#it’s felt like I’ve drawn so much less that usual this year but still I’ve also improved sm since the beginning of the year

[spyderschaos]

Last drawing of the year!!!!

[bbutterflies]

alyanette kiss for drabble prompts 👀

hi kayla!!! sorry this took me a million years but I hope it’s worth the wait!! 🩷🤍🧡

Marinette’s life is complicated. Balancing being a teenage girl and a superhero and a student and the guardian and a daughter is hard. But even then, she knows what she likes.

Marinette likes designing, the sound of pencil on the page and the thrill of her ideas coming to life. Marinette likes baking, following recipes she’s had memorized for years and the easy way she can hold piping bags in her hands. Marinette likes sewing, the familiar whir of her machine soothing on even her worst days. Marinette likes Alya’s lip gloss.

But that one is new, so she’s not sure why she likes it so much.

Marinette likes boys – she knows that, has always known that. But she’s not with a boy today. She’s with Alya, alone. Having a picnic.

And Alya is wearing a really pretty lip gloss.

Marinette’s not quite sure why she’s so drawn to it. It’s subtle, a little pink, just a bit of shimmer, but she notices. She knows Alya doesn’t usually wear it. Alya doesn’t usually wear the floral spring dress she’s wearing, either, but Marinette quite likes it too. Well, of course she does – she designed it, a birthday present for Alya. But she really likes it when Alya wears it.

Marinette knows she doesn’t have it all figured out, of course, but… she’s more confused than usual right now.

Alya is sitting next to her, legs tucked against her side. Her hair is down, caught in the gentle breeze, and she keeps tucking it behind her ear. Marinette could watch her do that all day, she thinks. She’d be quite content.

Alya is peeling an orange, and she offers Marinette a slice. Marinette takes it, of course.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Alya says with a smile, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“Me, too,” Marinette says. “This is really nice.” She looks around at the blanket Alya has brought for them, baby pink and soft, and the wicker picnic basket sitting on top filled with snacks and drinks. She takes a bite of the orange in her hands.

Alya returns to peeling, carefully digging her nails into the skin of the orange and exposing the fruit. “I, um, I really like spending time with you,” she says.

Marinette watches her, mouth agape. She’s not quite sure how to respond.

“You’re incredible, Mari,” Alya continues as she pulls off the last piece of orange skin. “I’ve always thought that. I knew it from the day we met.”

“Oh,” Marinette breathes. Alya has complimented her before, but this… it’s different in a way she can’t put her finger on.

The wind picks up and pulls Alya’s hair loose. Marinette’s hand is there to fix it before Alya’s.

Marinette isn’t sure why she does it, but it’s happening before she even realizes it. She gently tucks the hair back in place, her fingers lingering near Alya’s cheek. She likes being close to Alya.

Alya smiles.

They don’t talk. The moment stretches into eternity. Marinette keeps her hand where it is, an offer, though she’s not sure what she’s asking for. She just knows she likes it, and it seems like Alya likes it, too.

But Alya doesn’t move, so Marinette lowers her hand. Her aim is to bring it back to her lap, but Alya catches it first. Gently, carefully, Alya holds her hand.

Marinette notices Alya’s nail polish. Warm pink, soft orange, the sunset encapsulated. Alya’s hand is soft and warm. Marinette already knows this, has felt Alya’s hands before when they paint each other’s nails or Alya holds her back from a wayward plan going awry.

But this is different. Alya holds gently, carefully. She’s making her own offer, Marinette realizes.

Marinette seizes it. She moves slowly, in case Alya wants to change her mind and pull away. But Alya doesn’t. They intertwine their fingers and hold each other tight.

Maybe… maybe Marinette likes Alya. Likes her as more than her best friend. Because she loves the way their hands fit together, and she’s still drawn to Alya’s lip gloss and maybe it’s less about the gloss and more about who’s wearing it.

“I really like you,” Alya whispers. She meets Marinette eyes and smiles, confident. Her voice is louder. “I really like you,” she repeats. “And if you just want to stay friends, that’s okay, too. But I wanted to tell you anyway.”

Oh.

The pieces fall into place like dominos to spell out a beautiful pattern, and Marinette realizes it all at once.

She likes girls. She likes Alya, actually. Of course she does.

Marinette scoots a little closer on the blanket. Alya responds with a breath let loose and a glowing smile. She’s never been good with words, always trips over her feet on her way to the point, but Marinette doesn’t think she needs to say anything right now to express herself quite clearly to Alya.

She leans closer. Alya meets her halfway.

Alya’s lips are soft. She tastes like cherry and oranges and pure bliss. She feels like home, familiar and safe and always pulling Marinette right back in. Marinette knows instantly she’s stuck in Alya’s orbit, and she’ll never need to be anywhere else.

Alya pulls back with a giddy smile, her heart bared between her teeth, and Marinette knows she’s a mirror image.

Marinette likes this. Loves it, even. And she’s quite sure about it.

[legionofshaza]

In the shadows of home

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

☆A Gwynriel fanfic for Azriel week Day 3☆

@azrielappreciationweek

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Azriel stood at the edge of the House of Wind, the night breeze threading through his dark hair. His wings, usually tucked in tight to his body, hung loosely behind him. The stars above Velaris were bright tonight, a canopy of light that made the city beneath them glow like a well-kept secret. It should have been peaceful, but inside, a storm raged.

Belonging. He had never truly known what it felt like. He’d been brought into the Night Court as a broken child, barely more than a weapon-in-the-making. His hands, scarred from years of torture in the Hewn City, still ached sometimes as if the shadows he commanded whispered memories of his past.

To the outside world, Azriel was a Spymaster, a shadow-cloaked figure of fear and control. But beneath that title was something far more fragile: a man who had never felt at home in his own skin.

The shadows that swirled around him now were a comfort, his ever-present companions. They murmured of secrets, of dangers lurking beyond the city, but they also offered something else. Solace. The knowledge that he wasn’t truly alone, even if it felt that way sometimes.

“Azriel.”

He didn’t need to turn to know it was Gwyn. Her presence was like a breath of fresh air, quiet yet unwavering. She had a knack for sneaking up on him, something that might have irritated anyone else. But for Azriel, it was a welcome distraction.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked, coming to stand beside him, her gaze fixed on the city below.

He shook his head. “I don’t sleep much.”

Gwyn chuckled softly, a sound that made his chest tighten. “I’ve noticed.”

There was a long silence between them, the kind Azriel found strangely comfortable. Gwyn didn’t force conversation, didn’t pry into the depths of his thoughts unless he wanted to share. It was one of the many reasons he found himself drawn to her.

“I can feel it,” she said, her voice soft, as if she were afraid to shatter the stillness. “That restlessness inside you.”

Azriel didn’t respond immediately. He wasn’t sure how to. How could he explain a lifetime of feeling like he didn’t fit anywhere? That even with his brothers—Cassian and Rhys, the only family he’d ever known—there was a part of him that was always separate, always watching from the outside.

“I don’t… belong,” he admitted quietly, the words barely a whisper. It wasn’t something he’d ever said aloud before, not even to himself.

Gwyn’s brow furrowed as she turned to face him. “What makes you say that?”

Azriel’s shadows stirred, wrapping tighter around him as if to shield him from the vulnerability he’d just exposed. “I’m not like them. Cassian, Rhys—they were always meant to be part of something bigger. I was just a tool, something to be used and discarded.”

“Azriel,” Gwyn said, her voice firm now, but not unkind. “You’re not just a weapon. You’re more than that.”

He looked at her then, his hazel eyes meeting her steady gaze. She didn’t flinch, didn’t look away like so many others did. She held his gaze, her expression unwavering.

“You think you don’t belong because of what you’ve done, because of what you are,” she continued. “But none of that changes the fact that you do belong. Maybe not in the way you think, but you’re part of this court. You’re part of Rhys and Cassian’s family. And… you’re part of mine, too.”

Azriel’s heart gave a strange lurch at her words. Family. It was a concept he’d always struggled with, even though Rhys and Cassian had never treated him as anything less than a brother. And yet, hearing Gwyn say it, hearing the quiet certainty in her voice—it struck something deep inside him.

“How do you know?” he asked, his voice rougher than he intended. “How can you be sure?”

Gwyn smiled, and it was like a sunrise breaking through the clouds. “Because I know what it’s like to feel lost. To feel like you don’t have a place in the world. But I also know that you don’t have to belong to some grand destiny to matter. Sometimes, belonging is just… being with the people who make you feel like you’re enough.”

Azriel looked away, his jaw clenched as he struggled to swallow the knot of emotion in his throat. The words she spoke were so simple, yet they cut through him with the force of truth.

He had always been searching for a place to belong, a purpose that went beyond being a weapon in someone else’s war. But maybe Gwyn was right. Maybe belonging wasn’t about destiny or titles or being something more. Maybe it was about the quiet moments like this, standing on the edge of the world with someone who saw him for who he truly was—and didn’t turn away.

The shadows around him calmed, as if they too had found a measure of peace in her words. And for the first time in a long while, Azriel felt a flicker of something that had always been elusive to him.

Home.

He glanced at Gwyn, who was still gazing at the stars, her face lit by their soft glow. Without thinking, he reached out, his scarred hand brushing hers. She looked at him, surprised, but then her expression softened, and she laced her fingers with his.

“You belong here, Azriel,” she whispered. “With me.”

Azriel tightened his grip, grounding himself in the warmth of her touch. For the first time, he allowed himself to believe it.

In the shadows, he had found his place. But with Gwyn, he had found where he truly belonged.

⋇⋆✦ End✦⋆⋇　

[aheathen-conceivably]

1, 10, 12, and 25! - lgl

LGL always a joy in the inbox 😊

1. What’s the last screenshot you’ve taken for your story?

Trying to get them spoilers here, huh? 😜

The last screen I took was actually while testing some pose edits. It is a blessed photo, so please enjoy (and speculate)…

10. Is your story fully planned or are you still working things out? is there a definitive end?

Kind of, definitely, and yes.

More specifically, I have a number of specific details planned out. I always like to ramble about how it’s like scaffolding being built toward the sky. The higher you go the less the structure is there, and you can see all the cracks and still need to figure out how to actually get to the next solid point, which is where the inspiration and flexibility comes in. But overall, yes, I have the final scene of the story written. Imma need a whole ass team if I’m ever gunna get there at this rate though 😅

12. Do you actually play the game or do you just use it as a storytelling medium?

Specifically in the Darlington save? Probably like 20/80 at this point. I play between story shoots to kind of mimic the arcs, so it’s more me just imitating my own story in gameplay vs. actually playing the game and letting it influence my writing at all.

25. What inspirations have you drawn on for your story?

Goodness, gracious. Everything? If that’s a fair answer? 😅

Movies I love, books I read, history I’ve studied, songs that hit, fellow storytellers, tropes that make my brain itch, personal experiences, the color of the sky sometimes, a single word my husband says. Honestly? Fun times out here when you’ve got the Darlington brain rot.

To narrow it down I think that the 1890s/1900s were more inspired by my own aesthetics and decades challenges in general, and things got a little more personal around 1910 (which is why I usually tell people that’s when I start to really like the story). Those years were heavily inspired by Downton Abbey and Titanic (of course). And as broad stroke inspiration, I’m sure y’all know I’m fond of the “it glitters so brightly you don’t even see the tragedy until it’s too late” vibes that Titanic has (cue my other favorite films Cabaret and Moulin Rouge).

The 20s are inspired by New Orleans, I cannot state it enough. By everything I felt in my years there and everything I learned during my MA. More specifically, it was heavily drawn from Mister Jelly Roll and Empire of Sin. We also have some Gatsby in there, of course 😉

Now in the 30s I’m really having a blast, because I feel like I’m pulling inspiration for all the previous decades (Gatsby references coming when?) as well as hinting toward future ones (a certain littlest heiress and her obsession with the Wizard of Oz comes to mind). Combined with that is so much rich inspiration for this decade itself, coming heavily from Route 66: A Cultural History and The Grapes of Wrath specifically , as well as broader ideas of Americana, country and blues music, and the symbolism/beauty of the desert.

This decade has also really made me realize just how much inspiration I draw from place, and how it not only influences my style of descriptive writing (which in and of itself is inspired by Anne Rice), but also makes me so interested in how a location and its history influences people and the path of the story. I feel like it grounds me not just in a time period, but how that time period may have been different in specific locations and how different characters react to those factors.

[inkdemonapologist]

How do you feel about the upcoming DCTL graphic novel?

Cautiously optimistic!

When I first heard the rumours, before Adrienne’s announcement, I had pretty mixed feelings. My background is in comics, like that’s what I went to school for and worked on semi-professionally for years, and I love it as a storytelling medium, so I’m really intrigued to see how they handle the adaptation…and I also really, really don’t envy whoever has to make decisions on how to depict these characters.

But the announcement is encouraging! I haven’t kept up with Chris Hastings’ more recent work, but I remember enjoying Dr. McNinja back in the day, so I have to admit there’s something exciting about seeing a name I recognise and can be hopeful about to do a good job with the adaptation. Checking out the artist’s work, I’m gonna put a lot of my poker chips on “Sammy will look really normal actually,” but I don’t think that’s a dealbreaker – like, Dober’s Sammy is a big fav as far as Sammy designs go, and I think he’s a good example of how you can still get great Sammy vibes in a more conventionally attractive face. (though i also think there’s a chance of “the artist will lean fully into his unhinged vibes and make Sammy look like a batman villain” so wE’LL SEE!!) Genuinely, the artist’s portfolio seems well-suited to this. I would’ve pictured DCTL with a rougher, more indie look if you asked me to pick a fitting style, but I think this artist's slick Western-Comic-Book style with its strong spot blacks could be a REAL good fit for the inky vibes this story demands, and they don’t have the level of “sameface” that I’d usually be concerned about with these kinds of styles; there’s enough solid variation in their character art that I believe they can handle all the characters needed, and also do a cool ink demon.

