening me?”

    your eyes widen. “no! would you just-”

    the man opens his mouth to say something else, but his words are sucked back in when a hand wraps around his arm and yanks him back. you wince at the sound of his head cracking against the tarmac, but you don’t get a chance to comment before draco is kneeling beside you, one hand cradling your head, the other resting on your knee. his touch alone is enough to spread warmth through your previously frozen limbs, and you hate that. you hate it so much.

    you tug your knee from his grip. “what the hell are you doing here?”

   “are you bleeding?” he runs his thumb along your bottom lip. when he pulls away, his fingertip glows with a red liquid. 

   “oh. i guess i am.”

   “christ, y/n. do you ever just...” he closes his eyes, taking a moment to redirect his anger. it’s an amusing sight, and you almost smile until you remember you’re mad at him. forever mad at him.

   you jerk your head out of his grip, too. “i’m fine. stop worrying.”

    “clearly i have to, or else you’re going to get yourself killed.” he glances over his shoulder, where the drunken man is struggling to sit up, still slurring protestations. “by a muggle.”

    “he wouldn’t have killed me,” you grumble. “although my wand is broke, so maybe he would have.”

   draco’s eyes widen. you wave him off before he has a chance to chastise you again - in truth, you just want to get out of here, car keys be damned. hastily, you push yourself to your feet, wobbling only slightly, but draco must see this tiny action as a full-on collapse risk, as he wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you close, grumbling curses under his breath. you’re such a pain in the arse, apparently, and god, he wishes he wasn’t stuck with you all the time, and he’s so baffled by the fact you’re still alive, it’s probably all thanks to him, blah, blah, blah.

   you listen to him rant the entire way back to malfoy manor. you don’t argue his choice of location, because you can see narcissa standing in the doorway, hand over her mouth, eyebrows raised in genuine surprise, and you already know she’s got a cup of tea waiting for you in the sitting room. you almost smile, but that would ruin the effect.

    she rushes out to meet you and draco halfway, immediately grabbing your face and tilting your head back and forth. you can taste blood on your teeth.

    “what happened?” she breathes, but doesn’t give you a chance to reply. “draco, take them into the lounge.”

   “oh, the lounge,” you coo. “you are spoiling me!”

    “be quiet,” draco hisses, doing as his mother says. he tosses you unceremoniously onto the plush sofa, and you have to ignore the inappropriate thrill that shoots up your body. 

   narcissa appears not ten seconds later, a steaming cup of tea in her hand. you give her a grin, which she rolls her eyes at, even as she sits beside you and brushes your hair away from your face. you take a sip of the tea, smile in thanks, and then lean your head back.

   “sorry about this.”

   narcissa sighs. her breath tickles your cheek, smelling oddly of incense. “i don’t know what we’re going to do with you, y/n.”

   “put me down.” you make a stabbing gesture into your arm and mouth lethal injection at draco. he purses his lips, clearly not taking the joke in stride. “i didn’t mean to worry you so much.”

    “you’re always worrying us,” draco hisses, which earns him a sharp look from narcissa. he meets his mothers eyes and his shoulders deflate. he runs his hands down his face. “you’re just . . . always doing something.”

    “i know,” you mumble. “sorry.”

    “draco, don’t stress them out,” says narcissa, which surprises you; you’ve always known narcissa has a secret soft spot for you, but she’s always tried her hardest to keep it just that - a secret. yet here she is, combing your hair back, giving you a cup of tea, telling her son to treat you nicely. it’s like you’ve entered a different world. “i’m gonna go and make some calls. keep them comfortable, okay?”

   draco nods, lips still pursed, forever displeased. you used to laugh at that expression on his face, but now it just makes you feel bad. 

   narcissa leaves the room, and then it’s just you and draco. you watch as he watches you, eyes never wavering, shoulders never relaxing. he’s got his arms folded over his chest like he’s keeping guard. 

    “i meant it, you know,” you say. “i didn’t mean to worry you. i thought it would be an easy job.”

    “who are you doing business with now? bailey again?”

    “no.” you look down, surprisingly shameful. “it was just for myself. i needed out of the castle, and. . .” you shrug. “you know me. i can’t do anything easy.”

   he scoffs. “yeah, i know.”

   “so i’m sorry.”

   draco closes his eyes and rubs his temples. the rings on his fingers glisten beneath the fancy lights. his knuckles pop, the veins in his arms protruding. “please stop apologising.”

   you blink. “alright.”

    “you act like i don’t understand why you’re doing all this, but i do.” he looks at you, hands dropping to his sides. “just because i don’t have to do it myself, doesn’t mean i don’t understand. why else do you think i haven’t stopped you?”

    your breath catches. you raise a brow, tilting your head cruelly. “you wouldn’t have been able to stop me. you think i’d listen to you?”

    “yeah. i think you would.”

   you reel back, jaw dropping open. “excuse-”

    “you always act like you hate me, but you forget you’ve been coming to my house for years. you forget i’ve known you since we were eleven. you forget that i don’t just put up with anyone. i’ve had time to figure you out, y/n, no matter how much you like to pretend i haven’t.” he folds his arms and leans against the door. his hair is rumpled, along with his shirt and jeans. so casual, so unlike himself. “but earlier on, in the dorms. . . you surprised me with that one.”

    your stomach curls. oh, good god, he’s bringing that up now. you’re sat here with a busted chin and a potential criminal charge, and he’s bringing this up. you could headbutt him.

    despite your glare, he continues. “i knew you didn’t hate me, but i never thought. . . i never thought you liked me, you know? especially not-”

   “don’t say it.”

   his lips twist. “i have to.”

   “no you don’t.”

    “do you love me?”

    your heart falls into the pit of your stomach, which is answer enough for you. love is such a strong word, and you could easily say no, that what you feel for draco is nothing more than a little crush. he’s got the nice blue eyes, and the money, and the perfect hair. he’s got a smile that lights up rooms. it’s a crush. you fancy him, and that’s all there is to it.

    but love sounds pretty accurate. more accurate, actually.

    you swallow. draco watches the bob of your throat, and you watch his. above your head, the massive clock ticks, ticks, ticks. 

     slowly, he reaches forward and swipes his thumb over your chin. it stings just a little, but you’ve felt worse pain, so you let him do it without jerking away. 

     “cat got your tongue?” he whispers.

    you shiver. “i don’t. . . i don’t know what you want me to say.”

    “it’s not about what i want. i was asking a simple question. just give me the truth.”

    “you want the truth?”

   he inhales, hesitates, and then nods.

    “yeah, draco,” you whisper. “i think i love you.”

     slowly, draco draws away. his eyes never leave your own, that frosty blue colour reminding you of the winter sky, or a cold december morning. you remember all those christmas’s at hogwarts when draco would stay at the castle, waking him up because you thought it would annoy him to have your face be the first thing he sees. you always commented on the dreary smile that played on his lips when you did that, and he would always say, “i thought you were someone else.”

    but that dreary smile is returning, pulling across his face, and it doesn’t falter. right now, there is no mistake. his eyes are on you, and he knows it is you, the person who has apparently made his life a living hell for so many years. you’re the ache in his spine, the one he can’t wait to get rid of.

    but you’re also the one he rescued from the rain. 

    you’re the one who cursed hermione granger when she punched him in the nose.

   you’re the one who’s just confessed your love to him.

   shit.

   “don’t look at me like that,” you say, voice hoarse. “don’t pretend you didn’t know.”

   “i didn’t know,” he says immediately, like he’s desperate for you to know he was clueless. “did you know?”

    “kind of. i wanted to ignore it-”

    draco shakes his head, waving a dismissive hand. “no, no. did you know that i love you, too?”

    you open your mouth, but no words come out. your brain just short circuits, taking a second to catch on to what he’s said. that dreary smile is still playing at his lips, and you’re waiting for the moment it turns into a sneer, a mocking little smirk.

    it doesn’t.

   “oh right,” you mumble. “no. i had no idea.” you pause. “are you taking the piss out of me?”

    he laughs, a rare and pleasant sound. he approaches you, kneels at your side on the sofa and cups your head in his hands. you melt into him, even though every instinct in your body is telling you to pull away, to run away, because this is nothing more than false hope. he’s playing a trick on you. you’ve annoyed him to breaking point, and now he’s found the perfect chance for revenge.

    but his hands are so warm, and nice, and your cheek dips into his palm so easily, like it belongs there.

    “you’ve always been kind of not smart in my eyes,” he says.

   your eyes widen. “hey!”

   “kidding. i’m kidding.” he chuckles, running his thumb along your lower lip. “but you’re not doing your intelligence any justice right now. i thought i was making my feelings pretty clear.”

   you glare; he knows full well he hasn’t made his feelings clear. neither of you have. you’ve spent the past seven years pretending to hate each other.

   he grins. “okay, maybe i didn’t make it so easy. but you didn’t make it easy for me, either.”

   “i still don’t believe you.”

   he raises a brow. “why?”

   you shrug. “it just doesn’t seem possible that someone like you could fall in love with someone like me.”

    his eyes soften. “wow. maybe you are not very smart.” 

   before you have a chance to protest, he kisses you. just like that, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, or maybe like it’s an action he’s been waiting to do for years, and now he’s finally got the chance. that’s what it’s like for you, this coil unravelling in your gut after years and years and years of ignoring it’s existence.

   you run your hands through his hair, tugging on those pesky strands at the back that always stick up because he refuses to wear anything other than collared shirts. he growls into your mouth, pulling you closer, closer, closer, until your legs are tangled with his, and his fingers are tracing a line down the centre of your throat. he stops at the hollow, just to feel the bob of your throat as nerves spiral through you. he grins against your mouth, pulling away to see the shock in your eyes.

    he’s so proud of himself. he’s made you a mess.

    you smile awkwardly, trying to regain some amount of composure. he watches you, heavy lidded, one hand still clutching your knee as the other curls around your throat, just where your neck and shoulders meet. the way he stares at you, it’s like he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. 

     “so,” you begin. “you’re worry wasn’t actually just for your family name, was it?”

   draco sighs, plonking his forehead against your own. “no, y/n, it wasn’t. my worry was losing you. which i very nearly did tonight.”

   “don’t be so dramatic. i wouldn’t have died.”

   “you could have.”

   “but i wouldn’t have, because that guy was drunk, and a muggle, and-”

   “are you two arguing again?”

   you and draco jump apart as narcissa storms into the lounge, wand clutched to her chest. her narrowed eyes are firm on draco. 

   “i told you to keep them comfortable!” she exclaims. “can you not put your differences aside for ten minutes?”

    you grin, teasingly running a finger along draco’s spine. “yeah draco. listen to mummy.”

    he growls, but turns to narcissa and says, “sorry, mother. you know how y/n gets.”

   “yes, i know,” narcissa mumbles. “but they’re injured. now, let me take this phone call, and then we’ll set up the guest bedroom. can i leave you alone for ten more minutes?”

   “yes,” you and draco both reply immediately. narcissa hums, and walks out.

   draco immediately spins, grabs your wrist and pulls you to him, slamming his lips to yours. you laugh against his mouth, melting into the embrace for only a second before pulling away and saying, “she’s trusting us to behave for ten more minutes, draco. this isn’t behaving.”

    “oh, fuck that,” he scoffs. “come here.”

   you let him pull you closer, closer than you have ever been with him before, because you’ve always been so convinced he never wanted you more than a few feet away from him. suddenly, everything draco has ever said to you is reconstructed in your mind, every action, every little look. 

   you wonder if he’s doing the same. 

[mypoisonedvine]

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (chapter 10 - FINALE)

series masterlist

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind.  you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: 6k

warnings: implied smut, angst, fluff, romcom tropes, lots of swearing, pregnancy mention/minor breeding kink

note: click the asterisk for a hyperlink to a translation when the time comes

Six months later...

“It’s good!” she beamed, setting down the last chunk of pages and taking off her reading glasses. “Oh man, that ending hurt, but it’s really, really good!”

You leaned back into the plush chair and sighed with relief. “You think so?”

“It’s best-seller material,” she assured. “With some editing, of course. God, I can’t believe you were sitting on this for so long.”

“What are the biggest changes you want to make?” you asked.

“Well, I’m thinking we’ll cut the romantic subplot,” she mentioned in passing, like it was no big deal. “It’s distracting.

“Distracing?” you repeated. “Nia, it’s the story. It’s a romance.”

“I thought it was a thriller,” she frowned.

“A romance disguised as a thriller,” you corrected.

“Listen, I get what you mean, but I didn’t get this—” she tapped the nameplate on her desk: ‘NIA BROWN, HEAD PUBLISHER’ in shiny letters— “for nothing. I know what I’m talking about, and I know what your readers want. Violence, gore, drama!”

“It has all that!” you defended. “But it’s all there to talk about the real love he finds in her!”

“What do you mean ‘real love’?” she pressed flatly.

