#it felt like this dark spring mood but now it’s just snowing again

[yhwhsdaughter]

“Meet or part, live or die,

We’ve made oath, you and I.

Give me your hand I’ll hold,

And live with me till old!”

picture

Lan Xichen x F! Reader (18+)

Lan Xichen lost his beloved during winter. In his solace, his heart felt colder without her warmth.. his [Name]. The eldest Lan brother yearned to the point he fell ill. Wanji and Wei Ying found him in the cold, watching the snow fall.

One cup of Emperor’s Smile was enough for Lan Xichen to become drunk. Wanji had to pry the jar from him; “She will return.” [Name] was the best healer Gusu Lan had seen yet and her abilities were needed due a plague caused by a flood. Despite knowing she was an accomplished cultivator, he could not help but worry.

Alcohol always put Xichen in a joyous mood. Members of the Gusu Lan witnessed their leader’s flushed cheeks and excited smile turn wider the moment a familiar figure appeared. Her arrival signaled the beginning of spring, flowers now blooming where snow fell. [Name] stumbled slightly with the unexpected weight of Lan Xichen’s body. Lan Wanji moved to help but she made a motion with her hand, placing her arm around Xichen’s waist. “It’s quite a sight to see you like this” she murmured, maneuvering them towards his house. “You’re a sight…!!!” [Name] was a bit surprised, her eyes widening. “Is that so?”

 “Mm.. so pretty..”

With some effort, she slid the door open. “My eyes are always drawn to you..” It was a bit difficult to focus on a task when Xichen’s dark and gentle eyes followed her every movement. “Ah.. Xichen could you not..—!” Her footing stumbled, tripping the two of them just at the edge of his bed. Xichen was quick to swivel their positions so that he would take the brunt of the fall.

“Shh.. shh.. it's alright.”

Xichen’s arms secured themselves around her sides, his breath ghosting her lips. [Name] could smell faintly the richness of the wine. “You're the only one for me..” he didn’t want anyone if it wasn’t her. Not knowing how to answer his drunken confession, she ushered him to bed, “Xichen, go to sleep.. you’re drunk.”

“Mmm.. alright.” Still, he could not. His eyes wandered down, and his mind focused on [Name]’s lips. They were pink, like the flowers outside. Could he taste the nectar of said lips? “..Do you want... to kiss?” He whispered, eyes gazing up at [Name] from underneath his long lashes, cheeks growing even rosier.

“You’re drunk.. I can’t kiss you right now.” Lan Xichen blinked, “Oh.. right.. I.. I forgot” he muttered, rubbing his temples with his fingers. [Name] felt his hand reaching back, holding her nape gently as his head dipped subtly, their foreheads touching. “Kiss later..?”

[Name] blushed under the gaze of his thick lashes. He was too pretty. “If.. you remember, then.. yes..” Lan Xichen’s heart swelled and his body grew warmer at the notion of her acceptance, his ears deaf to all but her ‘yes’. He closed the distance between them, in an gentle yet eager manner. His body pressed closer to hers. “Mmph!” Lan Xichen’s other hand settled on her cheek, cupping it softly. His tongue grazed her mouth and his fingers touched her headband before [Name] pulled away hastily, one of her hands flying to her lips, “X-Xichen.. I meant once you were sober..!”

Embarrassment seeped down to his bones, stammering apologies, “.. I'm... I'm sorry, I..” Despite this, the longing look in his eyes betrayed that he would have done it again in a heartbeat.

The newness of this feeling unsettled the female cultivator, making her wonder if she was drunk as well. “Rest for now. I will see you in the morning.” “Yes, yes.” Lan Xichen murmured, his face a crimson red. He stood up, but instead of leaving, his steps faltered and he collapsed back onto the bed, his eyelids fluttering shut. He was already half asleep. The first time he ever got drunk, he had to do it in front of the love of his life. Such mortifying luck.

[Name] stared at Lan Xichen’s sleeping form, how beautiful he looked even in a messed state. Brushing away some of his long hair from his face, she tucked him in.

The morning sun and chirping birds alerted Lan Xichen that he had woken late. Everyone was up at 5 in the morning, though that was the last thought in his mind when he opened his eyes. His head throbbed like thunder, and he instantly felt the nausea setting in. Xichen’s body was sluggish as he turned his head to try to avoid some of the light that was entering through. He winced in pain, his face pale in his misery. Oh no, he was going to...

“Uwah!” Lan Xichen cried, and he threw himself off the bed to rush towards a bucket at the very least.

Albeit they’d already broken rules last night, merely by being alone together, [Name] still decided to go in and wake up their leader. Also because Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian kept ushering her towards Xichen’s quarters. She had a feeling they knew something.

“Zewu-Jun..?” She waited patiently outside, announcing her presence first. When she heard distressing sounds, [Name] peeked inside. “Xichen are you alright?”

“I...” Lan Xichen panted, face flushed as he hovered over a bucket, dry-heaving into it. “... I'm dying...”

It was so embarrassing he truly felt death was a better option. The headache, dizziness, and nausea all welling up in his body only made things worse. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, and he looked pathetic. It was not a pretty picture. Lan Xichen was an absolute mess. Closing the door, [Name] rushed to him, her feet making soft noises. Kneeling down beside Xichen, the first thing she did was hold his hair, gingerly moving it away from his face. Her palm hesitantly settled on his back, rubbing comfortingly in circular motions. “I... I feel so sick...” Lan Xichen muttered, his eyes closing. He was trying his best not to vomit, but it was so difficult...

He was ashamed to let [Name] see him like this; she was so gentle though, and her touch was so soft, that it was hard not to relax in her presence. Lan Xichen did not want her to see him when he was at his worst, but he was also glad that she was here. He couldn't possibly bear this alone..

[Name] finally spoke, “Why did you end up drinking so much? Especially with your tolerance..” she chided gently. Lan Xichen panted, his stomach turning at the memory that haunted him. How embarrassing…

“...”Lan Xichen stared at the ground, feeling tears in his eyes. She was stunned by this sight, wondering what could’ve possibly made their leader this depressed. “I was thinking of you..” He admitted, his voice breaking a bit, the floodgates threatening to burst. If they opened now, it’d be hard to close them again. “I missed you.. so much..”

“Miss me..?”

Lan Xichen nodded. He couldn't even look up, because tears were falling from his eyes now, wetting his long, dark lashes. His voice was quiet, but the pain was evident, and he couldn't stop himself now. “Being away from you is the worst thing I can endure...” [Name]’s sleeve was grasped by his fingers as if Lan Xichen couldn’t dare touch her.

He didn't mean to be so emotional like this, but when the liquor loosened his tongue, there was no stopping it. “I don't know how to live without you..”There was a pang in her chest at those words. How could their honorable Zewu-Jun says that seriously.. as if her existence was vital to his??

[Name] watched as tears fell down his pale cheeks, automatically reaching to wipe them. “I’m right here..?” Her confused reply broke his heart, silently pleading that she understand the meaning behind them. How torturous it was for him that she wasn’t near. His throat tightened, “It's not the same.”There was this urge to embrace her, to feel that softness of her body, assuring she wasn’t a visage of his longing thoughts. Instead, he reached out a shaky hand, his eyes wet and desperate. “Please... don't leave me again..”

One of his hands intertwined with hers. “I feel so lost without you..” It was a gamble to admit how dependent Xichen was on [Name]. He feared that they’d be like his parents—his father who fell deeply in love with his mother even when she did not return those feelings. Would his beloved spurn him too? Would Xichen live the rest of his days cursed to love a woman who did not love him back? It hurt, it ached so much. He would die for her, if only to end this pain.

“Is that why you kissed me yesterday..?” Lan Xichen nearly choked, not expecting to be questioned about his actions so openly. He swallowed the embarrassment, his fair skin hot. “Yes...” He admitted, his heart racing so fast that he could barely breathe. “I couldn't stop myself...” Unconsciously, Xichen leaned closer, getting quieter until he was practically muttering into [Name]’s ear. “You're all I can think about..” Both of their cheeks turned red, their bashfulness manifested into their skin. Xichen closed his eyes, that nauseous feeling returning, his stomach churning—waiting for the cold knife of rejection. “I.. I'm sorry...” He whispered, and he looked even more pale. If [Name] didn't care for him, then Xichen could not live. Tenderly, her hand pushed some of his hair back. “Perhaps let’s have you take a bath and we can talk afterwards, mn?” She left his side, working quickly to fill his bamboo tub with water. His eyes followed her as she left the room, and his heartbeat grew even more frantic.

“I.. will wait for you outside.” [Name] was swift in exiting, waiting outside his house to give Xichen privacy. She got into lotus position, mediating to calm her racing heart. Was this true? Could their leader, the eldest of the Twin Jades of Lan, have intimate feelings for her..?

Lan Xichen sat in the bath, letting the warm water soothe away his aches and pains. There was a tinge of anxiety that [Name] would flee after he acted a fool in front of her last night and even kissed her, she’d still comforted him.

Stepping out of the bath, dressed in nothing but a cotton robe, Xichen overheard voices coming from outside. “Please senior, we need you!” [Name] looked into the pleading eyes of her junior and could not refuse. “…Alright. I will be there in a moment.” A sigh escaped her mouth; a few seconds passing before she spoke loud enough for Lan Xichen to hear her on the other side. “Xichen, are you there?” He stood in front of the door, hand resting on it. His fingers twitched, contemplating if he should open it and come face to face with [Name]. “It seems I am needed elsewhere. This junior needs my help. Is it possible for us to talk later?”

Xichen rested his forehead on the door. He felt sick again. Though the Gusu Lan leader tried his best to act normal, and pretend that nothing was bothering him, he was internally panicking and about to cry from discomfort. He couldn’t burden her with these feelings, so he bottled them up deep inside his glass heart. “Yes..” Finally, he slid the door aside, momentarily forgetting he was barely covered by the robe’s thin fabric.[Name]’s eyes briefly wandered down before she quickly composed herself. "Of.. Of course.." Xichen forced out with a smile, trying to sound as normal as he could. "It won't be a problem.."

The day was grueling for both. [Name] had yet to record her experiences that occurred during her mission and travel, on top of helping her juniors whilst Xichen focused on his duties, which he’d neglected a bit. Before they knew it, all of the disciples were getting ready for bed. [Name]’s feet moved softly towards Xichen’s quarters. She hoped he wasn’t cross; after all, she was still unsure how to approach the topic of romance. “Xichen, are you awake?”

He had been watching the door intently. Truthfully, he would have waited for her all night. His heart raced with anticipation, “I'm still here..” He replied softly, his voice barely above a breath. “Come in.” Xichen was lying on his bed, his face hot with emotions. He yearned for her presence with him.

“I apologize. It took a long time to return.” [Name] seemed exhausted and yet, she stood in his room. “I would wait an eternity for you..” After being left alone with his thoughts, Lan Xichen cared little for this shameless behavior. He felt a strong need to touch her.

Before she could respond, he quipped, “You seem tired. Are you alright?” “Ah.. I’m fine. The juniors were eager to learn some techniques and it tired me a little.” Her lips molded into a gentle smile; [Name] was always fond of her juniors since they reminded her of more tender times. “...I see.” Lan Xichen replied, trying to keep his response calm and collected. It made him a little jealous to see how someone else could bring a smile to her face. Especially the way [Name] was easily moved by that junior’s pleas. Xichen wondered if he begged too, would she respond in the same manner? The next few words slipped out even as he tried to bite them back, but he was just so desperate to know. “By any chance... did you find him attractive..?” Her brows furrowed in thought, “Who?”

“This junior that was so effectively able to move your heart into aiding him when you’d already promised to speak with me.” Lan Xichen wanted to cover his mouth. He knew that his jealousy was childish, but he couldn't help the way he felt, no matter how hard he tried.

Finally understanding his worries, [Name] bit her lip. Part of her wanted to tease Xichen, as this was so unlike him but she also didn’t want to accidentally hurt him with her words. “My junior is handsome… but he is not the one that caught my eye.” At this, Xichen’s fingers twitched. His felt anxious as to who was the fortunate individual to capture his beloved’s interest. “There is only one person who is most beautiful to me.”

Blood thundered in his ears, his heart about to beat out of his chest. "And... who might that be..?" He quietly replied, his voice trembling with anticipation. Xichen held onto the tiniest string of hope, almost resigned and prepared for the worst. He held his breath, waiting for [Name]’s lips to utter a name that would either destroy or save him. Her answer would dictate the rest of his life.

“Lan Huan is most beautiful, of course.”

His hands shook from excitement, and he felt himself grow dizzy from the rush of emotions... but all he could do was let out a soft sigh, his breathing still shallow from relief. This was more than he knew how to handle. “Are you alright..?”

“I...” Lan Xichen felt the urge to pull her close and never let go. “I love you...” He uttered with conviction. [Name] smiled, accepting his feelings and the internal turmoil that had now settled. Grabbing his hand, she rested her cheek on it before planting a tender kiss on his wrist. For this first time since he saw her again, Lan Xichen felt calm. His fingers stroked her soft skin. [Name] blushed under his lovestruck gaze. Never did she imagine the beloved Xichen, whom everyone admired and fawned over, would look at her in this way. Was this real? As if to test this newfound knowledge, she removed her cheek from his caress, which he’d been happy doing. “May I touch you..?”

Lan Xichen's face turned red but he nodded. “Of course...” He would never refuse her anything. [Name] could have asked him to fall on his own sword and he would have obeyed without a single reproach. Having his consent, [Name]’s hand slipped inside his robe, running her fingers over his smooth and pale skin. Xichen couldn't stop himself from gasping. This.. felt good. It was easy to get overwhelmed with such an intimate experience. Xichen’s breath caught in his throat, rendered weak against her touch. Although her hand beneath his robes was gentle, it was like a trail of fire especially when…

[Name] ran a thumb over a pink bud, pausing when Xichen jumped a little. “Is this too much..? Shall I stop?”

“Y-No...” Lan Xichen replied, his voice barely above a breath. He sounded like he was ready to melt, his body trembling and aching with love and lust. Although, [Name]’s touch was more addictive than anything in the world. He couldn't get enough of her. He didn't want her to stop, and he would let her do anything she wanted to him. He wanted more..

Obliging, [Name] was quick to undo his robe, letting the material fall off his shoulders. She marbled at his strong physique and smoothness of his pale skin. “Someone as perfect as you..” her hand cupped his cheek, leaning in for a kiss. Xichen’s eyes widened after the initial surprise, before closing them and kissing back. His hold was gentle yet firm, holding onto the back of her head, keeping her there as his tongue made a soft intrusion. “Mmn..” when they pulled away, a thin string of saliva connected their mouths.

Xichen’s hands worked swiftly, pulling at her clothes till she was bare. “Mine.” He squeezed one of her breasts, his mouth taking the other. “A-aah..!” Their bodies collided with desire; soon enough, Xichen parted her legs, “Xichen wait.. nghh.. not there..” It was all new, to touch another this intimately. The former had accidentally found his brother’s stash of ero books, flipping through them in intrigue. “I can’t wait to try all kinds of things with you.” His hand found hers, their fingers intertwining. [Name] swallowed, nodding as she watched Lan Xichen with half-lidded eyes. “Hnghh!” Her hands clutched the sheets tightly, butterflies flying inside her stomach. “It’s.. I’m close..”

Xichen’s fingers soothed the supple skin of her thighs, pulling back with his lips and chin collated in her essence. How undignified and yet..

[Name] pulled him up for a kiss, her tongue trailing upwards as she cleaned his lips. Xichen smiled fondly. His beloved’s embrace was heaven to him. The devotion in his soul, cemented as she returned his affection. Lan Xichen would follow [Name] to the ends of the earth for a mere touch from her, and he would do anything, surrender his everything, for just one more night like this with her.

Lowering his pants to free his hard member, Xichen secured a hold on [Name]’s waist as she looked at him with desire. She wanted this as much as he did. “I will go slow.” Despite his warning, a loud moan threatened to escape her rosy lips which Xichen silenced with his own mouth. Their bodies united and even though he was careful not to overwhelm her with his movements, Xichen panted heavily. It wasn’t enough. “More, more.” His hips met her pelvis roughly, “X-Xichen..!” This only served to excite him, his mouth latching itself onto her neck, “Yes, call for me, beloved.” The Gusu Lan leader’s heart swelled with love.

[Name] gasped as Xichen maneuvered her body with ease, placing one of her legs over his shoulder, the distance between them closing. It’s like he was desperate to become one. His throbbing penis pressed into her in a manner that had [Name] ascending. “Lan Huan.. I’m about to..” He smiled. “Me too.” His forehead was covered in a thin veil of sweat, and his ears a bit red. With one last powerful thrust, Lan Xichen embraced [Name] tightly as if he never wanted to let go. “Become my wife..”

“Yes.. yes..” she clung to his strong shoulders, a bit breathless from the orgasm. “I want to be your wife.” Xichen was ecstatic, kissing her again. [Name] groaned softly as he pulled away momentarily, his seed trickling from her hole down her thighs. Shifting onto her stomach, [Name]’s hips were raised by Xichen, “Then let’s make love like spouses.”

Sensitive from their previous release, her moan was loud. “Ahhhh!” Xichen had the gall to smile sweetly, not stopping—instead, he leaned over, one hand grasping her breast as he pounded deeply into her. “Huan-gege.. nghh!!” The sweet sobriquet sent him over the edge. That night, neither slept; [Name]’s body was stretched to its limit, her skin and womb painted with Xichen’s cum.

“Wife..”

Strong and gentle arms wrapped themselves around her form. [Name] had learned over time what this honeyed murmur meant. That’s how their first child was conceived. “Huan-ge..”

Her soft please were music to his ears, and made Xichen want to kiss her again, again, and again. He could not stop himself from lifting her robes, his member already hard against her ass. Lan Xichen was drunk with passion, his mind and body full of his beloved, and it almost felt like he would pass out from how intense his feelings were for her right now. He slid in easily; [Name]’s body recognized him now, after their daily love making, it was only natural.

Pressed against the wall, [Name] could only whine as her husband penetrated her cunt over and over. Xichen caressed the plumpness of her skin, his fingers putting pressure. His body was shaking and his breath shallow, but Lan Xichen could not stop. “[Name]..”

Shivers of pleasure racked her body as Xichen released. “Its filling me..” [Name] rested her forehead on the wall, her legs trembling with exhaustion. Lan Xichen wasn’t done though, pulling her above him as they settled down on the floor. He was supposed to be doing reports—instead, he was balls deep into his lovely wife. “Lan Huan.. aah..” his hands gripped her hips tightly, unwilling to part. “Are you trying to get me pregnant again..” Xichen blushed at [Name]’s words, his face turning crimson. He mumbled, his voice sounding a bit guilty, "I can't.. help it-!" It was as if a flood of desire had been unleashed in him, like an unstoppable wave, and he was drowning in a sweet and blissful pleasure that was almost too much to bear.. He wanted more, his body was aching for it, and he was afraid that he may never be able to stop once he started again.

“Alright… do with me as you wish.”

[nopeferatu]

Click for some...spicey spice 🤪

"Christ—fuck, oh God, Ennis—" Jack panted and squirmed within Ennis' arms, rocking back as best as he could to meet the fervent thrusts behind him. Ennis ran a hand along Jack's chest, down to his soft belly before reaching his muscled thigh to pull it farther where it hooked over Ennis' hip, spreading him wider. Finally, he reached for his dripping cock, hand and hips working in tandem to stroke Jack both inside and out.

Soon, Jack tensed, and Ennis heard the familiar intake of breath that let him know Jack was on the edge. "C'mon now, darlin'," he breathed, nipping at his ear, and with one, two, three more pumps, Jack gasped, spilling himself sticky-wet onto Ennis' knuckles and trembling in his arms. Ennis lengthened his strokes, chasing his own release and burying himself deep inside of Jack, nuzzling his face in the back of his neck to stifle his groan.

The two laid spooned together for a bit, Ennis softening inside him as they rode their highs and caught their breaths. Jack felt Ennis' fingertips trail along his flank, felt soft kisses pressed into the nape of his neck before stretching a long, luxurious stretch in the circle of Ennis' arms and settling back down onto the bed.

The bed. Now wasn't that just something. Though this thing between them had led them through snow-capped foothills and past still corries, riding along jagged crags that sliced through cool spring air, and had seen them rolling around on fragrant summer beds of columbine before the autumn-chilled freshwater streams sluiced over them when they were done; though it'd had them traipsing all over Wyoming's natural wonders, a simple bed sitting in a room with four solid walls was territory their thing had not charted. Not since they were four years worth of desperate to consummate their friendship once more in the dingy Motel Siesta room.

Probably would never have charted again, neither, had an old foreman Ennis used to work for not had an out of use cabin to spare that harsh winter, and had there not been a long string of disappointments that Ennis needed to make up for.

Jack finally felt Ennis ease out of him. Remembering to send up a little prayer of thanks for the generosity of Don Wroe, he turned to face him, leaning in for a kiss.

"Mornin', darlin'," Ennis murmured after pulling away.

Jack smiled. He knew the sparsely used pet name to be part of his taciturn cowboy's quiet form of pillow talk, something he was always delighted to revel in when given the chance. The fact that he got to hear it twice that morning alone meant Ennis was deep in his tender feelings, mirroring his own mood.

"'s too early to be mornin'," he yawned, his long fan of lashes fluttering shut once more.

It was just about closing in on 5. The sun had not yet made its steady ascent from the east across the dark December sky, and here they were rolling around in bed—a cardinal sin in Ennis' line of work, which demanded him bright eyed and bushy tailed by 4 a.m., but a lifestyle that Jack had long grown unaccustomed to. It was something he'd all but left behind when he set out from his parents' ranch in Lightning Flat at just twenty years of age.

Hell, Jack wouldn't have even been awake at all had it not been for Ennis and his damn internal clock. Jack had felt him shuffle off the bed to go take a leak and mess with the wood-burning stove around 4 before settling back against his warm body, unintentionally pressing his cock into the small of his back. Like every good country boy brought up under a proud mama, Jack was raised to never look a gift horse in the mouth. As soon as Jack felt his length rub against him he stirred from his feigned slumber, grabbed at Ennis and, still slick and loose from their last coupling only a few hours before, eagerly fitted him inside for another go-around.

If he hadn't been tired before, he was definitely exhausted by then.

Jack heard Ennis' amused hum and felt the weight on the bed shift. Opening his eyes, he put a quick hand on his shoulder to stop him from getting up.

"Ain't got no horses to tend to," Jack started with a gentle tug, "jus'... stay here a lil' longer," he said, his blue eyes tired but imploring.

Ennis conceded, settling back down besides Jack before lifting a hand to run his fingers through his thick, dark locks. For a moment the two just laid together face to face, eyes locked and nothing but the sound of crackling fire, even breathing and fingers gently combing through hair disturbing the peaceful morning quiet that had settled upon the room.

As with the pet name, Jack usually savored the moments he was able to drown himself in the whiskey rivers that flowed in Ennis' dark eyes. After all, his shy cowboy was not so good at making nor maintaining eye contact—not even with Jack, despite all they'd shared throughout their years together. However, the combination of being up at such an early hour, the warmth of the rekindled fire, the five-alarm sex, and the tender hand stroking his hair proved a potent mix that made it hard to keep his heavy eyes open.

Jack felt Ennis shift closer before the hand at the back of his head tugged him in for another kiss. The sweet press of lips was as passionate a declaration as their love making had been, with no heat behind it to stoke up another round. Jack didn't mind, though; there was still nearly a whole week's worth of time for that, yet. Right then, he was just too tired to do much of anything but drift.

The last thing Jack remembered was nicked fingers caressing his scalp and warm puffs of breath feathering across his nose as the quiet hum of an old lullaby, same as the one he'd heard in the memory kept closest to his heart, drew him back into deep and sated slumber.