DCTL does have some design questions that are genuinely pretty fraught, in that there's no perfect way to handle it (Norman’s a great example; do you take someone that 80% of the fandom has been drawing as a black man for years and make him canonically white, or do you present the Weirdo Creeping Around In The Shadows Who Mysteriously Gives The Protags Supernatural Info And Then Dies At The End And Nobody Misses Him as canonically a person of colour??? ROUGH CHOICE I DO NOT ENVY), but I'm still so curious to see designs for these guys, and my big hope is that the fandom will be understanding of the huge task the creators have been given and that this won't be regarded with the pressure of getting “The Official Canon Design That I'll Be Mad If It Josses My Interpretation” – like, getting an official Henry & non-old-man Joey in BatDR just felt like, y’know, seeing anyone in the fandom make a new set of designs. It feels like drawing fanart of the BatDR AU; it doesn’t mean my henry and joey designs are Obsolete. And I hope these designs are enjoyed from that perspective, as a new DCTL Comic AU, and that the fandom takes whatever we get as less THIS HAS TO MATCH MY PERCEPTION OF SAMMY B/C ITS THE OFFICIAL REAL SAMMY and more just, a take on a design for Sammy Lawrence.

Though of course I can’t help but be a little more anxious about Sammy specifically, haha. He is my big fav after all, and as embarrassing as he is in DCTL it has become a part of his story I’m quite attached to. A lot of humanity could be added to him or taken away depending on how he’s drawn… I don’t want to get my hopes up, but it’s hard not to hope that he’ll have Good Sammy Vibes that Resonate With Me Specifically.

And in general, my expectations are still tempered – the comic could certainly turn out to be very mediocre, especially depending on how well the artist is paid and how much time the creators can afford to put into it – but tbh I’m super interested in how this turns out. I can’t wait to see Joey in this style and it’ll be SURREAL to see a comic of like……. BatIM humans…… I’ve wanted sincere visual content about the humans for a long time and I’m stunned we’re actually getting it, so I’m feeling kinda cautiously eager!! I’m also curious if the comic will make an effort to preserve Buddy’s “voice” from the original novel, and how that will be handled – like, the whole book is really strongly framed as being written by Buddy, and that’s not just an incidental detail; it fleshes out his feelings about Dot, ambiguously gives us info on Boris without directly revealing the ending, and shapes the way he presents some moments as unreliable and time jumping strangely – he even talks about the frustration of not being able to just draw these things and having to describe them! (RELATABLE) – but at the same time, just filling a whole comic with tons of narration boxes is not usually a great artistic choice. It’s a really interesting challenge for the adaptation, and I’m curious if they’ll shift away from the framing device altogether or look for a balance to keep it.

Anyway TL;DR I’m keeping my expectations low but I’m really intrigued!! I don’t know if I’ll, like, actually acquire it; I usually don’t buy JDS Inc. stuff, but I feel more wibbly about the books in general b/c of how strongly I appreciate Adrienne Kress specifically, so we’ll see how I’m feeling when it comes out, haha.

[kitkatsudon]

So. Today has been a weird day.

Rambles below, because I’m in my feelings but that doesn’t necessarily have to be your problem.

The first thing I saw when I woke up today was that Ice Adolescence had been cancelled. The second thing piece of news I received, within a few minutes of this, was that my Grandma had passed away.

The second thing is more personal, and I haven’t come here to talk about that - I suppose more than anything it’s to give context on today’s slightly weird vibe, and why I’m feeling perhaps more nostalgic than I would be normally.

Perhaps as a distraction, I want to ramble about YOI.

Though now I’ve sat down to actually do this… where do I start?

Though my internet presence is very TKEM-focused nowadays, since its release, YOI has always been incredibly dear to me. It came out just as I had found out that my family were going to be moving across the country (and ok, in the UK that’s maybe less of a big deal than if I lived in a larger country, but I was 14, and 14 is a horrible age, so it was still a big deal to me). YOI came out in late 2016, we moved at the beginning of 2017, and I joined a much smaller school with… let’s say less choice for the people I could make friends with.

I was, technically, adopted by a friendship group, but it took a long time, some falling outs within the group, and me learning everything there ever was to know about BTS despite having no real passion for music-based fandoms for me to really feel included. The friendship group I’d left behind was much more diverse in terms of interests, and we thrived on mutual sharing and acceptance of each other’s interests. This new one was more kind of “conform or fuck you,” and I never quite managed to conform properly.

All that is to say… while I didn’t really have friends, in 2017, I had YOI and its fandom. While I was dealing with the huge changes in my life, I was comforted through it by, more than anything else, lurking around the YOI fandom. I had my first forays into posting things online using Google+, of all things (my parents didn’t let me have social media, but I could access this using my gmail), and they were drawings I had done of YOI characters, even a hand-drawn anecdote comic thing, and just… it was rudimentary, but you gotta start somewhere, right?

It became what I was known for, in my new school. It became part of me. That summer, my family went on holiday to Orlando FL to do the theme parks, and despite that having been something that I’d been begging to do for years, what I ended up being most excited about was the opportunity to go to Hot Topic and buy the YOI merch that they’d recently announced. I bought a T-shirt, a blanket, and a backpack, and although the backpack’s strap broke after a year of using it for school, I still have the T-shirt and the blanket, and they’re still special to me to this day. Back then, listening to the soundtrack on repeat, I’d decided that one day I was going to perform a dance routine to ‘In regards to love: Eros,’ and at the end of my first year of uni, that was something I was actually able to do. Was it good? Not really, I’m by no means a professional dancer, but I felt like I was paying homage to my inner��� not quite child, more like my inner angsty teenager?

My whatsapp background is still YOI-themed. I still proudly display my Funko Pops and my posters in my bedroom at home. YOI is still my comfort show, and though I’m not usually one for rewatching shows, it’s still the show that I’ve rewatched the most. Even my username is a relic of my ties to the YOI fandom - though I wasn’t really using it much then, it’s something I thought up during the days when I was deepest in it, and I thought to myself “if I ever am brave enough to really start posting things online, this is the username I’ll use.” So even though the first thing I ever posted under the name KitKatsudon was the beginning of a BTS fanfiction on Quotev on all places that I was writing with a friend of mine at the time, it has its roots in YOI.

It’s sort of funny - once upon a time, I used to semi-joke that I couldn’t die before the YOI movie came out. Don’t get me wrong, my mental health was never bad enough that I had actually realistically considered not making it to Ice Ado’s release, but every time I said it, I did mean it. No matter how shitty I felt, I had to keep going, because I was going to have my bum in a seat when it eventually released in cinemas. I guess what this means now is that, unless Ice Ado is picked up by another studio, I’m just never going to die 🤷‍♀️ you’d better buckle the fuck up, mortals, because MAPPA has just granted me ultimate power.

What am I trying to say? I don’t really know. Maybe thank you, to the YOI team, for being such a positive force in my life. You gave me something comforting to hold onto while everything around me was changing, while I was starting my sexuality journey, while I didn’t have the close support of peers to help boost my mood. I don’t watch the show so often nowadays, but that’s because I save it for instances where I really need comforting. Maybe like today.

The story of Ice Adolescence may be over, at least for now, but I’ll always be grateful for what we did get.

[merinsedai]

Happy November!

Actually, I don’t really like November, usually. So many dark and gloomy days where I live; and so long until the weather will improve!

October roundup:

An up and down month. Started off with covid, so felt dreadful and just lived in my bedroom for the best part of a week whilst husbae did the full time job and all the parenting/meals etc etc. what a star he is.

Missed the wedding I was meant to attend as though I’d recovered enough to go, Mr 4 was ill and so I had to stay and look after him. Too late to cancel my hotel booking as well. Right bugger. In 2023, I have had three arrangements to meet actual friends in the flesh and I’ve managed 1 of those. The universe is set on me not having even a modicum of a social life.

I had to cancel my work that I’d booked, then there was no more work until the 30th. Some of that was half term, the rest… well there probably would have been work to pick up if I’d asked but I didn’t so… not a great month in the earnings department. Currently three days into a three week booking and that’s going ok.

Managed the birthday and the party without incident. Thank God for soft play and paying other people to basically do the whole thing for you. Don’t think I could’ve coped with running an old fashioned party at my house. All those 4/5 year olds… no thanks.

Made it to the caravan in Wales for the half term holiday. Mostly fine, as fine as holidays with small Chn can get. Miss 7 developed an appalling cold which she has subsequently passed to me. It is currently sitting in my chest and making me sound like a 40 a day smoker. Nice.

All that nice self care stuff I set up in September (the make up and body care stuff) was derailed when covid hit and hasn’t really picked up again. Turns out losing habits is far easier than maintaining. A bit of mascara here and there to stop me looking truly horrendous but not much else. Must get back to it. Still closing my rings, probably should up the goal to make it more challenging.

Actually managed to complete my October challenge- the sandtober daily drawing prompts. It was good. I did almost all of them the night they were ‘due’ c10pm, since inspiration never struck until then. It seems I still require the impetus of a deadline to actually get my arse in gear and do something. Did I improve over the month? Mm perhaps. I was exceptionally rusty, the only things I’d drawn in the past decade or so were shit renditions of Peppa Pig or the Octonauts for the toddlers. Toddlers are easily pleased, luckily. Also learned (no… confirmed. I already knew it) that I lack any creativity, because if there isn’t something to copy then I can’t do it. If there *is* something to copy, I can produce vague facsimiles (as long as no one is looking for shading or whatever) with varying degrees of success.

For November’s “thing”, I’ve signed to to a writing challenge. I don’t know why really, see above about the lack of creativity I possess. I just… came out a heart scan at the hospital and thought ‘fuck it’ and signed up. I’m even less practised in writing than I am in drawing (though I read voraciously and everyone knows that’s ‘so helpful for building vocabulary etc’ 😅) but… we shall see how it progresses.

OH and storm Babet blew down a massive bough from one of the old ash trees in my garden. It’s currently sitting and destroying the lawn, just waiting for the tree surgeons to come and take care of it and check that the rest of the tree is still ok.

This is a fooking big branch. We have a decent sized garden and it’s taking up most of it. The satellite branches we’ve removed already are six ft long. And they’re like twigs compared to the main thing.

[littlerabbittarot]

When You’re a Quart Low, You May Need to Journal

When emotions get high and thoughts are hard to control, that’s how I know it’s been too long since I’ve journaled.

It’s funny that it has taken me a while to notice this is something that happens at all. As I’ve grown more and more in practicing mindfulness, you start to pick up on things you didn’t realize before. Being present isn’t just a state of awareness of what is going on around you, but also why. 

Tools like tarot have aided me a lot in my journaling journey, and made it much easier and approachable for me to jot down my thoughts and let my emotions out on the page. Of course, the health benefits of journaling cannot be, in my opinion, understated, so naturally the times when I journal are the times where I feel I am at my best, even if those times are difficult. Journaling gives me a place to vent, to plan, to organize. And gradually, those effects can be felt, giving me strength.

Likewise, when I lax in my journaling, losing out on those meditative moments that I give to myself to ponder and heal, that toxicity begins to build up. Like a messy room full of clutter, the mind starts to reek with junk thoughts and anxiety buzzing like flies you cannot swat away.

As someone who did have a habit of journaling every day for some time, I began to take the benefits for granted, and eventually journaled less and less. While I’ve discussed why I don’t journal every day anymore, which I still stand by for me personally, it’s clear that I would still benefit from more regular occasions. Once about a month or two pass without me really sitting down and meditating with my thoughts more methodically than just letting them drift by, that’s when I start to feel unwell and more easily agitated.

I take being able to recognize that as a win, however, and am grateful for the years of journaling I have done to learn myself well enough to catch this when it happens. Similar to ‘Spoon Theory’, understanding that you only have so much energy (spoons) in a day to give to tasks, or as my mom would say when her kids (and now grandkids) start to get hangry: You’re a quart low — practicing being aware of these moments of anger, upsetness, etc., can help you take action to address things sooner and more efficiently. Am I more easily upsettable than usual? Would I normally be so agitated about this thing? Maybe I should [eat, sleep, shower, or — journal]. ;)

And so, journal I did! Wanting to use a more gentler deck to ease back into things, I was immediately drawn to ‘Great Eastern Oracle’ by Rassouli. After shuffling the cards, what I pulled was exactly what I needed to hear.

“Re-create yourself: Feel the thrill of the ride.” Such wonderfully powerful words with an equally beautiful artwork to accompany it. Almost as if the figure was offering up this creation to themselves, holding it up with pride, like saying, “Look at who I am. Look what I can create. Look at who I can be.”

The guidebook also had words that hit especially strongly for me: “You are the creator of change in your life, because you can choose the direction and actions you take.”

Something I always try to incorporate into my practice, be it readings for myself or for any querents, is to make one feel empowered. I want to feel capable of action, of change, of strength. And what could be more empowering than the message of you holding all the power? Circumstances will always be what they are, but how you respond and react to them is ultimately something you control. And to hear the message of being able to create change in my life filled me with such energy and hope.

I can be a bit stubborn at times when it comes to learning lessons, so hopefully with enough iterations of me realizing how beneficial and useful it is to journal more than once a month will kick in eventually, haha. But maybe me writing this all out here will serve as a reminder to you as well. Perhaps this is an opportunity for you to journal too.