“I mean…” you pondered. “I mean love where you feel like a version of yourself that you actually like. Love where you feel unjudged, no precedents or caveats or back-up plans. Love that fucking hurts because you never wanted to rely on anything or anybody. Love that lives in silence because you don’t even need words.”

She furrowed her brow. “That… sounds nice, I guess, but I don’t think anybody really has that. Everybody needs a back-up plan. Everybody needs words— a writer should know that.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god,” you groaned, your face falling into your hands. “I’m so fucking stupid. Jesus Christ, I’m a moron.”

“What? What’s going on?”

“I had that! I had that, and I let it go! I’m the dumbest bitch on the fucking face of the Earth.”

“Don’t say that,” she soothed, but you were already standing up.

“No, I need to find him,” you decided as you grabbed your coat and briefcase. “I need to go back and try to fix this. I love him, I’ve never— I didn’t know I could love like that, I didn’t know I could be loved like that… oh my god, I need to find him. It isn’t over.”

“It isn’t over?” she repeated incredulously. “You said Michael signed the papers!”

“It’s not Michael,” you rolled your eyes as you stormed out of the office. “It was never Michael.”

You ran into the first telephone box you could find, slamming the door shut as you searched your purse for the business card that probably wasn't even in there.

After a moment, you gasped with delight when you pulled it from a very bottom pocket and began punching in the number as fast as possible with shivering hands, long-distance charges be damned.

“Hello?” the confused voice on the other end answered.

“Mrs. Alberti, hi— does Sebastian still work for you?” you asked hastily.

“No, dear," she sighed, apparently recognizing you by just your voice (and likely your request), "he quit recently, and moved away.”

“Moved?" you repeated with a wrinkled brow. "Where?!”

“I assume back home, sweetheart; to Bucharest.”

“Shit,” you sighed. “Shit!”

“Are you having your ‘run through the airport’ moment, sweetheart?” she realized.

“Yes, I think so— do you have his address?”

“Well, no, but I’ll see what I can find.”

You waited rather impatiently as she shuffled through papers in the background, mumbling to herself as she apparently searched for information that could help you.

“All I’ve got is the address of a previous employer… a carpenter,” she finally explained, breaking the silence. “It was his only reference when he came to work here," she explained.

"Wow, you really did just hire him for his looks," you blurted out.

"He was desperate for work, that boy had nowhere else to go,” she defended.

“Right, well, I guess if that’s my only lead then I’ve gotta go for it,” you decided. “Thank you, Mrs. Alberti.”

“I told you to call me when that book was a hit. Did it happen yet?” she piped up.

“It’s not published yet,” you explained. “It needs some more work… but I think it’s almost ready.”

“I think so, too, dear.”

Learn Romanian in 10 Weeks! A practical language guide.

Week 1, Day 1: Greetings

Hello                      Salut

Goodbye                La revedere

Thank you              Mulțumesc

You’re welcome      Cu plăcere

Good morning         Bună dimineata

Good afternoon       Bună ziua

Good evening          Bună seara

Good night               Noapte bună

You brushed your hair back out of your face with a sigh, turning the page as you mumbled the phrases to yourself. Broken Hungarian and your high school education in Latin were not getting you as far with this as you had been hoping.

How are you?          Ce mai faci

I love you                 Te iubesc

“Te iubesc, te iubesc, te iubesc,” you repeated over and over in a whisper.

Each day you had a new routine: practice Romanian for an hour, check flight prices online (or call the airline), research what you knew about Sebastian and the address Mrs. Alberti had given you, and then get back to practicing Romanian again.

Oh, and occasionally you worked on the edits Nia wanted for your manuscript. You were focusing on the minor changes— grammar errors, rearranging sentences— and putting off her big request for the removal and replacement of the romantic aspects. More than ever, they seemed like the most important thing the book had to offer.

You had a small apartment, just a place to sleep and shower really; much too small to fit everything you’d already taken from Michael’s house (you know, the one that used to be your house) along with what he’d shipped to you that you forgot before. He included a letter in the package as well. You threw it out, unopened.

Truthfully, you never really fully unpacked. As much as you realized you probably should, in order to really feel like you had a real home, you couldn’t bring yourself to empty your suitcases when you knew you’d be packing them again any day now.

You also realized how outrageous this all was. Ignoring the unlikelihood of even finding him in the first place, Sebastian probably wouldn’t want anything to do with you after you broke his heart, left, and then randomly tracked him down after over half a year. But to be totally transparent, you weren’t really doing this to get him back, necessarily. You knew that was probably never going to happen. You were doing this because you needed to try. You needed to go there, and get hurt, and come back knowing you did everything you could: you’d never be able to live with yourself if you did anything less than that.

You couldn’t start your new life until you had put everything else to bed. And if that meant being 100%, painfully certain that you and Sebastian could never be together, then that was just how it needed to be.

After two weeks of looking, there still weren’t any reasonable flights to Bucharest, so you booked another trip by train, figuring you could use the three day trip to brush up on the key Romanian phrases you were going to need as well as prepare your speech.

Yes, your plan was a speech. You didn’t have a back-up plan. You didn’t even have a return ticket back to London yet.

A passage by Yeats came to mind; But I, being poor, have only my dreams. I have spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.

In all your life, you’d never understood before why someone would want to only have their dreams. But now, here you were… and yes, it felt terrifying and vulnerable and uncomfortably naked, but it felt pretty damn good, too.

With a sigh, you scribbled out the last sentence you’d written, tossing the trash paper aside. You looked up out the window at the scenery flying by in a blur, worried that if you didn’t look out from the train every once in a while you’d get motion sickness.

The sun was beginning to set already, the green of hills and trees tinted orange. You only indulged in it for a moment, though, before getting back to this god-forsaken speech you were deadset on finishing before you arrived in Bucharest tomorrow. At first, you’d figured the translating would be the most difficult part… but writing in English wasn’t exactly a piece of cake, either. You had so much to say, and suddenly so few words for any of it.

You’d probably done more editing on this than any of your novels combined; the crumpled up pages spilling out of your wastebasket were proof enough of that.

“And I’m a fucking writer!” you groaned aloud, to no one in particular. “How is anybody else supposed to be able to do this, if I can’t?”

Other people aren’t as emotionally constipated as you, the voice of your inner critic reminded you plainly, making you roll your eyes at yourself.

A rap at your door made you sit up straighter and turn around. A stewardess slid open the frosted glass slightly to give you a friendly smile. “Is everything alright, ma’am?”

Your brows furrowed at the sound of her accent. “Is that a Romanian accent?” you asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” she nodded.

“So you’re fluent in Romanian and English,” you concluded.

“And Portuguese, yes ma’am,” she agreed.

“Could you come in here for a moment and help me translate something?”

She seemed slightly confused at the request but stepped forward, sliding the door most of the way shut behind her. Leaning beside you on the desk, she picked up your handwritten letter and blinked her wide, brown eyes a few times. You felt slightly embarrassed knowing she was reading such intimate thoughts, but that was how it felt the first time someone read anything you wrote so you were pretty much used to it by now.

“I usually ask the passengers what brings them to Bucharest,” she mumbled after a moment. “This is the most interesting thing so far. Am I reading this correctly, that you intend to confess your love to someone you met—” she scanned the page quickly— “during a vacation in Hungary?”

“Yup,” you smiled awkwardly, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word.

“And he doesn’t speak English?” she assumed; you nodded. “And… you don’t speak Romanian?”

You nodded again, and she breathed in and out quickly, sitting beside you as she stared at the letter.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” she explained.

“Sorry for sucking you into the entropic vortex that is my life,” you chuckled.

“I don’t mean to pry,” she sighed, setting the letter down, and you laughed a little internally at the idea that she was worried about prying when she just read the most personal piece of writing you’d ever put to the page, “but do you think this is… enough? I mean, to build a relationship on?”

You just gave her a shrug. “I have no idea. But, you know, I spent my whole life worrying about stuff like that. I dated my husband for seven years before we got married, because I wanted to be sure. I was initially interested in him because he was successful and ambitious, and it made me feel like this was a really secure relationship that I could rely on. I double majored in English and Computer Science because I wanted a more stable career to fall back on in case being a writer didn’t work out, and even though it did, I’ve spent most of my career publishing what I thought people wanted to read instead of what I wanted to write, so I’d have a better shot at a good paycheck. I grew up thinking the best thing I could ever have was security. And now I’m divorced, watching my royalties shrink every month, more insecure in every way than I’ve ever been, and I’m realizing that the choices I made didn’t give me what I wanted. I gave up so much in the name of safety, and I let the one good thing I’d ever found go, so I could go back to being the same person I always was. I’m ready to settle again, if this doesn’t work… I’m ready to accept that this is just the way life goes, and be thankful that I got a taste of the kind of stuff I thought only existed in the sort of books I’d read but never write.”

She swallowed as she looked at you, and you felt your eyes water as you stared out the window towards the dimming scenery one more time, smiling at the sight of a distant village, a church with a steeple, vineyards and farms. Someone’s whole life is in that little town, you imagined, and they’re just watching your train go by like they see every other day.

“Sebastian gave me more security than I’d ever had before, even though the whole thing was such a ridiculous little whirlwind, and nothing like I ever imagined my life could be. But he made me want to be honest and raw and write sappy letters like the one you just read. He doesn’t have any money, at least as far as I know, and I haven’t known him for seven years, and on paper it makes no sense… but you would understand if you knew him. If you felt that joy that he radiates, if you saw him live his simple little life like it’s the best thing in the world. You would understand if you knew how much I needed this. You would understand if you had been just as miserable being who I’ve been for so long, and finally had a chance to be somebody you think you were maybe meant to be the whole time. So, if I never see him again, I hope I just get to thank him.”

You waited for her to say something, but furrowed your brow at the long moment of silence, looking back from the window finally and finding her staring at you with a tear running down her cheek. When you met her gaze, she quickly wiped it away with a sniffle and looked down at your desk again. “Let’s get to translating, shall we?” she announced with a half-smile.

You noticed the way the other passengers looked at you as everyone was in line to deboard from the train car; you stuck out like a sore thumb, since everybody else was carrying heavy luggage and all you had was a backpack.

In your defense, you really had no idea how to pack for a trip where you knew neither the duration nor the true final destination. So, it was mainly filled with your essentials, a few clothes for any kind of weather, and enough leu to buy anything else you needed along the way.

The stewardess was waving goodbye to everyone as they shuffled out into the train station, occasionally stopping to shake a hand or give directions to nearby destinations. When you were just about to pass by, though, she pulled you into a tight hug.

“Good luck,” she whispered, holding you just a moment too long before pulling back and giving you an encouraging look. “If he doesn’t take you back, feel free to blame my translation… because if he knows what’s in your heart, I know he’ll say yes.”

“Yeah, that’s the hard part isn’t it?” you laughed weakly. “Thank you for your help. I guess if I come back alone for the return trip tonight, you’ll know how bad it went.”

“Then I hope I don’t see you again,” she winked.

It being a major train station and all, cabs were waiting around every corner so it was pretty easy to grab one and give them the address you already had written down for this exact purpose.

“This is pretty far,” the driver explained, “on the edge of town. Not a tourist spot.”

“Good, because I’m not a tourist,” you nodded, already only giving him half your attention as you pulled out the translated speech to practice.

“And you can afford this?” he pressed. You sighed and dug through your bag, pulling out a haphazard stack of bills and handing them through the plastic partition.

“Is this enough?” you asked, and he didn’t answer, just taking the money and starting the car as you smiled and leaned back in your seat.

As much as you had tried to convince yourself to not get your hopes up, the butterflies in your stomach felt more like whole birds at this point, demanding to break free as you practiced the words hand-written on the page over and over again, committing it all to memory.

“What are you reading?” the cab driver asked after several minutes.

“Oh, nothing,” you mumbled, “sorry if I’m bothering you, you can turn on the radio.”

“No, it’s not bothering me, but what you are saying… it’s very odd. It sounds like something from a play, or movie,” he explained.

“Um, it’s not,” you replied, a little embarrassed. “But does it sound like it’s from a good movie? Like, if you heard a character say this to another character, would you think they should get together?”

“I… don’t know,” he answered, sounding confused. “I mean, it depends on what happened, right? How they met, how well they get along…”

So, you told him the whole story, as succinctly as possible (which is not very succinct at all). By the end, he was actually giving commentary as you spoke.

“Why the hell did you leave?” he interjected, clearly irritated with you. “You loved him!”

“Yeah, well, sometimes love isn’t enough! I loved my husband too, and look how that turned out,” you defended.

“But that’s different. That was love for all the wrong reasons.”

“I promise, it felt very real at the time,” you shrugged.

“And now?” he countered. “You realize that this man— Sebastian, right?— is real.”

“I hope I’m right this time,” you offered. “But even if I am, he may not agree.”

The driver scoffed, taking a hand off the wheel to wave dismissively. “If he’s anything like you said, then he will still be completely in love with you. After all, you still feel the same way after all this time apart, don’t you?”