[epsilontauri]

the more i do what i want, the more i love myself. for example, i tried to change the sheets but rearranged my room instead. or like...cut all of my hair off. i’m still amazed that i not only can pull it off, but i pull it off so well. lot’s of people told me i would look ugly with short hair, making me believe so, but the urge to present less feminine and getting rid of my hair proved to be the best thing i could have ever done.

so i’m just gonna continue to be myself and do the things that make me happy.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 5

Summary: A very special dinner brings a very special moment for the Darkling and his wife.

Warnings: angst, sexual innuendoes, swearing, bit of fluff

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four  

=================================

She felt caught in the riptide, finding it hard to stay upright. As the daughter of a general, Y/N had seen so many evils, so much hurt, yet she never buckled under pressure.

Staring at the empty spot beside her, she laid there while battling shadows in her head. So filled with rage, she wondered who she’s becoming as a part of her longed to feel his touch. Perhaps he was right, she’s a foolish girl who is trying to win a game where the rules are nonexistent.

Having stayed awake most of the previous night, she didn’t expect trouble sleeping. With a heavy sigh, she abandoned the bed they shared – it felt too intimate to remain there now. They’ve only ever kissed and it was never planned nor did it happen in the very bed she felt is so incredibly vast, so lonely and cold when he didn’t stay there with her.

Pacing the room as she saw his shadow do the night before, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if he had trouble sleeping alone too. It was less than a full week since they married and she already cursed the smallest part of her that seemed to care for him.

Men are easy to love. A woman’s heart was made to care and love those near her. Mistaking love and trust is what a woman should never do. Love and trust are separate entities, one is given, the other must be earned.

Remembering her mother’s words eased her self-loathing. If she dared to love the Darkling, it wasn’t entirely under her control. Trusting him was different. She wasn’t as naïve as to allow the echoes of her heart dictate what her mind long acknowledged – he isn’t trustworthy.

And as the stars rise in the sky, she paced the room tirelessly. Arguing with herself, she paid no mind to the night sky she loved so much. If she had, Y/N might have realized a man with dark skies for eyes had trouble looking away from her shadow.

Exhausted, Y/N rose with the dawn. She had barely scraped up a few hours of decent sleep, tormented by his words even in dreams.

“Enter”, she yawned as Genya readily walked inside. The maids rushed to the bed, willing to change the bed sheets they couldn’t last time as Y/N had sent them away.

“Stop!” She exclaims as they reach Kirigan’s side of the bed, a slightly panicked look on her face relaying uncontrollable desires she had no chance of understanding.

Frowning, Genya licked her lips. While Y/N wasn’t sure what caused her outburst, she believed to know the root. “Leave us. You will be asked to change the sheets when Y/N desires it.”

Swallowing thickly, Y/N turned away. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be”, Genya mussed. “We have a dinner to prepare you for.”

“Yes, of course.” Y/N managed a smile, briefly looking to Genya. “I’ll be alone which gives me a perfect chance to find new allies.”

Blinking fast, Genya’s frown deepened. “I’m not sure who could ally with us in the Palace. Everyone’s charmed by our General. If you’d just work with him, they would all be with you too.”

“He works for the emperor.” Y/N reminded her.

Running her hands through her hair, Y/N didn’t know if she could ever trust him enough to tell him the truth. Her plans, her fight, it’s her life’s work. She came into that palace with intention of burning it down. The emperor must die and anyone else who’d fuel the flames of war must perish along with him. The war had claimed her mother’s life, of thousands of humans and Grisha alike, Y/N aimed to end it. And to end it, she had to destroy those who started it, those who refused to implement equality between species, as Kirigan called them. Humans and Grisha must be seen equally worthy, they must ally or they will be exterminated like vermin by surrounding enemies.

She grieved for her mother every day, even now as a decade had passed. Grief is really just love one cannot give to the other. It’s all the unspent love, gathering in the corners of her eyes, the lump in her throat and inside the hollowed heart that’s trying to beat in her chest. If her sorrow was but snow that could melt with coming spring, she’d shake it off her shoulder and be done with it. It doesn’t just disappear or heal with time, she could not just let it go and forgive. Y/N survived the loss of her mother by making a vow, one she was closer to fulfilling.

“Should I prepare your usual kefta?” Genya asked, holding the blue one over her forearm.

Shaking her head, Y/N turned to her with a smile. If she wants to succeeded, she must use all weapons at hand. Being the General’s wife is one of the weapons at her disposal.

“I was thinking about a different color for tonight.”

“How different are we talking?”

Smirking, Y/N’s eyes flickered to Kirigan’s kefta. “Black.”

“No one wears black but Kirigan”, Genya reminds her.

“Until he married. I believe I’m allowed to wear his color.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Genya sighed heavily. “Alright. As long as you allow me to make a few modifications.”

Anticipating the dinner, Y/N felt like a goddess in the kefta Genya had crafted for her. It fit her perfectly, adjusted just above the waist as it properly accentuated her curves. The closed collar wrapped around her neck, fallen stars creating a golden woven blaze as a necklace, while moondust adorned the long, skin tight lacey sleeves. The bottom acted as a floor length dress with a long slit revealing skin up to middle of her thigh.

Entering the room with her head held high and Genya on her hand, Y/N felt even more confident about the eclipsed sun stitched across her heart. It was bound to attract attention if the rest of her makeshift kefta inspired dress didn’t.  

The moment she took a step inside, everybody’s head turned. The chatter died down, replaced by astonished gasps of pure awestruck admiration.

“I believe you’ve created a masterpiece”, Y/N whispers to Genya whose smile widens.

“You are what makes it so spectacular”, Genya winks.

“Don’t be modest. We both know it’s not in your nature.”

Giggling, Genya nods, “You’re right. I’m brilliant and this”, she steps aside to give her a once over again, “You are proof.”

Pursing her lips, Y/N felt her cheeks darken. Her plan was to draw attention so any potential ally she speaks to would be more inclined to accept her request, but she didn’t expect for everyone to stop and stare.

Tugging her by the arm, Genya pulled her closer. “You’ll never guess who is here”, she spoke in a hushed tone, looking to the left as the rest of the guests began speaking again and the music played softly in the background.

Following her line of view, Y/N’s heart came to a near stop as her eyes locked on his.

“Wasn’t he supposed to leave last night?” Genya whispers, but Y/N could hardly speak.

Breath caught in her throat, Y/N stared back at Kirigan who seemed to be just as breathless. She looked like a dream, a golden bird that carried all the happiness of the world on its wings.

“He didn’t”, Y/N looked away, knitting her eyebrows. “Why didn’t he”, she tried to finish her initial thought, but she couldn’t. If she spoke of the sudden ache that settled after the initial shock of his presence dispersed, she’d hate herself more. She’s weak if her feelings are hurt by a single night spent alone in a bed. She was certain now. She is foolish.

“You won’t be able to network tonight”, Genya’s frown made Y/N chuckle.

“You’ve been frowning so often since we met.”

Shrugging, Genya leaned in discreetly. “I can afford a few worry lines. I’ll just erase them later.”

Playfully rolling her eyes, Y/N smiled brightly. She would not allow Kirigan to dampen her mood. He can stay on his side of the room and she won’t spare him a single glance.

“I’ll test the waters”, Genya promised, “If I find anyone that we can work with, we can test their loyalty later.”

Glancing over Y/N’s shoulder, Genya’s eyes widened ever so slightly.

Frowning lightly, Y/N glanced at what has her so perplexed only to huff in frustration.

“Black suits you”, the Darkling compliments her. Holding out a hand for her to take, he glances at his open palm before raising his brow. He’s challenging her.

Looking around, she realizes everyone’s waiting for her reaction. As he told her once before, they may not be a love match, but their arrangement must seem successful to the unsuspecting eye.

“Dance with me and pretend they don’t exist”, his voice softened and she couldn’t believe this is the same man who so cruelly baited her, branding her as foolish earlier. How can he act as if nothing happened when she was still reeling from it? Not that he’d know, she always put care in every move she made around him.

She placed her hand on the palm of his, holding her breath as she chained her gaze to the abyss in his. There’s no going back, she thinks, nearly shuddering as he places his free hand on her hip.

“I thought you were gone by now”, she mussed. Choosing to take control of the conversation, she kept her neck straight as it secured a proper distance between their faces.

“We had a slight delay”, he said, “I’ll be gone tonight.”

Humming, she swallowed thickly. Avoiding looking at others, she remained in a staring match with her husband.

“How did you sleep?” The Darkling smirked, watching her eyes narrow at him.

“Quite well. Did you enjoy sharing your bed with someone else?” While her voice seemed cold and unattached, her words were anything but.

“Do I detect a hint of jealousy there?” Pursing his lips, he nearly laughed as she stepped on his foot. “I’ll take that as yes.”

“I’m merely concerned how it would look if word of you sleeping elsewhere got out. I prefer my pride and honor untouched and if you choose to find a lover, I should assume you’ll be discreet.”

Licking his lips, the great general didn’t laugh at her or sneer. There was no angry squinting or vile words. For once, he had a serious expression on his face that had nothing to do with the army or their arguments.

“I’m not the kind who would seek a lover while married. Even if the marriage is a mere arrangement.”

Scoffing, she clenched her jaw as he pulled her waist closer to him. 

“How many lovers have you taken?”

He raised a brow, “That’s a horrible question.”

“Because you lost count?” She narrows her eyes, the lips he found himself so fascinated with formed a thin, red line.

He doesn’t respond, so she tried again, “Why have you not married before?”

Now he looked amused, “That’s even worse!”

Shrugging, she smirks, “Well, ask me a question then! If all mine are so awful, let me hear yours.”

“Do you think I’m a very good liar or a very unlovable being?” Slowly pulling her body flush against his, Darkling looked deep into her eyes. “I’ve never loved anyone and I’ve manipulated everyone who has fallen in love with me. So?” Inhaling sharply, he watched a disarray of emotions cross her face as he asked again, “Liar or unlovable?”

“A liar. Because you are lying, not just to me but yourself.” Her breathing is shallow, strained even. “You have a heart, General, but you’re cowering like a scared little boy instead of just facing the facts.”

“And what are those?” His voice is darker as are his intentions.

If they were alone, she was certain he’d be kissing her lips now. For some reason, it seemed he enjoyed their arguments. He liked it when she fought him almost like he didn’t know any other form of affection.

“That you care. You care and you hate yourself for it.” Stopping their dance, she managed a faint smile. “But don’t worry, I’m not spending my time waiting for you to accept it.”

Brushing his fingers across the left side of her face, he cocked his head ever so slightly, “Is it possible you’ve got this all wrong? From where I stand, you’re the one who cares – perhaps a bit too much? Let me remind you, this marriage is a sham. You are my wife, but I do not love you, I do not care for you and if you were killed right in this very spot, I would avenge you but solely for the arrangement to remain unsullied.”

Nodding, more to herself than him, she took a step back from him. For the first time ever, she drew back. “For once, we’re on the same page of the same book.”

The music stops. Looking to the man clinking his glass, Y/N’s lips part. She didn’t even realize it, but too often she entirely forgoes breathing in Kirigan’s presence.

Taking a deep breath, she nearly laughs. Kirigan…General…The Darkling. She even called him husband, yet she never even heard his first name. How odd is it to marry a man whose first name is a mystery to you, she thought.

“If you’ll excuse me”, she nods curtly without sparing him a glance. 

Her seat at the dinner table was beside Genya, while Kirigan was placed all the way on the other side of the room. She smirked, satisfied she’ll have some peace during her meal. She never quite liked the table formation in a wide U form before, but she blessed the ones who created it on this evening.

Studying him from afar, she couldn’t deny the attraction she felt for him. It wasn’t some cosmic connection that she hoped she’d share with her husband, rather wishful thinking. Longing for him is out of the question. He may be the most handsome man she had ever seen, but it’s not at all something she’d thank the saints for. If he were less appealing, she’d at least be free of torment his looks bring. The devil is real and he’s not a goat like man as humans believed. There are no horns, no tails – he’s beautiful, a fallen angel, but an angel nonetheless.

“You’re staring at him again”, Genya speaks in a hushed tone, her smile audible.

“I’m not”, Y/N replies, “I simply looked over in a direction and he happened to be seated there.”

“Then why was that look on your face?” Genya raises an eyebrow.

“What?” Y/N asks, incredulous. “What look?”

“You have a certain way of looking at him”, she informs. Letting out an tired huff, Genya explains, “You look at him and it’s like you’re staring at the night sky littered with stars.”

“So?”

Genya looks down before whispering, “You love night skies littered with stars.”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N stared at her food for the rest of the evening. One bite after another and her plate was quickly emptied. Her stomach felt like it would burst, but she didn’t care. Most people claim they can’t eat under stress, but she was the opposite – her appetite only grew.

“He’s standing up”, Genya informed her and despite wishing she remained impassive, Y/N’s eyes shot up to where he was sitting.

With a lump at the back of her throat, she watched him as he headed to the door. A part of her hoped he’d be decent enough to bid his farewell, to acknowledge her at least. That part of her needed to be destroyed, she decided. It’s the part of her that would ruin her mission and for what? If she truly wanted to, she could have him on his back and under her. If she wanted him, he’d be hers – at least his body would. The principle she held onto was more important and so, she swallowed thickly and looked to her empty plate in order to stop her weakness from showing.

As she looked away, the Darkling looked back at her from across the room. He felt a strange tightness in his heart and once he saw she didn’t follow him with her gaze, his heart dropped. Furrowing his eyebrows, he kept his gaze on her for a while longer – her beauty was unmatched by anything he had ever seen. White looked good on her, every color did – but black fabric hugging her curves could bring a dead man back to life.

With a heavy heart and frown etched on his face, the Darkling turned his back and left the room, the Palace, the strangest, most beautiful creature he ever laid eyes on.

He carried her in his thoughts ever since. It aggravates him how quickly she’s gotten under his skin. Most of the month before their marriage was finalized was spent in petty comments about their armies or their distaste for one another. She was insufferable, maddening and entirely different from what he expected.

And yet, even then, the Darkling hoped she’d lose her patience and either leave or tell him she loves him. If she left, he’d be free of her and the shackles of an undesirable marriage, but if she told him she loves him, perhaps he’d believe her. If he knew there was ever a possibility of her loving him, he’d dare assume he might be deserving of love – because she may have dubbed him a liar, but he believes himself to be unlovable too. He never saw the point in allowing himself to feel a thing for her when it would be futile, wasted emotions on a woman sworn to hate him.

Once he was done chasing a rumor of a stag up north, the Darkling had to accept it too was a futile. Going after a legendary animal wasted so much of his time that he couldn’t even believe how foolish he’s become too. The stag must not be real after all.

Approaching Little Palace, he felt almost eager to run up to their shared chambers and see her. Even if she’d likely have a few choice words for him, he hoped he could make her blood boil just to hear her speak. He’d never admit it, but he missed someone he could converse with without dying of boredom.

“General”, Genya rushed to Kirigan who nearly growled at the distraction. However, Genya seemed distraught, panicked enough to draw his attention.

“Yes?”

Swallowing thickly, she wiped a stray tear slipping down her cheek. “It’s Y/N.”

His heart stops at the sound of her shaky voice, his jaw clenching before speaking. “What happened? Is she alright?”

“She went for a ride this morning and she hasn’t been seen since.”

Darkling’s gaze hardens as he grips Genya’s arms and shakes her lightly. “What do you mean?!”

“We sent riders after lunch, because I was worried she missed two meals already”, gasping for air, Genya’s tears made tracks, “The snow covered her tracks.”

She left me, he thought. She deemed me unlovable, unworthy. She left.

“They managed to find her mare”, Genya continues through tears, “It was decapitated and left in the woods.”

“Woods?” He frowns, wondering why she’d stray from the meadow and then he realized. He’s the one she rode into the woods with. She must have thought the woods were safe. They were at the time, only because he was with her and he’d never let any harm come to her.

“There were signs of struggle, but the snow is making it hard for us to track them.”

Releasing a visibly shaken Genya, he grunts. Biting his lower lip, he paced before her as his hand ran through his hair. She never saw him so worried, so mad before. He looked like a man walking a fine line – a line between madness and sanity.

“Call everyone”, he orders, “We must find her.”

Exhaling in relief, Genya smiled as Ivan emerged, having heard everything.

“Why would we do that?”

A pause ensues as the Darkling takes a step toward Ivan. “I haven’t made a promise in so long”, he spoke but in truth, it’s been hundreds of years since he made anyone a promise. “I promised her I’d protect her.” His voice was ragged, but controlled. “So I’m making a new promise right here, if they harm a single hair on her head, I will end them all. I will do it with a smile on face and I will bathe in their blood!”

They took her from him and he had every intention of ripping the world apart with his bare hands and for once, the thought of how far he’d go for that insolent woman didn’t frighten him. He barely knows her, he certainly doesn’t love her, but Saints help those who touched his wife.

=============================

Tags: @bruxa0007​ @rangotangomango​ @kaitlyn2907​ @thestoryofmylife9​ @shelivesindaydreamswme​ @hxrgreeves​ @safetyhtom​ @kaqua​ @savannah-elliott​ @all-art-is-quite-useless​  @azure23x​ @girlmadeofavocados​ @ashdab2611​ @acciorudolphx​ @ladyblablabla​ @wckedheart​​ @xceafh​ @sanna2020​ @tarkanelima-blog​ @takethee​ @mellifluous-cosmos​ @marvel-ousnesss​ @tea-effect​ @starlightofsolaria​ @p3nny4urth0ught5​ @blackbirddaredevil23​ @sarcastic-and-cool​ @slytherinsbiggestproblem​ @within-thehollowcrown​ @notthatchhavi​ @musicconversedance​​ @astrosmayhem   

Part 6

[cuddlepilefics]

It's getting warmer, or is it?

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Felix

Caregivers: dance-racha + Chan

In the early spring weather, it ends up being surprisingly colder than one would think with how sunny it looks and Felix is fooled, which his body isn't very pleased about.

No one’s POV.:

Felix had been looking forward to spring for so long. Sure, he loved winter and he loved snow but he also easily caught a chill, so the Aussie was excited to be able to go out without having to wear multiple layers. He didn’t want to admit it but the lack of sunlight had made him feel a little gloomy these past few months. During the holiday celebrations, he was happy and excited but when those were over and it was still cold and dark outside, he was ready for the seasons to change again. It was all a trick though, Felix realized when he woke up to bright sunlight streaming into his room and opened the window to let in some fresh spring air, only for his skin to instantly prick with goosebumps. Unwillingly he had bundled up in multiple layers again before following his friends to the company building. There was a thin layer of frost on the ground, which made Felix pout. He had hoped it would finally be getting warmer again. To his surprise, it did get warmer pretty quickly and by the time they went out for lunch, the dancer was sweating in his layers. Smiling that in the end, his wish had been fulfilled, he took off a few layers and stuffed the clothes into his bag.

After lunch, the group split up and Felix headed to the practice room with Minho and Hyunjin, still hyped that it was getting warmer. Feeling his energy renewed from the time he had spent outside, Felix went all out during their practice session. His hyungs were happy too to see their sunshine finally back to his usual self. His low mood recently had worried them but it seemed to be getting lighter now that it was sunnier outside. Using up all of his energy, Felix managed to sweat through his shirt by the time they called it a day and prepared to go back to the dorms. The Aussie’s mood remained light, despite the exhaustion as he glanced outside and realized the sun hadn’t set yet. It was still sunny, so when he struggled to pull his sweater from the bottom of his bag, he just shrugged and decided to walk home in his shirt. Sure, it was sweaty but it was warm outside and their way back was short. “Are you sure, you wanna go out like that? Didn’t you have a jacket or something earlier?”, Minho asked worriedly, slinging his bag over his shoulder. The older himself had put a warm hoodie over his shirt and knew his dongsaeng wasn’t as resistant to the cold. Felix picked up his bag, smiling: “Yeah, I’m sure. It’s getting warmer and the way’s short, so I want to feel the sun my skin.”

Minho and Hyunjin didn’t have the heart to tell him that he wouldn’t feel the sun on his skin as the temperature dropped rapidly in the evening, despite the sun still being up. The Aussie was right though, their way home was pretty short, so he’d probably be fine. Felix whined when they stepped out of the building and a cold gust of wind brushed across his bare arms. It had looked so warm but he could barely suppress a shudder. The sinking sun doing nothing to keep him warm. Although Hyunjin offered him his jacket, the younger declined. If he felt that cold, he could dig his own one out of his bag. His hyung shouldn’t be cold because of him. Call it laziness or stubbornness but either way, Felix did not dig his sweater out of his bag, deciding to rather suffer for a few more minutes till they got back to the dorms.

The trio parted at the front door, Hyunjin heading to the dorm he shared with 3racha, Minho and Felix to the other one they shared with the two maknaes. Though the Aussie didn’t want to admit it, he felt chilled all the way through and tried his hardest to suppress the shivers. He wasn’t in the mood for any ‘I told you so’ but Minho noticed the goosebumps and sent the younger to take a warm shower, not wanting his dongsaeng to fall ill. Felix gladly went straight for the bathroom, sighing when the hot water ran down his back. He was still frustrated that the weather had tricked him but it’d be fine, soon it’d be warmer and he wouldn’t be fooled like that again. After dinner, the Aussie made himself a cup of hot cocoa and huddled under his blanket to watch a movie. He would’ve expected with the blanket and hot drink, he’d warm up in no time but when he decided to shut off the light, he still felt chilled.

That didn’t change when Felix had to get up the following morning, gladly bundling up in multiple layers to keep the chills at bay. He was a little achy but blamed it on the practice the previous day. The mood was light when he joined his friends for breakfast but that soon changed as he hummed a low: “Good morning.” Felix hadn’t noticed until then that his throat did feel a little irritated and the greeting had come out even scruffier than his usual morning voice. Seungmin and Jeongin replied sleepily, while Minho asked the younger if he was feeling alright. The Aussie nodded, rasping: “Jus’ still not really ‘wake.” That earned him a soft chuckle as his hyung placed his breakfast in front of him. They ate in silence, except for soft sniffles coming from Felix, and Minho mentally slapped himself for allowing the younger to walk home in his sweaty practice shirt. The boy was most certainly coming down with something now and it would’ve been so easily preventable. Minho felt his worried confirmed, when he passed by the bathroom and heard the younger cough. It sounded muffled, like Felix was trying to quieten it by pressing his towel to his mouth but the older could hear him nonetheless.

Not liking where this was going, Minho through a bag of cough drops and pack of tissues into his backpack. The group would start the day with a few hours of dance practice and remembering the choreographies they were planning on working on, Minho could tell his dongsaeng would suffer, even more so than the rest of them. Felix had looked so tired and they’d be working on some of their most intense dances, he could only hope the Aussie would wake up properly till they got to the company building. Sadly, Felix didn’t wake up properly, his mind still hazy by the time they got there. His voice had only gotten worse after his coughing fit and the rest of the group was catching on too. As they were warming up, the Aussie accepted that his muscles weren’t simply sore from the last practice session but rather ached from the low-grade fever he was pretty sure he was running. It wasn’t nearly bad enough to speak up about his discomfort though and he instead forced himself to his starting position in the center of the room.

They had only gone over the dance once but Felix already felt winded. At some point, he had lost the ability to breathe through his nose, which somehow managed to run but also be blocked entirely at the same time, forcing him to breathe through his mouth. It left his throat even drier and made him cough more frequently. When Felix was hit by a particularly bad fit, he had to stop dancing entirely and sat down by his bag to wait it out and catch his breath, watching the rest of the group finish that run-through. Still a little out of breath, Chan made his way over to his fellow Aussie. “Hey, you doing okay?”, the leader asked softly, resting his hand on Felix’s arm. By now, the younger wasn’t sure, he still had the energy to pretend and eventually admitted: “I think I caught a cold.” – “You think?”, the older chuckled. It was more than obvious that Felix had caught a cold with how much he was coughing. His reddened nose and tired eyes even more of a confirmation. “I thought I was just tired but now I don’t feel so good”, the dancer sniffled, his voice low and thick with congestion. “Yeah, you don’t sound so good either”, Chan agreed, rummaging through his bag before handing the younger a tissue. Felix thanked him quietly before blowing his nose and wincing at the pressure in his sinuses.