How do you feel after you’ve journaled your thoughts? In what ways have you found journaling helpful for you?

— 

Thank you for reading! I hope to continue to blog about tarot, mental health, and similar topics. Feel free to follow, or support me on Ko-Fi.

-LR🐇

[inadaydream99]

10 Things I Hate About You

Renjun x fem! Reader, angst to fluff, high school au, feat. NCT dream

A/N - inspired by one of my all time favourite movies! Also, this is a high school au, which is not usually my best, but it felt wrong making it anything except that consider what it’s inspired by 😂

Additional note: this is not trying to replicate the film.

Disclaimer: this does not represent any of the members in real life and is for entertainment purposes only. Mentions of alcohol/ drinking. Some explicit language. Any more I’ve missed, please let me know!

How did it come to this?

A person you used to find so much comfort in; used to want to be around all the time; used to care for more than anyone else in the world, now ignores your existence. To say that you don’t resent him a little would be a lie. But that doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

You used to be best friends, two fearless kids dreaming about their futures together and never once thinking anything could tear them apart. You fell in love with the way his smile would reach all the way to his eyes and the little crinkles that would form because of it. You fell in love with the sound of his laugh and the muted grumbles that tumbled past his lips whenever something annoyed him. But, most of all, you fell in love with him. Your best friend.

You knew you weren’t supposed to. But it felt like every coming of age movie showed the best friend as the knight in shining armour and the protagonists’ happily ever after. You believed Renjun was just that for you. He was your everything.

The problem was that you got tired of waiting for Renjun to notice you. He was always the more popular one, the one with good grades and many admirers. And as you grew older, you grew apart. In 9th grade, he began getting distant, only hanging out with you a few times a week. 10th grade, Renjun joined the football team and so you’d only get to see him if he didn’t have practice, which was a rare occasion. But by 11th grade, football had completely taken over his life. He was the promising future for the schools team and the most popular guy in the entire school. That was also the time he got a girlfriend, Elle. I mean, what’s the most popular boy without the most popular girl, right?

You on the other hand, had been completely outcasted by your so called best friend. So by the time you were in senior year, you were still a nobody, the shy girl in the corner. Completely unseen.

“I can’t believe Mr. Payne gave me a 84.” Mark complains beside you. The most studious person you’ve ever met and top of the class, he’s your only proper friend. You’re thankful to have Mark. Outcasts together, you always like to say. But, truth is, high school has never been that kind to either of you. “He’s such a-”

“Pain?” You smirk, finally lifting your head away from picking at the soggy fries on the table in front of you. Mark only rolls his eyes at you, letting out a dissatisfied huff.

“I’m just glad we don’t have long left in this hell-hole of a school.” He bitterly mumbles. Normally you’d find Mark amusing, but right now you’re too distracted.

From across the cafeteria you hear an eruption of laughter, your attention being drawn onto the left-hand corner, also known as the football teams table. From amongst the crowd of adoring people, there in the centre sits Renjun surrounded by his fellow members: Jaemin, Jeno, Donghyuck, Chenle and Jisung. While everyone else is having a great time, he looks heartbroken, but that’s not surprising considering he’d recently gotten dumped. Yes, Elle had dropped him for some college guy she’d met while on spring break. Apparently she’d dumped Renjun over text the day before school resumed.

You know you shouldn’t, but there’s still a part of you that clings onto the hope of him. That maybe if you look for long enough, he’ll look up and notice you, maybe even send you a small smile. Ever since he’d become single, you’ve found yourself fantasising about it even more.

“(Y/N), you’re staring again.” Mark sighs, snapping you out of your daydream. “I don’t know what you see in him.” Mark continues, watching as a frown overtakes your face.

You pick up a fry and begin playing around with it on your plate. “I just,” you sigh. “I know what he’s really like. And that is not the real Renjun over there.”

“(Y/N).” Mark grabs onto your wrist. Your eyes flicker up to meet his sympathetic look. “He got dared to put itch powder in my gym shorts last week.”

You wince at the thought, shaking your head. But you’re adamant that’s not a reflection of the person he is underneath. The football team are notorious for their pranks. He’s just lost himself in all the popularity.

“So prom isn’t far away.” Jaemin wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“Ugh. Don’t even go there.” Renjun complains. “I was meant to go with Elle.”

“Oh forget about her.” Donghyuck pats his sulking friend on the back a little too harshly, earning a glare. “We’re going to find you someone much better.”

He looks a bit too confident in himself, but that just about sums Donghyuck up in everything really.

“You’re going to find someone better than the most popular girl in the school?” Chenle almost spit-takes his drink upon hearing Jeno’s disbelieving tone.

“No, but we can make one.” Donghyuck grins.

Renjun sends an unsure glance around the table. It seems that everyone gets what his friend means except for him.

~

As it turns out, Donghyuck’s plan is to find someone under the radar who the group can turn into one of them. It should be easy considering they know everything it takes to be a popular. Renjun only has to show slight interest in someone and the school will be all over them. It’s just, he needs to figure out who has the most potential…

“(Y/N)!” Chenle almost makes you drop your books as he jumps out from behind your locker door.

“Shit Chenle, do you want to give me a heart attack?” Your breathlessness makes Chenle feel triumphant.

Chenle knows so many people, he’s practically friends with everyone in your school, so you never really thought too deeply about it when he first took an interest in you. He’s one of the few people that makes you feel seen and so you’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for him.

You were actually seated next to each other in biology a few years back and, from then on, you’ve always been friendly with each other in passing. Like right now.

“I wanted to know if you’re free this Friday? I’m having a party.” He beams. You’re flattered to be invited, but knowing the crowd that will be attending, you don’t think it’s the right place for you.

“I would, but I- uh- have to-” your eyes glance around the hall, searching for anything to help you with a viable excuse. “I have piano practice.”

Really? That’s that best you could come up with?

Donghyuck sneakily observes from his locker a few doors away. Initially, he’d been curious as to why Chenle is giving you the time of day. But, as he sneaked glances, he finds your shyness quite endearing and that you are actually kinda cute in a subtle sort of way. He remembers from way back, when you and Renjun used to be close, and you’d wear the same braided piggy tails to school everyday. You’d always had a soft nature. Very approachable. Very likeable.

Very promising.

“Sup Chenle, (Y/N).” Your eyes widen when Donghyuck approaches, leaning on Chenle’s shoulder and turning his attention onto you. You feel yourself shrink under his confidences stare.

“(Y/N) here was just trying to get out of my party on Friday.” You suck in a breath at Chenle’s words. Why did he have to tell one of the loudest people in your school that information!

“Yeah, piano lessons, right?” Donghyuck smirks. “Can’t imagine anything more exhilarating!” The faux enthusiasm almost makes you laugh. Emphasis on almost.

“What’s going on here?” his voice hits you before you see him. Renjun joins Chenle and Donghyuck, seemingly blocking the only space you could have used as an escape route if needed. Now you’re just crowded into the wall of lockers.

“I’ve found some potential.” Donghyuck states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And it seems that maybe it is, because you’re the only one who’s confused.

~

“Absolutely not!”

“But why?” Donghyuck makes a scene as he chases after Renjun.

You’d managed to escape your entrapment against the lockers by the bell for final period. During which, is when Donghyuck had sneakily sent a text to Renjun explaining to him the reasons why you were the perfect choice.

The second class was dismissed, Renjun had bolted out of the classroom, through the corridors and out of the back exit towards the fields. Of course, Donghyuck was hot on his tail the whole way, both of them shouting back and forth to one another as Renjun desperately tried to get away.

“Give me one good reason.” Donghyuck stops Renjun by grabbing onto his shoulder, both of them now stood in the middle of the empty football field.

“Because!” Renjun’s fists are clenched, teeth gritted, unbelievably angry with his friend. “Because we have history.”

“Which is exactly why she’s perfect!” Donghyuck tries his best to convince. But it’s to no avail, Renjun letting out a huff of laughter as he begins to walk away once again.

“Think about it this way. (Y/N)’s invisible, we can literally shape her into anything we want.” Renjun stops in his tracks, looking over his shoulder to see his friends pleading expression. “We- you know her better than anyone in this school. We can make her your dream girl, you’ll be back in a power couple, win prom king and leave the legacy you’ve always wanted…”

Prom king, football captain, scholarship to his choice of college…

Renjun hates that Donghyuck always seems to be right. Manipulating you into popularity would be easy considering his social power, he could still get his dream ending to high school.

“This isn’t me agreeing, but how exactly are we going to achieve this?”

Donghyuck’s smile is almost too elated over Renjun’s intrigue. The excitement is too much to contain.

~

“I thought you hated parties?” You raise a brow in Mark’s direction.

“That was before I’d actually been invited to any…”

You chuckle at him, lightly rolling your eyes at his reasoning. It seems funny but you understand where he’s coming from.

“Have you been to any?”

Mark’s question makes you feel a little uneasy. Similarly to him, you’re not really that into parties because it’s rare you’re invited. The last one you attended was when you were 13; the exciting, and definitely not awkward, time when you’ve just become a teen. It was also around the time that you noticed some of the people in your grade had become interested in relationships.

You remember you’d been roped into a game of spin the bottle - daring for you at the time - and everyone was giddy with the anticipation of kissing their crush. Of course, you were secretly hoping you’d get to kiss Renjun. So when Elle had spun the bottle and it landed on him you had tried your best to hide your disappointment. Of course, back then you weren’t mature enough to realise the depth of your feelings towards your then best friend Renjun. Nor were you too happy over the fact that the bottle had decided your first kiss would with with Donghyuck.

“Not really.” You hesitantly laugh, deciding you’d rather not relive that memory out loud.

“Then we should definitely go!” Mark enthusiastically tries to persuade.

Your mind flashes back to your earlier encounter in the hall, the obnoxiously cocky look on Donghyuck’s face and the way he’d made you feel pressured to attend. Then Renjun flashes into focus, the momentary concern behind his eyes before he realised it was you being practically held hostage by his friends. You know the sweet and caring person is still underneath the layers of his persona somewhere…

“Ok.” You nod. “Let’s go to Chenle’s party.”

~

Friday morning sees a fresh wave of anxiety wash over you. You’re exhausted; it feels like this week has lasted for an eternity…

On Wednesday, Chenle had sought you out while you were walking to history with Mark - who’s eyes had lit up when Chenle patted him on the back and began talking to him about Friday. Although, you have to admit, it was kind of cute seeing Mark and Chenle’s friendship blossom.

And yesterday had just been completely strange. What had started with Chenle joining you for lunch, had then introduced Jisung to your table, which then bought over Jeno (who cannot live for a second without Jisung). This meant that Jaemin joined your newly forming group, because you don’t get Jeno without him. Donghyuck then rushed over to join because he didn’t want to sit alone. Which, finally, led to a confused Renjun approaching his (now empty) usual lunch table, only to be called over to where you were all sat by the person who started it all; Chenle.

It felt weird and wrong and all sorts of awkward to have any of them hanging out with you in such a public place, no less being sat at the same table as Renjun himself. You could practically feel the eyes burning into you from onlookers around the cafeteria as he approached your table and took the last seat, right beside you. You’re too shy to even sneak a look at him, particularly with so many chances of getting caught by someone. So you remain quiet, head ducked down to keep your focus on the food you’ve now lost your appetite for.

But then the unexpected happened.

You felt a light nudge to your arm, flickering your eyes up to find Renjun already look at you. It feels as though time freezes as you make eye contact with him for the first time in years. His ebony eyes shimmer under the artificial lights, projecting a glimmering honey swirl that ignites a warm, fuzzy feeling in your stomach. The small smile that slowly stretches across his lips, although subtle, is inviting and you find yourself instinctively reciprocating with one of your own. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to elbow you.” His velvety voice washes over you and your heart hammers in your chest. You simply replied with an “It’s ok. Accidents happen.” Before the little bubble between you was burst and Renjun’s attention was pulled onto his friends.

“(Y/N)!” You jolt back into reality, feeling heat quickly raise up your neck. “You zoned out again.” Mark chuckles. It’s embarrassing enough how many times you’ve found yourself replaying your interaction with Renjun to yourself, let alone getting caught by anyone else and them figuring it out.

“Is she always like this?” Chenle teases and you let out a noise in protest when Mark nods yes back.

“It’s too early to focus!” Your justification seems pointless, Mark and Chenle simply laughing together.

As they begin to walk down the corridor towards first period, you find yourself third wheeling, quickly grabbing the books you need from your locker, slamming it shut without a care for how loud it is, and rushing after them to math.

“Do you really think this is going to work?” Renjun anxiously questions Donghyuck. The closer to math they get, the more nervousness Renjun feels bubble in the bottom of his stomach.

After hearing out each step of Donghyuck’s plan, he’d found himself convinced by his charismatic descriptions, painting the perfect outcome for Renjun. He knows Renjun too well, almost better than himself at times.

All Renjun has to do this morning is sit near enough to you to pass you a note during class. A little old school, yes, but Donghyuck is adamant that it’s a romantic gesture. Or at least, it’s sweet.

Entering class, Renjun immediately spots you sat on the desk directly behind Mark and Chenle. He can’t help the smile that adorns his face when he notices that the seat right beside you is empty.

“Is this seat taken?” Your head snaps up, mouth hanging agape when you hear his unmistakable voice. But the suddenness is too unexpected for you to be able to form words, shaking your head no instead.

You half expect Renjun to pick up the chair and take it to a different spot. But he simply slides it back and sits himself beside you instead.