“If anything, I love him more every day,” you admitted, your heart beating quickly just to say it aloud.

“You know, when I met my wife, she was engaged to another man. He was rich, good-looking, and he wasn’t even a bad guy unlike this husband you describe. He was a good man, but he wasn’t right for her. They were… content together, but she wasn’t truly happy. Every night I would come to her window and beg her to marry me, because I knew that she knew we were meant for each other, but she was scared because her family wouldn’t approve and she would be a poor man’s wife.”

“How did you convince her to marry you instead?” you asked eagerly, sucked into the story already.

“I didn’t. On the day of the wedding, some people told me to go and break it up but I didn’t. I thought it would be wrong, to try to ruin her happiness and take it for myself by making a scene at the wedding. I realized she was her own woman and if she wanted to choose him, I had to let her. I had locked myself in my house, not wanting to see anyone that day, and she appeared at my door. I didn’t need to convince her because she knew the truth in her heart, and called off the wedding herself.”

“Wow,” you smiled.

“She was still in her dress!” he recalled with a hearty laugh. “She looked like an angel. We were married just a few days later. And next month will be thirty years,” he added as he lifted his left hand to show the golden band on his finger.

“Thirty years, that’s… a long time,” you sighed.

“It wasn’t always easy,” he admitted. “But it was always worth it.”

Just as you wondered what you could possibly say to that, you felt the car slow down to a stop.

“This is the address you gave me, this is it,” he explained, pointing out his passenger-side window. You leaned up against the glass and gasped in dawning fear as you saw the storefront dark and empty inside.

“No, nonono,” you whispered rapidly to yourself as you swung open the door and hopped out, pressing your face against the glass to try to get a look inside and finding what was undeniably a closed carpentry business. There was a note on the door, taped on the inside of the glass, and you knew enough Romanian to know it said something about a vacation and three months.

“Shit!” you yelped, holding your face in your hands, wondering if your journey had come to an end before it really began.

“Are you alright?” the driver asked, rolling down his window to speak to you.

“This was my only lead, I don’t have his real address,” you explained. “He used to work here, I thought maybe someone would know him…”

He sighed, giving you a sympathetic look. “Get back in, we can search nearby. You came too far to give in yet.”

But getting back in the car felt like giving in, too, which you realized as you looked back at the note taped to the carpenter's door. This was the closest you'd gotten, and it felt wasteful to leave with nothing.

Just as you were ready to hop in the passenger seat and start searching aimlessly through suburban Bucharest, or maybe look around for a Romanian yellow pages, you heard a noise from behind you, across the street; a laugh. His laugh. But it couldn’t be because it was too good to be true… and yet you found yourself whipping your head around and hoping beyond all reason that it was Sebastian.

Across the street was a restaurant, with a large patio where patrons were dining and chatting as they sat at wrought iron tables, and your eyes searched the crowd for any signs of him.

And then your gaze landed on a head of thick brunette hair, red and gold highlights so obvious now when the sunlight hit it this way. Broad shoulders wrapped in a white button-up shirt. He was facing away from you but he was looking to the side so you could see his face; he was smiling, laughing at something someone had said. And it was his smile that you recognized; it was like everything else faded away, and in that moment you thought maybe you could almost be happy with just this, just seeing him be happy even if it had nothing to do with you.

“Sebastian,” you called out to him, but he didn’t react. “Sebastian!”

His whole body turned, his eyes met yours, and you couldn't help but let the tears well in your eyes as you ran across the road to him.

He looked, understandably, stunned, and you realized he was actually waiting on a table at the moment; he said something to them, apparently excusing himself, and stepped closer to you.

But he stopped walking, not coming any closer, not exactly dragging you into his arms like you might've preferred, but with a breath to try to soothe your racing mind, you summoned your memories of the practiced letter and began. *

“Când am venit în Ungaria…” you started slowly, doing your best to remember the words and hoping your pronunciation wasn’t too awful, “nu căutam dragoste. Căutam spațiu, claritate și poate o idee de carte de un milion de dolari. În schimb, am găsit tot ce am căutat toată viața mea…”

You did your best to bite back tears, especially when his expression was nearly unreadable and you had no idea how well this was going.

“Ești tu, Sebastian, bineînțeles că ești tu,” you sighed, laughing slightly. “Ai fost acolo pentru mine când nici nu știam ce vreau de la nimeni. Ai fost prietenul meu fără să spui vreodată un cuvânt - cel puțin nu un cuvânt pe care l-am înțeles. M-ai iubit și nu știam ce să fac cu asta, pentru că uitasem cu mult timp în urmă cum se simțea să fii iubit. Și ce simțeai să iubești cu adevărat pe cineva. Dar te iubesc. Și am fost prost să te las să pleci, atât de neconceput de prost. Vreau să fim noi, Sebastian. Lasă-mă să te iubesc, mai dă-mi o șansă și îți promit că nu te voi mai lăsa să pleci niciodată.

The first thing he said was your name, and just the way he said it made you fall in love with him all over again.

“I… I dream that you would come back,” he shakily replied. “But now I cannot believe. You are my dream.”

Tears were openly flowing at this point and you wanted to run into his arms, but you tried to stay calm and hear him out. He stepped closer, almost hesitant, like you would run away if he got too close too fast.

“I love you, very much that I am sure I am insane person,” he explained with a grin, and you giggled. “We will live anywhere, do anything you would like— be my wife.”

You gasped as he pulled you into him, gripping your arms tightly as his desperation became apparent.

“Marry me?” he asked softly.

“Da,” you nodded, “yes, of course, anything—”

He kissed you suddenly, but gently, and it said more than any words in any language could.

It was a small wedding, in the Hungarian countryside by the lake. You could remember diving into that lake for lost pages of your manuscript; you could remember looking out over the water and dreaming of this moment you were living right now, thinking it was impossible.

He didn’t have much family, but they welcomed you with open arms.

Your family, well, they were too busy with planning another wedding, for your ex-husband and your ex-sister. A few of them sent cards but the rest were suspiciously quiet. You honestly didn’t even notice… you had a new family to attend to, anyhow. And it wasn’t like you didn’t have any guests, since you were able to track down and invite a stewardess named Maria, and a cab driver named Andrei and his wife, Paola.

Sebastian’s cousins weaved flowers into your hair and his grandmother tailored her dress to fit you like a glove. A picture of his parents was hung nearby in tribute; he told you they would’ve wanted to see him get married but that he felt, in some way, they were able to even if they had passed away quite some time ago.

You realized you’d never seen him in anything even mildly formal before; in fact, the suit he wore was rather casual, all things considered, but he looked so painfully cute in it. Sometimes you thought he actually looked a bit out of place wearing a shirt, though, especially one that was buttoned up all the way.

Luckily, the shirt was halfway unbuttoned about ten minutes into the reception.

Mrs. Alberti cooked a massive dinner for everyone, and even grew the flowers that you carried down the cobblestone aisle.

And wow, can Romanians drink. You had to be careful not to try to keep up with them, because if you had you would’ve been blacked out halfway into the night and the last thing you wanted was to forget even a moment of this.

As the night started to wind down to a close, you and your new husband retired to the lakehouse, running up the stairs and finding them as creaky as always.

He wrapped his arms around you in the hall and kissed you eagerly as you stumbled back into the bedroom, tripping over the doorway and falling onto the bed together.

It felt so right to have his weight on top of you, to feel his smile against your lips, to wrap your arms around his neck.

“This room,” he mumbled into the kiss. “Do you remember first time?”

“Yes,” you nodded, “da, I remember, how could I forget?”

He grinned and moved his lips down to your neck. "I thought of you every day… I love you,” he whispered.

“Te iubesc,” you whispered back.

It was almost like the first time in so many ways: passionate, yet oddly hesitant as you rediscovered each other. It was comfortable, though… you couldn’t think of any other person you felt so comfortable with, somebody who finally got you out of your own head and who made you want to experience everything life had to offer.

You were sure you’d never gone so long without worrying about something in all your life.

“My wife,” he whispered against your skin. “This is all I had wanted… from seeing you in very beginning.”

“You’re all I ever wanted,” you sighed in return, “ești tot ce mi-am dorit vreodată, Sebastian.”

Life with Sebastian was beautifully simple. You spent most of the day writing, usually, while he built furniture to sell and occasionally gardened with his spare time. You could always tell how busy you’d been with a new novel lately by how perfectly groomed the hydrangea bushes were.

You’d told him once that you’d come to Hungary looking for a million-dollar book idea. A Killer in Disguise performed alright, but not anywhere near that. The Language of Love, on the other hand, was definitely a million-dollar idea… about eleven times over. Sebastian didn’t seem to worry too much about how much money you made, though; he was just proud to say that he was the inspiration for your hit novel. You secretly suspected that he was more proud of your work reaching enough international notoriety to be translated into Romanian.

His English still needed some work, but you found it endearing. He was determined to get better and spent at least a half-hour each day practicing, but you hoped he wouldn’t get too perfect because you would miss the silly little mistakes he made. At least you could be sure he’d keep the accent forever… damn, that accent; and he knew exactly what it did to you, too.

In fact, you were crossing through the hall in your robe one evening when your husband’s voice stopped you.

“Darling wife,” you heard Sebastian call from the bedroom in a playful sing-song.

“What is it, Seba?” you asked with a smirk.

“Come in here, please…”

You opened the bedroom door to find most of the room covered in rose petals: most of all the bed, which was surrounded by candles, and topped with a shirtless (as per usual) Sebastian, laid on his side seductively with a long-stemmed rose (one you recognized from his very own garden) between his teeth.

“What are you doing?” you laughed. “Is this some sort of special occasion I’ve forgotten?”

You were already searching your mind for what it could be, but your two-year anniversary had passed a few months ago already and since it was spring it couldn’t be the anniversary of when you first met since that was late in the summer.

“Iss not quite a thpecial occathion yeth,” he answered before taking the rose from his mouth so he actually made sense. “I was considering it could be a special occasion, when we’re done…”

You smirked and climbed over the candles and into bed with him, taking the opportunity to run your hands over his chest. “And what occasion would that be?”

“A year from now, it could be the anniversary of when our child was conceived,” he answered.

Your breath caught in your throat, your voice reduced to a whisper of surprise. “Seba—”

“If you’re not ready, I will be understand,” he instantly added, stern yet soft. “Only if you want this, I just thought that maybe—”

You silenced him with a kiss, lacing your fingers into his hair and letting him roll you onto your back. He pulled back just enough to let you answer, but your noses were still bumping into each other and you smiled.

“I’m ready, Sebastian. More than ready,” you whispered.

He grinned and kissed you again, deeper and slower as he held your face with one hand and gripped your waist with the other. As his lips trailed down to your neck, you were interrupted with one pressing thought.

“Can I ask you something?”

He popped up and looked down at you with a smile. “Sure!”

“Why are you wearing ratty old jeans?” you laughed.

“Hey, these worked on you the first time,” he defended.

You gasped. “You don’t mean those are the jeans—”

“Yes,” he nodded, “the jeans that I had been wearing when I was working on Mrs. Alberti’s cottage. And, truly, when I was finding an excuse to work outside your window.”

“Wait,” you sat up, “did you actually work outside my window on purpose?”

He laughed, hanging his head quickly before looking back at you again with a sparkle in his eye. “You are very smart, my love, except for those times when you are— how do you say? Oblivious.”

You chuckled, unfortunately very aware that he was right.

“Didn’t you ever wonder why I was building a window frame, nearly a dozen metres away from the window it was for?”

You thought for a moment before dropping your face into your hands and laughing. “No, I didn’t notice that. I was too busy giving you a thorough eye-fuck,” you recalled.

“Yes, because I was not wearing a shirt and this distracted you,” he pondered, sounding suddenly like a scientist explaining a theorem or something. “See, that’s the beauty of wearing the jeans and no shirt. The body distracts you while the jeans seduce you.”

“How about you take the jeans off and put that body on me, capisce?” you pleaded; not that you didn’t love his humor or anything, but maybe his funny bone wasn’t exactly the bone you were interested in at the moment.

He grinned devilishly and suddenly pulled your legs apart, settling his body between them as he kissed your neck again, nipping at your jawline and ear. “You’re being impatient, dragă,” he purred. “You want to have my baby that badly?”

You whined involuntarily, arching your back as his hands roamed your body and finally began to untie your robe and push the silk out of the way. “Yes, Sebastian, please—”

“Let’s just say, theoretically, I wanted to have more than one? Would you have another of my children?” he asked softly as he reached up and palmed at your breasts, teasing your nipples which were already much too hard and sensitive for how little he’d touched you. The rough denim rubbing against the inside of your thighs was oddly arousing— maybe it was the sensation itself, or maybe it was just that this was almost like the first thing you imagined when you saw Sebastian all those years ago.

“Yes,” you moaned out your answer, “yes, you know I’d do anything for you.”

“What if I wanted a big family?” he pressed. “Really big? Like, Catholic big?”