Minho joined the two, handing Felix the cough drops he had brought along. He studied the younger worriedly before making eye contact with Chan, the leader’s expression mirroring his. Biting the inside of his cheek, Minho hummed: “You’re not planning on continuing this practice, are you? Because I don’t like how glossy your eyes look, it makes me think you’re running a temperature.” – “I-I don’t know”, Felix rasped, breaking into another painful cough. There was a steady hand on his back, Chan comforting the younger as his eyes watered from the strain. “I agree with Minho”, the leader stated with a sympathetic smile, “We’re going over the most intense dances today and you’re already in no shape to dance. You’d make yourself worse if you tried to push through, so I won’t let you.” Nodding defeatedly, Felix looked up at the older and whispered: “What am I supposed to do now then?” – “Your choice, you could go back to the dorm and rest or you sit out this practice and come to the studio with us later. I don’t know about the second option because you don’t sound like you’ll record anything anytime soon but I’m not going to exclude you if you want to stick around”, Chan offered. He knew the younger would easily get lonely when he was sick and all by himself, so if he wanted to watch their practice, he’d be welcome to.

Dreading the thought of being at the dorm all by himself till the late evening, Felix requested hoarsely: “I’d like to stay. Even if I can’t record, I’d like to see how the album is progressing.” – “That’s alright with me”, Chan agreed, “You should put on your sweater though, if you’re not moving around anymore.” The younger complied, slipping on an additional layer. He didn’t mind as he was feeling a little cold anyway. “Okay, so water, tissues and cough drops”, Minho mused, adding a pack of tissues to the small pile next to his dongsaeng, “Here’s my sweat-jacket too. You can put it on over your sweater in case you feel cold.” – “Thank you, hyung”, Felix sniffled quietly, wrist rubbing against his nose before he twisted to the side with a harsh sneeze. The older two blessed him and asked if he needed anything else before going back to practicing. The members took turns checking on their friend during their short water-breaks but Felix insisted he was fine every time someone asked.

He wasn’t though. The longer he spent in the practice room with the bright ceiling lights on and the music blasting on high volume, the worse he felt and he soon also changed his mind about wanting to go to the studio. His head hurt so badly and his eyes stung, all he wanted to do was go home and sleep. With the way his muscles ached, the hard practice room floor soon became unbearably uncomfortable and he waited for his friends to take a break, so he could talk to Chan again. He shuddered when the leader finally made his way over to him and looked at him with worry. Felix hadn’t realized that this wasn’t a break but rather his group packing up, to move to the studio. “H-Hyung?”, he asked softly, closing his eyes against the tears welling up in them, “I- uhm, I kinda feel worse and I think I’d rather go back to the dorm.” – “What’s going on?”, Chan frowned worriedly, rubbing the dancer’s arm as the first tear trailed down his flushed cheek.

He didn’t get an immediate answer but eventually, Felix shrugged, admitting: “I-I don’t even know. I’m just so tired and everything hurts and it’s all too much, the lights, the noise, everything, I don’t know.” Chan furrowed his brows and felt his dongsaeng’s forehead, sighing: “You’re definitely running a fever now, which is probably why you’re hurting and overwhelmed and yeah, I think it’d be best for you to go home and rest. Will you be able to get back by yourself though?” Felix shrugged again and shakily struggled to his feet. His head spun and he caught himself against the wall, which was all Chan needed to see to know he wouldn’t let the younger go back alone. “How’re you feeling now?”, the leader asked, when it seemed like Felix had found his balance. Running his sleeve under his nose, the dancer sniffled: “Tired an’ lightheaded. My legs feel so weak, are they shaking? Or does it just feel like the ground is so unsteady?”- “Alright, you’re definitely not going alone”, Chan announced, helping his friend sit down again, “Hang in there and I’ll figure something out, yeah?”

3racha all had to be present at the studio as they played a major role in the production. As the main vocalists, Seungmin and Jeongin would also be needed sooner rather than later, so it’d be most convenient for Minho or Hyunjin to walk Felix home. When the Aussie stood up again, he was even more lightheaded than the first time, so they decided that both dancers would take him back to the dorm before joining the group at the studio. Minho quickly packed his backpack and Felix’ bag before slinging both over his shoulder and linking his arm with Felix’. Hyunjin walked up to the Aussie’s other side and linked their arms too to ensure the younger wouldn’t trip and fall. “You ready to go?”, Hyunjin asked softly, taking in his dongsaeng’s pale complexion. Felix nodded. He wanted to get this over with as fast as possible as every second that he was on his feet seemed to zap his energy and he didn’t know how long he’d be able to keep that up. The trio quietly bid their goodbyes and the other members told Felix to feel better before they were off.

Their journey home was slow and torturous for Felix, his muscles aching worse and worse. Hyunjin took him straight to his room when they returned, while Minho headed to the kitchen, hurrying to prepare a pot of tea for his dongsaeng before they’d have to leave again. “Hyung?”, Hyunjin asked, walking up to Minho, “I took his temperature and it’s a moderate fever but I don’t think it’d be dangerous for him to have another blanket. He’s so cold, I wanted to get him another one. Do you keep any spare blankets around the dorm?” – “Oh, yeah. If you take this to his room, I’ll go and get another blanket”, the older agreed, nodding towards the teapot.

While Minho walked off to get Felix another blanket, Hyunjin took the teapot and a cup to the Aussie’s room and placed them on his nightstand. Running his hand through his dongsaeng’s hair, Hyunjin informed: “Minho-hyung is fetching you another blanket to ease the chills a little. Do you need anything else? Should I grab you some painkillers?” – “No need to”, Minho smiled stepping into the room with a blanket over his shoulder ad a box of painkillers in his hand. He placed the medicine next to the tea before spreading the blanket over Felix’ shivering form. “There you go”, the second oldest smiled, “Will you be okay on your own now?” Pulling the blanket tighter around himself, the Aussie nodded and rasped: “Thank you, hyungs. I thought I might get lonely but with how tired I am, I’ll probably sleep until you get back.” – “Alright, you can text us if you need someone to talk to, yeah? And I’ll convince Chan-hyung to send the first member, who finishes his recording, back to check on you”, Minho promised, “Feel better, Lixxie.” With that, the two older dancers left and Felix allowed himself to relax into his blanket cocoon, finally getting warmer.

[bokutoslittlebird]

Family Vacation

Bokuto x reader x Akaashi

Author’s Note : no incest, I promise ; the request included some slight BokuAka interaction, however I made it more than slightly ; the hot springs resort is loosely based on three different locations under the Kinosaki Onsen in northern Hyogo [Mikuniya Ryokan, Yutouya Ryokan, Nishimuraya Ryokan]. Each one offers different things, but they all have some common aspects that I liked: seafood served during winter months [November - March], traditional ryokan, and options for the hot springs [indoor, outdoor, and family] ; holy fuck is this wrong.. but holy hell is it erotic

Warnings: introduction of the Bokuto family, best friends to lovers au, playful teasing [about reader’s virginity], some mlm [Bokuto x Akaashi] interaction, fingering, face-sitting, handjob, blowjob, cum eating, spit exchanges and mentions, no penetrative sex, virgin!reader, virgin!Bokuto

“Oh, [Y/N]! I’m so glad you could make it!”

“Thank you for having me, Bokuto-san,”

“Oh, dear, call me Fuyumi! You’re practically family, anyways,” she smiles, eyes crinkling as she does. Her smile makes you smile, bowing in respect as if you haven’t known her for years.

The Bokuto family always spent their winter vacation before New Years at an Onsen in Hyogo. Yasurai-fukurou was well known for their hot springs throughout the year, but their meals included seafood in the winter. Kōtarō and Shinjiro both love seafood, especially crab, so it made sense the Bokuto family would come to this place specifically. Winter meant snow, and snow meant the garden view from the spring was gorgeous, having the silver lining the green foliage as the pebbles along the ground glistened with melted snow, cold and slippery. It was Kōtarō’s and Machiko’s favorite season, so it was an added bonus. The family had the money to spend, treating the members to a relaxing trip. Even Keiji, Kōtarō’s friend, joined them his first year at Fukurodani.

You didn’t usually attend, yet you always wanted to. Your family celebrated holidays differently, so you often found yourself swamped with family activities around December, only getting free to hang out by the time school started back up. Always wishing to go, you finally got your wish this year. With the stress from school this past semester, your family decided to let you choose what to do, so you declined spending the holidays with your family. Instead, you were free to spend that quality time with the Bokuto family. Fuyumi practically begged Kōtarō to invite you, knowing you’d be alone, so you didn’t have to worry about inviting yourself. There was one problem, however.

“[Y/N] should room with us!” Machiko points out. “She can’t board with boys!”

“What do you take us for? We’re her best friends,” Kōtarō waves off his sister. “I worry Amaya might try to wrestle her,”

“She could use the practice!” She pipes up, only to be shut back down. “I wouldn’t hurt her,”

“Why not let the girl choose herself? It is where she will stay, in the end,” Shinjiro said. Although he was right, you suddenly felt your heart tugging in two different directions. Machiko and Kōtarō gave you the puppy dog eyes, begging to choose them. A heavy sigh came from you as you weigh the options presented in front of you.

“I trust Keiji and Kōtarō, I’ll room with them,”

“No!” The two girls dramatically shout, falling to their knees. Fuyumi laughs, patting your back.

“Good choice, dear,” she compliments. You know why. Her daughters may be considered mature and adults, but they are both hectic and chaotic in their own way. At least with Kōtarō, he has Keiji with him. There’s no reason to mull over the decision, you know full well that Keiji and Kōtarō wouldn’t hurt you.

Once settled into each room, your bedding laid between the two of them, the trip to relax in the ryokan was in order. The two genders were separated, of course, so you sat in the spring with Machiko, Amaya, and Fuyumi. It wasn’t a bad thing, being with the three, but you knew Machiko and Amaya like to tease you.

“Gosh, [Y/N], you’re so innocent! You’ve never done anything?” Amaya’s face made it seem like she was much more malicious than on the surface. “Even I had a couple boyfriends that I had special adventures with before your age,”

“Excuse me? Amaya!” Fuyumi scolds her daughter. “You never told us this,”

“Why would I? You and dad never allowed me to have a boyfriend until I graduated. Kōtarō even had a girlfriend in his second year,” she pouts, puffy cheeks making her less malicious and much more adorable. Though unintentional, her words make your mood sour, Kōtarō’s slipping from her lips. Machiko notices this, however.

“Well, Kōtarō is a boy and I told your father to make sure he doesn’t do any of that dating stuff, but it seems like he did,”

“You know, I’m kind of tired. I’m really relaxed,” you mention, moving to exit the water. “I should lay down and take a nap,”

“Oh, are you sure? Dinner will be served soon,” Machiko holds out her hand, as if to stop you. You’re quick about getting out, rinsing yourself off before wrapping a robe around your naked body.

“I’m sure. Wake me when dinner’s ready,” you cheerfully smile, waving to them as you leave the setting. Your smile falls, an artificial thing as you continue to pad towards the room. Passing the window leading to the garden, you notice the cascading of the white snowflakes, shimmering in the light from the outdoor lamps. It’s peaceful, the way it floats down to the ground until it rapidly melts, joining the slush forming on the pathway. A sigh leaves you, heart aching from the words Amaya let spill.

It wasn’t her fault, you tell yourself that as you continue to the room. Amaya doesn’t know, but Machiko does. Machiko has always had the older sister intuition, knowing when her younger siblings had something to hide or something embarrassing. Whether it was from her years of travel around the world, or just a trait of hers, she could pinpoint things that made you want to crawl in a hole. What does Machiko know, exactly? Your big, fat crush on her little brother.

Kōtarō has been your crush as long as you’ve known him, aka since you guys were waddling around with chubby legs. Your family and his family live near each other, so it made sense for you two to play a lot as children. As the years passed, your admiration for him evolved into a crushing thing, yet your young mind wouldn’t allow such a horrid thing to be spoken. No, it festered until you broke down one day in high school and confessed to the dark of the night, the only witness of your confession was the moon. You confessed that you loved him, you were in love with him, nobody else could compare. It hurt even more now, knowing you were falling in love with him while he was loving someone else. Even Keiji probably loved Kōtarō, knowing how close they were. You wouldn’t put it past them to be in a relationship, either. Each thought accompanied a step you took, each one bringing tears to prickle your eyes as you finally shut the door to the room, and your problems.

With the dark encompassing the room, you found yourself easily situating yourself on the ground to cry, curling up in a ball as you did so. A pathetic scene, you knew it was, yet you couldn’t help yourself.

After you left the ryokan, Shinjiro happened to be talking to the boys in front of him, both of them flushed red from the warmth of the bath and the topic at hand.

“I knew something was off in the way your mother encouraged you to invite her! I never thought it’d be that, however,” his guffaw had Kōtarō sinking into the water, bubbles coming from his nose as he huffs. Keiji looks at him pitifully, but doesn’t do much of anything else.

“She doesn’t even like me like that. This trip was a mistake,” Kōtarō mumbles, his mouth going back under the water. Keiji sighs, looking into the water where his distorted hands lie. Before he can speak, Kōtarō beats him to it. “I have to go to the bathroom. I think I’ll leave early,”

“You sure it’s just that?” Shinjiro teases. “Or are you going to wait for your lovely friend?”

“Okay, maybe it’s a bit of both,” he huffs, cheeks puffed out. Keiji lets the words die on his tongue, letting Kōtarō leave the spring without any reason to look back.

Shinjiro sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks into the water. “Maybe I went too far. I shouldn’t tease him about his crush, it seems like it’s important to him. I don’t think she sees him in that light, anyways,”

“She does, actually. I think she’s been in love with him for a while,” he confesses. Shinjiro’s eyebrows rise as the words sink in. However, he is quick to understand. No longer laughing and joking, his smile is more bitter and sad. A pity smile.

“And you’ve been in love with her, haven’t you?”

Keiji turns his head to the side, yet he nods. The red dusting his cheeks is no longer just the warmth of the water. Shinjiro moves closer to Keiji, putting his hand on the younger man’s back.

“Then tell her. You both need to confess, not let this fester and turn into something ugly. Don’t let this ruin your friendship with Kōtarō, either. It’s not worth it,”

“I know. I know, Bokuto-san,”

“When you gonna call me Shinjiro? Or even dad? You need to let loose, Keiji!” He laughs again, getting Keiji to crack a smile.

While Keiji ponders how he should go about this, Kōtarō trudges up to his room for the week, unaware you’ve also turned in early. His mood has taken a turn for the worse, hair deflating as he pouts. No matter what, he’s always found himself finding your validation to be the most important. Throughout the years, he’s reached out to both you and Keiji for validation, finding them both to be important to him. While he knows Keiji partially does it just to make him happy, which he is thankful for, he knows yours is genuine. Even when he forced himself to move on, knowing you didn’t see him in that light, he found it hard. You followed him into his dreams, gleeful chimes of your laughter as the future he aims for bloomed into an obtainable goal. Yet, he’d wake up to see the empty space beside him, a brutal reminder that his dreamt future would stay in his head, playing on loop until he could do something about it in the real world.

When his door comes into view, he sighs, relief flooding through him. As he gets closer, he hears a soft voice from inside. Leaning his ear against the shut door, he hears you — a squeak of his name, accompanying a soft mewl, most likely held back due to the thin walls. Even he understands what you’re doing, it’s not like he’s never thought of you that way, finding himself wishing you could relieve his stress in the best way possible. As to respect your privacy, and settle his nerves, he quietly creeps away, to his parent’s booked room. He decides to use the toilet in there, giving you a few moments to finish your own business.

Leaning against the door once more, he doesn’t hear your heavy breaths or your moans and mewls, so he slides open the door to see you under the covers, laptop shining in your face as a movie plays. “Hey, what’re you doing here?”

“Huh?” You jump, turning to see Kōtarō’s large frame at the entrance of the room. It’s scary, the way he seems to have popped up after you finished, or attempted, getting off on thinking of him. “Oh, Kō. It’s just you. No more hot springs for you?”

“Oh, no, I found it to be getting too hot,” he lies, rubbing his neck. The robe you’re wearing is the one you put on after exiting the spring, so his perverted little mind knows you’re completely naked underneath. Not only that, you’re probably nice and slick from thinking about him—

He stops himself, hearing your voice. “Did you hear me? I asked if you wanted to watch the movie with me,”

“Oh, sorry, off in my own world. Uh, sure, what is it?”

“Crown for Christmas. A sappy romance Christmas movie, from America. It’s very predictable, but it’s cute. My mom loves it, so I brought it to watch,”

“Oh, that’s interesting,” he hums, lying on his own bedding. He didn’t move closer to you, giving you some space, but he finds himself panicking when you move closer.

“Can’t see if you’re all the way over there, dummy,” you giggle, pressing play. He can’t find it in himself to focus, the movie being background noise to his thoughts. The hot springs help to add a special glow to your skin, making it seem smoother than before, and you smell so nice, not to mention he can feel his cock throbbing at your soft voice calling out his name. What would it be like if he used his own fingers, would you be able to hold back? Or would you come completely undone as you came on his fingers— even better, his cock? Just the thought has him groaning, head shoved into his pillow as you pause the movie, probably confused.

He looks up, seeing your dazed expression — yep, totally confused. He sighs and shrugs, apologizing. “Are you okay? You seem.. tense,”

“Tense?” That’s one way to describe it, he supposes. “I’m just.. dad was teasing me earlier. That’s why I left. I’m.. remembering what he said,”

“Oh, I get that. Amaya kept teasing me about girl stuff, so I left. Machiko tried to stop me, but I was already out of the water,” you admit. It’s not the full truth, but that’s okay.

“Girl stuff? Like what?” Kōtarō never shied from girly stuff, including the weird stuff that happened to girls like puberty and the menstrual cycle. You chalked it up to his older sisters being shameless, never making it seem gross. Even when you started your period in class, Kōtarō was there to help you, a knight in shining armor.

You wish they were less shameless.

“Oh, um, you know, the romantic stuff,”

“Like? Boyfriends?”

“Yeah, I’ve.. never had one. No experience on my end. Amaya was teasing me because she had a couple of boyfriends before my age, so it.. it didn’t hurt my feelings, but it made me feel some kind of way, you know?” Your attempted explanation was kind of butchered, trying to explain it without giving too much detail. Kōtarō wouldn’t judge you, of course not, it wasn’t something to judge you about.

He knows the feeling, being inexperienced.

“W-Well, if you want any experience before going into the dating scene, I could.. always help you,” he whispers. His words hang in the air, settling into both of your minds. He’s berating himself for using such a lame line to try and get in your pants, but you’re trying to find a way to say yes without seeming desperate. However, “I mean! I have experience, so I could help you! I’d say I’m pretty good at doing stuff. Oh! It could be like.. any advice or something.. hands on,” he whispers the last part again, his confidence melting like snow on a summer’s day when your face falls.

It isn’t you don’t want it, you just would prefer him to not word it like that. It reminds you of Amaya’s words and the pain in your chest, the churn in your stomach. “If you’re gonna be like that, maybe I should ask Keiji,” you huff, turning your body away from his. Focusing on forcing your stomach to stop twisting in knots, you don’t even notice when Kōtarō closes the laptop and presses himself against you. Well, not until you feel something pressing into your back. “Kō—”

“Don’t be like that. I’ve never actually gone all the way, I’ve been saving that for someone special. I can help, though, if you’d let me,” his breath fans over your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His arm snakes under you, pulling you into his stomach while he lays on his back.

“Kōtarō!”

“You’re stressed, gotta loosen up a bit. I’m helping,” he just says, making sure your legs are hooked over his. With the lack of clothing under the robe, your nether region is spread open towards the door, sending your adrenaline skyrocketing. Kōtarō is quick to ease that, his thick fingers spreading open your folds while his middle finger rubs against your sensitive clit. “You’re absolutely soaked, do I turn you on that much?” He’s grinning, you know he is. Gritting your teeth, you keep your mouth closed as you focus on the feeling of his fingers, now sliding up and down and collecting your slick.

Kōtarō doesn’t want to tease you for too long, slipping his middle finger into your cunt as you mewl, hand coming to cover your mouth. “What a reaction. I wonder..” he trails off, pulling his finger out, only to add in three fingers. You’re arching, legs tending against his as he fingers you, lips pressing themselves to your hair and ear. When his tongue flicks out against your ear, you squirm and he grunts, his left arm keeping you firm against him. “Sensitive, are you?”

He doesn’t get any vocal confirmation from you, but the way you’re clenching around his fingers tells him all he needs to know. He makes sure to keep his thumb bumping against your clit, adding pressure. You can feel the familiar feeling, the beginning of an orgasm as he pumps his fingers into you. With a squeal of his name, your nails dig into the meat of his arm, liquids spilling out of you and all over Kōtarō’s fingers. The squishing sound enters your ears, legs tensing as you mewl, his fingers rubbing themselves against you some more.

“You’re so wet.. I bet it’d be easy to slip my cock in there, wouldn’t it?” His voice is low, a rumble in his chest as your cunt clenches at the thought, your wildest fantasies so close to coming to fruition when someone clears their throat. You pop up, Kōtarō jolting and keeping you on his chest as he moves.

Keiji is looking at the both of you, a heavy blush adorning his cheeks. The room is dim, only the lights from outside the inn illuminating him. He’s right at the door, right in front of where Kōtarō was just fingering you. Kōtarō’s hand finally leaves from between your legs, glistening wetness shown in the lamplight. “If you want to give her experience, you need to go over everything involved in foreplay, Kōtarō. There’s more to prep,”

“M-More?” your voice is small, barely a whisper as you find more slick oozing from you, Keiji entering the room. He kneels down in front of you, still held against Kōtarō’s chest.

“Has he even kissed you, yet? Or did he go headfirst into fingering you?” When you shake your head, Kōtarō himself sucking in a breath, Keiji knows he was right. With the elegance he always exudes, Keiji tilts your chin up towards him. “Then, allow me,”

The kiss is gentle, yet not simple. His lips are firmly against yours, molding perfectly as he keeps your chin tilted. As he deepens the kiss, you find your hands grasping at his own robe, feeling yourself lighter than you were when you had entered the room. Keiji moves to pull away, a brisk kiss on your lips once more before swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, sending heat all over your body.

“Akaashi..” Kōtarō whines, his grip on you tightening. “This is supposed to be my time with her,”

“Well, you’re going too fast. Why not elongate the time spent together, hm?” His voice sends tingles down your spine, his hands removing you from Kōtarō’s grasp. “Lay back, Bokuto-san. You’ll get your turn,”

Your brain is going haywire as he speaks, undoing Kōtarō’s robe with unconscious grace. He’s not doing it on purpose, you know he isn’t, it’s just how he is. Once Kōtarō has been disrobed, you find more heat springing to your cheeks as his muscles ripple and flex. The lack of light prevents you from seeing everything, but you’ve always found yourself insatiable when thinking of his broad frame and what hides under his clothes.

“Give me your hand, [Y/N],” Keiji’s voice has you coming back down to earth, yet you find yourself once more shy with Kōtarō’s legs spread, his cock heavy and so large in Keiji’s hand. You comply, though, your much smaller hand joining Keiji’s around Kōtarō’s girth. It’s so much, the way it feels and the heat of the skin under your fingertips. A soft groan comes from Kōtarō as Keiji moves his hand, his other hand shuffling you between his legs.

“This is called a handjob, [Y/N],” Keiji says. You nod in understanding, realizing he’s teaching you. “Moving your hand up and down the shaft is the basic function of it, but you can also use your fingers to tease the slit, like so,” he demonstrates, swiping his thumb over the small slit, puffy and red where Kōtarō’s cum is dripping from. The simple act has Kōtarō throwing his head back, moaning as his hand covers his mouth. The walls are thin and if his family is back, they probably have a good idea of what’s going on.