From his peripheral, he can see how taken aback you are. He’s not surprised by your reaction to him, seeing that yesterday’s lunchtime encounter had you so flustered and tense. Although, it does kind of hurt a little to see you feel so awkward. He hadn’t realised how much space your time apart had created between you.

You’re thankful that the class begins almost immediately after Renjun has sat beside you; given any more time than a few seconds would have just been painful. It’s rare that you’re thankful to be studying algebra, but as your teacher begins talking through equations, you’ve never found yourself more immersed in the topic.

It’s about half way through when Renjun finally musters up enough courage to carefully nudge your elbow with his. He lets out a quiet chuckle, smiling hopefully as you look away from making notes. Without exchanging a single word, he extends his hand which holds a folded corner torn form his book between his fingers.

You sheepishly take the note, pursing your lips and narrowing your eyes in suspicion as you unfold it and read the message.

Are you going to Chenle’s tomorrow?

While it’s still the same Renjun that makes you feel on edge in his presence, there’s something adorable about the note. A simple question signifying the beginning of a conversation; an olive branch offering fresh friendship.

Maybe. Are you? You write back and slide the paper across the desk to him without bothering to fold it. You watch as he smiles, immediately writing a response.

I am and you should.

Why should I? Now he laughs.

Deciding to whisper instead of passing the note again, and because there’s no more space left, Renjun leans into your side: “Because we can hang out.”

You pull back a little after hearing his words, eyes wide. You’re a little sceptical but his smile seems genuine enough for you to give the benefit of the doubt.

Besides, how can you turn him down when he looks at you like that?

“Okay.” You whisper back.

~

Friday’s lunch is somehow even stranger than Thursday’s…

As you leave physics and step out into the hall you feel an arm wrap around your shoulder and find Donghyuck with a wide grin. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“You have?” your voice conveys more bewilderment than anything, but it really is odd for Donghyuck to give you the time of day, let alone want to talk to you.

“Uh-huh.” He nods. “Saw you passing notes with Renjun earlier. You guys looked very cute.”

You’re unsure why the fact you’d been caught passing notes with Renjun makes you feel so flustered, but it feels like you got caught cheating on a test, or scolded by a parent, or fraternising with someone way out of your league… wait, the last one isn’t untrue…

“It wasn’t really anything.” You hesitate, feeling ashamed. You don’t think Renjun would want word getting out about it, as the resident no-body, you feel like being friends with you would cause quite a detriment to his status.

“Well, it looked like you were pretty close to me.” His tone insinuates something suggestive, rather than platonic, and you feel a strong urge to reject everything Donghyuck says (nothing new there…). “And anyone who Renjun is friends with has to be cool.”

Surprised? No, astonished is a better word to explain the pure adrenaline kick that courses through you upon hearing the words “you” and “cool” in the same sentence. But nothing, I mean absolutely nothing, could have prepared you for what he says next:

“You’re one of us now (Y/N).”

After that it’s all a blur. Donghyuck led you to the popular table in the cafeteria, sat you between him and Renjun - who gave you a smile as you joined them. Had you been knocked out and woken up in a parallel universe?

It dawned on you seconds later that the seat you had wound up in used to be Renjun’s ex girlfriends, the very one you’d dreamed of being in so many times before.

It seems as though Donghyuck was right about Renjun’s status, because you found yourself suddenly thrown into the limelight. Walking down the halls, you were being acknowledged by people you were certain didn’t know you previously existed. In your final period, you’d had many offers for seat partners, and to top it all off, Renjun had called you over to sit with him. Literally. Called your name. In front of everyone.

You can’t imagine you’d looked anything less than the ripest red tomato to ever exist as you’d swallowed the lump of nervousness in your throat and complied to his request.

“I can not believe you!” The second you’re outside of the school gates, Mark rushes over to you in pure excitement, holding you by both shoulders and jumping up and down.

“I think there’s been a glitch in the matrix.” You snicker. Mark rolls his eyes in response.

“Can you not just enjoy this?” He chastises. “You are the moment.” Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes.

“It’s crazy how one person can hold so much power, don’t you think?” Your tone conveys displeasure. But inside, you do feel quite giddy with your newfound popularity.

“Yeah, and you’re his obsession.” Mark states like it’s the best thing in the world. But being an obsession is a little frightening. There’s something about it that seems temporary and pressuring; you’ve been chosen and you could be dropped at any moment. You don’t know if you can face being dropped by Renjun again…

~

Mark being as eager as ever had dragged you to the party so early that you were the first to arrive. Of course, Chenle was ecstatic when he swung open the front door of his mansion to reveal you and Mark.

Chenle is the most unsurprising of the whole popular group. Rich, lives in a mansion, owns all the of the latest designer fashion and has a huge pool in his backyard. Just as you’d expected.

“Dude!” Mark exclaims the second his eyes set sights on the chocolate fountain; rushing over immediately.

“I’m sorry about him.” You chuckle along with Chenle. He doesn’t seem to mind at all, if anything, he’s more amused by Mark’s joy than you are.

“Trust me, it’s not the first time I’ve seen someone get that excited over a chocolate fountain.” Chenle shakes his head. He recalls the first time Jisung had attended one of his parties and spent most of the evening walking around with a chocolate moustache… that was the moment Chenle knew he had to become best friends with this guy. “You look phenomenal by the way, really living up to your newfound fame.”

“Thanks.” You self-consciously look down at your dress, brushing your hands along the fabric to press out any creases. It’s a never seen before outfit of yours, one that you bought last summer when you’d hoped of having a glow-up but then never felt confident enough to actually wear.

Before you have a chance to compliment Chenle’s outfit, the doorbell has rung and he’s rushed off to answer it. It doesn’t take long for the party to become crowded with people. Now you understand why Chenle has such a huge house - or, you should say, why he takes advantage of the fact his parents do.

You’d lost Mark as soon as people had arrived, being swarmed around by power-hungry classmates. It even took Renjun ages to find you. But when he did, he wasted no time in saving you from the overwhelming sea of admirers.

“It’s intense isn’t it?” He jokes, but half of him is a little concerned for you. He’s used to receiving lots of attention, but he knows you’re naturally more reserved. He kind of feels bad.

“Just a bit.” You breathlessly laugh, just thankful that he’d helped you escape.

It’s funny how people don’t seem to approach you while you’re stood with Renjun. You always thought he must have been really approachable to be so popular, but it seems as though most people choose to admire from afar. Reality is he’s perfected being the exact right amount of approachable and off limits. Most don’t talk to him unless he initiates it, other than his close circle of friend of course.

“Well, I’m here now. No need to worry.” There’s a protectiveness in his tone that makes you feel safe. It’s a glimpse of the old Renjun. He always used to make you feel safe when you were younger.

You remember when you were six, playing in the park together. You’d fallen off the swings and grazed your knees pretty badly where you’d slip across the rough tarmac of the playground. Falling into a blubbering mess, Renjun had been by your side the whole time; taking your hand in his, calming you down until you’d stopped crying by trying to make you smile and laugh. He’d eventually coaxed you into standing up, and helped you hobble back home. He was so caring like that.

Looking at him now, it’s almost hard to believe it’s the same person. Gone were his large-rimmed glasses and cute snag tooth. He always kept himself immaculate, hair neatly parted and brushed away from his forehead, clothes always the latest fashion and perfectly matched to his pristine image. Not one thing out of place.

“I know this all seems so sudden.” He confesses. “But I’m here for you whenever you need, always have been.”

The depth of his words hit you like a ton of bricks, rendering you speechless. High school may have sent you down different paths, but now you know he never stopped caring for you, just like you had never stopped caring for him.

Nothing more is needed to be exchanged between you, both of you sharing infatuated smiles.

To others around you, it looks as though you’re falling in love, spellbound by the person in front of you. Gossip never takes long to spread and before you know it, everyone is talking about the new golden couple in the making.

~

“Last one in the pool has to stay up and clean this mess.” Chenle’s words make you all shoot up and launch yourself into the pool as quickly as possible.

It’s the early hours of the morning and the party had fizzled out hours ago at this point. Now, the only people left other than you and Chenle are Renjun, Mark, Donghyuck, Jisung and Jeno. Jaemin is technically still here, if you count the fact that he’s fast asleep on the sofa inside.

You resurface from the pool in fits of giggles only to be splashed in the face by a person on your left.

“Whoops.” Renjun smirks. There was no way it was unintentional, hearty laughter emitting from him when you send a splash of water to his face in retaliation.

“Hey!” He feigns offence, splashing you back again.

“Water fight!” Donghyuck announces at the top of his lungs, launching everyone into a frenzy.

A particularly strong wave of water shoots up your nose, leaving a painful sting in its wake, and you find yourself blindly trying to manoeuvre your way to the edge of the pool for some air.

You squeak when someone comes up behind you, pinching their fingers into your waist and making you jolt.

“Where’d you think you’re going?” The culprit, clearly Renjun, keeps you in his hold. You force a huff through your nose to clean out any remaining water before turning to face him.

Seeing the way you look pained makes him worry, his hand cupping your cheek as he leans his face in closer to get a good look at you.

“Too much?” His concern makes your stomach flip, literally peering into your soul with his intensely troubled gaze. You nod. “Let’s get you out of the pool.” He affirms, keeping you close to him as he carefully leads you towards the steps.

The cool nighttime air makes your bones shiver, your dress soaking wet and clinging to your trembling frame. Renjun tells you to wait where you are, momentarily leaving you to reach for a towel that had been discarded on one of the sun loungers. When he returns, he wraps is around your shoulders, gently untucking your hair from beneath.

By this point, the water fight had stopped and, unbeknownst to you and Renjun, everyone had been watching. It’s not until after you have wiped your eyes with the towel that you take notice of the silence and slowly shift your gaze in the direction of the pool.

“Don’t mind us!” Jeno shouts from the opposite end; dunked under the water by Mark beside him straight after.

“Let’s get you inside.” Renjun suggests, not really caring much for the audience who have now turned their attention onto Jeno’s retaliation towards Mark.

~

Watching as you take a seat by the kitchen counter, Renjun is reminded of Donghyuck’s ingenious next part of the plan.

“I’m sure Chenle keeps herbal tea or coco somewhere around here.” Renjun begins to search through every cupboard, but he’s stopped by your hand reaching across the counter and grabbing onto his, meeting your thankful smile.

“I promise I’m fine.”

It seems to be enough for Renjun to settle, dropping the idea of making a warm drink.

Moving his hand so he’s able to interlace your fingers with his, Renjun watches your expression carefully for any sign of discomfort or rejection. He feels relief wash over him where he finds none.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you this all night,” he nervously begins. “Would you want to have lunch together, just us, on Monday?”

The hopeful glint in his eye and the way he subconsciously chews on his bottom lip is adorable. It’s a little funny that he looks so nervous considering you’ve literally sat at the same lunch table with his group for the last two days.

Of course, you understand that this is another level in your growing friendship. It’s not just an offer to spend more time together, it’s to make a public statement about your friendship - relationship - whatever this is.

“I’d love to.” You beam, giggling as you watch the overjoyed excitement that consumes his previously nervous look.

~

Monday rolls around quicker than you’d expected, although you’re not dreading it like you usually do. Saturday and Sunday were pretty uneventful, if you excuse the copious amounts of follows on social media, which you hate to admit was actually quite exciting. You liked being seen.

You’d also been exchanging messages with Renjun for the duration, sending different memes and poking fun at each other, which you had enjoyed. It felt like you’d resumed the friendship you were always meant to have together.

The first thing you do every morning when you get to school is head to your locker to get the books you need for your first few classes. It’s usually a very mundane, but necessary exchange. So what you don’t expect to see is Renjun leaning against your locker, flicking through his phone with one hand and holding a flower in his other.

His attention is directed away from his social media feed when he hears someone clear their throat, a smile forming across his face when he looks up to find you, arms folded across your chest and one brow raised, waiting for him to move and trying to suppress the happiness your feel from seeing him in person again.

“For you.” He holds out the flower, a small pink rose.

There’s something timid in the action, the vulnerability maybe? Whatever it is, Renjun feels so glad when you accept it, the pink of the rose petals matching the colouring of your cheeks perfectly.

When Donghyuck had suggested that this should be Renjun’s next move, he’d wanted to curl up in a ball and hide. He’s never been one for romantic gestures, finding them more cringy than anything. But, he was reminded of what he could achieve. The few seconds of embarrassment would surely be worth his dreams. And so he’d caved in and stopped at a florist on his way to school that morning.

“It’s beautiful, thank you.” You look from the rose up to Renjun, beaming in his direction. Opening your locker, you place the rose on top of the books you don’t need for safe keeping.

“Ready for class?” You nod, before walking through the hallway side by side.

“Hey guys! Here’s the nominees for prom king and queen!” You’re given a poster announcing the event, featuring a list of all those who are in the race to win. You’ve never understood why it’s such a big deal to win such a temporary title, it’s only for one night. Although, you assume there must be something more to it than that. There’s got to be, right?

Renjun doesn’t look at the poster, screwing it up in his hand and chucking it in the nearest trashcan. There’s no need for him to know who he’s running against, they’re no competition for him.

“You going?” Renjun raises a brow, casting you a shy side glance. He’s hoping you’ll say you are so he won’t have to try and convince you.

“Where?” You look up at him. You hadn’t payed full attention to what he had said as you had been judging the poster, folding it and putting it in your bag quickly.

“To prom.” He clarifies, fighting back his amused smirk.

“Oh!” Your eyes widen in realisation. “I’m undecided.” You shrug.