“We can have our own fuckin’ Brady Bunch, Seb, I just need you right now,” you begged, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a hot and desperate kiss.

He decided to wait until afterwards to ask what a ‘Brady Bunch’ was. You decided to wait until afterwards to ask when he’d learned how to use the word ‘theoretically’.

sfarsit; the end

[yesimwriting]

Searing Starlight (chapter 3)

A/n I CANNOT believe how many people have supported this story,, I’m so excited to continue it with you guys :)) 

Just a reminder that while this is based off the show i hope to blend in some book aspects/vibes and this is just a fanfic and it won’t be completely accurate/follow the show 100% and any changes I make/parts I chose not to focus on are for the sake of the story I’m trying to tell 

-- 

I can’t tell if I wish Kaz had let me go with Inej or not. She’s faster than I am, and considering that I have no real reason to be loyal to them, I’m a flight risk. That means I’m stuck here with only the Kaz Brekker and Jesper, who I tricked. I hadn’t exactly befriended Inej entirely in the few minutes I was alone with her, but she seemed more trustworthy than them. More susceptible to reason. And when she heard where I was from, who was responsible for raising me, something in the way she watched me changed. It was the oddest combination--a look of both tired sympathy and cautious admiration.

“What I don’t understand…” Jesper breaks the silence. “Is why you all go back there. He lets you leave, he gives you money--there’s no reason to return.” 

I try not to let the question anger me. I shift awkwardly, scratching at my palm. “We tried leaving.” My stomach knots. “Once.” How do I make them understand? “He caught us because we young and stupid, and then he…” I exhale slowly. They’re just words. They don’t change anything. Whether I speak them or not, the events of my history aren’t different. “He picked the youngest, a girl only six months younger than me, and he slit her throat from ear to ear and took a finger of anyone that flinched as her blood splattered onto them. He said her blood was our penance and to live with knowing what we did to her would be our punishment.” 

I don’t tell them that I was twelve. I don’t tell them Anya lied about my birthday on the records. I don’t tell them I’m missing the very tip of my pinky--a small punishment for the twitch of my lip. “When Kenya is truly angry, he never hurts you--he hurts those around you.” No one responds to that. They’re making me seem like such a bummer. “It’s not awful all the time...he borders on agreeable when you listen to him.” 

Most days we have peace, left to our own devices as long as we accomplish certain goals. Their silence does little to unnerve me. After speaking so freely of such a nightmare, the desire to be rid of the taste of those words from my mouth is almost overwhelming, but I hold to the silence. 

“Why has he never sold you to the grisha that are so desperate for you?”

Of course Kaz Brekker would ask a question like that. “He isn’t the business of money, he’s in the business of creating gods. He indentures people he thinks could one day become saints or something else entirely. He wants to be owed by the heavens.” 

I watch Kaz carefully, a part of me curious about how someone like him could react to a goal like that. I can see him understanding the ambition of it all, but I can’t imagine himself a person of faith. Perhaps he’ll think it a clever trick. Perhaps he’ll even agree with Kenya.

He nods once; something I get nothing from. 

Whatever. He can be coy and distant this entire time. They all can. I’ll be out of here soon enough, and I’ll find Anya. And if I can stop something bad from happening to Alina then that’s a bonus I’m willing to take risks for. 

“That man is awful.” 

Inej’s voice comes from right behind me. I snap my head around. “You’re in here.” 

She nods once, oblivious to how shocking her sudden appearance is. She hands me a knapsack casually, staring at Kaz. “What’s the plan? We have six hours.” 

I look around the room, only seeing one closed window and one closed door. “There’s one door in this room.” 

“We take the Inferni to the ship.” He doesn’t even bother looking in my direction. 

Okay, they can be mean to be all they want but they can’t ignore me. I don’t think I’ve ever been ignored in my entire life. Gods in the making get attention. It may be the cruel attention of fate, but it’s something. 

“Did she come in through the window?” 

Again, I am ignored. 

“And then what, boss?” Jesper casually crosses the room, sitting down next to me on the small couch. It’s like I’m not even here. “We’d need to break into the Little Palace to get Alina.” 

What? “You guys are going to--” No. No. I am not kidnapping Alina. And there’s no way she’d be in the Little Palace. “First off--if you want to kidnap Alina Starkov for whatever insane ploy you’re all playing at, you’d never find her at Little Palace. She’s not a Grisha and second--” I cut myself off, standing from my seat. “Why am I even telling you this? I shouldn’t be helping you kidnap her.” 

Kaz’s eyes dart to me boredly. At least it’s some kind of acknowledgement of my existence. “I thought you two weren’t close.” 

I seriously consider scorching him. Just a little. Not even enough to scar him, just enough to get him to shut up. “She’s still a person who has a right to her body and what happens to it.” 

“Not that it’s any of your concern, but if we pull this off we get one million kruge.” 

What does he think I’m going to say? ‘Okay, well as long as you’re doing it for a good reason.’ Is that the response he expects. “Okay, well that makes it fair.” 

His eyes narrow skeptically, but Jesper is the one to ask, “Really?” 

“No,” I scoff, slumping back into my seat, “I was being sarcastic.” 

I drop my head back, neck craning over the back of the small couch. It isn’t exactly comfortable, but at least it makes it easier to ignore them. I’ve kept worse company for less. There’s an odd silence for a long second. I look forward without moving, I see Kaz vaguely gesture in Inej’s direction.

“Y/n,” Inej’s voice is refreshingly measured, “I think after the kinds of things we’ve gone through we understand that there’s some relativity in morality.” 

I shift my head to the right so I can look at her. “...Yes, but you’re just forcing another girl into a similar situation.” Why is Alina even worth so much? “And why would anyone pay so much for Alina?” 

Inej hesitates, glancing at Kaz and then back at me. “She’s a Sun Summoner.” 

On instinct, I straighten entirely, my body rigid. They’re insane. “You all are cracked if you think Alina’s a Sun Summoner.” No. No. It couldn’t be her. “Bless your hearts, seriously, she’s--she was trained to be a map maker--she’s not…” None of them relax, none of them shift in any way. What good would lying about this bring them? They have no reason to lie about this. “Saints, I should have had more to drink while downstairs.” 

So what if she’s a Sun Summoner? She didn’t ask to be one. She doesn’t deserve this. I cross my arms. “It doesn’t make this okay.” 

“And would it make it okay if you were getting a cut of the profit?” What? 

Kaz is looking at me in that tactful way. It takes all of my focus to not let myself become unnerved. “What?” 

“If I offered you a cut, would you be able to push aside more protests in order to make working with you easier?” 

Could I do it? Could I betray Alina? I drop my gaze away from his, opting to focus on the forgotten lantern on the coffee table in front of me. It flickers to life with no conscious prompting on my part. The flame is low and blue. Still though, Kaz notices it. What doesn’t he notice? 

“I can help you do what I agreed to.” I swallow around a lump in my throat, “But I cannot help you kidnap Alina.” 

The corner of his mouth tugs downwards. “We’re just going to get her to work with us.” 

“Work with you?” 

“We never said anything about taking her, and if Alina is really your friend you should know that the entire world is after her. Better us who can get her out of an unwanted situation quickly than the brutal General Kirigan who will hold her hostage until she does what he wants.” 

...I guess he has a point. “Oh.” I’m not naive enough to think that their methods will revolve around making Alina comfortable, but perhaps it’s not as dark as I assumed. “Maybe I was a little quick to assume…” I trail off awkwardly, looking at Inej for some type of reassurance. She avoids my gaze. 

I scratch the back of my arm, feeling like a spiraling child. I pick up my knapsack and place it on my lap, fiddling with the strap. 

“Come on,” Kaz stands, adjusting his grip on his cane, “We only have until sunrise.” 

As I stand, I pull down the skirt of my dress, suddenly aware of how inappropriate my clothing is for this late in the night. “Can--can I change first?” 

It’s a sheepish question, leaving me feeling like a child. 

“Five minutes,” Kaz offers, stepping out of the room with the rest of them. 

Inej leaves last, feet more silent than a cat. She offers me the tiniest hint of a smile. Despite my reservations, I beam at her. Something about me finds her politeness endearing despite it all. I think she closes the door loudly on purpose, to assure me of privacy. 

Normally changing in a building so full of drunk men would leave me nervous, but knowing Inej is outside leaves me feeling safe. I may not trust her with my life but something about her being tells me she values personal autonomy enough to protect it. 

I sift through the belongings Inej brought me. Clean underwear I try not think of her searching for, a thin white dress, comfortable pants, shorts, a few casual shirts, my red hood, and a nightgown. When I get to the bottom of the bag, and I see the personal belongings Inej smuggled back for me, I’m moved so powerfully my hand flies to my mouth on instinct. She had brought the folded up piece of paper with the only information I’ve been able to find about Kamil, the book I left on my nightstand, the small candle holder Alina had given me the day before I was taken away, the blade Mal had given me the day I left, the deck of playing cards Anya had first taught me to play with, and my mother’s necklace. The silver north star on a long chain. 

Before I can become too emotional, I take off the Crow’s Club T-shirt Inej had given me when I looked cold. I change into black pants, tucking the small blade Mal had given me into the pocket. The shirt I put on is pale blue, breaking the dark theme of everything around me. I fasten my red hood over my shoulders, basking in the familiar fabric. Lastly, I pull the north star necklace over my head, watching the blue orb with a black dot at its center blink at me in the light. I always found the stone at the pendant’s center odd. I'm quick to walk towards the door, nervous about what wasting their time could mean. 

“Let’s do this,” I sigh, pushing open the door. 

They all pause. Or maybe they were never moving. I try to imagine them interacting normally, but it’s hard to picture them as anything but intense and unflinching. There’s something odd about them, though, Jesper practically sulking and Kaz dropping his head despite Inej’s harsh stare.

“What kind of stone is in your necklace?” 

I swear to the Saints that if Kaz Brekker tries to steal it I’ll melt those leather gloves into his hands. “Try to take it and--” 

“That’s what I get for trying to make ‘polite conversation.’” He throws a look at Inej as he speaks the last two words. 

Wait--did Inej tell him to try to make polite conversation? Wait--more importantly, did he just kind of, almost say something that borders on casual? 

Wrinkling my nose, I let out a slight sigh. “Sorry.” 

His eyebrows draw together quizzically. “Did you just apologize for assuming I’d steal from you?” 

Great. Now I’m fully embarrassed. “Can we just go?” 

“Not before meeting me, I hope.” The stranger’s voice means nothing to me, but the others tense at it immediately. What? The man continues to walk forward, his steps too casual and confident for me to trust. The stranger is quick to respond to the question on my face, “Pekka Rollins.” 

--

Taglist: @ambrosia-v-black @fandomstuffff @boxofteenageideas @losers-club6 @cityofstaars @stillreadingfantasy @slatersbrekker  @xoxo-aclown @alzawas-plug @nuwanda-greaser @swearingsolemnly @-thatgirloverthere-

General Taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7

[daetaechanster]

Deku, Bakugo and Kirishima

Okay I wanna preface this post by saying first, this isn’t a post about Bakudeku (you’re itching to call me out, I feel it, but don’t do it) and while I will be mentioning the Kiribaku ship, it will be me mostly mentioning the FANS of this ship and the ideals around that ship. If this doesn’t apply to you, please gloss over it. This post was caused by once again, seeing SOME Kiribaku’s speak absolute garbage all over Tiktok. Wrong garbage mind you. Now let me start..

---------

When was it, that fans suddenly decided that for Kiribaku to be a ship, that suddenly people had to downplay Deku’s importance in Bakugo’s life. Yes, Bakugo use to bully Deku and he was wrong for it, he was a little fucking shithead for it. But that was in chapter one of the manga and season 1 episode 1 of the show. Where are we now? About to hit chapter 305 (leaks today whoo) and we’re about hit season 5. Things of changed, Bakugo has changed, and if you can pick up what Horikoshi is putting down, then you KNOW things have changed in their relationship.

Now what these Tiktoker Kiribaku’s like to claim is that Bakugo doesn’t care about Deku, doesn’t even LIKE Deku. That the only person Bakugo cares about is Kirishima... you can headcanon all you like that Kirishima is Bakugo’s most important person. You can 100% believe that and use it for your fanon content. But that is all it is, headcanon and fanon, because it isn’t true. And BECAUSE it isn’t true and is fanon, Do not come at people who believe CANON FACT and tell them they’re wrong and your headcanon is right.

Why does Bakugo’s relationship with Deku have to be diminished for Kiribaku’s ship to flourish? Why? When did that become a thing? because a LOT of people spread around this garbage like it’s fact.

Now i’m going to get into the major point these Tiktoker Kiribaku’s made, and what I think is the worst take i’ve ever heard. Ahem.

‘Kirishima cared about Bakugo the most which is why he went to Kamino to save him, and Bakugo cared about Kirishima the most which is why he took his hand’

I’m going to get into how WRONG this statement is. 