“I see,” you hum, continuing to move your hand up and down the shaft. Keiji nods, seeing you’re understanding.

“Or tease his balls, like cupping them or massaging. Don’t squeeze them hard, though. It won’t feel very nice,” his hand moves to cup and tease Kōtarō’s balls, the man himself laying on his back as his face turns red, the ministrations getting to be too much. “There’s also a blowjob, but we can teach you that next time,”

“N-Next time??” You squeak, jumping a bit. Whether it was a one time thing or the beginning of a relationship didn’t cross your mind. His words, however, seem to please you more than imaginable.

“Of course, darling. We’re not done here, either. Why don’t you let Bokuto-san show you what other kinds of pleasure he can give you?” At Keiji’s words, Kōtarō pops up with a bright smile on his face.

“Sit on my face, baby,”

“Oh, woah, wow, uh..” you stop, unsure how to politely decline. His mouth and nose, down there? Not to mention your weight on his head? You were sure he’d regret his decision. “I don’t think”

“I’ll be fine. C’mon, I gotta show you what else my mouth can do besides dirty talk,” he winks, sending more heat to your cheeks, making you feel rather hot for a winter’s day, clad in only a robe. Keiji seems to read your mind, taking your robe from your shoulders, the belt falling undone easily from the previous activities. Once you’re down to your birthday suit, Keiji presses a kiss to your shoulder blade, a whisper to go that sends you crawling closer to Kōtarō’s face. He grins, eagerly taking your thigh and placing it on the other side, keeping your drenched cunt close to his face. He says something, but only a muffled noise comes out, his tongue swiping along your folds.

With your back to him, Keiji wishes he told you to face him and watch, yet he finds the scene of you erotic. He may have a bit more expertise than you and Kōtarō, it seems that’s all that’s needed. He smiles, gaze catching on the way Kōtarō’s fingers dig into the fat of your thigh, making indents. Completely forgotten, Keiji spits a glob onto Kōtarō’s cock, him jumping at the feeling. With a few more pumps of his hand, he flicks his tongue against the head.

Kōtarō’s moan has you mewling, the sound acting as a vibration as your fingers tug harshly on the silver and black strands. Though not as long as they were in high school, there’s enough to grasp and pull on. The wet sounds from behind you has your head turning, eyes falling on Keiji’s mouth wrapped around Kōtarō’s cock. It’s an erotic scene, his head moving up as more of the length is revealed, his blue eyes settling on your own as you feel a nip down below. So focused on Keiji, Kōtarō wants your attention all on him. Keiji chuckles, almost like a hum, that vibrates around the cock in his mouth that has Kōtarō moaning.

The tongue that flicks against your clit has you squirming, restrained mewls and moans leaving your lips as hands tug on his locks. Kōtarō licks and suckles on your clit occasionally, then moves down to prod and swipe over your entrance. The position makes it easy for him to breathe, but he moves down further. New position has you squealing, hands flying to your mouth as you squeeze your eyes shut to focus on the pleasure. Another moan from Kōtarō that sends shivers down your spine, heat to your core, accompanying the obscene noises of Keiji sucking Kōtarō off.

With Kōtarō’s nose bumping against your clit, his tongue’s only focus is on your pretty little cunt, sucking and swirling his tongue. The sensitivity from earlier makes quick work of you, hunching over as your thighs tighten around Kōtarō’s head, his strong hands keeping you from hurting him as you gush all over his face. A moan comes from him as he laps at your juices spilling over his face, his own orgasm coming as Keiji takes him down as far as he can. Globs of white cum spurt from the side of Keiji’s mouth, a gagging sound as he struggles to swallow it.

A hand on your shoulder has you leaning back, falling against Keiji’s chest with his cheeks puffy. Kōtarō manages to look up at the scene, gaze fuzzy as he watches Keiji kiss you once more, cum seeping from where his lips meet yours. When Keiji pulls away, his tongue is out, pushing the dripping cum into your mouth where the rest lies. It’s enough to have Kōtarō hard once more, a dark and heavy blush settling across his cheeks and nose.

The thick appendage pressing into your back once more has you gasping and jumping, some cum spilling out your mouth and down your chest. As it travels between the valley of your breasts and over the perk nipples, Keiji takes it upon himself to lap at the milky droplets. You gulp down the rest in your mouth, making a show of it by tilting your head up, throat contracting as you swallow it all. Kōtarō finds himself unable to look away from the scene.

“Ah, seems like someone’s still raring to go,” Keiji breaks the silence, eyes glancing back to look at Kōtarō’s cock, once more standing tall and proud. He then looks to you. “Shall I let you handle this one alone?”

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Hobbit) Thorin x Reader: Dragonsickness and the Heart

(Author’s Note:  Well, it’s spring, and usually spring gets me in a hobbit/LotR mood, so here we are.  I actually wrote a shameless OC self-insert a few years ago, and decided to just take a section of it an make it a reader-insert.  

Warnings: Thorin acts like a lil creep, but in the end he wouldn’t do anything to hurt reader.  

While under the effects of the dragon sickness, Thorin says some things... You wonder if it’s the sickness talking, or perhaps it is his true feelings coming out.

Enjoy!)

   You struggled with the dwarvish armor, finally letting it fall to the ground. It was much too big and clunky: you could barely stand in it! Thorin had given the order for the Company to armor up, but it didn’t look like it would be possible for you. The clank of metal sounded in the armory around the corner, and you let out an exasperated sigh. You had taken your chosen armor to an empty room to avoid the humiliation as you attempted to try the foreign material on. Even after you managed to finally figure it out, the weight of the metal was too much. You weren’t exactly in the mood for endless teasing on Fili and Kili’s part. Dwalin might even find it humorous and would never let you live it down.

   Footsteps sounded around the corner, and you whirled around to come up with an excuse or explanation of some sort as to why you were hiding away like this. To your surprise, it was Thorin, all armored-up and looking…well…looking pretty good.

   Even with everything that had happened, after how crappy of a person he had become since the dragon sickness took its hold, you were surprised to feel your heartbeat pick up at the sight of him. He entered the dimly-lit room, eyes flickering from you to the bulky armor lying on the floor. He flashed an amused smile that made you feel weak.

   “Trouble?” he asked, pacing over with a raised brow.

   “Uh, y-yes,” you mumbled back, unable to meet his intense gaze. You tried to remind yourself that this wasn’t him. He wasn’t himself, yet it didn’t stop your heart from doing flips in your ribcage. “It obviously wasn’t going to fit. I don’t know why I tried anyways.

   “Because you’re you,” he responded with a chuckle, prompting a nervous laugh from you. He was being friendly, but there was still something off about him. His voice. He spoke in such a low and silky tone, practically laced with dragon sickness. It made you feel uneasy and not necessarily in a good way.

    As Thorin took a step forward, you caught movement in the corner of your eye and flinched out of instinct from being on the road. He noticed and paused, holding his hands up to show that he meant no harm. He only meant to give you something, he said. When you nodded, he rounded the corner until he was out of sight.  Moments later, he returned with a bundle of armor in his hands though these were different from the weighty pieces you had already tried. He handed you the iron shoulder plates first, and you marveled at the simple designs cast into them.  They looked as if they’d been made just for you.  Judging by the warmth in Thorin’s eyes, they had been.

   “These should suit you better.”

   You tentatively accepted the shoulder plates, fiddling with the leather straps that would hold them in place. You tried putting your arm through one loop as if it was a sleeve, but it felt wrong, so you tried a different angle, a different loop…

   As if reading your mind, Thorin took and unbuckled it. “Here.” 

   You gulped as he carefully took your arm and put it through the correct loop. Each movement he made was slow and drawn out, and you wondered for a minute if he was doing it on purpose just to make your heart race. It wasn’t doing anything to help the situations of your one-sided love towards him. You resolved to accept the rest of the armor politely and go find another hidden room to figure it out on your own, but as soon as the shoulder plates were secure, Thorin proceeded to strap on a chestplate.  Then he continued with a sort of metal shin guard.

   “There,” he said finally, checking some of the straps to ensure they were in place. “You will be much better protected.”

   “Yeah,” you murmured, releasing a breath.  “Thank you.”

   He gazed at you, placing a hand on each of your shoulders. “I will do all in my power to make sure you are safe.” Your eyes widened as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “You should know I have grown rather fond of you, _________.”

   You remained still, absolutely shocked at the unexpected statement. It felt as if your body wouldn’t respond.  Surely, he doesn’t actually mean what he says? It must have been some strange effect of the dragon sickness, right?  

   You had joined the Company early in the journey in hopes of changing the ending.  You and Gandalf had an understanding that you would gain the Company’s trust and use your knowledge of Middle-Earth to ensure the line of Durin survived.  From the moment you appeared on the dirt path in front of the Company in your modern clothes feeling lost and uncertain, Thorin hadn’t taken much interest other than to bark orders to you or spare a disdained glance at you and Bilbo at your “softness” when it came to life on the road. 

   Over time, you learned to place your trust in the Company and to do your part so they’d trust you- including Thorin.  He and you had started to bond, especially in Lake-Town when you’d spoken to each other outside in the snow during the celebration of the dwarves’ return to the mountain.  You even managed to make him smile a few times.  You realized that as Thorin had begun to trust you, you trusted him not only as a leader but as a friend, and your affection grew beyond what you’d originally thought.

   Still, you wondered if perhaps it was all in your head.  Thorin had seen you as young and naive early on, but that was only because of your inexperience in the world of Middle-Earth.  Things had changed.  Perhaps they had changed more than you thought?

   Thorin’s breath disappeared from your ear as he pulled away to circle aroundyou, the armor clanking with every step. You were frozen to the spot, but your lips managed to form words.

   “What about Balin? You told him that you felt nothing for me and that you were focused on the quest.”

   An eerie chuckle echoed from behind. “I told Balin what he wanted to hear. I told him that so he would not question me any further on the matter, but the truth remains…” His voice sounded right behind you. “I care about you.”

   He was saying what you wanted to hear all along, and yet it felt so wrong now. This wasn’t the real Thorin, right? You could not possibly accept this declaration of feelings knowing that he would snap out of it soon enough.

   “W-we should go join the others…”

   His arm snaked around your waist, earning a gasp from you. “I love you, ________, and I want you to say you feel the same.”

   “Thorin, I can’t. You’re not yourself. The stress of the Arkenstone and the battle must be affecting you.”

   “My own kin has betrayed me. One of them has taken the Arkenstone. Please, do not  turn away from me as well. Say you love me. Be my queen.”

   You were left breathless by his words. He had released you from his hold and circled back around to stand in front of you. Thorin leaned in, eyes flickering to your lips briefly. It was beyond tempting. All you had to do was lean in a few mere inches, and you would feel his lips on yours. It was what he wanted, and it was what you wanted…

   “I have to go,” you stated, putting some distance between the two of you. Thorin’s lips pulled down in a frown as you stepped around him.

   “You’re making a mistake,” he called over his shoulder.  “An offer such as this will not come again.”

   You hesitated at the doorway, shaking your head. “Then so be it.” And then you left. You didn’t dare look back as you hurried down the halls to get as far away from him as possible. He was crazy. Insane.

   And so are you for turning him down, a small voice screamed from within your mind. You could have been his, even for a short time. You could have had his love, even if it was twisted.  His kiss. His embrace… It could all have been yours if you had just said so.

   But it was wrong, and you knew it, to take advantage of his situation.

   “Bilbo!” You halted when you rounded a corner and almost collided with him. “Where are you off to?”

   He glanced around to make sure no one was near, holding a long rope coiled up in his hand. “I can’t just stand by and do nothing. I am taking the Arkenstone to Bard to use for bargaining. It’s the only way the people of Lake-Town will get their fair share.  Hopefully, we will avoid war.”

   “That’s a great idea. I’ll cover for you while you’re gone.”

   “Thank you, ________,” he whispered gratefully. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

   You pulled him into a quick hug. “Be careful. I’ll see you later!” You parted ways with the hobbit once more, him heading for the front gate while you lingered in the corridor. You felt so alone, standing there. None of the dwarves could understand the situation.

   It wasn’t the time to tell Bilbo what had occurred with Thorin.   It would be yet another dark secret to weigh on you for now, along with the possible fate of the journey.

   That night, the dwarves talked and laughed by the fire as usual. Even though they had all of Erebor to go off and choose a room from, the Company still liked to gather together to share a meal and camp out just like old times. Fortunately, Thorin never participated, spending his days and nights in the throne room. You joined the group, glad to have something take your mind off of the recent events. Bofur led the group in a few songs, Fili and Kili told jokes, Nori and Dori bickered and teased each other, Ori laughed along with Bombur, Bifur, Oin, and Gloin.

   Balin and Dwalin were in a more solemn mood, but couldn’t help cracking a smile every now and then. At some point, the dwarves started sharing stories of hilarious hardship over the course of the quest.

   “But don’t you remember the time in the beginning of the journey when we had to cross that river?” Bofur asked with a grin, earning a few bursts of laughter. “Quite a few of us took a plunge that day!”

   “I lost a lot of supplies,” Bombur said with a nod.

   “And what supplies you did have left was soaked!” Bofur laughed, slapping his knee.

   “I do recall the stew being soggier than usual that night,” Gloin joked.

   “Or what about the afternoon when _________ quite literally got sick of traveling?” A teasing grin spread across Kili’s face. “She jumped off of her pony to go throw up in the bushes.”

   “Hey! I felt terrible that day!” you protested playfully. “Besides, it’s not like I had ever ridden a pony all day every day for weeks before.”

   “The best part was that Thorin scolded her anyway for holding the Company up,” Fili chuckled.

   “Well, I’m pretty sure I remember a time when you and your brother were supposed to be watching the ponies and nearly got us all eaten by trolls when we had to go find them.”

   “Ooh, that’s cold,” Kili feigned offense, unable to hide the amused grin. 

   “You don’t miss a thing, lass,” Bofur teased.

   “Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, still smiling. No one asked about Bilbo, or wondered aloud where he was. The hobbit had been spending more time alone as of late, so it wasn’t unusual for him to not join them for dinner. He would return before dawn, you knew, but as each hour passed that evening, you became a little more anxious.

   You managed to set aside your worries and let sleep overtake you. You fell into a deep sleep, and a certain dwarf king haunted your dreams that night.

[mha-princess]

Don’t Let Me Be | Bakugou x Reader

Genre:Angst | Tea Shop AU | stranger to lovers | Oneshot/Ongoing | eventual smut

Word Count: 1.2k+

Warnings: mentions of depression/sadness/sickness

Summary: as the seasons change you stand at the counter unmindful and aloof, but when a boy enters the shop you cease your boredom and take his order. But every second he draws. closer an overwhelming sadness fills the room. Interested by him to try your best to befriend him a figure why this boy is so sad.

A/N: just like my previous oneshots if you would like me to continue this story a comment, reblog, or a like is appreciated! ⁍̴̆◡⁍̴̆ )⊃♡- Anako

Song recommendation for this fic - Song Request by Lee Sora

The faint scent of boiling herbs filled the small oak shop as the last reminants of winter faded away outside of its wooden walls. A slow somber ballad flowed from the small speaker at the back of the shop, filling the space with a indescribable melencholy. The transition from winter to spring was always a weird one? It was almost as if the weather dictated your mood.

Well whatever it was your shift was going by unspeakably slow. But to be fair it wasn’t all that bad, the tea shop provided a very calming setting to cope with the ever changing ordeals of life. The shop was never empty but it was never unbearably busy either. On occasion a couple would sit and have a cuppa but most of the time people ordered their teas to go.

The door of the old shop is pushed open with minimal force, the ringing of the bell shifting your attention to the direction of the sound. In lumbered a boy, his clothes baggy and oversized as if he were trying to fend off the dying cold, his hair colored a light blond creating a perfect contrast to his red irises, and the expression on his face unclear due to the the scarf wrapped firmly around his neck slightly covering his mouth.

“How may I help you today?” you question, grabbing ahold of a sticky note to take down the order.

The boy’s eyes gloss over the menu before he responds, his voice muffled by the scarf. “I’d like to have a chamomile tea.”

“Sorry,” you shake your head, “can you repeat that for me?”

He hesitates before pulling the scarf down. “Can I have a chamomile tea?”

“For here or to go?”

“Uh,” he glances around the shop before going back to looking off to the side, “here is fine.”

“Your total is five dollars and eight cents, you can sit wherever and I’ll bring you your tea when it’s ready. Can I get your name?”

“Katsuki,” He answered, handing you the exact amount of change before walking off to find a seat.

As you dip the tea bags into the steaming kettle, the once transparent water slowly turns a dark green. You then advert your attention from the tea to the boy who had just entered the shop.

He’s seated by a glass window, his shoulders slumped and his arms appeared to be wrapped in a cris cross form around his stomach as if the abundance of clothes weren’t keeping him warm enough. His eyes were glued to the outside scenery, which in your opinion wasn’t very pleasant.

The trees still weren’t fully resurrected from the harsh winter, a months worth of snow was just now succumbing to the rising (yet still low) temperatures, and the wind tumbled the streets litter up and down the cracked sidewalks. Why would that be captivating to anyone?

The kettle whistles indicating that the tea is done. With caution you pour the tea into a porcelain cup top it off with mint leaves and plate it on a saucer. Carefully you walk over to the table and set the tea infront of the unmindful boy.

“Order for Katsuki,” You state, pushing the saucer towards the boy but he still doesn’t notice your presence. Involuntarily you let your hands reach out to tap his shoulders. The male inhaled sharply as if you had just caused him physical pain. Startled by the noise he just made his eyes find yours to see if he had scared you any but he quickly looks away, unable to make eye contact.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

“No im sorry I didn’t mean to scare you. I just don’t think you heard me the first time, which is fine.” you smile softly, looking around the shop to see if there were and unsuspecting customers, “Would it be a problem if I sat with you? Buisness is kind of slow today.”

He shrugged before allowing himself to nod yes. Upon sitting down you were able to get a closer look at his features. His lips were chapped, molded into what seemed to be a frown and the underside of his eyes seemed to be a light shade of gray.

Your eyes follow his movements as he reaches out to grasp the handle of the tea cup. As his fingers slip from the cuff of his hoodie you notice that his hands appear to be covered in this scratches and welts. His fingertips were also lined with callous skin.

“Be careful, it’s hot.” You warn, watching the boys lip curl to blow the liquid. After taking a sip he sets the cup down and looks out the window once more. It’s was clear that if you wanted a conversation you’d have to try harder.

“So how’d you hear about this place? You look pretty young and people like us don’t come here often.” You smile turning your gaze towards the window. The boy swallows before answering your question.

“I use to live in the neighboring city. I moved here not too long ago but a lady used to tell me about it. She-,” the boy pauses, “ She always wanted to visit here.” His voice drawn to that of a mere mutter as he finishes his statement.

“Does she not live around here?” you question.

“Something like that,” The sullen look on his face growing even sadder as his arms go back to caressing his sides. You had clearly just unintentionally hit a nerve. You refrain from asking anymore questions, and just sit and watch the rain drops pitter across the window sill. The musical ballad filling the silence between you too.

“It’s raining again outside the window. These moments make me think of you. I can’t sleep. This silence and the melancholic sound of my heart fill the room. Making me go crazy. So I turn up my radio. Somewhere, I hear someone’s voice. And on the radio. That sad story is so much like my own.”

As the hour fades and closing time nears the boys eyes never move from the window. And the longer you looked at him the more you felt a solace form in your heart. An overwhelming sadness had you firmly seated, unable to leave. Maybe it was the clothes he wore that were clearly there for comfort or maybe it was the way his eyes told a sorrowful story.

In a last ditch attempt to get the boy to talk to you, you dish one more question. “Do you think you’ll come back sometime? Like it doesn’t have to be tomorrow or anything, I just think it’ll be nice for us to have some tea when I’m not on the clock then maybe we can go to a bakery or something, since your not familiar with this town? I could show you around.”

The boys sits firmly in the seat, his eyes still glued to the window. His expression never changing.

“You don’t have to answer right now.” you add, “It was just a suggestion.”

The boy turns and gives you nod he then reaches into his wallet to leaves you a tip, before rising to leave. He mumbles a quick thank you before exiting the shop.

“What could have someone that out of it?” You question grabbing the cup of green liquid. “He didn’t even drink much of his tea.”

“That tea was damn disgusting.” Katsuki says caressing the matte photograph. The picture showcasing two people,there’s a older female, smiling her hand placed on a younger boys head whose looking at the camera in distain. The once matted photo slowly becoming glossy with the tears of its beholder.

“You old hag. We were suppose to go to that shop as a family.” he choked, the saltiness of tears entering his mouth.

“If you don’t get well soon, I’ll lose it,” he sobs clenching the photo between his fingers.

“I’ll lose it.”

Masterlist | Request Rules | Request Box

[jaskiersvalley]

Hi, I really love your shorts and they are helping me through a really hard time right now. I just get to take a break from my mind everytime the notification pops up and, honestly I absolutely adore your writingstyle. I was hoping that there would be a bit more to the cuckoo witcher snippet you wrote cause that one was my absolute favorite

Hey Nonnie, I really hope things have settled in the time that’s elapsed since you sent this ask. On the plus side, I think I have a follow-up to this snippet of cuckoo witcher Jaskier that is good enough :D

Kaer Morhen loomed over Geralt as he approached, ready to spend the winter within its walls. It was a bittersweet moment because he had hoped that Jaskier could come with him, now that there was no doubt about whether he could make it up the harsh path. However, there was only a silent spot next to him where Jaskier ought to be. His absence was felt most keenly on the dark nights with the forest loud around Geralt while Kaer Morhen all but frowned down at his approach.

“I see you’re alone,” Vesemir greeted him, mouth pressed into a thin line. “Your cuckoo find a better nest for the winter?”

It was no secret that Vesemir didn’t approve of Jaskier. Then again, he didn’t approve of Aiden either the first few years Lambert brought him along. Now, a few decades on, Vesemir had learned to tolerate and accept his presence. It helped that Aiden always brought truly magnificent supplies to share with everyone. Plus, Eskel and Geralt liked him so if Vesemir ever grumbled, he was quickly outnumbered by his pups.

However, the words still stung and Geralt wasn’t in the mood to play nice. “I didn’t want to bring him somewhere he wouldn’t feel safe.”

“If he was a proper witcher, he could protect himself,” Vesemir shot back.

Rather than reply, Geralt growled and barged past him and to his room. It had never felt emptier than when he wished Jaskier was there too. Winter was going to be a long one.

The pass was rapidly closing, Lambert and Aiden had arrived on foot, laughing and shoving each other. Nobody ever asked them where and when they met up but they always arrived and left together. Sometimes it was easier to plead ignorance than ask a question that wouldn’t lead down a happy path. Geralt carefully never mentioned to rumours he heard of a cat and a wolf partnering up or the fact that once or twice he bumped into them unexpectedly at the height of summer.

“Is Eskel not coming this year?” Aiden asked over lunch when Geralt was trying to burn a hole in his bread with his eyes alone.

“He sent word that he is on his way,” Vesemir replied. “He’d better hurry, the path is almost shut now.”

They all knew that if Eskel wasn’t there in the next two days, he would never make it up. Assuming he was trekking his way to Kaer Morhen, not waylaid by something. Though it was Eskel, he was very difficult to sway if he had his mind set to something.

One day passed. Then another. Geralt had spotted both Lambert and Aiden on the highest point of the keep, looking out over the forest, trying to spot Eskel. Not that he had much room to judge, Geralt was out ‘hunting’ most days. He did return with pheasants and deer to prepare and cure but mostly, he wandered down the path in the hopes of finding Eskel.