Truth be told, you weren’t really planning on going. But, that was before there was any possibility of being asked by someone. As pathetic as it sounds, you wanted to feel wanted, if that makes sense. Now, however, you’re undecided. If someone was to ask you then you’d consider going. But, if there was a chance that Renjun would ask you, you know you’d say yes in a heartbeat.

“Are you going?” You ask back.

“I’m in the running for prom king, so I kind of have to.” He teases, watching as you realise how dumb your question was.

Of course he’s going! You mentally face palm.

By this point, you’ve reached class and taken a seat, Renjun still beside you. Not knowing what to say next, you fiddle with your pen as a form of distraction.

“I have football practice fourth period.” Renjun begins as your teacher enters the classroom. “Meet me on the fields at lunch.” He leans in to whisper the last part to you.

~

When fourth period ended, you made your way to the sports fields just like Renjun had told you to, finding him exiting the locker rooms just as you arrive.

“How was practice?” You ask as he approaches you, reaching out and capturing your hand in his. The unexpectedness of this action makes you suck in a breath.

“Good.” He looks over at you so casually, as if nothing out of the ordinary has just happened; which maybe to him is true, but for you, this isn’t something you’re used to at all. Not that you mind holding his hand though. You actually, kind of, maybe, like it… just a little bit…

“Coach made us run five laps of the field because Jeno was late. But other than that, my game is still strong.” He laughs, thinking about all the stick Jeno is going to be getting from the rest of the team.

“That’s a bit harsh? Couldn’t he have just punished Jeno?” Renjun shakes his head.

“The rule is to work as a team. If one messes up, we all do.” He explains like it’s not a big deal. You understand what he means, but it does still seam a little unfair. “As captain I have to uphold expectations, including the importance of teamwork.”

“That sounds like a lot of pressure.” You more so say to yourself, but Renjun chuckles beside you.

“Only if you see it that way. The team means everything to me.”

Having made it all the way back to the main building, Renjun asks where you want to eat lunch today. You both agree that it’s such a nice day, you should enjoy it outside while you can. And so, after grabbing some food, you spend the entire hour at one of the picnic tables together, laughing and enjoying each other’s company without a care in the world.

~

There’s been a lot going on over the last few weeks. So much so, you’re not even sure where to begin. You and Renjun have been spending time together everyday, whether it’s been having lunch just the two of you or hanging out after school, you’ve both been making plenty of time for one another.

As the semester edges closer and closer to the summer; to prom and the final of the football season for Renjun and his team, things have only been getting more hectic. There doesn’t seem to be enough hours in a day to complete all the studying for finals, attend practice after school and have a social life. And so, unbeknownst to you, Renjun has been making a few sacrifices in order to not jeopardise your budding relationship.

Everyone is talking about what’s going on between you. Are you together or just really close friends? That’s the debate that seems to be dividing everyone. Because of which, your popularity has continued to grow. Everyone wants to become your best friend, to be the first one to know about your relationship with Renjun and sit with you at the top of the social ladder. Of course, your loyalties are with Mark, the only best friend you need.

Although, you’ve not had as much time to hang out with him recently; you being occupied by Renjun and him having formed a great friendship with Chenle and some of the others from their group.

Everything seems crazy, but perfect. And you couldn’t be any happier. It’s almost too good to be true.

“Guess who finally decided to show up to practice.” Donghyuck’s sarcastic tone falls bitterly on Renjun’s ears. “You’re half an hour late.”

Renjun faces his team, who all look as pissed off with him as Donghyuck does. It wasn’t intentional on his part. It’s just, he was hanging out with you and lost track of time; you had a free period after lunch and so, it’s not like you’d realised classes had begun again.

“Sorry guys, I got caught up-”

“With (Y/N). We know.” Donghyuck flatly cuts off his friend.

“You know coach made us do press-ups until you arrived.” Jeno huffs.

“Yeah, new recruit over here almost passed out because of you.” Jaemin points over to the new addition to the team, Sungchan, who is still doubled over, hands on his knees as he tries to regain his breath.

“Sorry?” Renjun shoots them a guilty look, but none of them seem to be ready to forgive him.

“Sorry? That’s all you have to say? Some captain you are.” Donghyuck stakes a step towards Renjun as though he’s about to square him up.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Renjun broadens his chest.

“It means, you’re a shit leader. Prioritising some girl over us.” Donghyuck spits back.

“Some girl? You’re the one who told me to go for (Y/N)! You came up with the plan!” Renjun’s on the edge of rage now, fists clenched by his sides and teeth gritted.

“Yeah, but I didn’t say to abandon your team.” His voice is calmer than Renjun’s, but it spits just as much venom. “Why’d you even hang around with her so much anyway? You’re only using her so you can achieve the legacy you want to leave behind.”

When Renjun doesn’t respond, it dawns on Donghyuck the reason why.

“Wait a minute- you actually like her don’t you?” He begins to laugh, finding the whole ordeal hilarious.

“No I don’t.” Renjun bites back. “She’s a loser, why would I like her?” He doesn’t know why he’s saying that about you, why he’s putting on a front to his teammates and lying to their faces about how he really feels. What’s so wrong with liking you?

“It seems like you do.” Jaemin pipes up. However, he’s not being obnoxious like Donghyuck is, more so just voicing what every one of the team is thinking.

“You’ve got to be joking!” Renjun throws his hands in the air. “I would neve-” his words cut short as he begins to spin around from the force of his exasperation until he find you, stood behind him with tears in your eyes, looking absolutely heartbroken.

You’d heard it all…

Renjun feels like the biggest idiot alive. Watching as you run out of the locker rooms, dropping the jacket he’d let you borrow onto the floor as you leave. All you’d wanted to do was return it before your next class.

“Oh no you don’t.” Donghyuck has a hold on Renjun’s shoulder before he has a chance to run after you. “You’ve got a team to lead.”

~

You rush into the restroom, blurry eyes and tears streaming down your cheeks.

It feels as though all the air has been sucked out of your lungs and life drained from your body as it begins to weakly tremble. Holding onto the sink as you try to calm yourself, you take a few deep breaths until you’re feeling steady enough to stand properly again and fish out your phone from your back pocket.

It’s about 10 minutes into the next class now and you really don’t want to turn up late. It’ll be impossible to hide your red blotchy eyes and tear stained cheeks and everyone will know something has happened.

Instead, you begin typing a message to Mark, telling him you’re in the girls restrooms by the science department and for him to meet you there after class.

However, seconds after you’ve sent the message, your phone buzzes with a reply from him simply saying he’s on his way now.

“(Y/N)?” A timid knock sounds from the opposite side of the door, Mark’s hushed voice just about seeping through.

You step out into the empty hallway, noticing how his eyes become soft and worrisome the second he sets them on you.

“What’s happened?”

You guide Mark out of the building and into a secluded corner of grass, settling on the ground with your backs against the brick wall as you begin to relay everything that you had heard Renjun say.

To say Mark is shocked would be an understatement. But, most of all, he’s disappointed in Renjun. He really had begun to believe all the things you used to say about the ‘real’ Renjun you knew as a kid. But now he realises that he never should have, and he also never should have let you get so close to him again.

The second Renjun is able to get out of his final class, he rushes to your locker in hopes you’ll need to go there before heading home.

After you’d run away and Donghyuck hadn’t let him go after you, Renjun had spent the rest of practice being scolded by his teammates. He made a promise to them when he was elected captain; nothing is more important than the team.

He’d managed to get away with doing hardly any work during his final class, instead replaying the way you looked at him. So hurt, so heartbroken, all because of him.

As he speeds through the hallway, weaving between other students, he feels as though luck is finally on his side. There you are, stood at your locker. He feels the desperation raise within him.

He needs to get to you before you spot him. Before you leave.

“Oh, Renjun!”

He panics.

There, stood in front of him and blocking his way is Elle.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” She smiles.

Damn. Why does she always have to be so friendly, even towards her ex!

See, Elle isn’t your typical popular girl. She’s actually really sweet and kind towards everyone. That’s why she’s got so many people who look up to her.

“Yeah…” Renjun uninterestedly sighs, keeping his eyes on you from over her shoulder. He notices how your face lights up as a girl approaches you - Rina he’s thinks her name is - and you begin talking and laughing together.

“You left these at my house.” She fished out some random, unimportant, items of his from her bag: an old t-shirt, phone charger and some photos of them from when they were together.

“Oh…” His shoulders slump when he watches you shut your locker and make your way outside with Rina. “Thanks…” Renjun’s eyes flicker onto Elle’s for the first time in this conversation, forcing a meek smile as he accepts his (in his opinion, useless) possessions back.

“I heard about what happened with (Y/N).” His eyes widen, back tensing up as she extends her arm and places a comforting hand on his shoulder. To be honest, he’s not surprised she knows, the whole school probably does by this point. But he’s sure there’s nothing more horrific than talking to his last girlfriend about the one he hopes will be in the future… “She’ll forgive you, I’m sure.”

Sending one final smile his way Elle walks away, leaving Renjun feeling frazzled from the, quite frankly, odd conversation they’ve just shared.

~

“It’s (Y/N)‘s.” Renjun blocks Jeno from sitting on the seat beside him at their lunch table.

“But she hasn’t sat with us this week and, besides, she’s over there with Mark and Chenle.” Jeno complains.

It’s true, Renjun had saved the seat beside him at their lunch table every day for the entire week so far and you hadn’t even acknowledged him once, let alone even thought of sitting at the same table as him. But that doesn’t mean he’s going to give up. No, all he wants is to get you back beside him and in his life.

He doesn’t blame you for wanting nothing to do with him after everything he said. He knows he was completely in the wrong. Yes, he may have only started talking to you again for his plan, but he definitely didn’t feel that way for long. He just wishes he could have an opportunity to talk to you, to get to explain everything.

“Just sit here and shut up.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes as Jeno, who grumbles under his breath about how it’s just a seat, complies with Donghyuck’s orders. “And stop mourning her, she’d not died.”

Renjun scours at Donghyuck, feeling himself become so agitated by his constant flippancy towards the whole ordeal that, need he be reminded, he started!

Renjun is so done with him, he can’t even find the right words to express it. Instead, stands from the table, grabs his things, and walks away.

Over where you are sat, you haven’t lifted your head up from looking at your lunch; none of which looks particularly appetising, but it’s still the best option to suppress the desire you have to look in Renjun’s direction.

“Prom’s next week… you gonna go?” Mark tries his best to think of something to distract you with, but everything seems to remind you of Renjun.

“Not planning on it.” You mumble. You’d hoped to go with Renjun, but now that all feels so stupid. How could you have believed in him so much?

“Oh no,” Chenle laughs. “I’m not letting you sit and wallow in your self pity when you could be having a great time with us at prom.”

Yes, Chenle had been by your side the whole time. Even though he knew about Renjun and Donghyuck’s plan and had bared witness to the horrific moment you found out about it all, he wanted nothing more than to be there for you. So, you didn’t really have a choice when it came to icing Chenle out, he simply wouldn’t allow you to; which, after this week, you’ve been incredibly glad about. Him and Mark have been so amazing.

“I’d rather have the ground open up and swallow me than go…” you fight back a smile when you finally look up and meet Chenle’s unimpressed stare.

“You’re going.” He asserts.

Looking over to Mark, you swallow thickly, because you know that neither of them are letting you get out of this.

Maybe the ground really could open up and swallow you. At least, you’ll be hoping it does…

~

The eve of prom has arrived and you find yourself staring at your reflection in the full length mirror.

This is it… the dreaded night has come…

You’re yet to have spoken to Renjun, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t tried relentlessly to get you to. Between all his messages and attempts to catch you between classes, you feel like you’ve had no chance to get any time alone to think everything over. Yesterday he’d even resorted to getting Jaemin to pass you notes during class. Although, you didn’t respond to any, simply reading his message with an unimpressed frown etched onto your face before scrunching each piece of paper up into a ball in your fist.

You don’t understand why he wants to talk to you so bad when he’s the one who was using you. He never really cared for you, he just wants to clear his conscience.

The front door rings and you rush to answer it, swinging it open to reveal Mark and Chenle looking incredibly handsome. Mark’s suit is a navy and Chenle’s classic black.

“Wow you guys look amazing!” You beam, pulling them both into a quick hug.

“Us? Look at you!” Mark takes your hand. “Stunning.” He muses.

You bashfully roll your eyes, trying to hide how flustered his compliment makes you.

Despite not wanting to go, you really had put effort into your appearance. The floor length dusty blue dress hugging your figure in all the right places. After all, you’re aware eyes will be on you tonight, now that people care for your existence.

“Ready to go?” You take a deep breath and nod at Chenle.

It’s now or never.

~

Renjun stands by the sidelines, hoping to spot you somewhere in the crowd. He knows you’re here tonight, Chenle had mentioned it during practice last week. In fact, every practice, Renjun finds himself asking Chenle how you’re doing. Of course, Chenle has said the same thing every day for the last week. He’s not given too much away, or anything at all, which is unfortunate for Renjun.

He feels pathetic really. Never has he had to chase after someone before, he didn’t even beg Elle to not break up with him when she dumped him. But with you it’s different. He felt happier in the three weeks he’d spent with you than in a year and a half of his last relationship. He didn’t need to hide any parts of himself when you were around, he could just be unapologetically himself. He wasn’t the unapproachable captain of the football team, the (hopefully) future prom king or widely admired person he was to everyone else in the school. With you, he was simply Renjun.

…Until he messed all of it up by trying to convince his teammates you didn’t mean anything to him…

Looking absently around the room, he spots Mark standing by the drinks table and feels some hope begin to bubble in his stomach. Surely it will lead him to you.

“Is (Y/N) here?” Mark is caught off guard by Renjun approaching him, but he’d had his suspicions he’d want to try and talk to you tonight.