The person who found out that Bakugo was going to be kidnapped was Deku. Deku found out during his fight with Muscular and after the fight was over, his first thought was to get Kota to safety so he could save Kacchan. He told the pussycat lady to alert everyone to Kacchan’s possible kidnapping, which is where Kirishima heard about it.

As you’d expect, Kirishima got upset and instantly wanted to go out and help protect Bakugo. Why? because he is his FRIEND. Canonly they’re not together so we are going forward with their platonic relationship, which is canon. He wanted to save his friends, as did others in the group, but he wanted to save him most. But he couldn’t. (Something we later learned was a trigger for Kirishima in season 4)

Because Deku was out on the field, he was able to go and try to save Bakugo. That boy ran around, in absolute pain to the point that some of the class commented on the fact he should be unconcious right now. But that didn’t matter because he wanted to save Bakugo. And he tried his hardest, despite being in pain and his arms not working, Bakugo gets taken, telling Deku ‘Not to come’. I like to believe he said that because Deku was injured and WOULD be killed following him, because Bakugo knows Deku would follow him into fire. Like Deku knows Bakugo best, Bakugo also knows Deku best (minus the whole looking down on him stuff, wtf Bakugo.) But because that was never established, we’ll leave that up to interpretation.

Something these Tiktokers used in their arguement was that Kirishima was the one who decided to save Bakugo, nobody else. Which.. just isn’t true at all. Another thing they said was DEKU DIDN’T PLAN TO SAVE HIM. Again, not true.

Lets go back to before Deku was in hospital and Bakugo was kidnapped. When Bakugo was gone, Deku SCREAMED in absolute DISPAIR (these tiktokers also commented that Deku hates Bakugo and all I can do is LOL, won’t even entertain that.) Deku was in such ABSOLUTE DISPAIR that he instantly went into shock. Shock, that he said, lasted for the 2 whole days in hospital, he couldn’t remember a thing. The only moment he remembers WHY he was in shock, was when the whole class were there and Todoroki told him about it.

Also at this point, while Deku is in shock, Kirishima and Todoroki had 2 whole days with a clear head to decide they were going to save Bakugo, consequences be damned.

What happened after remembering Kacchan was taken? Deku came out of his shock and burst into tears. He failed to save Kacchan and it HURT him. And then Kirishima mentions the rescue.. the rescue that he AND TODOROKI PLANNED. Do people not remember that while Kirishima had decided he was going to save Bakugo, that Todoroki ALSO had the same plan?? That if Kirishima hadn’t intended to save him, Todoroki would have mentioned the plan to Deku himself???

I 100% believe, as should ANYONE who knows Deku as a character and as someone who’s always cared about Bakugo despite him being an asshat, would have also come up with a plan to save Bakugo if he hadn’t been in hospital with damaged arms and in complete shock and disassociation.

I now want to point out a panel that people seem to forget:

For people to believe Deku doesn’t care as much as Kirishima does about Bakugo, how is it your boy is saying the complete OPPOSITE statement???

Now skip forward to finding Bakugo and AFO. While Kirishima (and Todoroki) had decided they were going to rescue Bakugo, it was Deku who came up with the plan to get Bakugo out of there. Deku planned the best possible way to get Bakugo out of there and not damage his pride in the meantime. Deku could have been selfish and have reached out for Bakugo, because we all know Deku wanted to have been the one to reach out his hand. But he didn’t because Deku knows Bakugo best and didn’t want to possibly upset him.

Bakugo, who feels incredibly insecure when it comes to Deku, how do you think he’d have reacted if Deku saved him A SECOND TIME? First the sludge villian and now Kamino? I’d wager that Deku would expect any chance of reconsilliation between himself and Bakugo to have died that moment if he’d reached out to save him.

Lets be honest, Bakugo would have taken ANYONES hand to get out of there and i’ll explain why that is true in a moment.

Another thing people seem to forget is that Bakugo didn’t tell Kirishima he was the one who should hold his hand out. Bakugo didn’t tell Kirishima that he would only take his hand. No, DEKU said this. Deku who knows Bakugo better than ANYONE. He knew, because currently his and Bakugo’s relationship was rocky, that he couldn’t risk Bakugo’s pride getting in the way of the rescue. So DEKU chose Kirishima to reach out his hand, because Kirishima isn’t someone Bakugo feels threatened by. Deku is Bakugo’s biggest insecurity, him reaching out was a risk Deku wasn’t going to place over saving Bakugo. 

Again, Bakugo didn’t mention ANY of this, he didn’t even know. So how anyone came to the conclusion that canonly, this meant that Bakugo believed Kirishima to be more important than anyone else I will never know.

And when they did save him, Horikoshi put in a VERY BIG CLUE that a lot of people gloss over.

That teeth grit there was put INTENTIONALLY to show that even with Kirishima’s hand out.. he still didn’t want to take it, he didn’t want to have been saved. This is why I believe that he would have taken ANYONE’S hand. For anime fans, this teeth grit was cut out to instead focus on how close Shigaraki got to grabbing Bakugo. 

Bakugo isn’t stupid, he knew he couldn’t stay. For one, he already mentioned that he was in All Mights way by being there. So he HAD NO CHOICE but to take Kirishima’s hand. And when he was saved, he addressed EVERYONE for saving him, not just Kirishima.

Now, for non manga readers, you will have to wait until season 5 to see Bakugo and Deku’s relationship flourish and I don’t want to spoil you. I’m so excited for people to see what their relationship is going to turn into and why it’s one of the most popular canon relationships in the show (and how it’s grown to be one of the biggest ships)

I will give you this though, to indicate just how much Deku means to Bakugo now without spoiling it for anyone. Anyone whos read the manga should know how Bakugo feels about Deku.

For anyone who feels that Bakugo taking Kirishima’s hand indicated how important they were to each other, i’d like to hope you have the same energy for that cover for Vol.29 of the manga drawn by Horikoshi himself. If Bakugo went back, he would have taken Deku’s hand all along. At the river, in Kamino, during the fight. Bakugo wants to hold Deku’s hand now, he wants Deku’s friendship, he wants Deku, and that is platonically canon.

The last thing I want to say is that Kiribaku as a ship can still exist without ignoring how much Bakugo and Deku mean to each other. Kirishima and Bakugo are friends, maybe even best friends canonly (though honestly i’d argue that Kaminari is closer to Bakugo but that’s my personal opinion.)

Deku’s best friends are Iida and Uraraka, but Bakugo is still the person he loves and cares about the most.

Bakugo’s best friends are Kirishima and Kaminari, but Deku is still the person he loves and cares about the most.

Do you see people push Bakugo down to make IzuOcha work? no.

Wanna headcanon that Kirishima is Bakugo’s most important person? Go right ahead. But don’t push it on others as fact when it’s not.

If you have to come to other peoples spaces and force your headcanon on them and disminish the utterly beautiful relationship thats blossoming between Bakugo and Deku, then maybe you shouldn’t be in the fandom. Horikoshi wants you to know how important these boys are to each other and if you can’t see that, don’t comment publically because you sound dumb.

Ship Kiribaku, but do not attack others for things that you have WRONG.

Tldr; Stop erasing Bakugo and Deku’s canon relationship to big up your Kiribaku ship and don’t force that on other people.

[deaconusdelirium]

Have you ever felt so lonely?

Requested: “do it. Break my heart, Crosshair🥲”

Oof, actually this should be better OOF. What you’re asking for is... has to have two parts... maybe three. And I have to change it up a little so it’ll match the story and all, so don’t mind it

———

You ran behind the Batch, keeping your eyes on the back in case any clones were following. You wished Rex would have stayed on Bracca just a bit longer to help with the Empire and Crosshair. Everyone had their chips removed, Wrecker first since he was the one who lost all control of himself. But you didn’t get a chance to do yours since Tech and Omega commed back, saying the Empire was landing. Everyone gathered their things, one thing after another happened, Crosshair was targeting Omega the most. He knew how important she was to Hunter, maybe it was because he was trying to protect her, or maybe to bring Hunter to his lowest point and take him. It didn’t matter, he was still trying to hunt you all down.

The Marauder came into view, you stopped before ramp, turning around, they weren’t going to stop coming. And even then, if you did leave, Crosshair would know and tell the Clones to follow. “Y/n, come on” Echo called out from inside the Marauder. “Let’s go” Hunter joined, seeing you weren’t on board. “Hunter, you have to go. They’re after Omega, maybe even you. You’re the head of the Batch and without you, we’re goners” you exclaimed, “what are you talking about. Get on the ship, that’s an order” Hunter said, slightly yelling since Tech fired up the ship. “Hunter, listen to me. Crosshair is after you and Omega the most. He’s not going to stop until he gets either one of you, I’ll be fine, I’m going to stall him until I’ve got a clearing. Then I’ll come back to the ship” Hunter walked down to where you stood, “you could get caught, we need you” “you may, but you guys are more important. Make sure Omega stays safe, she can’t go back to Kamino. Stay close to the ground and off the Empires radar until you can’t be seen anymore. Once I get a clearing, I’ll come back”

Hunter seemed to think about it since he stood there, “Hunter, we have to go. We don’t have much time” You both turned to look at Tech. “I’ll be fine... if I’m not back within twenty minutes, leave. If even more clones show up, leave. You can’t risk it” “the odds of escaping are not in your favor” Tech calculated, “still, if it’s worth keeping you all safe, so be it. I’m with you till the end Hunter, but it seems we’re going to have to part for now. So I suggest you leave before Crosshair finds us” He moved his hand, maybe to put it on your shoulder, or to make a point, but you gave him a nod, running off down the Star Destroyers hallway until they couldn’t see you anymore. “Hunter, I don’t think it was the best idea to let her leave” Echo called out while Omega ran towards Hunter, pulling on his belt. “Tell Y/n to come back, we can’t leave her” “get on the ship Omega” “Hunter” Omega said, still trying to yank him towards where you ran off, “come on” he picked her up and walked aboard.

“Where’s Y/n?” Wrecker asked, trying to see where you were on the ship, Tech looked at him and looked back down. Wrecker understood, not wanting to ask any further. “Be careful Y/n” Hunter commed you, “I will”

—

You ran down the hallway, your helmets HUD adjusting to the darkness inside. You put your blaster away, crawling through the fallen metal panels that use to be the roof. Once on the other side, you seem clones scanning the halls, you stopped, not wanting to attract them with your footsteps, “hey! Freeze!” You turned and seen other troopers down the hall, one of them called somebody. “They’re still here, we have one pinned down” it must have Crosshair they commed, you shot both clones. The other two you were looking at down the other corridor, ran towards the shooting, you took cover behind an old crate. Firing when possible. You could either stay here where the Batch was close, and attract more, or you could take off in another direction and go as far away as possible. The problem with that was, if the Batch did find somewhere safe and you were free, then you’d have to run back. Too far.

You thought harder, you’d lay your life down for your sergeant and your colleagues. For they were all you ever known. “Do it for Omega” you whispered to yourself, she hasn’t even gotten the chance to start her life, and right when she has, she’s already being tracked and trying to be taken away. You kneeled up again, not shooting at the clones but dodging their shots and running off down the hall you stunned the first couple of clones. You ran down the hall, hearing the repeating of their boots bounce off the walls. You kept telling yourself ‘get as far away from the ship as possible’ while taking different turns and running into other patrols. You now had no other choice than to shoot. You stayed your ground, being outnumbered in a room while a group of troopers were out in the hall waiting for you. You listened to the troopers radio others, saying that the Batch was still here and they haven’t left. So that either meant all patrols would follow you while still thinking the others were here with you.

“Surrender. Now!” Ok, here it goes again. “Hunter” you commed him, “Y/n, are you coming back?” He asked, sounding worried, “Hunter you need to leave now” you peaked and seen the clones still aiming their weapons while trying to tell you to surrender. Of course Crosshair would want you alive, “Y/n, I told you this was a bad idea!” He yelled from the other side, hearing the clones in the background. “I don’t care, leave Hunter. If they find me, their going to know that you’re still here. Get off the planet as fast as possible” “were coming back” “Hunter. No. The place is swarming with Troopers, if you come back and get captured, then I failed at protecting you. I’m no soldier if you do, go” you waited for Hunters objections again, but Omega spoke next, “Y/n, please don’t do this. Come back, we need you. I need you ” you heard her plea, “no can do, I’ll see you later ‘mega” you closed off the line, standing up while raising your hands. Putting your blaster down and doing as they told you.

The cuffs were bind tightly against your wrist as you tried to get at least a bit more comfortable with them. One of the clones pushed you into a room, the engine room? Crosshair stood there, a datapad in his hand while other Elite troops tried telling him that if you were here, than the other must be. “Sir, we found one” you stood in front of Crosshair, looking at him through your helmet, he was quiet, seeming like he was examining you. “Leave.” He told the others, “but commander-” “I said, leave.” He turned his head a little, sounding threatening as he grew impatient with them. They nodded; walking out the both doors and you were left alone with him. “Y/n. What am I going to do with you?” He asked, looking you up and down, you didn’t respond, not knowing what to say.