On the third day, breakfast was a solemn affair. The pass had become inaccessible and they all knew that they were likely to find a body come spring when they returned to the Path. Geralt made a quiet vow to be the first to leave, so he could spare Lambert and Aiden the ache. There was a tavern at the bottom of the mountains, Geralt could do what needed to be done then go and get horribly drunk in Eskel’s memory.

“Just the four of us this year,” Lambert said, fidgeting with his tankard. “It will be strange.”

Under the table, Aiden squeezed his leg and Geralt, as well as Vesemir, politely pretended not to notice. They were all subdued, lost in their thoughts. In a few days, when they’ve all had a chance to try and wrangle the worst of their emotions, they would get together and drink to Eskel’s memory.

The loud thump of someone knocking on the door had them all jumping in a very un-witcher like way. It was a bit of a scramble for weapons because whoever it was, they were not a welcome guest. Vesemir was the first at the door, pulling it open and staring.

“I think I’ve found a wayward wolf,” a familiar voice said by way of greeting. Geralt rushed to see and found Jaskier, looking a little blue in the lips with Eskel half draped over him. “Would you like him, or shall I fly off this mountain with him in tow?”

Lambert was stepping forward and hefting Eskel over, frowning at how floppy he was. Geralt was quickly at his other side, grunting a little at having the bear so much weight.

“What the hell happened?” he asked, adjusting his grip.

“Higher vampire in the village,” Eskel rasped.”Almost lost. Then your bard showed up.”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Jaskier clapped, jolting them all out of the quiet reverie on the doorstep.

“Right, lovely, well,” he rubbed his hands together and glanced around. “Time for me to go. You’ll be fine, Eskel, got your family now. You’re looking quite perky now anyway. Nice to see you Geralt. See you in the spring.”

They watched as Jaskier turned and headed determinedly for the path. It was certain death, there was no way he was going to be able to make it down and find someone to shelter him for the season. Not in these parts of the continent.

Vesemir looked over to Eskel. If this was him looking perky, he dreaded to think what he was like before. Probably half dead. He knew all too well that the path up to Kaer Morhen took three days if it was clear and not too cold. Now though, it probably took more like five and to be dragging an at most half conscious witcher up was no mean feat.

“Jaskier,” he called after the disappearing cuckoo. There was already a kitten in the wolf den, a fledgling couldn’t do much more harm. “Thank you for bringing Eskel home.”

At the call of his name, Jaskier turned and offered a small smile. “As if I could have done anything different.” After a beat, he nodded and turned back towards the snow laden path. It was all too easy to see where he and Eskel had come from, waist deep snow with a deep furrow in it. They were both probably soaked through.

The next part was the bit that really hurt to say but Vesemir was better than his darkest shadow. “Why don’t you come inside? I’m sure Geralt would appreciate your company.” And he’d never forgive Vesemir if Jaskier tried to leave the mountain and died along the way. “You’d be welcome at our table.”

That winter, there were six witchers in Kaer Morhen, as full a house as it had been in decades. Somehow, Vesemir didn’t end up regretting having an extra mouth to feed. Not when in return, the others all smiled and laughed more freely and songs echoed through the stone halls, Jaskier often joined by at least one if not more witcher. And sometimes, in the privacy of the library, Vesemir softly joined in, enjoying humming as he read.

[himitsu-luna]

Umbrella

♪~ Now playing - Love Song, by Nct 127 ~♪

Warnings: none

Pairing: Doyoung x reader

Genre: fluff/ friends to lovers

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

— "Ohh great! It's raining!", you say out loud, standing in front of the small convenience store you've just left, while watching huge water drops hitting the ground. This ordinary statement may look harmless, but you were able to make it sound almost like a curse.

You hate when it rains. The thunders scare you, your feet get all soaked inside of your shoes, the traffic turns into a mess of impatient beeping cars, the bright and warm sun is gone, the day loses its colors and becomes gloomy, and you see your mood instantly turning gray like the sky.

Your plans were simple, easy, error proof. Step one: walk to the convenience store, ten minutes away from your home by foot. Checked. Step two: buy ingredients to bake the chocolate chip cookies you woke up craving this morning. Checked. Step three: go back home, prepare everything, and eat the cookies while watching a good drama. Big fail. You now are stuck, unable to give one step out of your shelter. You blame yourself for not having an umbrella. But who would imagine that the beautiful clean blue sky could unleash such a massive waterfall today? "Well, all I can do now is wait" - you finally say to yourself, tired of giving the rain angry glances and accepting that this is a much better option than throwing a tantrum.

After five minutes of a boring waiting, you see from afar a familiar lean and elegant figure walking towards you, under a enourmous black umbrella. You heart skips a beat when the man gets closer and you visualize better the perfect shaped features of his face. It's Doyoung.

Doyoung and you are acquantances since high school, and now you're taking the same course at college. You say "acquantances" because you could never consider yourself close to THE Doyoung. Even though you two interact quite a lot, Doyoung is like an untouchable legendary being. He is the crush of half of the campus, and just because the other half still didn't have the opportunity to meet him. You, of course, is part of the first group.

— "Hey! Y/N!! Hello!! – you see Doyoung waving his slender free hand at you, while approaching more and more. "Hi Doyoung!", You answer, when he is already in front of you, near enough to be able to hear your shy voice. "What are you doing standing here?", he asks you, leaning a bit to get to your eyes' level. "Ah, I'm waiting for the rain to stop, so I can go home. I have no umbrella, you know, hehe". Doyoung straights his back again, and looks at the sky, showing off his long and gorgeus neck, to which you give a quick glance before looking down, timidly. "Hmmm.." – Doyoung stars talking again – "This rain won't stop anytime soon, you know?... Do you... Want me to take you home?" . You freeze for a second, still processing his proposal. You're about to refuse it though, because you don't want to bother him, but he just pulls you under his umbrella and you walk away side by side, arms touching, stepping on the wide water puddles on the street – "Let's go! I can't just let you here", he says with his soft voice.

–"Oh my God, what is happening? Please heart, you're going to give me out!", you think, still not believing you are so close to Doyoung. You walk some blocks in silence, when he suddenly asks you if he can carry your shopping bags for you. You refuse a million times, but he is as stubborn as you, and manages to snatch it from your hands. He steal a glance at its inside, and gives a little chuckle -"Ohh y/n! I see you still like these sour candies no one likes! hahaha". You could feel offended, but you got happily surprised. You didn't know that such a trivial and random fact about you was known to him. Actually, not even your best friends knew about your eccentric taste in candies. You can't help but feeling flattered somehow, trying to hide a fool smile from him.

---

1st year of high school

Doyoung was a new student at the school. He knew no one, and was wandering alone through the school building, looking for something to eat at the break time. He saw a little vending machine in a dark corner near the stairs, and he went there to buy some chocolate. For his disappointment, the machine was mean. It stole his money and gave him no candy. Looking defeated with a empty stomach, he turned around to go back to the class, when you suddenly appeared, slaping the machine at some specific place, making it spit a chocolate bar right away. Doyoung grabed his prize and looked at you. He immediately noticed two things. Your warm, kind and pretty face, and a half eaten green sour candy in your right hand. His heart started beating faster as he introduced himself to you, and yours was in the same state as his, as he showed you his cute gummy smile.

---

Still walking your way to your house, you sneakily try to look at his face, but, for your surprise and shock, he is looking directly at the top of your head. "You... Changed your shampoo?", he asks you, with a curious look in his eyes. "Oh yes! After years using the same brand, I decided to change it! But wait, how do you know that??", you reply, and the confusion is clear in your tone. "It's just... not the same smell. But I still like it". His poker face is really difficult to read, although you can swear you saw some hint of red tinting his pale cheeks for a second. However, all you think as an answer is a plain "Thank you", before you fall in silence again.

---

2nd year of high school

Doyoung and you were lab partners at Science classes. Doyoung loved it, since he got the opportunity to be close to you. You never noticed his amused sparkling eyes looking at you while you excitedly explained him the subject. In one of these blessed classes, while paying attention to a glass filled with a purple liquid in front of you , you two got so close that the scent of your hair mightly hit Doyoung's senses, inebriating him. "Apple". That was his only thought until the conclusion of the class.

---

– "We are almost at your house, right? We just need to turn left there and you'll be safe and sound!" , Doyoung said, in a strangely melancholic way. "Yes! That's right! That's... Right. Oh, so you know where I live?". You were confused. You've just noticed that you never told him where your house was, and he literally guided you there without any instructions. He seems startled by your question, as he answers it, scratching the back of his neck: - " ahh..this... I saw you leaving your house once. So yes, I know." You keep in silence again, but this time you can feel his body becoming warmer and warmer through the few layers of clothes that keep your arms from really touching each other.

---

3rd year of high school

Doyoung was on his way to school, when a gorgeous tree, loaded with pink blooming flowers, grabbed his attention. He stopped to give a good look at it, but suddenly his eyes decided to focus on a beautiful figure, your figure, the one he knew so well, leaving the yellow house in front of the big tree. He was hypnotized. Thousands of petals were dancing over you, guided by the soft spring wind. It was almost like the winter snow, even though your bright sunny smile at the sky reminded him of a happy summer day, and the increasing warmth inside of his chest felt like the cozy Autumn. With that vision he got the confirmation. He was completely in love with you.

---

You stop in front of your house. Now you're facing each other, still squeezed under the black umbrella, the rain insistently pouring over you. It's time to say goodbye, but the farewell just refuses to leave both of your mouths. You, then, finally say, getting your bags back from his hands -"Well, I need to enter now. I'm baking some cookies." "Are you going to put some walnuts in your cookies? I know you love them!", Doyoung says, innocently, getting you by surprise again. "Doyoung, I'm actually really admired! I... I didn't know you knew so many little details about me. You must be a really observant person!", you wrapped your phrase like that, talking more to yourself than to him, trying to not be delusional about it.

Doyoung takes a deep breath. For a minute, he keeps his eyes shut. When he finally opens them, you see their tenderness filling your soul, as he starts to speak :"y/n, I'm only observant when it comes to you. I know a lot of things about you. I know you scrunch your nose when you don't like something; I know you bite your nails when you're feeling anxious; I know your favorite color is orange because your favorite fruit is also orange; I know you're bad at remembering dates, so you have them all written down in your notebook; I know you dislike horror movies, cry at sad movies and get excited over hero movies; I know you speak while sleeping, but only when you're too tired; I know you have this little moon shaped birth mark at your shoulder, and you are proud of it ." He stops to take a breath. Your heart is pumping faster than ever. He moves his free arm and reaches for your hand, intertwining his slim fingers with yours. At the same time, he gives a short step towards you, reducing the distance between your bodies to almost zero. His face slowly gets closer and closer to yours, and you can feel his mint breath as he start talking again: "And I know... I know you like me as much as I like you." This being said, Doyoung, all of sudden, drops the umbrella that was protecting you two, and cups your face with both of his hands. While you get drenched by the rain, your lips land on each other's and melt into a sweet, slow paced and long kiss, full of affection and passion. He carefully breaks the kiss apart, and gives you a cheeky smile, while moving his hands to your waist : "I also know you hate when it rains, and you hate to get soaked, so I'm sorry for this". You laugh lightly, replying before pulling him for another kiss : "I guess you finally got something wrong. I actually really love when it rains".

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~°• taglist - @starrdustville

[ginger-danica-snapps]

Set Our Course by the Stars

Written for Day 6 of The Spring Blossoms and Autumn Leaves event @jonsaseasonalbash 

for the prompt set, spring fever/stars/autumn sadness 

Summary: Sansa had almost given up on being rescued from the hell of King’s Landing by any member of her blood. They were all dead and gone, accept for a bastard brother who had gone to the wall. Sansa has never been so happy as to be wrong about something in her life. Her prince does come and he is the Prince Aemon her father promised her once upon a time when she was a sweet, summer child. 

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30952292

The day that Sansa’s prince rescued her from the dreaded lion’s seemed as normal a day as ever in the beginning. 

She woke early and her handmaids, all loyal, western ladies, helped her to don a dress with heavy silks and loosely tied sashes. They wove her hair into the intricate styles that Cersei Lannister was well known for. Then she took exactly twenty deep breaths, exhaling and inhaling, as she stood before her mirror and prepared her armor that could not be seen. 

Twenty deep breaths is all she allowed herself everyday, except for three times in a week when she was able to go to the Godswood for prayer. She bothered not with the sept. The southern gods abandoned her completely when Joffrey ordered her father’s head chopped from his shoulders. 

Twice she had thought she might find rescue from unlikely sources. The first when Stannis Baratheon attempted to take King’s Landing. He had failed. The second was when rumors of Daenerys Targaryen hatching dragons reached them. Then the notice of her death by the hands of the masters of the city she was sacking and the slaughter of her dragons. One stray arrow from atop a wall took down the mother of dragons. 

Sansa would have probably died in dragon fire if she had survived, but Sansa thought that preferable to being humiliated in the Lannister court and forced to eventually carry a Lannister child. 

Today was one of the days she would first go to the morning session of court. If Joffrey was in a particularly distracted mood, then Sansa would physically be able to acquit herself to the Godswood. 

She knew the chances of her making the Godswood for prayer was unlikely the moment she had walked into the balcony of the throne room. Joffrey immediately noted her presence and it was not long before a lady came to get her. 

“His Grace requests your presence, Sansa,” the girl spoke, only a few years above Sansa’s age, but certainly no one that should have considered it appropriate to call her by name with such familiarity. 

Summoning all her courage and thrusting her feelings, thoughts, and dark wishes behind the cool facade that was Lady Sansa Stark, daughter of a traitor, and willing guest of the crown’s own custody. 

In another life she would have been as Theon in Winterfell, if Cersei Lannister and her hellspawn were anything like her father. Scolding herself for the ill thinking, Sansa plastered a polite smile upon her mouth and curtsied deep before the throne. 

She maintained her stance and waited for permission to rise or for Joffrey to indicate that the Kingsguard should knock her all the way down. 

“Did you hear, Lady Sansa?” that voice mocked from the gilded throne. She imagined the sharp edges of the conquered swords slashing into Joffrey as they said King Maegor had died. She imagined pushing him back onto the blades herself and quickly pushed these thoughts behind her carefully, constructed mask, glad she was still kneeling and had yet to look up. 

“Your grace?” she asked, keeping her voice meek and low. 

“I asked if you had heard, Lady Sansa, of the great news that has reached us?” Joffrey mocked her as he stood from the throne. 

“I have not, Your Grace? Would you please be so kind as to honor me with this great news?” she responded, keeping all inflection out of her voice. What else could he do? Her father was dead, her brother and mother murdered, as well as Rickon and Bran. She had been married to Tyrion Lannister who seemed to think it such a great kindness that he would not take the maidenhood of a barely grown girl. 

What else could he do to her? 

“Your brother...Snow, was it? The bastard of your father? He has left the wall and forgone giving his vow to the night’s watch. My man says that he did not swear, but I don’t think I believe him. I’ve sent word North that anyone who finds him shall win their weight in gold and an empty northern keep for their own if they bring me his head. I shall give it to you as a gift once the dwarf begets a child on you,” Joffrey leaned down and wrapped his hand in her hair and pulled her head back to stare into her eyes as he whispered. 

“Or when I fuck one in to your cold cunt. One moon, traitor’s seed, do I give him to put a babe in your belly. If he does not then I will slip in one night and do the job for him.” 

Sansa made herself shiver as if in fear before responding with a simple, “Yes, your grace.” 

Joffrey sneered at her and turned away to make the climb back to his seat. 

“This traitor is fowling my air. Remove my...aunt...from the court,” he said offhandedly and Sansa stood and made one more quick dip before fleeing. 

Upon making it to the Godswood, Sansa ignored her handmaid's who walked behind her, or the shadowing presence of the Lannister men and went straight into prayer at the base of the tree. She kneeled into the roots and placed her hand upon the bark. 

Please. My mother’s gods have forsaken me and my father’s are all I have left. Wherever Jon is, please keep him safe. I will offer anything, just keep the last of my blood safe. 

Time passed and when she felt the warmth of the setting sun move on her body, she stood and brushed her skirts off. The ladies had long since left her and her guards had changed. She made her way back into the keep and to her quarters with Tyrion. 

Not that he would be inside of them. Tyrion had left two days prior to travel to Casterly Rock and back on his father’s order. Upon entering she started to ring for a maid to help her uncloth, but a shadow shifted behind her changing screen. She opened her mouth to scream, but suddenly a man was in front of her and for a moment in her confusion she thought her father stood there. 

Then her vision cleared and she gasped, “Jon?”

“Sansa,” her lost brother whispered, almost reverently and reached out to cup her cheek and brush her hair back from her face. His eyes followed down and she knew the moment he saw the lashes that peaked out of her dress at her nape and shoulders. Ser Payne had been particularly bad at aiming in the last few moons. 

Jon gently laid a hand upon them and pulled her to his chest, “I’m so sorry, Sansa, that I was unable to be here before now. I...I was at the wall and I learned some things and then I was away looking for allies. I thought there would be time...Robb was winning and my allies were not particularly happy about entering in the war until we had more support.”

Sansa was not sure who Jon could have drummed up as support, but Dorne was a possibility. They had always wondered if Jon was the son of a Dornish noblewoman, even Ashara Dayne for all they said her son had died. 

A noise from outside her doors brought her back to the present and out of her mind’s wondering. 

“We need to go, Sansa,” Jon said as he stepped back from her. 

“Where? The entrance to my room is guarded,” she answered back, fear setting inside of her. 

Jon laughed, “We are not going out the door, sweetling. We are going through the tunnels.”

“Tunnels? What tunnels?” Sansa whispered even as Jon moved to a tapestry that she realized was already displaced. Then he was slipping his fingers between two stones and pulling it out. Suddenly a low grinding noise of rock upon smoothed stone was heard and a doorway appeared. 

Jon held his hand out to her and she grasped tight as he led her forward. Stopping only momentarily to lift a torch that was in a sconce in the dark tunnel. He handed it to her and did some shuffling to close the entrance again. Then he took the torch back and led her forward. 

“Where are we going,” she whispered as they moved quickly and quietly. She was unsure of where else they passed as they climbed downward on a staircase that had to be where the wall widened at the base of the kitchen keep at which the top was her and Tyrion’s quarters. 

Jon pulled her closer as the tunnel narrowed into a long hall. 

“We will be passing into a cavern below the throne room. It is the only room from what my contact has said that the Lannister’s discovered from the Targaryen’s. It’s where Robert Baratheon was convinced to place the dragon heads. Then we will go down another tunnel that will lead us to a small strip of land and water. A boat and an ally with the ability to take us through the bay to a ship waiting for us will be there,” Jon explained and it was now that she realized something odd about his clothes. 

He was wearing black as she would have thought a man of the watch would, but it was not the rough leathers and ruffled fur she’d seen her Uncle where on his trips home from the wall. It was shining in its richness, layered and thick, with red threading throughout. The armor that was beneath his cloak glistened like the blackest metal she had ever seen forged and red rubies adorned something she could not quite make out. 

Reaching forward she brushed the cloak from his chest and her breath caught as the three headed dragon appeared. 

“Jon…” she began hesitantly. 

Jon leaned down and kissed her forehead, before standing and cupping her chin as he spoke, “My father named me Aemon Targaryen and my mother begged my uncle, your father, to protect me from Robert Baratheon. Almost twelve moons ago, Aemon Targaryen, maester at the wall recognized the tone in my voice and the features of my father in my face. He discretely requested a search at the Citadel and two moons later, riders came with documentation of my parents marriage and my birth. Three moons ago, inside the sept on Dragonstone, loyalists gathered and declared me Aemon, first of my name, and King of Westeros. When we sail from King’s Landing, it is only to join with the rest of our allies. We do not have enough to take the bay and the city, but we have enough to block supplies in and out. Our army will eventually surround the city. Now that Tywin Lannister and the majority of his major allies are in residence for the royal wedding, we will never have a better opportunity.” 

Sansa was quiet and easily began to follow him again as the words circled in her mind. Jon had always been kind to her. Kind, brave, strong, and true. Her father’s words came back to her. 

“Sweet one,” her father said gently, “listen to me. When you’re old enough, I will make you a match with a high lord who’s worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong. This match with Joffrey was a terrible mistake. That boy is no Prince Aemon, you must believe me.” 

There was a bright light ahead and Sansa watched as Jon drew his sword and pressed Sansa behind him. They stepped slowly into the large, cavernous room that Sansa knew was where her sister had often hid. Arya had talked about the large dragon heads that dominated the room for days after her discovery. 

Beside the largest of them, Varys stood. Sansa tensed up, but Jon gave her hand a squeeze in support. 

“Your Grace, Your Royal Highness, Lord Seaworth is ready. We must be away before the chance that someone realizes the princess is missing,” the master of whisperer’s said and began to lead them through another tunnel. 

Sansa found herself introspective about the idea that she was being referred to as a princess. 

She supposed it meant that Jon recognized Robb as a King. 

“He named me his heir in his will,” Jon said quietly as they climbed wet, oddly spaced stairs, “It took moons to convince the northern lords to follow me after I admitted my heritage. Winterfell has already been secured and returned to the Starks. The House of Bolton has fallen. There are many things that will surprise you in the coming time, but Rickon and Bran survived. Theon lied about their death. I have named Rickon as Lord of Winterfell and Lord Manderly is acting as his regent.” 

Sansa hummed in approval, but thought it odd they accepted Jon, when two sons of Ned Stark were alive. The only way they would have agreed is if Jon had agreed to do something to strengthen their loyalty and suddenly Sansa knew what they had demanded. 

Rhaegar was a fool with his affection, if that is what it was, but he did elevate a Stark daughter to one day be a Queen. The only thing that would assuage the Northern pride and offer them enough stability to be a part of the seven kingdoms was if there was another Stark Queen and this time, one that would beget the heir to the iron throne in the open. 

“Marriage. They have demanded we marry for their cooperation. You agreed?” Sansa hesitantly asked as they stepped from the darker tunnel and into the night air. She watched the conflicted emotions cross his face. 

“Yes, but only if you wished to be my queen. If you do not, then I will take a Northern bride of their choice and you will be the regent of Winterfell until Rickon is of an age to be the warden,” Jon responded simply. 

Someone brave and gentle and strong. 

The words echoed in her mind again as they finally reached a small rowboat with a man aboard. He reached out and helped Sansa into the boat and Jon climbed in after her after a few words with Varys. 

“You will leave in plenty of time to avoid being caught in the siege. Do you understand me, Lord Varys?” Jon was saying quietly as the man tittered and agreed. He walked away as the man began rowing away. 

Jon reached down and began to help. 

Sansa tilted her head and watched him carefully, knowing that her silence was probably not helping Jon’s state of mind. She’d never really given thought to Jon as anything but a person who shared a miniscule amount of blood and caused her mother shame. It was not his fault and she understood that now in way she had been woefully unprepared to do before the summer child of her youth was discarded for the cynical reality of the world. 

Still...Targaryen or not, Jon had always been everything her father desired for her in a match. The only difference being that she had not known of his high birth at childhood and he had supposedly been her brother. 

Cousins, though...cousins could marry. It was highly likely had the war gone another way and the North had stood with Lyanna, then it was likely Sansa would have been betrothed at birth to Jon...Aemon. 

“Do you prefer Aemon now?” she blurted out and couldn’t help the twitch her lips made in an effort to smile when Jon burst out laughing at the first words she decided the share after the shock. 

“Nay. Please just keep to Jon. It’s hard enough remembering to answer to the Lords and Ladies of my allies, nevertheless my...cousin,” Jon finally answered. 

They were quiet for a time as Sansa watched the stars appear and because too shine in the night sky. Using the little knowledge she could remember from her younger years, Sansa found the wolfstar and it made her feel safe for a very small moment. 

As the night stars shined, they made way to a large ship outside of the bay in the darkest part of the night. The hour of the wolf, Sansa thought with an odd sense of satisfaction. Jon reached down and helped haul her up on the deck. Sansa found herself quickly leaning in to her cousin. 