“I think she’s somewhere on the dance floor.” Mark shrugs. He feels bad lying, but you’d explicitly told him that if Renjun asked where you were then he’d need to send him in the wrong direction.

“Ok, thanks.” Renjun reluctantly looks back over his shoulder to the crowded dance floor behind him. Sighing, he begins to weave his way through the sea of people. This is gonna take some time.

“You’re getting better at lying.” Chenle casually strolls up next to Mark, sending him a sly smirk. “But, what can I say, I’m a great influence.”

~

With no luck, Renjun eventually left the dance floor and instead found refuge in standing with some of his teammates.

“You look like you need this.” Jisung hands him a drink.

“What’s in there?” Renjun sniffs, scrunching his nose up at the unfamiliar scent.

“Jaemin spiked the punch.” Donghyuck whispers. Ah yeah, he’d almost forgotten about Jaemin’s dare for tonight. Part of his punishment for being the slowest time to run a lap of the field was to carry out the teams choice of dare, which for Jaemin meant he had to break a rule of prom; spiking all drinks with alcohol seemed the least amount of effort.

Knowing this makes Renjun find the drink a little more appealing… he might need it to get through the night, shrugging as he begins to tip the contents of the cup towards his mouth.

Just as he is about to chug the drink, however, the music cuts out and the principle clears her throat.

“It’s time to crown your prom King and Queen.” She announces. “So let’s get down to business.”

“With 80% of the votes, your queen is…” theres an electronic drum roll sound played from the dj set; the audience waiting eagerly for the suspense to end. “Elle!”

Everyone claps and cheers as she makes her way up on stage to claim her crown and say her thank you speech; proceeding to thank so many people that she might as well have just thanked everyone in the school.

“And now, for your prom King.” The principle resumes after finally reclaiming the mic. The synthetic drum roll sounds again. “With 92% of the votes, the biggest win for prom king ever… Renjun!”

Before he can make sense of what’s going on, his teammates have pushed him towards the stage, cheering and chanting ‘King! King! King!’ in his ears.

Standing up on the stage, wearing his crown proudly, Renjun looks at the crowd of cheering students below.

“Thank you to those of you who voted me as your king.” Renjun begins. “And thank you for this.” He chuckles, pointing up to the crown that adorns his head. “I really appreciate you all.”

“But there’s one person in particular who means the most. Someone I care about so deeply, but hurt because I’m the biggest idiot alive.” He takes a breath, scanning the crowd until he finds you. “(Y/N)?…”

You stand frozen, shell-shocked, in the middle of the room, your gaze locked on Renjun’s. There may be hundreds of people surrounding you, but to Renjun, you’re the only one he sees.

“… I know what I did was completely wrong, and all the things I said about you were out of order...” He pleads. “…But, please believe me, none of it was true...”

“…I’ve fallen head over heals for you and I want everyone to know it.”

You can’t believe it. The audacity.

Does Renjun really think that by declaring his so called love for you in front of everyone that he will win you over? After all the hurt, all the public humiliation he caused?

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief before trying to weave your way to the back of the room.

“(Y/N)!” Renjun drops the mic, rushing off the stage to try and get you before you leave.

“What?” The tears stream down your cheeks, turning to face him when his hand grabs your arm. “What do you want from me?”

“I said-”

“I know what you said!”

With the way he looks at you, it’s clear he really believes you should say it back.

It’s silent, everyone watching the two of you and it’s so suffocating. You can’t do this, rushing out of the room as quickly as you can.

You wish you’d never attended this stupid prom. You wish you had never become friends with Renjun again. You wish you were still invisible to everyone. It was so much easier.

“Wait, please!” Renjun chases you outside, stopping you in the middle of the school parking lot.

It’s just the two of you now.

“Tell me how I can fix this.” His voice is mellow, puppy eyes staring into your soul.

“How you can fix this?” You exasperatedly cry. “You seriously don’t think this,” you frantically point back and forth between you. “isn’t beyond repair?”

“You dropped me like I was nothing to you for a shot at popularity and treated me like I didn’t exist for three years.” You begin. “Although, somehow, I didn’t hate you for it. I still cared for you the whole time.” You continue to rant, tears now streaming down your cheeks as Renjun simply stands in front of you, speechless.

“When we started hanging out again, I was stupid enough to actually believe it was because you wanted to be friends, that you really cared.” You bitterly laugh at yourself.

“I do care.” The second he speaks up, you feel yourself soften. You don’t like the control his voice has over you, it’s one of the reasons you’ve avoided talking to him for so long.

“And, yet,” your voice retracts, trying to catch some of your breath back. “Regardless of all the shit you put me though,” you’re completely serious now, all forms of hysteria faded away.

You go to speak your next words but they don’t seem to come out.

“What…” Renjun’s voice is practically mute. He’s pretty much lost all hope by this point, eyes filled with sorrow.

“You still made me love you.”

The silence that settles in the wake of your words is hollow. Neither of you move.

Renjun’s mind replays it repeatedly, almost as though he can’t quite believe what he’s heard. You… love… him… You… love him.

You love him.

He springs to life the second it registers, grabbing you by the waist with one hand and cupping your cheek with the other. He wastes no more time, smashing his lips against yours in a haste of passion and pure adrenaline.

You feel him smile into you when he feels you kiss back, your arms snaking around his neck and fingers threading through the hair at his nape.

“I love you so much.” He pants, pulling away just enough to get the words out.

Renjun refuses to kiss you again until he hears you say it back. Although, he doesn’t actually voice this. Instead, trying to get the message across by staring at you intently and tauntingly keeping your lips apart enough so they are only able to brush against one another.

He wants you to say it. But he needs you to want to say it too.

“I love you.” You smirk as you whisper the words you can tell he’s so desperate to hear.

“Okay, we get it! You love each other!”

You hear the unmistakeable voice echo from the opposite end of the parking lot just as Renjun was about to delve back in and press his lips to yours.

Donghyuck.

He lets out a whine when you pull back, lowering your face to hide your embarrassment at having an audience.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Renjun complains. Although his words lose their threat when he hears you laugh at him, unable to stop the smile that breaks out across his lips at the sound.

“Or… we could go somewhere else for a while?” You raise your brow.

“I could always kill him tomorrow.” Renjun shrugs, interlacing your fingers with his before guiding you in the direction of his car. Away from all the prying eyes to somewhere you can be invisible together.

~ Epilogue: A Month Later ~

“Come on Renjun!” Mark shouts at the top of his lungs from beside you, cheering him on as Renjun sprints as fast as he can across the field, ball clutched tightly in his arms.

It’s been a hectic month since the night of the prom. You’ve completed finals and graduated from high school. But to top all of that, you and Renjun are finally official.

Your eyes are glued to your boyfriend as he skilfully dodges the opposing teams players, chucking the ball to Donghyuck so he’s able to run to an open space while the others are distracted.

It all happens so fast, but before you know it, Renjun’s caught the ball once again and has begun the final sprint.

You scream when he makes the touchdown, the crowd around you going wild.

That was it. Renjun scored the winning goal!

He’s engulfed by his teammates and hoisted on top of Jeno’s shoulders, everyone chanting his name in victory.

You watch your boyfriend proudly from the bleachers, your heart skipping a beat when his eyes scan the crowd and stop when they meet yours. And they don’t move from you until he’s placed safely on the ground again, congratulating his fellow teammates as he weaves through the group of players over to the sidelines.

You rush into his arms the second you have made it to the bottom of the crowded stands, allowing him to sweep you up in his arms and spin you around.

“I’m so proud of you!” You press a tender kiss to his lips once you’ve regained your balance, Renjun’s hold not once faltering from being wrapped around your waist.

This was it, the last game Renjun would play for his high school and as team captain. After tonight there would be no need for him to return to this place.

All the pressure of exams, of acceptance into college, to winning prom King and the final football game of the season was behind him. He’s leaving the legacy he’d always dreamed of and now is his time to focus on his future, you.

You’re heart feels so full. There’s that smile you adore so much, the one that reaches all the way to his eyes; the one that’s filled with pure joy.

Maybe Donghyuck’s plan wasn’t the best idea to have ever existed, but neither you nor Renjun can deny that you’d be where you are now without it.

[thinking-about-writing-mm]

Chapter 12

Title: Those Evil Ways

Pairing: OT7 x Y/N (female reader)

Genre: supernatural au, slow-burn, medical, fluff, angst, smut, war

Word count: ~9 930

Characters: (Demons!BTS) Namjoon/Corson, Jin/Agares, Yoongi/Baal, Hoseok/Alastor, Jimin/Aamon, Jungkook/Mammon, Taehyung/Gaap, human reader (with special abilities later in the story)

Warnings: description of Y/N's phobia - thanatophobia (fear of dying), mentions of visits to a psychiatrist (in a good way, nothing toxic or terrible), lots of angst, mental breakdown, lots of comforting moments/fluff of some sort, triggering, age regression (NOT IN A SEXUAL WAY, just as a means of coping with stress), Jungkook is being sweet and caring, Hoseok makes some progress – if I have missed something please send a pigeon 😅❤️

Summary: Y/N is a third-year medical student going through life like others do. On one unfortunate night she gets in unexpected contact with otherworldly beings who drag her into their world of violence, war and fight for power.

Author’s notes: TAGLIST OPEN.

The new chapter is here and I'm so excited about what's to come! Because of midterm test and other things I had to do I couldn't find the energy and time to finish the chapter for a while now... I know this one might be a bit too gloomy, dark and sad but good things are on the way :3

Please, enjoy! <3

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A few weeks later the situation had gotten even worse. The Kings had decided it was best for them to return to their lands and reflect on what each one did, while Jin and Yoongi stayed behind in the capital in one of the residences so they can continue working on the battle plans with Taehyung.

What happened to Y/N you ask?

That… was a touchy subject for each of the seven men. At first, the three of them who got into a fight initially were ready to rip Hoseok apart but in the end, managed to keep their anger at bay. A new issue had risen and required to be dealt with with caution.

“Wake up, Y/N, please” Yoongi was repeating this sentence over and over again but she remained unconscious in his hands. He felt empty and weak. Looking up he searched for Jin’s eyes and when their gazes met the Master was stunned. He saw so much pain in the face of his closest man.

“Let’s take her to the mansion.” Agares said to Baal but hearing that King Mammon stood up.

With a stern expression, he shook his head. “Not gonna happen. I’m taking Y/N to the North.”

“Really?” Yoongi snapped at him. “After everything you’ve done…”

“What I’ve done? You and Agares are the main reason for this shit and all that Y/N’s been through” the usual calm self of the King disappeared again. Rage was still coursing through his veins, making Jungkook’s blood boil.

“Enough of that” Noir who was quiet until now intervened. All of that was completely pointless and if the feud would continue at this point, in their state of mind it would lead to nowhere. “I’m making the decisions now because apparently, none of you are capable from what I’m seeing.” The disappointment was noticeable in Namjoon’s voice.

He walked over to the table and lifted one of the fallen chairs and sat on it with his legs crossed. “I see now why we were so drawn to her, some more, some less but that doesn’t matter now. The causes for this girl’s presence don’t matter anymore too, it’s a fact - Y/N’s here with us and we all know what kind of being she is.”

Hoseok’s jaw tightened while listening to their Leader. The feeling of betrayal was still so strong and it was clouding the demon’s mind. “What’s the point of those words?” He hissed, leaning with spread arms over the table.

“My point - she’d been thrown into this mess without her consent and knowledge of the whole situation.” While saying this Corson’s eyes moved to Jin and Yoongi who were standing side by side. They visibly retreated into themselves but maintained eye contact with the King. “If Agares had let go of his grudges like I did decades ago and came to talk it out, Y/N might still be alive and well with her friends back in the human world - blissfully oblivious to all this here, without any schemes or intrigues.”

“She’s alive” Jungkook stated flatly but King Noir shot him a warning glare.

“We might be demons and according to the humans that’s the synonym of “evil” but I believe we’re more than that.” Namjoon got quiet looking around the room at the other six men. At that moment Taehyung who was awfully quiet spoke up.

“It’s not my place to rub salt in the wound but this affair has gone too out of hand. I have spent enough time with Y/N to know that she was innocent and pretty much unaware of all of this. At first, I was opposed to being involved but from what I know now there wasn’t even a slight chance of me not getting in the middle of it somehow. Mind you it was my choice in the end so I’m not blaming anyone.” The General somehow felt responsible for the young woman too. “We are intelligent creatures, that’s why each one of us has such a high position in this society.” He got closer to King Alastor and placed a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “The first time a crisis occurred I don’t think we gave our best to avert it and we just let resentment and fury take over which was not right. That’s the main reason why we’re here now at each other's throats. This is not right…” Gaap closed his eyes in frustration. The demon wanted all this to be finally over. “We were what the humans call “friends” and now everything has crumbled to the ground and I’m still hoping there’s some way to fix it.”

“Tch…” Hoseok snorted “friends? Friends don’t choose a-” but at that second Jimin’s open hand shot up in a warning for him to stop. “Whatever.” The King of the East then said, thrown off.

“So I was saying that if we let go of our rage maybe could come together once more. Maybe Y/N is the key to make this possible.”

Agares smiled mockingly in the General’s direction. “You really think we can do that? Don’t make me laugh.”