“Forgotten already?” He asked, “no” you replied, he scoffed, “you don’t see the bigger picture do you? They left you, why do you think they sent you on your own?” he emphasized the ‘left you” part, circling you while trying to look for any sort of communication device to the Batch on you. “I may have been sent on my own, but they haven’t forgotten about me” you followed his movements as he stood back in front of you, he suddenly took his helmet off. Oh that same face you fell in love with, it was just his chip that made him this way. This wasn’t real. “Tell me, where are they? Maybe I’ll even consider letting you go” he spoke. He wasn’t going to, you knew him better than that to believe that he never went through with breaking an order. He watched as you stood there, not moving. You wanted to just disappear under his gaze, for this to be all over.

“Y/n” he called out, his hands came up to your helmet as you pulled away, not wanting for him to take it off. He grew annoyed as you turned your head again, he pushed you on the ground, finally taking it off. You glared at him, “come on Y/n, you deserve better than them. Better than what you’re being treated as now, you’re even lower than that Reg Echo” you never took comments from other people that tried to bring you down, but something about words like that, coming from him started to shatter the glass. You blocked his words, looking away, “join the Empire... join me. Together, we’ll be unstoppable Cyar’ika” he bent down to your height, pushing your head to meet his gaze. The one name he use to call you, sounding so sweet and loving, now sounded cold and broken.

“I hope you know that I’m not doing this for our relationship” you snapped, he only hummed. He knew you were stubborn, one of the many reasons why he fell for you. “I know. That’s why we’re weren’t working out with the Batch. We couldn’t be together, but now. If you tell me, join me, then we’ll be with each other forever” if it was the real Crosshair talking, then maybe you would have said yes, but this wasn’t him. “We still wouldn’t be able to work out, I fell in love with the other Crosshair, not. What you are now” he heard the pain in your voice alright, and took that as an advantage. “Why are you even protecting what you could be so higher, for? Or is it a who? Have you been sneaking around with Hunter, should I have to worry about him?” Something struck a string with that sentence. Was he questioning your love for him?

“I’m keeping them safe. From you” “from me? Or from yourself? The only reason why you’re on this planet is for those chips to be taken out, these Star destroyers have the technology to do that” he pointed out, pushing your hair back and seeing no sign that you had your chip removed. “I could have your chip activated any time I wanted” “then why didn’t you do it?” You asked, he was always known to be one step ahead but this went in the wrong direction from what you planned, “because I wanted you to come back to me. To where you belong” you shut your eyes from that sentence.

~

You and Crosshair had just gotten the chance to get away from the Batch and Marauder. Taking the time to be together without someone always around the corner, “Crosshair?” You called him, as he looked down at you, “Y/n” “we belong together, right?” “Now why would you ask something so absurd? We don’t belong together, we’re meant for each other. You watch me, I watch you”

~

Of course he’d use that against you, he knew how to break you. “No” you whispered as he grabbed the hem of your blacks, “you have the chance, you join me, save the Batch while they run with the time they have for now. Or you could be thrown in with the other traitors while he continue this hunt for them. You’re choice” he threatened, pulling you up so you could be closer. “Cross... what’s wrong with you?” You questioned, looking at him in his brown eyes, trying to look for the old Crosshair in them. Your cuffed hands came up to his wrist that held your shirt. “Don’t stall, I can give you the answer when you’ve made up your mind. Now hurry. We wouldn’t want your friends to get any further” did the Batch even leave? Or were they still here?

“I see whats happening, you’re weighing your options aren’t you?” You looked at him, he found innocence in them for a second. “Wh-what are talking..” “why else would they have agreed for you to stay behind and be used as a distraction? You’re useless to them now, if you meant more to them, then you would be far away in the galaxy somewhere with them while you tended to your own wounds. Right? Remember I’m the one that used to help you while no one else did? They wouldn’t leave their own behind, and it shows they you aren’t one of them. They’ve probably already forgotten about you like they have to me, they’re taking care of that.. child. While you’re here taking the blame for them. Think about it” his grip tighten on your shirt, you felt it through his wrist as it tensed.

“But I’m the one who told them I’d do it” “and they believed you. If they actually loved you, they would have stayed and fought for you. Or maybe they’re scared of you, that your chip might activate and you’re going to hurt them so they took the opening chance they had to go and leave you” the more he talked, the more it made sense. “You trust me right?” He asked, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear as he caressed your cheek with his gloved hand. You weakly shook your head no, his words already taking effect on you, on your heart, on your love for him. “Perhaps you’d like to know more? Cause I can take you back to Kamino and interrogate you all day and tell you everything that Hunter hasn’t. You’re what we have, and you’re what we need. I’ll take you over the others any day” a tear slid down your cheek as he watched, now that you were vulnerable, he took it upon himself to actually try and get you to cooperate.

“Now Mesh’la,” he kissed the tear away, “you’re going to be the good lover you always were and follow me. You have no other choice, they’re not coming back for you, even I would have turned back around, even stay behind with you” he stood up, grabbing the middle of your cuffs and pulling you along with him. “This is another one of your tricks, isn’t it? You’re going to use me. Under that chip of yours, you’re only a toy for the Empire” you called out, “it’s better than disobeying all orders from the republic and making us look bad” his silver hair fell into his face as he bent down to pick up both helmets. “I don’t even know who you are anymore” you whispered to him, he was taken back at your words. Your sentence hit something in him and he almost felt sorry, “then.. maybe think of me as the old Crosshair, just.. stronger and superior than the last” he pulled you along while he commed the other troopers and Elites to get on the ships and that he was coming back.

You staggered after him down the hallways as you followed, “Cross..” you gently called out, he heard the pain in your voice, he stopped, turning to look at you. “Do want the weak, unwanted old me to love you? Or do you actually want the me who can protect you, protect us from people trying to tear us apart. Hunters been telling you things about me, hasn’t he?” Now he sounded like he was hurt, “no, no no. He always spoke good about you, even Omega. We missed you Cross... I missed you. And, and I’m not going to help you unless you give me the freedom I want. No cuffs, no guards, no spying on me while I’m on your side” something switched inside you, making you see the outcome Crosshair tried to tell you about, he sarcastically laughed at your attempt, “I’m not that dumb Cyar, try again” he looked at you, and you had that serious look on your face that mean you weren’t going to go unless you got what you wanted.

“How can you trust me when I can barely even trust you with all these things on and around me? I mean it Cross. I’m already outnumbered, there’s no point in trying something” ok, you had a point, there was troops outside waiting for the both of you as well. “I’m not going to follow you unless I know you’re following me” you spoke, he slowly nodded, understanding what you meant. He hand came to undo the cuffs that binded your hands together. “Tell me, why? Why all of a sudden change your mind, just a few minutes ago you declined my offer” he asked, curious on your answer since he thought you had nothing to say. “Because I’ve thought about it, you’re making more sense than Hunter has these past few days. I never realized how much they used me until you pointed it out... I want them to feel what they made me feel. What I’m feeling”

He nodded, finally seeing what you were explaining. “I didn’t know how powerful we could be together, if only you can take me again?” you asked, “who said I left you?” “Hunter did, he said once you changed, you weren’t the same. That meant we wouldn’t be what we used to, he seen us together and he warned us” “only because he knows how we can both get things done, and he’s scared of that” he walked up to you, handing you you’re helmet, “good soldiers follow orders” he spoke against your ear as he moved over to your lips. He passionately took them in his. You could tell it was him, it was the real Crosshairs love but it was the new him that held him back. You returned the gesture, wanting to feel him against you one last time as you were leaving the old you here to die with the Batch.

He smirked, pulling away, “I suggest we get a move on if we want to catch Hunter and the others” you nodded, the thought of Hunter now made you feel betrayed, was this how Crosshair felt? Why risk your life for Omega, she’s a clone, she can always be recreated again. Crosshair motioned for you to follow him, along the way, he told you about how better the Empire was than the Republic. And how planets were brought more freedom than under the republics watch, and if you wanted to keep your homeworld safe, then the Empire would be right behind you to keep it that way.

The sky was dark, and the ships were already running, the troopers aimed their weapons while Crosshair told them that you were on their side. Everyone reluctantly agreed to have you around, you both jumped on a ship, sitting there and thinking about all that’s happened and how Hunter along with the Batch, treated you “here, put this on” Cross threw a helmet your way while he took your old one and put it in his locker. He did like the new sight of you in the new armor, maybe you were meant to work for the Empire. But he’d only know for sure when you got out in the field

———

Ok, so I’m not sure if the heart break starts here, and judging by how it doesn’t seem here yet. I’m thinking there’s gonna be a part three, definitely a part two. But I hope you enjoyed

[topazy]

Silent bloom

Pairings: Finn Collins/ Reader Bellamy Blake/reader

Warnings: swearing, and character death

Chapter: 2.03

"They want you. If we want a truce, we have to give them Finn."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Raven asked, stepping forward.

Clarke avoided making eye contact with any of you, "That’s their offer."

"That’s not an offer," you snapped. "That’s a death sentence."

"It’s punishment," Finn squeezed your shoulder lightly as he brushed past you. "For what happened at the village. Blood for blood."

—

Murphy walked towards where Finn was standing with a complex look on his face. "Hey, man. Byrne actually gave me a gun. I guess we really are screwed, huh? Look, we kicked their asses last time. We’ll do it again."

Finn looked at him blankly and said, "A lot of people died last time."

You chewed on your bottom lip as Bellamy and Finn continued talking, completely zoning out. Would the grounders really take Finn as a trade? The thought made your stomach turn. Your biggest fear right now was that someone would betray Finn and turn him over.

Hearing Clarke’s voice, you looked up again, to see Finn and Bellamy walking in another direction.

"Hey," Murphy said, stepping forward. "Any orders for me, princess?"

The blonde glared at him, "stay away from me."

You were surprised at the look of hurt on his face. "Just trying to be helpful."

It was obviously by the venom in Clarke’s voice that she blamed Murphy for what happened in the village. "You were with him at the village."

"I tried to stop him."

"Not hard enough!"

"You know, you want to start blaming people, Clarke?" Murphy stepped closer to her. "He wasn’t out there looking for me, was he? It’s not my fault he went batshit crazy."

He was out there looking for you.

You stepped in between them, stopping this before it went any further. "Enough! Both of you. Clarke, go do whatever it is you need to do. Yelling, and arguing isn’t helping anyone."

You watched Clarke walk away before turning to face Murphy, who looked slightly guilty. "What?"

"I…I didn’t mean it was your fault."

You shrugged, pretending his words didn’t strike a nerve. "Whatever, we have more important things to think about. Like how the hell we are going to save Finn."

"He’s a dead man walking," Murphy raised his hands defensively when you raised your brows at him. "What? I’m only pointing out the obvious."

You looked back towards the fence, and slowly walked towards it as the chanting got louder. You felt a lump at the back of your throat, as tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

Murphy stood beside you, "jus drein jus daun, Jus drein jus daun."

"Blood must have blood."

You looked back around to face Abby, and Jaha who were talking to some guards. "You don’t trust them, do you?"

"Do you?"

Murphy scoffed at your comment. Of course he didn’t. Nobody who has been screwed over by them should.

"Well, angel eyes, if we leave it to them, we are definitely screwed."

"Yeah," you agreed. Besides Abby, none of them would care what happened to Finn. "We’re going to need a miracle to happen."

—

"What’s the plan?" You asked, stopping beside Finn.

"The dropship."

Clarke shook her head. "You know that this is the safest place for him right now.”

"It isn't if they're turning on him," Bellmay pointed out. "We can protect him at the dropship until we figure this thing out. Grab your gear and meet at Raven's gate in five minutes. She’s already working on cutting the power to the fence."

Bellmay was right. Going to the dropship would probably be the safest place for him right now. It would also give you time to try and figure something else out.

"Okay," Finn nodded. "But nobody's coming with me."

You frowned, "of course we are. This isn’t up for discussion."

Clarke pressed her lips together. She still didn’t seem convinced that it was a good idea. "We are surrounded by Grounders."

"It will be easier if we split up." Noticing others starting to shout at a Finn you gripped his arm as Bellamy knocked the boy called Gruff out. "We need to go, now."

—

You nervously gripped the gun tightly, praying you didn’t make too much noise as you walked through the forest.

"I know I’ve said it before, but-"

"Shh," you stared at Finn wide-eyed.

He has been mostly silent since you caught up with him, and now wasn’t the time to start talking. You knew by the look on his face that he wasn’t going to let whatever was on his mind go.

"I was scared... when you disappeared. I thought I’d never get the chance to say I’m sorry, and I needed you to know that I love you."