“See there, Sansa?” Jon whispered as he pointed to the wolfstar. She nodded her head. 

“Every night as the stars come out, we make our heading and set our course by the wolfstar. It leads us North and regardless of where we are, it will always take us home and it will always be a part of the north,” he said solemnly. 

Sansa stared up at the sky and then at him again. Standing on her tiptoes, she pressed a kiss to his mouth. A small, fleeting thing, but one that left him staring down at her in surprise and serious. 

She laughed softly, “I thought perhaps it might be alright if I kissed my betrothed, the King.”

She abruptly stopped laughing when he took her lips again, this time in a longer and deeper kiss. He leaned his forehead against hers after releasing her lips. 

“You may kiss me anytime you like, sweetling, but certainly always under the stars,” he whispered to her and Sansa felt her heart swell with something she had thought lost. 

Hope. 

[stardancerluv]

Unlikely Delights

Part Two

Summary: Reader tries to “run into” Dan again, will it work out?

Warning: establishing age!gap, Dan mid 30’s Reader 21, 22

Note: It’s about Novemberish...they met in September. Reader and Dan have been running into each other a handful of times.

It was bitter cold today. “Billy remind me again why we didn’t tie the tarps around the buildings last week when it was in the fifties?” Dan grumbled

“Because the weather was supposed to hold.”

“Right.” Dan shook his head and pulled down on the cord and fastened it down.

“At least its not snowing yet.” Billy peered around his side of the small pharmacy.

“True, oh Tammy we got this. It is too cold out here. We’ll clean and do the rest?”

Tammy, smiled tucking some blond hair behind her ear. “Are you sure Mr. Torrance, Mr. Freeman? I finished my homework.”

Dan nodded but raised an eyebrow. “Dan, please.” But he smiled. “Yes, sweetheart we got this. Gone and enjoy your free time.”

She shifted where she stood. Billy stood up and echoed Dan’s nod. “Yes, go on little lady we got this. And yeah, Billy please. I don’t want to feel older then I am.”

She smiled brightly. “Ok. Have a good one, Dan and Billy.” Tammy waved, grabbing her bike that leaned against one of the oaks hopped on and rode off.

“She’s such a good kid.”

Billy nodded. “Yeah. Good kid, good family.”

“Yeah.” Dan sighed as he eyed the rest of the layout, “The clock tower or the church next?”

“Let’s get the clock tower, its such a pain in the ass.” Billy complained.

“It certainly is that.” He paused. “Hey Billy wanna hit the diner for dinner tonight.”

“Sure.” Billy shrugged.

“I’m so glad I’m off from the hospice tonight and I am in no mood to cook.”

“I hear that.”

*****

You were eyeing your phone. Class was over five minutes ago. The professor was just droning on and on, all because of the three day weekend.

Finally! You excitedly thought, you practically rocketed out of your seat. You pulled on your coat, and almost strangled yourself with how fast you tied your scarf. You rolled your eyes at how silly you were but all you could think about was Dan.

You really hoped you could catch him at teeny town. Today was when they were closing it for the winter. After that, you didn’t know how you were exactly going to run into him. Maybe today you could suggest coffee or something.

“Y/N are you coming to the party tonight?”

“Oh, hey Jen I’m not sure. I’ll call you.”

You walked fast out of classroom then the building. The coldness of outside hit you hard and you shivered, but the thought of possibly catching Dan made butterflies appear in your tummy. It was three blocks to Teeny Town, you could make it.

*****

“Alright, let’s now get to the rest of it.” Dan rubbed his hands together.

Together they unraveled the drop cloth and then stretched it good and tight. As he did and pulled it down then he paused.

Warmth filled him as he felt you. You were close. You were such a breath of fresh air, you were like the sun. His heart had picked up knowing, he’d see you. These last two months of little chats and encounters had always left him wanting a little more. You never failed to make him smile.

“Dan, Dan did you tie it?”

“Oh.” Dan chuckled. “Sorry got distracted.”

Billy laughed. “It’s alright Danno. Pull and tie.”

He did and then fastened it down. Eyeing the knot he made, he cleared his mind and himself be surprised your arrival.

“Guess who?” Two very soft and dainty hands covered his eyes. He let out a loud gasp.

*****

You had made it, a smile spread wide across your face. You calmed your breathing. That would be a dead give away. You had to be cool.

You eyed his soft dark strands, the curve of his cheek, which had the shadow of growth. Clean shaven, goatee or full on beard it had all looked great on him.

Walking over on small steps, you crept up behind him. With your heart racing you put your hands over his eyes.

“Guess who?”

His warm, pleasantly rough yet smooth hands covered yours. “Who could it be? Oh I know Janice from the diner are you bringing me a piece of pie?”

“Nope.”

Billy popped his head up and smiled and shook his head.

“One more guess!” You said cheerfully.

“Oh! I know. Abra! Does my sister know you’re here?”

You giggled. “No! It’s me silly.” You stood back to give him room to stand up.

He stood up and dusted his knees off. “Oh, hi there Y/N, I could have sworn you were my niece.”

“Oh Dan!” You just smiled and rolled your eyes. Gently you pushed him. “I’m so sure!”

He reached out and grabbed the ends of your scarf, he gently tugged on it. “Remember when your hair was this colorful?”

“I do.” He didn’t immediately let go of your scarf. “Maybe I will do it again soon.

“Hi Y/N!” Billy came around and Dan let go of your scarf.

“Hi Billy.” You said sweetly.

You stuffed your hands into your pockets.

“You must be cold.” Dan looked around, and gave you a soft smile.

“I’m fine.” You fibbed but couldn’t hide the shiver.

He stepped closer and rubbed one of your arms. The butterflies in your stomach went into a frenzy.

“Billy and I are going to catch dinner tonight at the diner.” He pressed his lips together, running his fingers through his hair. “Why don’t you meet us there, get a table and warm up.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded and gave your arm a squeeze. “Unless you have to go to help at the boutique?”

You shook your head. “No! I have the entire three day weekend off!” You said happily.

He smiled and your heart squeezed, as the butterflies stopped and turned entire flock of birds flapping their wings inside of you. “Fantastic! I have tonight off too.”

“Great! Ok, I’ll go grab us all a table.”

*****

“Dan?”

“What?” Dan, had not been able to wipe the grin off his lips as they finished up.

“Umm, you were grumpy and cold, well now...” His voice trailed off.

Dan nudged his friend in the shoulder. “She’s cute.”

“She is, she twinkles when she looks at you.”

“Does she?” Dan stopped.

“Yeah buddy. But Dan, she’s young.”

Dan sighed. “She is but she’s not a kid. I don’t know. I..” Now it was time his voice trailed off.

“True. Just be careful.”

Dan rose eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Billy shrugged. “You are a bit of heart breaker.”

“Two girlfriends and a few dates does not make me a heart breaker. And Janice is happily engaged now.”

“Yes, but still moony over you.”

Dan shook his head. “She is not.”

“She is too.” Billy stopped. “Alright just don’t let her be the reason why you get back on the bus.”

“Billy! Seriously?”

“I had to say it. She seems like the one that could really be something.”

“You think so.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “I worry about you.”

He nudged his friend again. “Billy, I’m not going anywhere. My family is here, Abra would probably kill me.” He chuckled. “And my best friend is too.” He eyed Billy.

“Oh, don’t be sentimental.” Billy replied dryly.

“Well, its true.”

“Thanks pal. Alright, as your best pal of course, I’m going to worry.”

“Thank you. But I think it will be ok. I have a good feeling.”

“Ok, good. You are happier since that first hug.”

“I am.” Dan chuckled and pushed open the door to the diner.”

*****

You glanced back as you walked away. You couldn’t help notice Dan was still smiling, that certainly brought a spring to your step.

Once in the diner, you began to warm. Dan had certainly been right about that. You shrugged out of your coat and scarf.

While you waited you had switched where you sat twice. You were so nervous. Then you tried sitting as differently as you could after finally settling on what side you sit on.

“Water, honey?” Asked the warm voice of the waitress.

“Yes, please. Three.”

“Three?”

“I have some friends joining me.”

“Oh ok! Great. I’ll bring those over.”

Hearing, the rich sound of Dan’s laughter made nervously open and close your hands under the table. You could do this and not be completely silly.

Turning, where you sat you smiled and waved. “I’m over here!” You called.

@hollow-r-us @mrskenobi19 @i-cant-hear-you16 @thebeckyjolene

[ibijau]

part 11 of the Nomad Nie AU // On AO3

As winter settles in, Lan Xichen and Huaisang hear concerning news coming from the other Nie camp.

Huaisang and Lan Xichen, both usually early risers, ended up oversleeping the next morning, and didn't stir until Meng Yao called them from outside, asking if they were alright. 

“Don’t wanna get up today,” Huaisang grumbled in a low voice, nuzzling against Lan Xichen’s chest. “Tell him to go away. We’re staying here today.”

It was a tempting suggestion, certainly, but Lan Xichen still told Meng Yao that everything was fine, and they just needed a little time to get ready. This earned him a betrayed glare from Nie Huaisang.

“What happened to wanting to be taken seriously as a responsible adult?” Lan Xichen teased him.

“Boring,” Huaisang yawned. “I don’t care anymore. Just want to stay here and make love all day.”

Lan Xichen laughed, and though the proposition was quite attractive, he still extricated himself from his husband’s embrace and started getting ready for the day. Huaisang complained at length, calling Lan Xichen cruel and unfeeling, but in the end he also washed quickly and got dressed.

“You’ll pay for this,” Huaisang said as they left the ger, pretending to be cross. He would have been more believable if he hadn’t immediately stolen a kiss from Lan Xichen, before heading off to see if Zonghui needed his help with anything. Lan Xichen’s eyes followed him a moment before finally turned to acknowledge Meng Yao, nodding at him.

Meng Yao didn’t return the greeting, nor react in any way. His entire attention was on Lan Xichen’s neck, his expression tight, almost pained. Lan Xichen first thought that, having dressed a little quickly and while distracted, he might not have been as neat as he preferred to be. Indeed, when he brought his hand up, he found his collar to be completely crooked, exposing far more skin than would have been proper. It wouldn't be so bad, except… 

Last night, Lan Xichen had been very careful with his husband, trying not to leave any marks on him since they would take so long to disappear. Huaisang had had no such qualms, kissing, biting, and sucking at every bit of skin he could reach. Lan Xichen had felt no reason to complain at that moment and still wouldn't, except for Meng Yao looking at him as if he were bleeding to death rather than marked by a few loving bruises. 

"I guess Huaisang got his way after all," Meng Yao said, his tone so severe that it dampened Lan Xichen's joy. 

Embarrassed to have accidentally put on display the signs of his marital activities, Lan Xichen silently nodded while trying to put more order to his clothes. At least only Meng Yao had seen him, who was his friend. If it had been one of the Nie, he would have been teased to death for sure. They were rather more relaxed with joking about these things than Lan Xichen preferred. 

“So in the end, the Khan was the only thing protecting you,” Meng Yao noted with a slight grimace of disgust.

“He certainly was in the way,” Lan Xichen mused, blushing again as he looked away. Even though things were getting better with his brother-in-law, he was in no hurry to see him come back. Privacy was a very nice thing to have. Lan Xichen then looked back at Meng Yao and noticed his friend’s horrified look. He felt first ashamed for even discussing such things at all, then upset about feeling ashamed. “You know, we are married,” he pointed out to Meng Yao, trying not to be hurt that his friend was apparently the sort to be disgusted by intimacy between men. “Of course something like this was bound to happen sooner or later. I hope you don’t think less of me for it.”

“Of course not! Lan gongzi, we are friends, no matter what!” Meng Yao exclaimed, reaching for his hands and squeezing them gently. “And I understand, in this situation… it can’t be avoided. Even someone like Huaisang has needs.”

Lan Xichen nodded, his face burning as he thought that Huaisang definitely wasn’t the only one with needs. If they hadn't had other obligations, he would have enthusiastically taken Huaisang’s offer to stay the day in bed. He kept that thought to himself, and quickly changed the subject. Meng Yao still looked worried for a while, and only reluctantly let go of his hands. They went on about their business for the rest of the morning without mentioning this again, but Lan Xichen thought he could feel the disappointment and pity of his friend the entire time. 

After a brief lunch, Lan Xichen ended up spending the afternoon with Zonghui and those of the young men who hadn't left with Mingjue. He was becoming rather proficient with a blade, he liked to think. Not quite yet to the level of the nomads, and he wouldn't get there for a while longer, but Zonghui thought he had potential and insisted that he start carrying his sword around everywhere he went, like the rest of them. 

"In case you want to play with wolves again," a boy remarked, triggering a few laughs. 

Lan Xichen accepted the sword with perhaps more gratefulness that such a blade deserved, when Zonghui himself conceded it was of inferior quality and the only thing he could spare at the moment. Lan Xichen was in an emotional sort of mood, and so felt touched by that mark of acceptance from the Nie. 

After a while, Huaisang and Meng Yao came to watch them train, chatting together like old friends. It comforted Lan Xichen a little to see that whatever Meng Yao’s opinion was toward men who cut their sleeves, at least he wasn’t letting it damage his friendships. Of course Meng Yao still looked uncomfortable when Lan Xichen and Huaisang retired for the night, but he was clearly making an effort, and that was what mattered.

-

The days that followed were peaceful enough. Lan Xichen kept busy helping around while there was light, then returned to the ger when it got dark again to enjoy his husband’s company. With nothing but moonlight to illuminate the ger, Lan Xichen found it difficult to give the painting lessons he so wanted to share with Huaisang. The most they could do was for Huaisang to practice holding an empty brush by pretending to trace shapes on paper so he could get used to the gesture. Lan Xichen thought he had some skill for this sort of things, but of course it was difficult to know when they were both hesitant to waste what little ink and paper they had. Besides, those lessons always ended up rather short lived, because when Lan Xichen pressed himself against Huaisang’s back to hold his wrist and guide him, brushwork soon became the last thing on their mind.

Lan Xichen told himself that they were just trying to make the best of things before Mingjue returned and they had to return to their previous lack of intimacy. It was a perfectly valid excuse to behave a little lasciviously… though even when they learned that Mingjue might be gone all winter, it didn’t quite calm down their ardour.

The news came one afternoon. Lan Xichen was checking on the cattle when a rider arrived from the other camp, and thus missed the messenger entirely. Huaisang had to share the news with him that evening, when the man had already left again to let the Khan know his family had been informed he would remain absent. By then, a certain gloom at fallen upon the entire camp, and not without reason.

To everyone’s shock and surprise, Wen riders had been spotted coming worryingly close to the other camp, which was situated closer to the border with their territory. Since that camp was only used in that season, and the Wen had never yet dared break the winter truce, that unfortunate location had never been considered a problem before. Now though, the Khan had some real fear the camp might be attacked as soon as the weather improved in early spring, or even during the cold of winter itself, should the Wen spit on all their traditions.

“Would they really?” Lan Xichen asked his husband that night when they were alone in the ger, hiding together under heavy furs. For the first time since Nie Mingjue had left, neither of them was in the mood to make love, but Huaisang still asked to be held close, and that was something Lan Xichen would never have refused him, least of all when he too felt worried.

Huaisang shrugged. “Ruohan is a dangerous man,” he said. "His sons are hungry for power, and so is he. Maybe they would really fall that low. I spoke with Zonghui," he added with a deep, weary sigh. "He says next year, we will probably move the other camp somewhere safer."

"You don't seem happy about that." 

"I'm not. It's difficult to find a good spot," Huaisang explained. "It needs good grass, stable ground, decent weather, and all this close to our camp. Mingjue will be busy with that all summer, unless we can inflict them a strong enough defeat that they stay hidden a year or two." 

Unsure what to say, Lan Xichen pressed a kiss to his husband’s forehead. He had never seen war outside of history books. But of course, his life with the Nie had been full of new experiences, and he knew raids were part of the ordinary for them.

The idea of a war terrified him. He didn’t think he’d be forced to take part in a raid, not even if his skill with a blade improved, but staying behind with Huaisang wouldn’t be without risk either. They could be attacked, and would have to defend themselves. Lan Xichen might have to find out if he was the sort of person who could kill others, something he would surely never have wondered about himself if he’d stayed home. Worse still, he thought he already knew the answer. If someone threatened Huaisang, or even Meng Yao…

Lan Xichen shivered at the thought. Huaisang felt it, and pressed himself harder against him, holding him close.

“It’ll be fine,” Huaisang claimed with absolute confidence. “Mingjue is a great warrior. He’ll protect us all. He’ll protect the other camp until the snows melt, and then in spring he will call the other clans, tell them about the Wen, and we’ll deal with them for good.”

Lan Xichen smiled at his husband’s assurance, but remained so anxious that he barely slept that night.

In the days after learning of the threats against the other camp, everyone acted a little more nervously. Zonghui made every young men and women prepare for battle, in case they should be urgently called to help their relatives, or if the Wen decided to be particularly foolish and attack this place instead. Everyone thought it unlikely, since they were so far from Wen territories, but unlikely didn't mean impossible. The herds were kept under closer surveillance than usual as well, especially after one night, a few horses disappeared. There was some worry about wolves for a while, or thieves, but thankfully the horses eventually returned, all except Meng Yao’s own mount. The young man was quite distraught about that turn of event, and even asked to be allowed to go look for it, but Zonghui refused. The Khan would never have accepted to let Meng Yao ride out alone, and they couldn’t spare anyone to go with him.

“This spring, I’ll pick another horse for you,” Huaisang promised Meng Yao to comfort him. “A strong but gentle one, perfect for you!”

Meng Yao smiled sadly at those words, as if doubting such a thing would happen. Lan Xichen thought that perhaps his friend believed the Khan would refuse him such a privilege, since he was always ready to expect the worst from Mingjue… but if Huaisang had started proving he was trustworthy, surely the same could be accomplished for Meng Yao, Lan Xichen decided.

Perhaps one day they would all four of them get along and be on friendly terms.

In the midst of so much danger, Lan Xichen found comfort in that hopeful thought.

-

Lan Xichen woke with a start. It was dark inside the ger, and it took him a moment to notice a silhouette hovering above him, hands on his shoulders. It couldn’t be Huaisang, he felt the weight of his husband’s head on his chest, and no one else had any right to be inside their home in the middle of the night. Lan Xichen opened his mouth, ready to shout for help, but a hand pressed hard against his lips to silence him.

“Lan gongzi, it’s me,” a familiar voice urgently whispered. “I need to talk to you, but we have to be quiet.”

Having heard his voice, Lan Xichen started to recognise Meng Yao in that silhouette. He nodded slowly, and Meng Yao removed his hand.

“Can’t it wait until morning?” Lan Xichen yawned.

“No, there’d be too much risk of being heard. Please, Lan gongzi. You know I wouldn’t bother you at this hour unless it’s important.”

Lan Xichen nodded again. Meng Yao was always considerate of those around him, trying to avoid causing any disturbance for fear it would finally ruin what little goodwill the Nie still held for him. If he was there, it had to be important.

“I’ll wait for you outside, please hurry,” Meng Yao begged before leaving the ger.

Much as Lan Xichen tried to hurry, it was not easy to get out. Huaisang didn’t wake up, but it was a near thing when his living pillow started moving, and it took Lan Xichen great effort to extricate himself from his husband’s embrace. Even when he managed, Huaisang whined weakly at the loss of warmth and started blindly reaching out for him in his sleep. If not for Meng Yao waiting outside, Lan Xichen would just have laid down again and pulled his husband in his arms. Instead, he hurriedly dressed up and joined his friend outside, hoping there was a good reason for this.

With only a few days left to the new moon there was little light outside, yet even like this Lan Xichen, finally starting to wake up, could only notice how anxious Meng Yao looked. His friend made them both sit in the snow, in the ger's doorway, and kept glancing around, as if fearing to be discovered.

“Did something happen?” Lan Xichen asked with a yawn he couldn’t quite refrain.

“It’s less something that has happened,” Meng Yao explained, “and more something that is about to happen. I know for sure, now that they sent back the horses like agreed. And I hesitated so much to tell you… but in the end, I thought you might need the time to prepare.”

“Prepare for what?”

Meng Yao wringed his hands and glanced first behind himself, inside the ger where Huaisang still slept, then over Lan Xichen’s shoulders toward the rest of the silent camp.

“Lan gongzi, you’re a practical man, just like me,” Meng Yao said with a weak smile. “We’ve both done our best to survive here, of course, but… surely you must long for home as much as I do? You must wish you could go back and put everything the Nie did to you behind you?”

“I’m…”

“Maybe you even want revenge for what you’ve been made to suffer?” Meng Yao insisted, taking Lan Xichen’s hands in his. “I thought my situation was bad, but then what they did to you, forcing you to submit to a brat like Huaisang… I swear, I would have stabbed him in the throat for tainting your honour like this, night after night, if only it wouldn’t have ruined everything else!”

Feeling completely awake now, Lan Xichen shivered from more than the cold. To hear dear, kind, sweet Meng Yao speak so viciously of killing Huaisang was a shock, yet Lan Xichen forced himself not to react, wondering how much it would take for that sudden hatred to turn against him. 

“What’s ‘everything else’?” he asked, as calmly as he could, while pulling his hands away from meng Yao's. 

Meng Yao grimaced, his eyes darting around before he leaned closer.

“Lan gongzi, our ordeal will soon be over,” he confided in a whisper. “I made a deal with the Wen a while ago, when the Khan’s anger made me try to run for my life. I happened upon their king, and found an ally in him.  We agreed that I was to warn them when there would be a good opportunity to attack, using certain signals we came up with. I’d hoped to push Huaisang to rebel so the Nie would be weakened, but he’s just too stupid to stand against his brother’s tyrany and I was starting to get hopeless when you arrived and changed everything. If you hadn’t helped me… I would never have been able to convince Huaisang to be more reliable, it was a stroke of genius. The Khan would never have divided his forces so much before, and now he won’t be here when this camp is attacked. He's going to lose half his people when the Wen strike en masse!”

Lan Xichen’s heart sped inside his chest. It took every bit of self control he had not to shout at what his friend, their friend, was telling him.

“A very bold plan, Meng gongzi,” he whispered. “And the Wen are to take us home when they’re done dealing with the Nie, I assume?”

Meng Yao nodded, a cruel smile of triumph deforming his usually mild face.

“I’ve been promised that we will be taken back to the border, and those barbarians hold their promises to be sacred” Meng Yao explained, as if not remembering that the winter truce was also meant to be sacred. “Then it’ll just be a matter of contacting my father. He’ll be delighted when I tell him that the nomads are in disarray! He is great friend with a general who is a personal friend of the emperor. Once they're all weakened by infighting, the imperial troops can swoop in, those nomads will all be destroyed before next winter, and nobody will have to fear anything when travelling.”

“You’re doing all this for your father?” Lan Xichen mumbled.

“He will recognise me if I manage this,” Meng Yao feverishly confirmed, beaming at the thought. “He told me as much before leaving me here. And I have managed it now, or will soon, all thanks to you. You have my eternal gratitude, Lan gongzi.”

Half a day earlier, Lan Xichen would have smiled at a declaration of gratitude, and reminded Meng Yao that they were friends, that it was only natural for them to help each other. Now though, realising in what danger the Nie clan was, and being told he would bear his share of the blame in the bloodbath that was to come, Lan Xichen felt nothing but disgust for the man he had so recently called his dearest friend. All he wanted was to get as much information as possible on this coming attack, and wake Huaisang to warn him of the danger. 

“Do you know when they will attack?” Lan Xichen asked, trying to sound uncaring but unable to keep his voice from trembling.