“I’m not” Gaap replied with a serious face. “A war is approaching, a half-dead girl is laying on the ground and we’re further apart than ever before. This is not a joke or a way to mock any of you…”

“Taehyung is right,” Namjoon said backing him up. “I think it’s best for all of us to return to our regions and reflect. Think about what happened and once you reach a decision on what you want to do next return to the capital, then send a letter to the other six. Once everyone has reached a final decision we will gather here in the palace to discuss what would be the best course of action.” Then the King of the West laced his fingers together waiting for the others to say what they think about his offer. Slowly the demons nodded one by one without a word. “If someone wants to say something, anything, now it’s the time.”

“What about Y/N?” King Mammon asked with a pleading look, hoping for Noir to take the hint. The other man stared at the unconscious girl and then turned to Jungkook.

“Get her to the North. It’s dangerous for her to stay here since apparently someone is after her.”

The moment Baal opened his mouth to express his displeasure with this decision Namjoon shook his head. “It’s final. Doordale is too open. She’s helpless and given the fact that we will be far away, it’s better if Jungkook takes care of her for now. He is the best with making someone disappear and the guards there are top-notch.”

“Thank you Noir” Jungkook flashed him a smile but then felt the air getting thicker. Afraid to cause another misunderstanding he turned to Baal and Agares. “Hey! I didn’t mean to gloat don’t get me wrong. If she wakes up you will be the first to know. It’s not my intention to keep Y/N away from either of you.”

Yoongi visibly relaxed while Jin remained on edge. “You better.” The taller demon seethed through clenched teeth. “If something happens to her your head will roll, mark my words.”

“Come on, let’s get back.” Baal urged the Master to the door.

The other demons began shifting slowly and getting ready to leave. Jungkook approached Y/N who was still out of it, breathing ever so slightly. Her face was pale and the lips - dry. “I will take care of you” the demon whispered and pushed his hands under the young woman’s body, lifting her up with ease. Jimin then stepped in front of him, preventing Mammon from leaving.

“Wanna go some of the way together - to the Big Crossroad?”

The tattooed demon just nodded curtly.

…

The carriages were going together with guards riding at the front and at the back, but the two Kings were together in Mammon’s carriage.

There was still some time until they reached the place where they would go their separate ways. Both men were quiet with Y/N sleeping in Jungkook’s arms. He was mindlessly stroking the girl’s hair.

“I never meant for this to blow so out of proportion,” Aamon said quietly, never taking his eyes off the other two. You could say that he almost regretted his actions…

“Me neither. To be honest, I’ve had so many dreams of the seven of us fixing our problems and coming together as brothers but I’m too engrossed in doing my own things and enjoying celebration after celebration. The Ministers never stopped sending women and gifts… I’m too greedy.” The tattooed demon smiled bitterly. The irony - calling himself greedy.

“We’re bearers of great sins, we are born from that. I’m not going to sit here and wine about the things I’ve done” those words made Jungkook uncomfortable. It sounded like his companion didn’t want to change a thing. “Look, don’t get me wrong, I know I’ve fucked things up just as much as any of us did but you know what they say - there’s no use crying over spilled milk.”

Jimin’s eyes landed on Y/N’s pale face. “We are Kings and must only look forward. I will go back to the South and figure a way how to work things out with Hoseok.”

“What about Agares and Baal?”

“Baal will come around and as for Agares…” he sighed heavily. “He’s bottled too much hate and is still living in the past. It will take time.”

The other demon laughed lightly. It was funny how much faith Jimin had in the rest. Maybe this was not all bad though… Maybe he should do the same?

“What about her?” the silver-haired man asked softly, his demeanor and facial expression changing instantly. His biggest fear was that Y/N would choose someone else but not him which was very likely given what had happened up until this point. The young woman was nothing like them - a Spark and a demon with human behavioral patterns, so peculiar. At times she seemed incredibly confused and lost around the seven men. “It was entertaining how Y/N was struggling with herself when we were coming strong onto her.”

“Most humans are monogamous.” King Mammon stated matter-of-factly, with no emotion.

“I know, I know but her two selves were constantly fighting. Y/N’s strong since she managed to keep those primal instincts at bay.” Jimin was musing mostly to himself.

The taller demon had so many things he wanted to tell the man sitting in front of him but said only one wishful sentence. “I hope she decides to stay and stick with us.”

“Meaning?” Jimin lifted a brow not understanding where this was going.

“The Spark. It’s dangerous for her, while if Y/N chooses her demonic side… can you…” Mammon got excited and his eyes became glossy and shiny. He tightened his arms around the girl, then continued speaking in this overly excited manner. “Can you imagine how strong she would be? You saw the markings - the power of speech, this hasn’t happened in centuries.”

The maniacal look on the black-haired demon’s face worried King Aamon. “Jungkook…” he leaned forward placing a hand on Mammon’s knee. “It’s up to her. You have to ensure Y/N is safe and taken care of for now. When she comes to it will be entirely up to her. Don’t do this because it will push her away and force an unpleasant outcome.”

“My King, we are at the Big Crossroad.” The Coachman informed Jimin while tapping on the roof of the carriage. Aamon nodded and straightened up.

“Very well. I will be out in a minute.” With that, he focused on his companion once more. “Please don’t coerce or pressure her if she wakes up.”

“She will. No “if”s.” Jungkook snapped back.

The other man smiled. “You have my complete trust and I’m glad that Corson entrusted Y/N to you.” 

The King of the North rolled his eyes playfully. “Don’t fuck with me. I know how much you want to be in my place.”

They said their goodbyes and Aamon reached for the door handle but then turned back. A longing look took over his doll-like features. In a swift motion, then he bent over and placed a gentle hand on the girl’s cheek then planted a kiss on her forehead. It felt like the time had stopped. Jimin remained like this for a few seconds basking in the feeling while Jungkook sat completely still. “We will see each other soon princess.”

After that, he left and Mammon continued on his way with the young woman pressed to his chest.

…

“Mom?” Y/N woke up when the door opened.

“Hey, baby.” The woman looked anxious. It was a rare sight to see.

“What’s happening? Why’re you looking at me like this?”

Turning around in the bed the girl saw a bright light coming from the windows. The decoration in the room was from her childhood days with all the stuffed toys and books spread over the floor.

“Y/N, baby, we don’t have much time. Listen to me” her mother sat on the edge of the bed and took the girl’s little hands in hers. “It’s important to stay true to yourself and not lose track of the right path. Important decisions have to be made in due time.”

Flashes of some scary dreams appeared in Y/N’s mind - seven tall figures looming over her tiny body with hands outstretched coming closer and closer. “Mommy I’m scared” she whimpered, pulling on the woman’s shirt.

“I’m right here, don’t be.” The two hugged each other tightly and stayed like that for a few minutes. “Now, do you want to hear a story?”

Y/N nodded, her eyes still filled with tears. “Once upon a time there lived a princess in a kingdom far away from here. Her parents were extremely busy and were always leaving her alone to deal with whatever problem arose. When the princess got older her mom and dad told her that she should help them with ruling the Kingdom but this required her to become a fearless warrior.” Y/N exclaimed in surprise.

“But… mom, aren’t the princesses supposed to be pretty and get married to a nice prince?”

Her mom laughed wholeheartedly and ruffled the girl’s hair. “You know your fairytales very well.” Then she got serious once again. “This princess was not like the others, her life was harder but also very rewarding. One day on the battlefield she saved a wounded man and took good care of him and since the woman was so nice to him he fell in love with her. The princess was afraid to admit she had developed feelings for him too so she left the next night.”

“But that’s sad…” Y/N sniffled.

“It is but then something unthinkable happened. One day while the girl was taking a walk around the city the same man approached her. He had traveled the world to find her and in the end, his efforts were granted with success. Then and there the young woman promised to never leave his side no matter what. It turned out that he was a magical being with great power but the princess’ parents were mad at her for choosing him. That’s why the two ran away and hid from everyone. They had a beautiful baby girl but bad people found out and came looking for them. The parents were left with no choice but to run again. In the end the best choice was to give their child to a nice woman who kindly offered shelter for the baby. The kid grew up to be sweet and caring just like her parents, even though she didn’t have any recollection of them ever existing.”

“But mom why did they leave their child if they loved it so much?”

“Because she was in danger and they would never be able to forgive themselves if something bad would happen to their daughter. In the end, her parents were separated and they never saw each other again.”

Y/N’s lower lip trembled. “That’s a sad story mommy.”

“I know love but this story is my gift for you. Once you grow up you will understand everything.”

…

The days were passing monotonously. Things stayed the same, Jungkook woke up each morning and checked the reports from the previous night. Nothing was happening, as if the Queen was dormant, waiting for something specific to occur. After that, he was spending the day staying in Y/N’s room reading a book to her or drawing her sleeping face over and over again. She was being washed and dressed every day by the two maids who were by her side the first time when she came here.

“I miss your voice so much. Don’t leave me” he whispered. “I’ve heard Monica say you will love me one day and I will wait. I will wait for your loving one day…” He pressed his forehead to the soft mattress and closed his eyes. “Please wake up Y/N.”

Mammon felt pathetic for saying those things over and over again but he couldn’t help it. Guilt was eating away at the demon for all the times he used her for his and the other’s entertainment. Jungkook was fixated on making it right by her once the girl has woken up. Each time he closed his eyes the only thing he saw were Y/N’s sad eyes, the scared look after the markings appeared, King Alastor squeezing her neck, and how she was struggling in the King’s tight grip. All this was unforgivable indeed but she was always so good and the demon hoped that somewhere in her heart Y/N will find absolution and would be ready to accept his apology.

Let me say just this - sometimes some things are too hard or even impossible to forget but the key is to be able to forgive. Sometimes letting go of old grudges and focusing on what’s to come is the best option so you don’t lose yourself in all the anger and sorrow.

Jungkook was ready to climb a mountain if that was needed to prove he meant each word.

…

Almost three weeks went by. Jin and Yoongi were occasionally seeing each other in the mansion and even then they didn’t say much. The two men had buried themselves in old tomes looking for a way to wake Y/N up.

None of them had said a thing about what transpired in the central palace. Agares was still bitter and he felt defeated. Why?

Well, that’s because Jungkook had taken Y/N away after Namjoon gave his final ruling. After the Master had returned home the same day he had let his rage run free until Yoongi came back to the residence.

“Stop this shit.” The emotionless voice made Jin stop and turn around. The room was in disarray, broken chairs and pieces of glass and porcelain were scattered everywhere. “Do you think I’m happy that she’s gone?”

“It’s all because of them four. No! Hoseok! He’s the one to blame-”

Baal’s teeth clicked in frustration. “Don’t do that. Things will continue to go downhill until you cut this shit off. Use your brain Jin!” His voice became louder than before and the Master’s eyes narrowed.

“Mind your tone and words” he warned but the shorter demon didn’t care one bit.

“You can’t intimidate me. She’s gone now and we might never see her again so forgive me if I’m not ready to deal with your childish behavior yet.”

Agares gritted his teeth angrily but instead of deepening the confrontation, he kept quiet.

“We should fix things with King Alastor and also look for a way to bring Y/N back.”

Throwing his head back, Jin began laughing crazily. The loud sound tore the air around the two and echoed for a few seconds after the demon had stopped. “Whoa, you really know how to entertain me.” His face got serious. “There is no way in Hell I would go back to this bastard and talk with him. His selfishness got us here.”

The other man shook his head. “No Jin, all of us. We got ourselves in the middle of that shitstorm and we should find a way out of it.” Turning around to the door Yoongi stopped with his hand on the handle. “Think about it and you will see this is the best course of action. We should find a way back to each other because you remember - long ago we were inseparable.”

Looking at them you might wonder how the two demons haven’t killed each other - they were the exact opposites character-wise and yet - to see or hear a fight or dispute between them was an extremely rare occurrence. The sole reason for this was only one - Yoongi was the quiet and calm part in this friendship and then there was Jin - rowdy and loud with a short temper. You know how it goes - opposites attract.

“What about Y/N then?” Agares asked hurriedly before the other man left.

“I will send a letter to Trophonius. During the time we spent there with her the Oracle took a liking to the girl and once he knows the details of the issue at hand maybe he will be kind enough to come and help us.”

It was amazing how when it came to Y/N most of the seven men were thinking as one and were trying to make her stay in the Scarlet Land as pleasant as possible. If we… could call it that.

…

King Alastor was plagued by unwelcomed memories of the past. It was an absolute hell - each time he closed his eyes the demon was seeing scenes of the previous war, the day the seven demons fell apart, ugly disfigured faces of the enemies he had fought and the one that always made Hoseok wake up covered in sweat - Y/N, pale, struggling in his iron grip, tight around her neck and the next scene was her on the ground - lifeless. Then this was followed by the other six standing at her side looking at the King with resentment for what he had done.

“She’s not dead!” He was shouting in the dream but they didn’t care one bit and just continued to look at him, unmoving and silent.

This went on for a week or so. All the alcohol couldn’t drown the uneasy feeling and bitterness.

Then the second week came. The servants were quiet and extremely careful not to trigger the King in any way. Eternal life could be too much to handle if each day passed like that - buried in heavy, burdensome thoughts and reliving the worst moments. Hoseok began thinking that it was a punishment from some god-like being for going once more against his closest people and for getting consumed by hatred that he thought to be just.

When the third week began things slowly started to settle down and after long hours of thinking back on what had happened Hoseok concluded that he had jumped to conclusions too fast. After all, even Namjoon who was calculating and incredulous decided to grant Y/N the benefit of the doubt.

“I should talk to him…” he muttered while a maid was pouring him coffee.

“Excuse me Your Highness?” she turned to him with an apologetic look. “I didn’t hear You well.”