"Finn," you stopped walking and turned to face him. "We have talked about this. None of it matters now, all that matters is getting you through this. We find a way to save you, and then we rescue Monty and Jasper, along with everybody else who the mountain men took." You let out a small laugh, "Who would have thought it would be grounders that saved me from them? "Ironic, huh."

"What were they like, the grounders who took you?" He whispered.

"Eh…good as far as kidnappers go. They gave me clean clothes, food, and water." You let out a sigh, "I was afraid they were going to torture me like they did Murphy."

“You have a soft spot for him."

"No I don’t."

For the first time in a long time, you saw Finn smile, "Oh my God, you have a crush on him."

Him teasing you reminded you what life was like back on the ark before everything went to shit. It made you almost forget when you were in the forest in the first place.

You shoved Finn’s arm playfully, "shut up. I just feel bad for him."

"You do like Bellamy though."

You shot Finn a look, "let’s not."

"He’s a good guy, he’d keep you safe. I’m sure of it."

"And who’s going to keep you safe from me? Because once this is all over, I have no issue raising hell if you don’t stop teasing me, Collins."

"What do we do after the dropship? Where do we go? You think the Grounders will just leave when they find out I'm gone? Is this the best way to help our friends inside Mount Weather? "

You gave him a sympathetic smile, "will figure this out."

The last thing you remember seeing is the horrified look on Finn’s face as a loud yelling came from behind you.

—

You let out a loud groan as you sat up. Looking around, you were confused. The last thing you remember was walking in the forest.

"Y/N," Clarke knelt down beside you. "Take it easy when you sit up. You got knocked out."

Of course you did.

"How’s your head?" Finn asked as he helped you stand up.

"Never been better."

"It will be another neat scar to add to your collection," Murphy shrugged.

You ignored his comment as Finn spoke to you in a hushed voice. "When you went down... I thought you were dead. Because of me."

"Finn," you say softly. "I’m right here."

"I’ve killed so many people."

You shook your head, "things that we've done to survive... they don't define us."

"What if you're wrong? What if this is who we are now?"

Not knowing what to say to comfort Finn, you pulled him in for a hug at the same time that Bellamy rushed into the drop shop. "We got company!"

"Oh fuck. We’re surrounded."

As everyone made their way to the outside of the ship, Bellmay stopped to face you. "I’m glad you're okay. You had me worried for a moment."

"Thanks. But honestly, I’m still worried."

—

"They’re not moving any closer."

"Staying out of range. Probably waiting until it's dark."

Murphy looked up at him, "If we hit them now, at least we'd take them by surprise."

You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but Murphy's idea made sense. You didn’t like it, but he did have a point. "The problem is, we don't even know how many of them are out there."

Murphy rolled his eyes, "I’m not hearing any better ideas, Daisy."

Raven stepped forward. "We’ll give them something."

Bellamy looked at her, confused. "All they want is Finn."

Raven looked away from the rest of the group, as her eyes landed on Murphy. "Finn wasn't the only one at the village."

"You can’t be serious! We aren’t handing anyone over to the grounders."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Raven, I came here to protect him. You were the one who wanted me to come." A hurt expression crossed over Murphy’s face. "You... That’s why you asked me to come along."

The brunette glared at him. "Enough Grounders saw him at the village. They’d believe he was the shooter."

"Sick bitch!" Murphy spat.

Clarke tried to calm her down. "Raven, you don't mean this."

"You know what they do to people?" you said, stepping towards her. "They want Finn, nobody else. We can’t protect him if we are fighting among ourselves.

Raven ignored what you said and pointed her gun towards Murphy. "They want a murderer, we'll give them one."

Hell no.

You shared a knowing look with Finn, before moving to step in front of Murphy. "Raven, this is insane! Put it down."

"Daisy, move out the way, I don’t want to hurt you. Murphy drop your weapon!"

"Raven, stop this before somebody gets hurt!" You yelled back at her. You knew deep down she wouldn’t actually shoot you, but you weren’t so sure about Murphy.

Ravenstill refused to lower her weapon, "I said drop it."

"Stop! Stop!" Finn pushed her hand down so the gun was no longer pointed in your direction. "We're not doing this. They’ve got us surrounded. The only thing we can do is stay. And defend this place. Murphy?"

"Yeah?"

"Go upstairs with Daisy. You two watch the rear. I'll take the lower level. You three, take the front gate. That’s the plan. All right?"

As Murphy walked ahead, you hugged Finn again, saying, "We’ve got this."

"May we meet again."

"We will." You pulled back from him, "I better go make sure nobody else tries to kill him."

"Yeah. Be careful."

—

When you joined Murphy, he glared at you. "Are you insane?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You stepped out in front of me! Raven could have shot you!"

Taken aback by his yelling, you shuffled uncomfortably. "She wasn’t going to-"

Murphy cut you off, "you don’t know that. Don’t ever do something like that for me again. Ever!"

You turned and faced the other direction, to avoid looking at him. Why was he so upset? You were only trying to keep everyone safe.

Hearing yelling, you quickly made your way towards the other side of the ship. "What’s happened?"

Bellamy looked at you with fear in his eyes. "Finn’s handed himself in."

—

You stood on the edge of Camp Jaha by the gates, squinting. Grounders were putting a large post into the ground. "What is that?"

"It’s for Finn," Clarke confirmed. "They want us to watch."

As others talked about what to do next, you noticed Clarke getting ready to leave. "What are you doing?"

"I’m gonna talk to the commander."

"Okay," you stepped beside her. "I’m going with you."

Bellamy stared at you both. "What else do you have to say?"

You sighed. "I don't know, but we need to try."

Raven stepped in front of you. "Give me your hand. If she won't let him go, kill her. Things will go crazy, and we'll grab you and Finn. Daisy, you and Clarke have to help him. I owe him my life."

Before you had a chance to say anything, Raven slipped a small knife into your hand.

—

As you and Clarke walked into the commander's tent, a grounder stepped forward and pressed a spear up against your chest.

Clarke seemed to know who the grounder was. "We are here to talk to your commander. Let us through."

Looking down, you noticed small drops of blood appearing on your top. The grounder has cut you.

"Let them pass," the commander said before looking you up and down. "You bleed for nothing. You cannot stop this."

As Clarke pleaded with Lexa to spare Finn’s life, you noticed Ada standing guard. When she noticed you walking toward her, she frowned. "You are here to beg for the traitor's life?"

"Finn’s my friend. He did an awful thing, something he can’t undo, but torturing him won’t bring anybody else back."

"He killed Zelda."

"I’m sorry…" you whispered. "It’s all my fault. He killed all those people because he thought they had taken me."

"You can’t save him, blood must have blood." Ada said harshly. "If you try to save him, all of your people will die."

Tears spilled onto your cheek. You turned to face the commander, "can I say good-bye?"

The commander paused for a moment before nodding. You were surprised that she was allowing you to talk to him, but you didn’t have time to overthink it. It was probably because of Clarke anyway. You needed to help him. You couldn’t let Finn die by the death of 1000 cuts.

You rushed towards Finn, and kissed him. "I love you, Finn, I never stopped."

"I’m scared."

You wiped tears from his cheek. "You’re gonna be ok. I won’t let you suffer." You kissed him once again, before showing him mercy. "You’re ok."

"Thanks, Daisy."

Stepping back, the only sound you could hear was your own sobs, mixed with Raven's screams, as you stared at Finn’s limp body.

Season two

[memetaped]

star trek: deep space 9 taken from the tv show.

come on, let’s get you home. 

looks like you need a new bandage. 

it’s good to see you got your appetite back.

you’re lucky you only got singed.

i need to know that you’re here, safe. that way, a part of me will always be safe, too.

get your hands off of me, before i do something i’ll regret.

we’ll see each other again soon. that’s a promise.

whatever it is you’ve been through has taken its toll.

that boy’s life is in our hands, and i won’t let anybody give up on him.

there are too many ways to get into serious trouble here.

get some hot chocolate and tell me about it.

you can channel your feelings of aggression in other ways.

this is important. you and i. things change, but not this.

you’re a great boy, you know that?

you have to leave me here and go on by yourself.

but the thing about dreams is, if you talk about them, they kind of go away faster.

now that kid is here under my protection, and i swear, if you do anything to hurt them, i will make you regret it. is that clear?

everyone has to have someone to confide in, someone to hear their stories.

my heart is too big.

the boy’s in a lot of trouble.

everything’s gonna be all right, but you have to try and stay awake for me.

if you were hurt, i’d leave you behind.

hold on, i’m not finished with you.

my dear, you should not be here.

it’s just a nosebleed.

hey, who said anything about being scared?

everyone went out of their way to look after me.

it takes a lot of courage to admit you’re wrong.

you run now, i won’t be able to protect you.

give me that before you hurt yourself.

i don’t need counseling, or relaxation, or time to adjust. i just want to be left alone.

get out.

and i am gonna pray, because i don’t know what else to do.

care for a root beer?

i’ve always loved you. even when i hated you.

before you volunteer too quickly, understand what you’re getting into.

do not hug me.

mom?

i’m not afraid, papa.

you’ve been so kind to me.

i’ve said my piece. sorry for butting in.

you know, why don’t we just call it a day? you obviously have other things on your mind.

i feel sick when i eat. i have pains in my head, in my chest.

you keep moving around, you won’t need any nurse.

i’ve known nothing but violence since i was a child.

what the hell has gotten into your head?

so, now you’re hiding things from me?

i think i could handle some soup.

save your strength

a sharp knife is nothing without a sharp eye.

so, my young friend, what do you think we’re looking at?

confession is good for the soul.

i’m gonna stay here, take care of the wounded. that includes you.

that’s a very personal question.

is this some kind of joke?

look at me. i need to know you’re going to be all right.

hold on, i’m not finished with you.

continually distracted, depressed, and agitated.

you always tighten your brow just a tiny bit whenever you’re about to ask a question.

it’s so small even i can’t stand up in there. look, i’m developing a slouch.

the one good thing about going away is coming home.

you don’t want me hanging around here? fine. i’ll do my thinking someplace else.

i don’t know who’s going to hear this. i don’t even know if i’ll be alive by the time this log is recovered.

we have rights, including the right to be as stubborn or thickheaded as we want.

i know it’s too difficult to speak right now. just rest.

you might say it came to me in a vision.

what are you doing up? you’re supposed to be in bed.

i’ll miss you.

and you’ve got a lot of nerve complaining about being cold when you’re the one wearing the jacket.

the last thing i want is to become a burden to you.

rudeness will get you nowhere.

okay? i’ve forgotten “okay.”

keep your eyes and ears open, follow orders, and try not to get in the way.

it’s not a trick, it’s a choice.

that’s how i think of you. and maybe that’s why sometimes, it’s hard for me to relax around you.

it’s a treatment, not a cure. it’ll prevent hallucinations, take the edge off the depression, but that’s all it’ll do.

you know, that was a very ugly thing you just said.

right now, my head is swimming in bloodwine and i’m going to bed, and so should you.

i’m a little tired. didn’t get much sleep last night.

i appreciate your concern, but i’ll grieve in my own way, in my own time. 

we’ve come to care about what happens to these people.

i know that you’ve been working with the maquis, and right now, i don’t care.

are you some kind of anarchist?

when you take someone’s life, you lose a part of your own as well.

home! i want to go home!

besides, i could never live with myself if something happened to you.

now we either freeze to death or starve to death. take your pick.

isn’t there someone you can talk to? someone you trust?

that’s right. it’s okay. everything’s going to be fine.

take my word for it, you’ll survive.

i don’t know about you, but it’s past my bedtime.

do you want to come color with me?

look, i’m not asking you to like me or to be my friend. i’m asking you to join me, to fight at my side.

sealing the entranceway was a risky thing to do. you nearly brought the whole ceiling down on yourself.

i can’t feel my legs.