“The agreement was I would send a group of horses running toward them,” Meng Yao explained, “and they would return all of them save my own to signify they’re ready to attack on the night of the next new moon. That way, they’re less likely to be spotted. I’m thinking we could offer ourselves for watch duty anyway. Huaisang and Zonghui trust you enough for this, it’ll be easy to…”

Before Meng Yao could finish that thought, Huaisang jumped out of the ger holding a metal ladle which he swung at the back of Meng Yao’s head with enough force for him to collapse. Lan Xichen stared a moment at the motionless body of his friend, shocked by the speed of that attack, by the bloody indent on his skull when he’d never known Huaisang to be capable of violence. When he turned his eyes to Huaisang, Lan Xichen found his husband glaring at him, the ladle stained with blood already raised again, ready to strike another time if necessary.

“It was all a lie then?” Huaisang hissed, tears glistening on his cheeks as he waved the ladle in threat. “All this time, you were just lying to kill Mingjue and me?”

[thebibliomancer]

Tides of the Dark Crystal liveblog pt 3

Tides of the Dark Crystal by J.M. Lee because I want the answer to Amri’s question. Don’t you?

Last time on book: The dream team of Naia, Spider-Tavra, Kylan, and Amri have gone to Tavra’s friend(?) Onica to get the lay of the land after Kylan shotgunned exposition petals all over Ha’rar. Onica used her Far-Dreaming to let the team see the Vapran and All-Maudra’s reaction to all of those petals. Then on Amri’s turn, he asked the entire planet Thra how they can beat the Skeksis.

Chapter 3

Weirdness on either side, Chamberlain in the middle

The answer to Amri’s question was a wall.

Well. Thanks for that, Thra.

It’s a bit of a weird vision. Amri actually feels like he’s himself, not as a petal or peeping through another Gelfling. Just an Amri standing alone in an infinite dark void, with a stone wall in the middle of it.

Amri sighed. Of course this would happen. The first thing he shouted out to Thra was to ask it how to defeat the Skeksis. If Thra cared about the Gelfling, and knew what to do, then wouldn’t it have told them already?

In fairness, Amri. Maybe your question broke the planet? Maybe you logic bombed the entire world.

Or to be less mean, the planet is sick with the Darkening. So maybe it can’t give a straight answer. Aside of a wall in a void.

Then the wall catches on fire.

The fire had engulfed the wall, but where it had been reavenous and red, it was now blue as the midnight sky. The wall itself had crumbled in places from the teeth of the fire, and where the rock had fallen away, Amri saw shining light. Crystal veins, white as starlight, bared as the wall crumbled, bit by bit. And revealed in the light of the crystal were words. Images. Figures...

Then he was back on the boat, his hands clammy against Onica’s and Naia’s.

I hope Onica has a book about interpreting dreams.

Although, blue fire. Wasn’t that the fire skype that the Dual Glaive did in the show?

The flower petals already kinda took their role as the thing that communicates to all Gelfling so, yeah, this is an abstract dream.

Onica, explain!

She doesn’t though. She just tells Naia to go ahead and ask her question.

Half not surprisingly and half not, her question is “Please, tell us where we can find Rian.”

It makes sense but also, its weird that she doesn’t ask instead about Gurjin.

It sure is more handy for the plot that she asked about Rian because they get a village of a Skeksis carriage drawn by rolling armalig slug racing through the snow. Whether its inhabitants are laughing all the way ho ho ho ho is not shared.

Amri realizes that they’re seeing a vision of now and somewhere pretty close by actually! They passed through that snowy area on their way to Onica’s Exposition Hut.

Hm. Always interesting what commonalities there are between the show and the YA books despite the very different courses they take. They’re both going to have a Rian Chamberlain carriage rescue scene although the location and presumably the context is gonna be different.

Naia rushes out ahead because rushing out ahead is what Naia is best at. Amri, Kylan, and Tavra soon follow, but Tavra asks Onica to wait here in case they need a place to hide.

Just gals being pals, doing crimes, hiding fugitives.

While poor Kylan has to take the long path, Amri just starts climbing up the sheer rock wall, even with the sandals slowing him down.

Amri actually manages to catch up to Naia although they wind up on different ridges on different sides of the trail.

Naia being Naia, she just jumps off the ridge, onto the carriage, and goes through the canopy.

A Skeksis scream curdled the air, high-pitched and nasal. A moment later, Naia and another Gelfling crashed through one of the carriage windows. The carriage tipped, the armalgis squealing in distress at the disturbance.

Oh my god.

Imagine being Chamberlain. Probably sitting in a carriage and psychologically breaking Rian because his sensitive soldier brain is no match for your words words words. When an angry Naia drops in and starts waving a dagger around.

No wonder he screm. And now wonder he crashes the carriage into the ravine wall.

Amri wishes again that he had wings making me think hmm but slides down a fallen tree that Tavra points out to him.

“I hope Kylan tells a nice song at my funeral!”

Oh, Amri. I don’t think Kylan knows much more about you than Onica did.

Amri lands in a pile of snow and finds Naia and Rian with his blue streak of hair pulling themselves out of a snow bank.

Rian runs back toward the carriage because he says Chamberlain has the vial. The important plot driving vial. Containing Rian’s liquidated girlfriend.

Out of the carriage, coughing and swearing and spitting, came a Skeksis. He emerged, reptilian snout first, like a black bird from an egg, almost too big for the door. His feather-lined cloak squeezed out, then billowed as he stepped into the snow, rising to his full height. His eyes smoldered beneath his prominent purple brow, black pupils tiny and livid as he cast his gaze upon them.

This is another scene I wish I could have seen in live action puppets. Chamberlain pulling himself out of the crashed carriage.

Rian demands Chamberlain give him the vial, his confidence impressing Amri who wants to curl into a perfect orb and roll under a table when faced with a Skeksis.

The Chamberlain glared, then reached back to fluff the black collar around his neck so it framed his face.

“The vial? The vial? After ruining our carriage -- MY carriage? Stupid Gelfling. Stupid Rian. After all we’ve done for you, you stand there and defy us. Defy me.”

Effrontery! Offense! How dare?!

Naia threatens that they’ll take the vial by force if Chamberlain won’t hand it over, which is pretty gutsy. Even given that she has a sweet metal dagger and Amri has Tavra’s sweet sword that he has no idea how to use.

Chamberlain takes out the vial and threatens to pour our Rian’s girlfriend if they make a move on him.

“You think you can command me?” the Chamberlain asked, a low growl growing in the back of his throat. “You, puny Gelfling? Giving me orders? A Skeksis? One of Twice-Nine? You dare to command me?”

“The Skeksis won’t rule the Gelfling much longer, not once we prove to them what you’ve done,” Naia said, brandishing her dagger. “To the Crystal, and to our people.”

“So hand over the vial before we make an example of you,” Rian said.

And Chamberlain, well, he took exception to that.

Because he is a petty lizarddragonvulture man when he’s in a good mood and he was just in a carriage crash and these Gelflings keep saying words at him.

So he wonders aloud what Vapra tastes like and then chugs Mira goo.

“OH YES. SWEET AND BRIGHT AS SPRING SYRUP! Mmm-MMMM!”

Leave some scenery for the rest of the characters, SkekSil.

So to contextualize the situation, now Chamberlain doesn’t have the thing they wanted from Chamberlain. And he’s all roided up on soul juice. This is not a situation that they want to be in anymore!

“Now,” he said. He threw back his cloak and drew a short, sharp blade, smiling at them with a mouth of razor teeth. “What were you saying about making an example of me?”

Tavra tells Amri to raise his sword and tries to give him really quick sword pointers. But Amri makes a quick decision and hucks the pouch of fire dust that Onica gave him, the spicy coral shavings getting all in SkekSil’s eyes and nose.

Wow, that fire dust Chekov’s gun fired way sooner than I thought it would.

While the Chamberlain drops to his knees and tries to soothe the burn by shoving snow into his eyes and nose, Amri yells to Naia and Rian to run.

Luckily, Rian does, since previously he was paralyzed by unfathomable rage.

The three run and run and run over the hills and through the woods until they can no longer hear Chamberlain.

And then things get weird.

The vertigo returned, and Amri stumbled, then leaned against a tree as the world spun. In every swirl of snow, every spot of shadow, he saw Skeksis faces. Phantoms, rising out of his worst fears. His throat felt tight, locking air out of his lungs.

“I don’t feel great,” he tried to say.

“What’s wrong? What’s --”

Tavra’s voice fell away, and all Amri could hear was... humming. An intense droning, a chant, coming from deep in the earth and high in the heavens at the same time.

Are there Mystics about?

The drone vibration sharpened, and Amri heard words. Coming from the earth. From the stars. From the suns and the moons. It drowned out the cold and the bright light. It chanted in time with Amri’s heart, in time with the pulse of the world. Of Thra.

Oh, hey, is the entire planet returning Amri’s call? Was that wall vision like.... an answering machine?

I have no idea! This has been some odd bookends around an exciting Skeksis encounter.

Just as Amri thinks he recognizes the voice, the world vanishes.

You keep cliffhangering me, chapters in Tides of the Dark Crystal!

[airashisakura]

Pregnancy Diaries

Chapter 4 - A New Dawn

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter3

Rating: General audience

Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke & Haruno Sakura

Summary : A peek into how Sasuke and Sakura spend the last day of the year.

A/N : I've always wanted to write how Sasuke and Sakura had celebrated New Year when they were expecting Sarada. And I must admit this is one of my own fic, which gives me a different level of self satisfaction. It would be unfair, if I don't acknowledge @something-like-air, who gave final touches to make this more beautiful. I wrote the chapter of this series back in 2020, and posted in FFN and AO3. (PS- I didn't have Tumblr back then, so........)

“It's snowing.”

Sasuke heard Sakura’s soft voice mingling with the chilly wind. Sasuke turned back to look at his wife, who was peeking outside. Sasuke had been setting up the twigs to light a fire. It was freezing, and he was trying to warm their shelter — an abandoned shrine — rustic, ancient and not so spacious. Much to Sasuke’s dislike, the shrine’s door was also damaged so that it couldn’t be closed to block wintry winds coming inside. It was the best Sasuke had found within wilderness to protect them from the bone-chilling temperature.

Sakura thought carefully, deciding whether to get out to enjoy the weather. With careful steps, she stepped out of the shrine.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Sakura gasped, holding her cloak closer to body . She scrunched her nose, shivering when the snowflakes touched her skin. It wasn’t like she hadn’t felt delighted by snowfall before, but after the baby started kicking, Sakura’s excitement in everything was doubled.

“Aah,” Sasuke responded, admiring Sakura’s beauty. The pale snow blending with her radiant skin. It was exactly the stark contrast of their dispositions — cold like him and warm like her. He wondered what his child would be like — maybe a perfect blend — soothing yet harbouring a fire inside.

Sasuke turned his attention to his unfinished work. He needed to make a fire - big enough to keep them warm. Channeling the right amount of chakra, he expelled fire to burn the flammable materials. He was confident that winds were not strong enough to extinguish the fire he had made. He checked the shrine again and then sat, leaning on the wall.

He noticed Sakura didn’t mind the chilling temperature and seemed to enjoy the weather — carelessly. Sasuke huffed when Sakura took the liberty of removing her gloves to catch the falling snow.

“You’ll catch a cold.”

Sakura pouted, but she knew keeping herself warm was necessary for the baby too. She scooted near the fire and sat carefully in front of Sasuke. She leaned back against his broad chest, supporting her weight on him and let out a content sigh. “This feels good.”

Sasuke smirked and said nothing. Gradually silence enveloped both of them. They had gotten accustomed with each other while traveling—silence didn't feel icy now; instead it was the warmth they had craved.

Sasuke craned his face to look at Sakura. Her reddened nose and cheeks, the snow intertwined with her pink hair, and her baby bump all amplified her beauty. She was in the sixth month of her pregnancy and her belly had distended more to accommodate the growing baby. He wanted to stay longer like this, but Sakura needed rest after all the trouble they had finding a secure place to spend the winter night.

“You should sleep,” Sasuke said, brushing the snow from her hair.

Sakura hummed in response and rubbed her baby bump gently. She definitely didn’t want to move an inch from her position. Sharing intimate moments wasn’t possible these days, and she didn’t want to ruin this perfect moment. She shifted to a more comfortable position, pressing her body closer to Sasuke’s to get more warmth and comfort. It was a comfort she had once thought wasn’t meant for her. She had always chased Sasuke,  and she had never expected that this year her prayers would be answered.

It was the last day of the year — the year where all her dreams had become reality. Sakura walked through the memories. She recalled the morning she had decided to follow Sasuke in his journey. The afternoon they had sat a little closer while taking a break. The evening when they had first shared a gentle kiss. The night when she had felt Sasuke’s bare skin on hers for the very first time.

The harsh wind roared outside. Sasuke grunted in disappointment when the wind gushed through the open door. The temperature was dropping gradually, and the fire was not keeping them as warm as he had expected.

“You should get inside a blanket. It’s cold here,” Sasuke said, knowing Sakura was freezing, though she was trying her best to snuggle with him.

“But you’re so warm,” Sakura replied, giggling. She was determined not to trade off the present moment just because of some persistent chilly winds and the fatigue from the extra weight of the baby she was carrying

Sasuke almost laughed at Sakura’s reply. Sasuke shifted and unclasped his cloak. Sakura thought Sasuke was planning to put her in the futon, and thus she nagged, wailing like a child who was forced to get into the bed.

“You’re so annoying,” Sasuke reminded her while he wrapped his cloak around her. He couldn't deny how badly he had also missed such moments together.

He smiled wryly when he realized how much his life had changed. He had never cared about the weather. He continued travelling and wasted as little time resting as possible. A lot of times he had spent his entire night without shelter in the same raging weather. He had thought the bitterness of the world had taught him to survive in the worst conditions, that the harshness of winter couldn't affect him. He realised he was wrong. He wasn’t alone anymore, and now that he had the responsibility of taking care of his wife and his child, he too yearned for security.

Sasuke looked outside, watching the falling snow. He realized that his child would be born in spring.

Earlier, when Sakura had joined him, he wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. Days passed and before he could realize it, he had started admiring Sakura’s presence. There were things that he could never have realised and felt if Sakura hadn’t been with him. He hated thinking how he had always pushed her out of his life. After all of the cold dark nights he’d spent alone, Sakura’s warmth felt like a reward for accepting her in his life. He wanted to thank Sakura for everything and so he placed his palm over Sakura's, which was resting on her bump.

Sakura felt Sasuke’s cold fingers threading with hers. Although there were clear signs of exhaustion on her face, she offered him one of her best smiles. This year had brought some big changes in her life, and one of them was the decreased distance between her and Sasuke. Although sometimes she still couldn’t figure out Sasuke, it didn’t feel distant. Sasuke was trying to let his guard down around her, though he couldn’t do it completely — Sakura was happy with his efforts.

Sakura wondered how her younger self would react if she had known about all of this — that after all those years of pain and hopelessness — finally she would have what she wanted. No, not only that — she would thank her if there was a way to meet her — for never giving up on her love.

There was only one thing she wanted now — to meet her baby soon. The last thing that Sakura would wish for when the year was going to end — within the shrine that had once flourished with prayers and blessings — was to bring her child safely into the world. Living with Sasuke had taught her to find the best in the worst situations, and Sakura was elated that she could do it that night too.

The sounds of bells ringing snapped them out of their thoughts. There must be a village nearby, which would explain the condition of the shrine they were staying in. The establishment of a new shrine in the prosperous village had robbed this shrine of its maintenance.

“It’s already time?” Sakura excitedly asked. The sound of the bells felt good to her ears. As a child, her parents had told her that the ringing of bells was part of a ritual to purify their minds and souls for the year ahead. It was the first time she felt real peace with her small family, which was one step further from being ‘complete.’

As the ringing of bells subsided, Sakura whispered, rubbing her belly, “Happy New Year, little one. I can’t wait to meet you.”

Sakura’s giggles and dialogues with their unborn baby filled Sasuke’s heart. Although Sakura told him that babies could hear and respond to external sounds, the way communication worked between mother and child amazed him.

Sakura squeaked, catching Sasuke’s attention again. “Oh! It kicked.” She grabbed Sasuke’s hand and hoped that she might feel the little one’s feet again.

“Did you feel it?” Sakura asked, placing Sasuke’s hand over the area where the baby was kicking.

Before Sasuke could respond, he felt the baby kick a few more times. He was bewildered how he could feel so good in spite of the chaotic weather. This was the warmth he had always craved — with the people he loved.

“It seems you are also eager to meet us,” Sakura said gleefully. The little moments with their baby washed away all of the exhaustion from Sakura’s face.

Cheerful as always, she looked towards Sasuke. There were moments in their journey when she caught glimpses of Sasuke’s smile, but this smile would be the one she wanted to cherish for the rest of her life.

Sakura smiled brightly, holding her tears at bay, and whispered, “Happy New Year, Sasuke-kun.” She didn’t know about her younger self, but everything felt like a dream to her even.

“Aah.” Sasuke responded, but as soon as he saw tears roll down Sakura’s cheeks, he panicked. Maybe she wasn’t feeling well.

“Shannaroo!” Sakura wiped her tears and complained, “It’s just that the year passed so fast.” She was crying for such a stupid reason!

Relieved that it was just mood swings, Sasuke dug through his satchel, searching for the scroll he had sealed for a special purpose.

“I should’ve bought some osechi ryori before leaving the previous town.” Sakura continued talking while Sasuke opened the scroll.

“Hn. Maybe next year,” Sasuke replied with amusement, as he presented a box of treats and a spoon. Sasuke handed them to Sakura and said, “Open it.”

Sakura narrowed her eyes. It was very unlike for Sasuke to pack a box of osechi ryori. Sakura argued with herself while examining the box she had been handed. Hmm, but this isn’t a jūbako either. What is it?

Giving up on her attempts to guess, she opened the lid slowly. It didn’t take her long to figure it out when the aroma filled the space

“Anmitsu!” She giggled, green eyes wide with surprise.

Sasuke watched with awe as Sakura gulped the dessert. He wondered if she was really that hungry or if it was her love of sweets. He raised his brows in suspicion, when Sakura abruptly stopped eating.

“I wonder what our baby would like more. Anmitsu or tomatoes?” She teasingly emphasised the last word.

Sasuke rolled his eyes and replied, “We’ll see about that.”

Sakura placed a bet while gulping a spoonful of anmitsu.

Happiness had a different definition for everyone. For them, it was winter nights and snuggling close to each other. Sasuke realised that when he had to travel alone again,and on cold nights when he couldn’t feel Sakura’s warmth, this memory would protect him from these harsh nights with the promise that the next sunrise would be better than the last one.

Chapter - 5

[sevi007]

(have not played hades but-) Can you imagine Persephone dragging Hades to the surface for just a minute, just for a moment. He's grumbling, he's BUSY, there is so much work to do and-what, is that-? huh. He doesn't remember the sun being that. warm. did he forget? no. Must be because he's with her.

I hope it says something about HOW MUCH I JUST WROTE for this prompt if I post a link to AO3 first, before the story - Because it just got SO long. XD

Read the answer to this on my AO3 under the name “Home is not where you live (but who cares when you’re gone)”

Or read it under the cut, but in worse formatted form:

„Mother really does not do things halfway, does she?”

 Persephone’s voice was strained, the chatter of her teeth laced into her every word. And yet when Hades turned to her she was smiling wistfully, her gaze directed at the glittering white around them fond and amused both.

As soon as he noted the shivers wracking her frame, Hades immediately moved to cross the distance between them, already loosening the clasp of his cape while cursing himself to the depths of Erebus and back again. Even to him, with his cape and internal fire, the air was frigid. To the goddess of spring, it must have been positively arctic. How could he not have thought of that?!

For all his anger at himself and his mother-in-law, his hands were infinitely gentle when he draped his cape around Persephone’s stiff shoulders, pulling it closed around her. “Your mother,” he grumbled to himself, nearly letting the words get lost in his beard, “always had a talent for holding grudges for a very, very long time, even for us gods.”  

“Oh, I…,” a little sound slipped from Persephone’s lips, a curious mixture of surprise and awe as she watched his hands wrap her gently in the cloth. Once he was finished, she reached up and touched his retreating hand gently, effectively rooting him in place when she smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

Feeling as frozen as the land around them, Hades could not muster a single word. He nodded jerkily, murmuring something which could count as assent, and forced himself to take a step back again, to put distance between them to be able to breathe again.

At least Persephone seemed to need to get her bearings about herself as well. She blinked into empty space for a beat before shaking her head, laughing quietly, and focusing on him again. “Well!” Let’s keep moving, before we freeze in place.”

“I would not even put that option past her,” he mumbled. He had thought the crunch of snow under their feet would have swallowed the quiet words, but Persephone actually laughed, blindsiding him completely with the melodious sound and nearly making him stumble. Blast.

„You are still going on about that? I’m sure this is not her holding a grudge; this is...” Persephone gesticulated about, clearly at a loss of words, until she caught sight of him and the way his bushy eyebrows had risen nearly to his hairline. Defeated, she snorted and let her hands drop. „Perhaps a little. A very little grudge.“

“Perpetual winter. And only here,” he reminded her gruffly, only to bite back a court laugh when she leveled a glower at him, stubborn and defiant for a beat – before she deflated.

“She really is good at this, isn’t she?” Once he nodded gravely, she was already smiling again, her good spirits not that easily deterred. “But grudge or not – it really is quite beautiful, in its own way. Look!”

Hades grunted and would have kept walking, but of course she would not have any of it. She stopped right before the way bent around a corner, and with how close she had positioned herself at the edge of the plummeting cliff, he could not bring himself to simply continue on and leave her there. With nothing left to do other than to follow her gaze or stare at her, he heaved a soundless sigh and allowed himself to take in the sight.

 As far as they could see, the land was clad in powdery white, glittering in the early morning light as if diamonds had been ground into the finest powder and strewn out.  And where the last edges of his - their - realm ended, there was only the sea, dancing lights reflecting on light waves, and the sky above,  tinted in hues of orange, pink and palest blue.

It really was quite beautiful; he was at a point where he could admit it was. Once upon time he had been blind to the beauty of the surface and the skies; too hurt to see anything but a disappointment in those domains which had been denied to him. Not because he envied his brothers for the realms they governed over; blood and darkness, no! He could not have cared less about lofty highs and watery depths, and much less wanted to call them his own.

No, his ire had been drawn burning hot because it had been a short straw which had decided it all.

His life, his future, resting on a single straw. What a cruel joke that had been. Had the decision not been made by the Fates, anyway, long before he had made his draw? And they all had known so. He had known – had known that neither his brothers nor the Fates had even left him the pretense of having a say in the matter.

Now, eons upon eons later, he had embraced his fate and accepted the Underworld as his to govern over, much like it had accepted him in return. And with it, his rage had cooled. He was no longer blinded by it while gazing out over the mortals’ realm, feeling not awe over it, but at least a certain… contentment.

Although maybe most of it was because of the goddess at his side. Hades found he forgot all about the landscape once his gaze settled on Persephone; her eyes shone as she took in the sight, and the bow of her excited smile was so familiar and near-forgotten both, it wrenched painfully at his heart.

A portrait could never come close to the real sight of her.

It felt nearly sacrilegious to draw her away from something which could made her smile like that, but she would be miffed if she did not get the work done what they had come here for. Hades was reaching for her before his mind caught up with it, and only managed to draw his hand back an inch from her shoulder. “Persephone,” he called instead, quietly. „The garden?“

“Hm? Oh! Right,” another laugh; this time, he was better braced for it, and did not feel as weak-kneed as before when he followed her away from the cliff and up the mountains again while she chattered on. “My apologies. Here I am dragging you up to the surface to gather some plants from my garden, and then I get sidetracked at every opportunity.”

“You did not need to drag me,” he reminded her firmly, although not unkindly. “You asked if someone had the time for a short trip. I did, so I agreed.”

«And that was very kind of you,” Persephone’s steps were quick and sure, finding their way up towards the cottage blindly even while she glanced back at him. “Don’t think I’m not aware that there is now work piling up for you! But I would have had to ask Charon, otherwise, and I so hate to keep him from his duty...”