“a needle in a haystack” wouldn’t do this job justice.

you ought to get some rest.

don’t deny the violence inside of you. only when you accept it can you move beyond it.

make sure to put your plate in the replicator, sweetie.

you know, it’s attitudes like that that keep you people from getting invited to all the really good parties.

i feel like someone just walked over my grave.

we need to get you to the infirmary.

enough. you’re pushing yourself too hard.

if that’s how you remember it, you must’ve hit your head harder than i thought you did.

you should take a break. you’ve been working nonstop for days.

well, you tried being alone and it hasn’t done any good. so maybe it’s time to stop brooding and start talking.

are you part of my family?

my leg is broken.

i’ve been looking all over for you.

you’re suffering from a severe form of amnesia.

speak up for yourself while you’re here, okay?

things that would send cold chills down your spine and wake you in the middle of the night.

i’m the one who should be struggling to stay conscious. i’m the one who’s in excruciating pain.

not just a bad dream – bad memories.

are you two fighting again?

i don’t want your sympathy and i don’t need your advice!

you stay a while longer if you want to, but you have to promise me, when the time comes and i tell you to go, you’ll do it.

look, i know it’s too late for an apology. but for what it’s worth, i’m sorry.

why don’t you go to your quarters and lie down for a while?

everyone keeps looking at me. they’re afraid of me.

i’d never felt more alone in all my life.

i’m half-frozen. i haven’t eaten for days. my muscles won’t work anymore!

what you experienced was an artificial reality, an interactive program that created memories of things that never actually happened.

what could be more important than dom-jot?

i’m not sleeping. i’m checking my eyelids for holes.

i’ve found that when it comes to doing what’s best for you, you humanoids have the distressing habit of doing the exact opposite.

you’re going to give yourself indigestion.

speaking of pain, this is probably going to hurt.

i never thought i would say this to you, but you are listening to your heart, not your head.

would you please go on vacation and get out of our hair?

you should take things easy for a while. 

i wish there was something i could do. some way i could promise you that everything is going to be okay.

i’ve done some things i’m not proud of. 

i want to stay with you.

my weakness is i’m too generous, too forgiving.

oh, this is one stubborn infection. how long have you had it?

just to “speak up for myself”, i’m feeling a little betrayed here.

the best way to survive a knife fight is to never get in one.

you can annoy me, bait me, question my very existence. but in the end, we both know i’ve won.

i haven’t seen one of these since i was a kid.

it’s a good weapon – solid, simple. you can drag it through the mud and it’ll still fire.

i’m sorry, i hope i haven’t offended anyone.

little children do that.

you know, eventually, you’re going to have to stop talking and deal with this.

if you come with me, you can be a soldier again.

i still wish you’d given me a little more warning.

you can’t expect me to cure it overnight.

i used to dream about you coming to save me. that’s what kept me alive.

you’ve never had those feelings. you don’t know what it means to really care about another person.

let me put it another way. i don’t want to play cards, and even if i did, i wouldn’t want to play with you.

what’s next? do you want to apologize to me? express your sympathy?

i think you went to your quarters last night and you tossed and turned in bed, because you knew some of the things you said to me concerned me.

you’ve got all the emotions of a stone. no offense.

because i have the bad habit of telling the truth even when people don’t want to hear it.

i’m always suspicious of people who are eager to help a police officer.

for as long as i can remember, i have always been an outsider.

you were wounded. try not to move around.

terrorists don’t get to be heroes.

i’ve never needed a friend more than i do right now.

i cried for you. i missed you so much.

we need to stop the bleeding. we better get you up to the ship.

i’m not afraid of you.

for the moment, why don’t you relax? try not to be so tense, take it easy.

we don’t belong in this time. we’re from the future.

you federation types are all alike. you talk about tolerance and understanding, but you only practice it towards people who remind you of yourselves.

now, i think we should concentrate on getting you comfortable with this weapon.

out there, there are no saints, just people – angry, scared, determined people who are going to do whatever it takes to survive, whether it meets with the federation’s approval or not.

yeah, i just banged my head on something.

it’s life. you can miss it if you don’t open your eyes.

i should have known you’d develop feelings for these people you’ve been living with for the past few years.

there’s nothing you can do. um, i just need some time.

i’ll teach you. it’s a very simple game.

you don’t deserve it. nobody does.

and you want to know why you don’t scare me? because i’m already more scared than i’ve ever been in my life.

oh, please. i’m suffering enough without having to listen to your smug federation sympathy.

i know what it’s like to worry about a child.

last night, it sounded like a takaran wildebeest was tromping around up there.

do you remember my face? even a little?

between you and me, those people have every right to defend themselves.

there’s a time for levity, my young friend, and a time for genuine concern.

why? why do you care so much?

i have to save you from yourself.

just because a group of people belong to the federation, that does not mean that they are saints.

life is yours for the taking. all you have to do is reach out and grab it.

no one on this station is better than anyone else. we’re all equal.

that’s why i came to you, because i knew you’d protect me. you will protect me, won’t you?

just because we don’t understand a life-form, doesn’t mean we can destroy it.

oh, we’re all very good at conjuring up enough fear to justify whatever we want to do.

it’s an expression of affection that you find difficult to accept.

look, i just don’t want anything to happen to you.

as your friend, i have to tell you i’m worried about you.

have i ever told you how much i hate that smug, superior attitude of yours?

and as for bedside manner, i’ve known nicer voles.

you’re the terrorist. you tell me.

i repaid kindness with blood. i was no better than an animal.

you don’t know what it means to care about someone, do you?

i’ll try to keep my problems more quiet next time. 

are you sure you’re all right?

oh, i slept like an alvanian cave sloth.

just watch your back. you’re in danger.

the thing i don’t understand is why you pretended to be my friend.

i have to say goodbye to you.

[drarrywords]

With you, anywhere, everywhere

It was raining that day too, in a way, flakes of snow drifting down slowly. The world was white – peace and innocence. He held out his hand for the snowflakes that settled like frosted kisses on his palm. He closed his eyes, and his lips curved into a smile.

“Are you ready?” Remus asked, his smile soft. He swallowed, and gave him a nod. The man chuckled, and gave the slightest shake to his head. “Nervous, are you?”

“I – Yes, I’m nervous.”

“I was nervous as well,” Remus said, with a smirk. “On the day I got married to Sirius.”

He scoffed. “You weren’t nervous.”

“I was,” Remus said with a small laugh, a small, sort of fond quirk of his mouth while he carded his fingers through his hair. “But you’re doing considerably well, I had a panic attack five minutes before walking down the aisle.”

“I’m not,” Draco said, dropping his face into his palms. “We aren’t rushing into this, are we? I want to marry him, but I’m so nervous and I should’ve chosen the other suit –

“Draco,” he said calmly, with a hint of amusement. “Walk down aisle, and your worries will fade away, I assure you.”

He swallowed, cleared his throat, a familiar panic rising within him once more at the prospect, “I – fine, sure.”

The interior of the atrium was done up in white and light blue, glittering icicles hanging from the walls, and the room was warm. They began to walk down the aisle, as he drew his gaze up from the dark green carpet swirling with silver, to meet the faces of their guests.

Yet, he was nervous. Even now. No, he couldn’t focus on the guests. His gaze turned to the makeshift altar, glancing briefly at Ron wearing a pitch-black suit. And there he was – Harry, in a white suit, contrasting beautifully with his tan skin, hair as messy as the day they first met, glasses the same wireframes he'd always had. The man he loved.

And his worries faded away. Remus nudged him softly, muttering a soft: “I told you so.”

“Hey, gorgeous.” He said at the altar, as they laced their fingers together. Their eyes with glistening with tears, and he knew that one of them was going to cry.

Draco was wearing a white suit with light blue accents, a deep plum calla lily sticking out of his lapel pocket. Harry sporting a classic white lily, his suit accented in green.

A dreamy voice broke through, considerably calm, “We are gathered today to commemorate a beautiful moment in the lives of these two men.”

Luna's blond hair fell to her waist in golden spindles, her radiant yellow dress circling her in various frills, smiling suns hanging from her ears.

Her cheeks were flushed, blue eyes bright, as she held out her hands. “In the brumal cold of December, they’re going to get married. We’ve watched their love grow, and the animosity fade.”

They smirked at each other, as Draco mouthed: “Scared, Potter?”

Harry chuckled, and gave a slight shake to his head before he muttered, “You wish.”

Luna fixed her gaze on Ginny, as she said. “Love sustains you, and to marry the person you love, is a commitment. A commitment to be with each other, and a way of saying that you’ll always be there,” A beat, “Now, the vows.”

Draco commenced crying, as he began reciting his vows. “Harry, I’ve always been drawn to you. I would’ve never expected myself to fall in love with you. I didn’t see that coming. But I’ve learnt to expect the unexpected with you.”

He paused briefly, gaining his composure. “You captivate me in ways, no other soul ever will. You, Harry James Potter, are everything my heart dreams of.”

Draco was crying, a lot freely than he wanted to. Harry reached out, and wiped a tear with his thumb and gave him a soft smile.

“I would’ve never imagined that you would love me, and that was a gift beyond fantasy that I could dare to think. It’s always been a fantasy of mine, to be your husband. Your partner. And I know this, Harry – I love you, and I’ll love you until I take my last breath.”

Draco fumbled with the gold band for a moment before managing to slide it on the trembling finger and chuckled as Harry stared at it. He blinked, and peered into the grey eyes. It was engraved with the familiar words: Même les constellations ne peuvent pas comprendre mon amour pour vous.

Even the constellations can't fathom my love for you.

“I’ve never had a normal life. It has always taken an unexpected turn. And on that night, near the black lake, you saw the scars that I didn’t want anyone to.”

His gaze flickered to the faint scar on the back of his hand: I must not tell lies. Draco ran his thumb over the scar absent-mindedly. “It was instinctive, the way I fell in love with you. It was like an effortless intake of breath. You have bewitched me, Draco Malfoy – heart and soul.”

“And I don’t care about the obstacles ahead, because with you – I know I can achieve infinities. You are my destiny. You are my forever. You are the magic, Draco Malfoy.”

He slipped the gold ring into Draco’s trembling finger, engraved with: Mon cœur t’appartiendra toujours.

My heart will always belong to you.

“It is my honor,” Luna said, in a soft voice. “To pronounce you one.”

Draco inched closer, as he drew him into a kiss. It was slow and sweet and lingering, taking their time to taste and savour the other's lips. “The show’s over, mate!” Ron said with a soft laugh, “Besides, I’m starving.”

“Yeah. Go, Ron. Lead the way.” Draco said, with a satisfied smirk. The snow had begun to fall again, languidly landing on them, and vanishing into the air. “We’ll be right behind you.”

“You can’t ask us to start without you –

“I can,” Draco said, waving his hand dismissively at him. “Go on, we’ll join you.”

“Come on, you lot.” Sirius announced. "Give them a moment, they just got married!"

Ron gave him an eye-roll for good measure, before leading the others outside. The real snowfall outside was visible through the glass ceiling. They had been through so much together. The horcrux hunting, the war and the healing. He would’ve never imagined that they would’ve made it so far.

“Hey,” Harry said, with a confused frown. “We’re not going outside?”

“No,” Draco said, brushing his thumb across the oh-so familiar cheekbone. “Because I want to dance with my husband.”

“We’re supposed to dance after the –

“Harry,” Draco cut in, shaking his head in disbelief. “Dance with me, will you?”

He closed his eyes, as a soft music drifted in the air. He nodded, as Draco laced their fingers together and twirled him. His emerald eyes glistened, and a smile spread across his beautiful face. “You know how to be romantic.”

“I know,” Draco chuckled, as they glided effortlessly around the floor in the music, their actions were smooth and confident. Harry’s messy black fringe fell across his scar, and Draco brushed it away.

“I was nervous, you know?” Harry whispered, brushing their lips together. The warmth and tenderness coursed through his body, and he gave the blond a soft smile. “But when you walked down the aisle –

“Your worries faded, and you knew that you wanted to marry me more than anything in the world.”

Harry’s mouth was caught open in a small ‘o’.

“Yes, you wanker.” Draco chuckled, twirling him around and drew him close. “I was nervous, but I saw you. And I knew that I wanted the privilege to call you my husband.”

He could vaguely hear the noise outside. It was almost distant. He was focused on Harry, and dancing with him. His husband.

“Do you remember the dance we had in remembrance ball, eighth year?”

“Yeah,” Draco laughed, recalling the events of the party. “I believe that you asked me to marry you, because I was insanely gorgeous in that suit.”

“Or that you told me that I changed you, and your life. And granted, that you couldn’t feel your fucking toes – You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I would never have it any other way, love.”

As the music slowed down, Harry dipped him to the floor and leaned down, brushing his lips gently over his. Draco snaked his arms around his neck, melting into the kiss but also deepening it as he drew Harry’s face closer to his own. “I love you, you enormously stubborn pain in the arse.”

“I love you, you absolute wanker.” Harry whispered against his mouth, and pressed their foreheads together. He was slightly breathless at the way Draco held him close. “Have a destination in mind, do you? We’re supposed to go somewhere.”

“Yes,” he said, chuckling softly. “We’re going to India. I hear that it’s beautiful, and I’ve always wanted to go with you.”

“Knowing you, we’re probably staying at the Taj in Mumbai.”

“You know me well, Mr. Potter-Malfoy.” Draco said, placing a kiss against his forehead. “One month in India – Just us. I’ve told the others that we’re going to Rome.”

“They aren’t going to disrupt our vacation, Draco.”

“I’m not taking any chances,” he said, halting as the music died down. “It’s our first vacation as husbands, and I want it to be absolutely perfect. Two days in Mumbai, and then we'll go to the northeast - To the beautiful seven sisters and it will be perfect.”

“With you,” Harry whispered, kissing him deeply. “It’s always going to be perfect. And I’ll go with you – anywhere, everywhere.”

I'm tagging a few people for a boost, you can ignore this if you like<3 @textrovert-01 @sorry-i-ship-drarry @dearly-devoted-dawdler @krystalliumm @missdrarrydawn @nv-md @nousheen @notdeadpoetsociety