“It is doubtful he would have found the opportunity.” Frowning down at the slippery snowmelt his fire-clad feet left behind, Hades swallowed a grumbled and shook the cold wetness off as discreetly as he could. “With all the time he has spent selling useless clutter to the boy-… Zagreus, he is behind in his work as it is.”

His harsh words did not seem to deter her in the least. Green eyes flashed with mirth over her shoulder as she chuckled. “All that selling of clutter you have not forbidden him yet, you mean?”

A grumble left him, too indistinct to pinpoint if it was embarrassed agreement or offended muttering, and she laughed heartily. He kept silent, letting her have her fun at this expense. She was right, anyway, and it would distract her from questioning his decision to accompany her, which was a relief in itself.

 What would she say, he wondered, watching her sure-footed gait up the hills and the smile he could only make out the curves of from his position, when she knew he had never intended to let anybody but him accompany her up here? He would have loaded the chthonic gods with work himself if he had needed to, only to make sure he was the only one who had time for her.

Not because he did not trust anybody else to protect her. She was very capable of taking care of herself, nobody knew that better than him.

It was the destination of her trip which made him uneasy. Having to let her go, months at a time, for her visits to Olympus would be terrible enough already; he was aware of all his subjects and colleagues already conspiring not to bother him during those times, since his mood would be at all-time low the kind of which even titans and giants would have feared. But when it came to Olympus, he was at least sure she would always return to hi– to the Underworld. She did not like the mountaintop any more than he did, after all.

But here? The place she had made for herself; the everlasting reminder that he had chased her away once already? That she did not need him to be happy? He could not bear the thought of letting her go here alone and risk that he was left in the dark about her changing her mind about the Underworld, about her place amongst them… about him.

If she did, he would not stop her, of course. He would let her go, no matter how it would break him. But at least he would be there, and would know where she was; that she was safe.

And at least he could say goodbye this time.

 So lost in his increasingly hopeless thoughts was he that he did not notice the sound of her footsteps changing; the crunch of snow was replaced with the soft sound of grass swishing around her ankles. It was the change of temperature that alerted him to a shift, seconds before her voice made him look up, “We’re here! Zagreus did not promise too much, he really has been taking care of… Hades?”

Hades could not have answered even if he had really heard what she had been saying. He was frozen in place the moment he had looked up and laid eyes on their destination.

It was not what he had expected; not that he had been sure what, exactly, he expected to find on this trip. Perhaps something akin to the garden adorning the House down below: plants which could flourish despite the close proximity to the beyond, and which had likely survived more because of the magic of their owner rather than his own clumsy care in her absence.

But this place was different. This place, down to its very core, was her.

Persephone.

She was everywhere here, in the air, in the ground. Not only her magic and her vitality were represented in the eternal spring garden – no, better. Worse. He saw the warmth of her smile reflected in the magical golden sunlight; heard the lilt of her happiest laughter in the gurgle of the stream further ahead; could feel the smell of her hair wafting up from the multitude of flowers tickling his nose.

The kindness and strength of her very soul was represented in every single piece of nature around them, and it was so overwhelming that even the God of the Dead stood stunned, unable to tear his eyes away from it all – away from her, standing there in the middle of the golden sunlight, looking every bit like the goddess and queen she was.  

 “It’s alright.”

Her gentle voice pulled him from his stupor.

Persephone was smiling patiently at him, hand offered out with its palm up. “It’s alright,” she repeated gently, softly. “You won’t burn any of it, I promise.”

Hades’ confusion was short-lived; only long enough to notice that in his shock, he had stopped just short of stepping onto the lush green grass. Of course, he knew his fire would not, could not, burn any of this; it had never burned any of her plants down below, either. And still he felt hesitant to take the first step into this sanctuary of hers.

How could he possibly be welcome here, a distant part of him wondered, in this domain which was hers and hers alone, when he once had been the reason she had left the Underworld in the first place?

When he should have come here to beg her to return back home, yet never did?

And yet, there was still her hand offered out to him, her smile directed at him so kind and gentle. Even the deepest guilt and most crippling doubt could not stop him from taking such an invitation, and he reached for her haltingly, allowing her much smaller hand to slip into his and draw him over the invisible line between them.

Persephone’s widening smile was fully worth it.

 Ripping his gaze from her features before he could be caught staring at the crinkles around her eyes or the bow of her lips, Hades directed his attention to the quaint cottage in the corner of the magical garden. While commonly and unassuming at first glance, upon closer inspection it was shimmering with the same power as the rest of the place did. “You made this yourself. Everything?”

“Mhmmmm,” even Persephone’s hum was proud. “The very first living quarters I made and maintained myself.”

You should not have had to. “It is… comfortable.” Internally, he cursed his clumsiness. He could thunder orders powerful enough to halt titans in their tracks, command respect with a single cold word, yet this was causing him trouble?

Luckily, Persephone seemed blind to his inner war, beaming up at him as if he had made her the biggest compliment. “Right? I was quite happy with how it turned out; so homely. Although it became a little quiet from time to time, but… oh, well! Here we are.”

Her hand slipped from his as she moved to kneel next to a patch, immediately leaving him feeling cold. His fingers flexed, feeling the lingering ghost of her touch, while he watched his wife fuss a little with the ends of her peplos and chiton to get comfortable, setting the yet empty basket down next to herself. His cape, neatly folded, found its place next to it. The careful way with which she stroked over the cloth for a beat, lingering, made Hades’ heart turn over in his chest, and he had to look away.

In the middle of pushing her hair back, Persephone suddenly seemed to remember him standing there – already lost to her work, he noted with a surge of staggering fondness – and shot him a half-reassuring, half-apologetic smile. “I will try to be as quick as I can. You, hm. You still might want to get comfortable, however? There are chairs right over…there… oh.”

 Her voice trailed off and into silence when he lowered himself to kneel beside her, mirroring her stance. She was still staring at him silently by the time he tucked the tips of his long beard aside so they would not get in the way, and in lieu of having to say much else, Hades murmured, “It will be faster, this way.”

“Right. Right, yes, of course.” She ducked her head, yet was not fast enough to hide her smile completely.

Unsure if she was making fun of him or not, he swallowed his instinctive, defensive retort and raised an eyebrow at her profile. “I do remember a little of what you taught me.”

“You do?”

The question was high with surprise. He felt his hackles rise immediately, jaw tensing.  Of course she could not even imagine that he would-…

“Oh, I’m sorry, Hades,” her hand settling gently on his elbow made his rage draw back like the tides, as quickly as it had come. When he glanced up again, Persephone grimaced in a way that was apologetic and self-deprecating all at once. “That was silly of me. I should have known you – I know you still remember. After all,” and here, her expression softened in a way that made his throat go tight, “after all, you took care of the garden by the House in my absence, right?”

Once more he tensed; this time not from anger, but because he suddenly felt caught out. He nearly ripped his arm from under her hand but couldn’t bring himself to do it, so he simply avoided her gaze, rather decisively. “I attempted to.”

“And you did a wonderful job at it,” Persephone said, so firm he dared not even scoff at her words. “I was so happy to see it all flourishing when I came back. After all this time, I thought… well. To be honest, I thought it would all have wilted.”

Hades looked up at her sharply, searching for her gaze, but now it was her who was looking away. She thought…?  “Never,” his own voice startled him a little, raspier than he had meant to be. “I could never have…. It was… it was yours.”

The mere idea of the garden wilting and dying made him sick, even now. It had been one of the two only things that he had left of her, apart from their son. All to remember her by.  Raising Zagreus like the way the boy had deserved… well, he had failed at that, hadn’t he? But the garden. The garden he had somehow managed, to his own astonishment.

While he watched, Persephone’s features softened; Hades could not decipher the emotions swirling in her green eyes, yet the intensity there made his mouth go dry. Before he could further question it, she looked away, releasing him from his stupor. “Let’s get to work; I have kept you long enough.”  

His first instinct was to deny it; he had come here willingly, after all. But she was already handing him a little spade to work with, avoiding his gaze as she began to explain what she would like to do. All he could really do was accept the tool and nod jerkily along to her words, trying to get his whirling thoughts into order and focus.

 In the end, it was not as difficult as first feared. They fell into a kind of easy rhythm, a dance they had danced long ago and with steps that now quickly came back them. Persephone directed him with gentle words and helpful pointers while she made quick work of her own half of the patch; he, in turn, was content to follow her lead without missing a beat. Most of the time, he dug a hole around the plants she pointed out to him, graciously leaving space around the roots so as not to damage them, and then let her lift seedlings, seeds and bulbs out of the earth to dust them off and set them aside in her basket.

Often, Hades got momentarily lost watching her. Watching her simply… being. He had nearly forgotten how radiant she was when content. The tilt of her little smile when she found a particularly strong little seedling. That she would praise the plants for their beauty and growth. More than once, he had to force himself to look away in time to avoid her questioning gaze, for he did not know if his staring would be welcome at all.

 Only once the sun had already passed its zenith did Persephone sit back on her heels with a deep, content sigh and wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, cleaning sweat and dirt off her brow. “Phew, that should last us for quite a while now.”

Hades followed her lead and sat back; he knew better than to make a snide comment about the plentiful assemble of plants nearly spilling over the sides of the large basket. He already knew she would probably return here at some point in the near future, no matter what she said now. The surface was part of her, and she needed it like her flowers needed the sunlight. “Shall we heed back, then?”

“Probably,” but even as she said it, Persephone did not sound convinced. Her gaze lingered on the garden around them, travelling here and there, but never quite meeting his. “You will have to meet Zagreus by the temple soon, won’t you? He was preparing to leave when we went out.”

Ah. Hades nodded with a quiet grunt, hoping his surprise was not as visible as he thought. He had completely forgotten about that while they had been here, and he did not quite like to admit it.

The curve of Persephone’s smile betrayed her pride as she glanced over at him once more.  “He got so good at this. Do you think he has passed through Asphodel already?”

“He will be leaving it soon,” Hades corrected absentmindedly and without a hint of doubt. He felt it, the same way he felt his heart beat and his lungs draw breath: While they spoke here peacefully, tremors shook Asphodel beneath their feet. Ear-splitting hisses sent tortured souls scurrying for cover while the trashing of an angered Hydra sent more magma over the edges, flooding what little solid ground was still left with the Phlegethon’s liquid fire.

 Zagreus had become quick in his escapes, Hades had to give him that; with each run to the surface, the young god got faster, stronger, more strategic about his approach, and the Underworld had little to offer that could keep him chained, at this point. The Hydra would not be able to hold him in place long. The champions of Elysium would slow him down somewhat but even they would fall before the prince, as they had done many, many times before. And then soon, it would be the Lord’s own turn to try and send him back to the House.

By sunset, Hades guessed when he checked the sun once more, sunset at the latest he would have to face his son. And while those fights had gone on from a bitter deed over to an annoying nuisance and ended up being something he actually looked a little forward to – well. Today was different, wasn’t it.

 Persephone was still looking at him questioningly, ever patient, when Hades glanced back at her.  There was still a streak of dirt on her cheek which she did not have seemed to notice. It made her look younger, somehow; every bit the young, spirited goddess with dirt under her fingernails and the stars in her eyes whom Zeus had one day dropped at his doorsteps as a “gift”, and who had immediately started to worm her way into his heart.

Without making the conscious decision to, Hades reached out and gently, carefully, wiped the dirt of her cheek with his thumb. Under his palm, he felt her draw a breath and then fall entirely still, and when he realized what he had just done, he dropped his hand immediately.

He had not made the first move to touch her ever since she came back. And now he was not sure if the wide-eyed look she gave him was to mean he had made a horrible mistake.

Changing the subject right now seemed the safe thing to do.

“Hades…”

“There is time yet,” Hades interrupted her softly; unsure if he wanted to hear what she had to say. “I can remain for a little longer, if…”

He trailed off, gaze flicking away from her as he cleared his throat uneasily. How to continue on without making it sound like he was trying to make her decision for her was beyond him. Yet asking her to please, stay here, with me, a little longer, seemed like too much, still.

“Hades.”

It was said much firmer now, a gentle command which immediately made him listen, even when he could not yet bring himself to look back at her. He nearly did, his whole arm jerking in surprise and shock, when she gently took hold of the hand he had let drop away from her moments before. Her touch felt alien, after all this time; his fingers twitched when hers ghosted along them, cradling them, torn between holding very still and grabbing hold of her.  

 Persephone’s gaze was a near corporal thing, drilling into his temple, but he still refused to meet her gaze; couldn’t bring up the courage to do it. She seemed to sense this, since she took a deep breath after a moment and began talking again without waiting for eye contact. “When Zagreus visited me, here, before… he told me something.”

Both of her hands settled around his now, holding him, staying him. It might have been a good thing, for a suspicion already rose in his mind, making his muscles lock as if to bolt.

“He believed you might still love me.”

Suspicions became reality, All air leaving him in a great rush, Hades closed his eyes, remembering – remembering very vividly: the door to his chambers just the slightest bit ajar on his return; dust on a side table disturbed ever so slightly; and the portrait… the portrait which had been standing half an inch more to the side as it had for the last eternity.

He should have been furious, then; he should have been furious now. At his son for meddling in things that were not his to care about; at Achilles, for abandoning his guard duty out of misplaced loyalty; at the Fates, perhaps, for continuing to make a fool of him.  

Instead, he only felt tired. So very, very tired.

And she was not even done yet.

 “Do not be angry with him.” The force in her voice nearly made him smirk despite the circumstances; every bit the queen he still remembered after all. Then her voice softened again, making him listen very closely despite himself, to catch her next words. “He did it to convince me to come back, you see. Because I said -… well, I said to him there was nothing left for me, in your House. Not after…after all this time.”

By the end of it, her voice had taken on such a softness, such a dejected tone, that he could no longer look away. His head swiveled around, but ironically, now she was avoiding him; keeping her gaze fixed intently on their joined hands and making it impossible for his incredulous stare to decipher her meaning.

Nothing left? She could not be serious. She could not have possible thought, all this time…

“I could not quite believe it, when he told me,” Persephone continued on, either blind to his inner turmoil or ignoring it for the moment. “That could not possibly be true, because… because. After all this time? After… I left you, without as much as a goodbye.”

She laughed quietly, then, but it was nothing like the sound he loved to hear so much; it was watery and quivering, and he could not stay still for any second longer, reeling as he was. Turning his wrist in her grip so he could cradle her hand in his palm, Hades squeezed it, hoping it would get her to look at him as he reminded her gently, “You left me a letter.”

“A letter,” the shaky sound repeated itself, laced with a scoff, but at least Persephone looked up at him now. Her eyes were watery, but steely as she shook her head. “That letter was not enough to tell you-…”

“I understood,” he hated to interrupt her, but he would not let her go that spiral of doubt and she was working herself up to. “I understood that you did not want to stay.”

She fell quiet then, her gaze darting over his features, searching for something. A deep breath, then a sad smile formed on her face once she seemed to have found it. “Perhaps. But perhaps, you misunderstood my reasons to leave.”

What? Hades slowly shook his head. It seemed ridiculous. Of course he had known. There might have been a great many things he had not known anymore, then – why they had to suffer; why she had to be punished for their love; why anything still mattered with her gone. But this, he had known.

“Really?” Persephone prodded, gaze sharpening a little at his denial. “Did you really know? I did not tell you. I should have told you.”

“You were not happy,” this was the easiest part, painful as it might be; the sound of her crying had haunted him for a long, long time, after all. “It was obvious. What was there to tell me?”

“Is that really all you thought? Or did you think, maybe, that I was not happy with you?”

 Already having opened his mouth to reassure her once again that he had understood, Hades paused, carefully considering her words once more. To him, there had never been a difference; if his wife had not been happy in their home, then it had to be his fault. If she had to leave because she could stand it no longer, than he had failed her. What husband was he, when he could not even make her feel welcome, and happy?

“That is what I feared,” Persephone interpreted his long silence immediately, and correctly. She looked positively grief-stricken when she shook her head. “Oh, Hades. That is what I meant when I said the letter was not enough-… you were never the reason why I left!”

He had not been? He had not been. But still…

“I was not reason enough to make you stay, either.” He cringed the second the words left his mouth, hating how petulant and selfish they sounded.

“… Back then, no, I suppose you weren’t.”

It hurt to hear her say it, even when he had always known it for a fact.

“You always made me so happy. However, at that time, there were so many things that made me forget what happiness even meant.” Persephone’s breath caught a little before she shook her head, drawing aimless pattern on the back of his hand. “My insecurities over my place in your realm…. If I was able to be the queen you deserved. My loneliness. And, most of all…. when Zagreus…”

Her voice gave out on her, then; he did not need her to finish, hold around her shaking fingers instinctively tightening.

(Their son had been so very small. So very beautiful. So very dead silent.)

Quietly, Persephone sniffled, one hand coming up to discreetly wipe at her eyes before she continued, keeping her head ducked. “Some of those things, I am still not sure about, even looking back at them. But I had time to… get some distance from it all. And Zagreus… well.”

She looked up, smile soft yet radiant. “He found me.”

 What should have been a reason for joy only made Hades twitch guilty, nearly pulling his hand back; her touch suddenly so undeserved. For none of that had been his work. He might have believed his decisions right, once, everything only to protect her. But in the end, he had only kept mother and son apart at every turn. “I should have told you,” he muttered, knowing she would understand without words.

And she did. For one terrifying moment, Persephone’s features closed off from him, lips tightening from a smile into a frown. No longer the warmth of spring, but rather cold disapproval. “Yes, you should have. On that, our son and I agree wholeheartedly.”

Again, he cringed, her soft words like a whip. He did not deserve their forgiveness, he knew, but… but. He feared, anyway.

“But that is not why I’m telling you all this. Not today,“

 Barely able to believe his ears, Hades dared to risk another glance at her. Persephone had softened once again, her warmth returning. Yet she seemed hesitant to begin talking once again; he was familiar with the way she bit her lip, eyes lowered.

After a moment of hesitation, he allowed himself to shift his thumb, letting it ghost over her knuckles in silent encouragement.

Persephone‘s eyes darted to his, briefly surprised, before her smile returned and she squeezed his hand back, clearing her throat. “So Zagreus told me you might – might still love me. Well. I wasn’t convinced, as I already said. Not even when he told me about the portrait.  A portrait could just be a memory, after all. Collecting dust, no longer getting any attention.”

At that point, Persephone faltered once more, her gaze asking for his understanding. Hades nodded slowly; not in agreement, for her assumption could not be further from the truth, but in the hope she would continue. He needed to know what she was trying to tell him.

And she did. ”But… Zagreus’ claim stayed with me. In the end, whether he was right or not, it was the only thing he could have said to convince me to come back.”

She fell silent, then. Hades could barely breathe, anticipation and fear warring in him as he waited for her to explain, one moment, two, what seemed to be an eternity. Finally he realized that it would not happen, not without his prompting.

Swallowing tightly, he managed a rough „Why?“

It had been the right thing to do, judging by the way her whole demeanor relaxed and she smiled at him. „Because out of everything I left behind, it was you whom I missed the most.“

A wave of disbelief and relief swapped over him, strong enough to leave even a god dizzy. After all this time, all his shortcomings - knowing that she had missed him even a little was a balm on his broken old heart.

Fates, but he did not deserve her.

 Hands trembling faintly under the onslaught, he forced them to calm long enough to wrap them around Persephone’s, dwarfing them, while he searched for words. They were not his strength, ever been. But she had been so terribly brave and strong, and now – now it was his turn. It was the least he could do for her.

“Not only a memory,” was what he finally managed, tongue so heavy with emotions he could barely get it out. “The portrait, it was not that. It was always there, Persephone. You... you will always be my queen.”

It was not the great declaration of love he had hoped to make. Not that he had ever been the best at those, anyway. Perhaps it was for the best; at least for now, when he was not sure such a declaration would even be welcome.

And still, great words or no, her eyes started to glow as she took in his words, a slow smile spreading on her face. She had always been the one to understand what he meant, no matter what words he did or did not say. Carefully, so very carefully, she slipped her hand from his – his heart missed a step in fear – only to take his hand in hers instead, to lift their joined fingers to her cheek in a mimicry of his earlier touch; a tiny thing that seemed to long ago now.

The whole world seemed to stop when she leaned into his touch, searching for it instead of balking from it, and smiled, eyes wet. “Husband?” Said as a question and an invitation both.

 Something in Hades’ chest unraveled; a knot he had been carrying around ever since she left – ever since he had heard her cry out in anguish over their unmoving baby – finally loosening, letting him breathe at last. His hand was shivering against her cheek when he let his thumb gently stroke away the single tear slipping from to the corner of her eye. “Wife,” he breathed, answer and plea in one.

The sound which ripped from Persephone’s throat then was both incredulous laugh and broken sob; before he could worry, she was leaning forward, swaying into him until their brows touched.

The connection was – everything, Hades decided, releasing a breath he had not realized he had been holding. Once more he was enveloped by her, her scent, her warmth, her touch; he had thought he had lost any right to this. His second hand rose to gently cup her other cheek, fearing she would vanish like a dream in the morning light if he did not keep her close. “Persephone.”

“Hades,” she answered his broken plea without a beat of hesitation, her hand cupping his, holding it tight. There were tears in her eyes, only visible because she was so close. “Husband; I missed you so.”

“You should be furious with me…”

“Shhhhh,” her firm headshake nearly knocked their noses together. “We have been angry long enough. We have been hurting long enough. Not now. Please. Let us… let us think about how to be better in the future, but… later. Yes? Not now.”

Who was he to deny her? He did not know if it was the right thing to do, but then it was not his place to decide, either. He would do anything his queen asked of him. Anything, if they could just stay a little longer like this.

 And stay they did. For how long, he did not care, and hoped she would not, either. It could have been an eternity but it still felt too soon when Persephone took a deep breath and leaned back, his hands slipping from her face.

He immediately missed her but stayed, waiting for what she had to say; for he did know the cheeky gleam in her eyes still when she considered him from close up and yet too far away, head tilted. “Persephone?”

“Not in a hurry to get back to your paperwork?”

He snorted loudly without a thought, the notion too ridiculous to take it seriously for even a second. Only after did he register the mirth dancing in her green eyes, the smile twitching at the corner of her lips. It all seemed so familiar, quite suddenly, but why…?

Oh. Oh.

The realization was sweet and warm like the ambrosia he pretended to hate so much.

An eternity ago, this question had been a secret joke between them – a relic from old times where they were still so familiar which each other that she could tease him with the question without fearing his ire, and when he could tease right back without feeling like a clumsy fool.

She still remembered that. She thought it time to bring that old familiarity back. The thought filled him with a warm to battle even Demeter’s harshest winter.

What had been his answer, back then? Right. Something along the lines of…

“Why, always,” he rumbled, making sure to draw the syllables out as if in consideration, “but I can make time for you.”

 Pure delight lit up on Persephone’s face then and she laughed, heartily and happily, warmer than the sunlight around them. It prompted an answering smile from him, the kind of which he barely even remembered anymore. She was beautiful, his queen; now more so then ever, since he had her back. He would have loved to…

He was reaching for her before he could think better of it, now more sure of his welcome than before. Yet once his fingers were trailing along her jaw, he hesitated. Was this too fast?

“My queen,” Hades murmured, waiting until her eyes were on him before he let his gaze drop to her smiling lips. “May I…?”

She understood, of course she did. She understood, and instead of rejecting him, Persephone only laughed quietly and made the decision for him – something he would have not permitted, never again, had it been anyone else but her. Before he could even blink, she was rushing forward, arms settling around his shoulders securely, and lips crashing into his to kiss him with a ferocity and passion no god or mortal would have expected of the goddess of spring, except perhaps her husband. And a good thing indeed that he did, for it made him spring into action the moment their lips meet, readily welcoming her back into his arms and steadying them  before she could topple the both of them.

Back home, Hades thought, blurrily, as the world fell away around them, everything but their joy, their longing and their love ceasing to exist. He was back home.

 And for the first time ever, he actually felt like thanking the Fates for his lot in life.