Alastor slowly lifted his head to look at the succubus. Her eyes widened in horror and she bowed and then immediately began apologizing and begging for forgiveness. He sighed in frustration - none of them had done anything to upset him and yet each sound that reached his ears or if a movement was a bit too wide or uncoordinated the King grew frustrated and angry at the staff. “Leave me be” Alastor waved dismissively at the maid and sent her away.

By the end of the third week, the King of the East had made arrangements to visit Noir in the West. It was easy to talk to him. The other demon was a good listener, always has been and especially if the person before him was close to him somehow. Hoseok hoped that Namjoon would be ready to hear him out after what had happened not so long ago.

The West had a different atmosphere about it even though the region was part of the kingdom of Doordale. All kinds of important people had a residence there - the demons from the ministry, fauns and ghouls who were members of the royal council and so on. The region was like the Orange county of the empire - you could wander all day long looking at the architectural wonders which were their homes. There was only one reason why they were choosing to live here - to be away from prying eyes.

"Greetings my King" the men standing guard by the massive double doors saluted Hoseok when he approached with his entourage. "King Corson is expecting You." They opened the doors to let him in. As per usual the members of the staff bowed to the demon. A butler accompanied by two other guards appeared inviting Alastor to walk with them so they could take him to Namjoon.

The Royal Protocol seemed demanding to someone who was taking a first look at it but in time it was turning out to be quite easy to get accustomed to. The key to it all - perfect coordination with others.

"Welcome!" Namjoon stood up from his chair and handed the book he was reading to one of the servants. "I was surprised when the messenger boy brought me the letter. I presume you want to talk?" There was a whiff of a good-hearted jest in Noir's voice.

"Oh no, I just came for the tea" the other King laughed lightly and they clasped each other's hands tightly as a greeting.

"Good" Namjoon became serious for a second and then smiled widely, his dimples appearing immediately "because I have none."

If he had to be honest King Corson would never say he didn’t expect Alastor to come. The subjects of the kingdom knew Noir to keep away from familiarities and empty pleasantries with the higher-ups, his calculating look that he had on constantly usually managed to intimidate everyone but it was for a reason. Who would look at him and take the demon seriously if he was an airhead who cared only about small talk and pretentious meetings? Exactly - no one. This behavior was what has gotten Namjoon this far, it was the reason why he has established himself as a leader of some sorts.

“Let me be clear - I won’t pressure you into taking a side” Hoseok said while twirling one of the strings dangling from his dress shirt between his fingers. “I just want to tell you how I feel about the whole thing. I’ve been closest to you all those centuries for a reason.”

Namjoon just nodded, suppressing the urge to ask him all sorts of questions.

“I don’t like her or… let’s say I don’t trust her. I don’t know this woman and after what came to light about her identity I didn’t see a reason to even try.” The King knew the legends very well and could recite every story he had heard of the Spark.

“Why?” tilting his head to the side Noir rubbed his chin, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Well, it’s not like I have something against Y/N being a Spark or her being a demon. My problem is the combination - you know our kind very well and what we’re capable of, the atrocities.” The other man blinked once with understanding. “I’m not saying that the nation of the Spark was bad or dangerous but I get it now why they were killed off.”

“Really? Tell me” he really wanted to know why Hoseok had been so off about Y/N, apparently, it wasn’t just a pretense.

The King of the East was usually so accepting of other species and gave the people every chance to prove themselves without any bias. Of course, he had a twisted sense of humor and liked to push others to their limits but this was a different matter. “Imagine what would’ve happened if the Sparks began mating with us or the ghouls or even worse - the therianthropes.” Alastor huffed in frustration, the skin under his eyes wrinkled when he grimaced in disgust. Namjoon smirked, it was amusing how expressive the other King was. “You know how everyone used to say that the worst that could happen to the Scarlet Land was if the Spark turned dark.”

“Mmh. I’ve heard of this… what was it called…?”

“Dim Glow. That’s what my brother and father used to call the phenomenon of them turning rogue and forsaking the Light.”

It was a sad story. The nation of the Spark was never meant to live in a dark and rotten place like the Scarlet Land, but being feared and shunned by everyone they had ended up there, which had led to their inevitable demise. Let’s say that as a whole the supernatural beings were divided as ones of the “Light” and those of “the Darkness”. The primordial rule was to never mix the two in any way, especially if it came down to procreation because the results might turn out disastrous. The power those beings possess was said to be greater than that of a god. “So imagine if this girl turned out like this! She could tear everything around us down if the essence of the two sides mix - Y/N will be-”

“Uncontrollable. Unstoppable…” King Noir finished the sentence and he and Hoseok shared a look. “But that’s what Jungkook and Yoongi were trying to prevent recently. Baal and Agares had figured out things long before we did while Mammon was doing it out of selfish desires but all of them were helping Y/N stick to only one side.”

“I see that now, yes.” The other man’s eyes lowered with guilt. “I regret messing up the things between the four of us.”

One very specific arrogant look of Corson’s appeared and the other demon knew it was there without even seeing it. “You should. Also, keep in mind that what Y/N did was induced by our behavior - because of Aamon, Agares and Mammon throwing her around, because us three with Taehyung  had been suspicious and treating the girl as some lowly tool in order to achieve one’s goal, lower than the cheap whores roaming the streets, also you - becoming aggressive… all of those things led to this outcome.”

“I have to find a way to fix “us” if that’s even possible.”

Hoseok leaned back in his chair and covered his face with a hand. He has never been rash or that impulsive, maybe the pressure recently had reached a new high or maybe he was losing his touch…

…

I guess you all know the story of Sleeping Beauty. Y/N was now in a similar situation but the difference was that she was fighting to stay afloat and alive in her mind.

All the nightmares and terrors that were appearing in her head prevented her from waking up. I can’t even count how many times she saw her mother who was trying to influence the girl to give up and go with her. Where? Oh, I don't know exactly… so many times Y/N thought of following her but then decided against it saying "I have to wait for someone, I don't know who but they are coming to get me." Then the Kings and the other demons would appear taunting her or whispering sweet nothings, coercing Y/N to give her body to the pleasure they were offering. Another time scary creatures chased her around a dark forest and in the end she always ended up falling from a cliff.

“Hey baby” Y/N’s mother entered the room again. She had her hair tied in a tight bun which meant that the woman had just returned from the office. “Wanna talk?” Something felt off this time.

The young woman nodded and left the thick textbook on the bed. “Sure mom. What do you wanna talk about?” Back in the days it was not an unusual thing for them to share a moment like this, just the two, discussing something important but now Y/N felt weird and out of place. She couldn’t think of a topic or a problem that needed their attention at the moment.

The mother looked down at the textbook - “Internal medicine”. After a long pause she sighed as if the whole world was weighing down on her shoulders. “Why did you decide to study this? It’s so hard for you mentally and physically - you barely sleep these days or eat properly.”

“Mom…” Y/N rubbed her temples trying not to get agitated. This conversation has always been the worst, since the first day the girl announced she had planned on enrolling in the medical university. Mrs. Y/L/N had tried her best to dissuade her daughter from doing this but to no avail. “You know very well why. Moreover, it’s my last year. I enjoy every part of this - the help I can provide, giving hope to people, the efforts to lessen the struggles of others - it’s all incredibly rewarding.”

Her mother shook her head in disappointment and looked Y/N dead in the eye. The color of their pupils was exactly the same, and the face shapes too. A random thought crossed the girl’s mind unexpectedly “How could she not be my mom?” But why did she think of that? “Am I forgetting something…?”

“Don’t be a child. This crippling fear that’s been plaguing your mind since you were five? That has nothing to do with choosing this profession?” Her voice became unrecognizable, laced with menace. It also had this unpleasant sound as if the woman’s mouth was filled with unswallowed saliva.

“You know I don’t talk about that. Not anymore,” Y/N said through clenched teeth.

“That? This-“

“No mom. Stop it.” Panic began rising in her chest.

Mrs. Y/L/N had this sad expression on her face now. “The fear of death is common in many people, baby.”

Shaking her head Y/N tried to get rid of these thoughts just like before but it didn’t work now. Anxiety and desperation got her in a tight chokehold and she began breathing heavily.

“Seeing and reading about all the possible causes for someone’s death is tiring. Do you see the darkness sometimes? Do you think about it?” The girl was now shaking uncontrollably, sobbing and whimpering. She hadn’t had a panic attack in so long. “You want to become a medical geneticist or no… what was it? Genetic engineer so you can find the key to eternal life right?” Her mother took Y/N’s hands in hers and continued speaking. “You know if you let me take you away I will show you only light and there won’t be a need to ever think of that again.”

Holding on for dear life her daughter tried speaking. “M-m-mom… I’m… I-I…”

“Shhh… don’t be scared.”

“Master!” Monica ran inside the office screaming her lungs out. “Please! Come quick!”

Jungkook knew that this behavior meant only two things - either Y/N has woken up or was dying. Jumping to his feet the demon ran through the hallways.

When he entered the girl’s room he saw her in a terrible state - her body shaking from tremors with different intensity, sweat covering her face and neck, tears streaming down. The most unbearable thing was the quiet wailing reaching the King’s ears. “What’s wrong with her?!” He roared while crossing the room to sit on the bed next to Y/N.

“I-I…” the maid stuttered. “I was sitting on the chair watching her Ladyship and then it just happened out of nowhere.”

Jungkook hasn’t done this in so long but now was the perfect time for it. Closing his eyes the man emptied his mind completely. He pictured Yoongi’s face and a thin red loose string appeared, connecting the two demons. That was the telepathic bond the seven of them were sharing. “Yoongi are you listening?” Mammon said. A few seconds passed and then he continued, his voice turning frantic. “Y/N’s not well. Something is happening and I need you to come. Use the Wishing well and…”

The maid stayed on the side, crying. She liked the young woman so much and was so grateful for all the good things Y/N had said to her and for the nice attitude. The first time she felt like a human being was when the girl came to the palace and treated Monica as a friend and not as some lowlife. “Please save her, Your Highness…” the maid sobbed quietly.

A few minutes went by and the wooden door flew open. Baal came in tow with the man from Christopher’s memories - the Leader of the Oracles. The white-haired man didn’t say a word, just approached and bent down to touch Y/N’s forehead with his. Her body continued spasming in uneven intervals.

After a while the Oracle straightened up and looked at Jungkook with a grim expression. “She’s dying.”

“NO!” Both Mammon and Baal shouted simultaneously. The King’s black hair was in disarray, his cold eyes were filled with sadness and fear now and his hands were trembling from the adrenaline rush.

“Save her!” Yoongi got closer to them. He was obliged to find a way to keep Y/N alive at all costs, there was so much more to tell her and do together. The demon had plans to return with the girl to her world and clean up his wrongdoings but this…

The white-haired man nodded with a reserved expression. “Keep in mind that this might not work but since we don’t have another option…”

“Say it.” Jungkook ordered harshly, his eyes burning with determination.

“The thing is that whatever is killing Y/N is in her mind. Probably her own thoughts and since she’s been in this state for a while exhaustion is taking a toll on her. I need to channel some of your life essence into her.”

“Done” Jungkook and Yoongi both stepped forward as one but the Oracle shook his head.

“Only one thing is stopping me from doing this.”

Baal’s jaw tightened. “Those two sides of her.”

“Exactly. She might become a demon…”

“I don’t care! Do you want Y/N to…” The King was unable to say it. This was the first time in his centuries-long life he felt so desperate and lost. The woman was so precious to him and just thinking about losing her caused the demon immense pain - both physical and mental. He… loved Y/N and would give his own life to save hers. “Do it!” Jungkook grabbed the Oracle by the shoulders with gloved hands.

The other man blinked once, agreeing silently. “I will sit here and make sure to establish a bond with her. You must place a hand on my forehead and let down all the defenses so I can channel your essence into her.” The man then turned to Yoongi with a stern expression. “Keep a close watch on him. He mustn’t break physical contact with me.” Baal just stared unblinkingly.

“Come on baby, let me help you” her mother went on and on.

When Y/N was younger and an episode like this happened it was common after that for the girl to regress for different periods of time. That’s why her mom was always staying by Y/N’s side helping her recover. Why regressing? The girl’s mind was always so exhausted due to the stress caused by those intrusive thoughts. During and after an event of that sorts the regression became a coping mechanism so the brain could recover. In the past, the panic attacks used to happen almost every other day and the psychiatrist that Y/N was seeing at that time, had explained that it was a way to deal with the stress - reverting back to the stress-free, burdenless life of an infant or a child.

Y/N continued seeing the doctor for years up until her fifteenth birthday. Then looking at the cake the girl decided that the best decision was to become a doctor. The psychiatrist had advised her to find a way to deal permanently with the fear without the help of pills and other drugs. At some point the mentioning of the medical profession put Y/N on the way to healing.

“You’re strong enough to deal with this. Of course this is not a panacea, there might be times when you will get triggered by something, given the fact that being a doctor means seeing death a lot. You should have a grounding object or something of the sorts. You can always count on me and come for sessions. We’ve ruled out all of the underlying mental disorders so there’s nothing to worry about. This is just a coping mechanism for worries about the impact of aging.”

Once the girl started preparing for the entrance exams things began changing slowly. The panic attacks got rarer and rarer and those intrusive thoughts bothered her less and less with time. It all came from the fact that Y/N was working in the direction to find a way to be alive forever. A childish goal in the other’s eyes but the strongest driving force for her to stay afloat.

And now…

This uncooperative mind of hers was trying to “persuade” the young woman to let go and thus the attack happened.

At some point during the whole ordeal Yoongi began doubting if this was working at all - Y/N was still convulsing and whimpering. Jungkook on the other hand looked horrible - he was pale, breathing heavily and gritting his teeth.

“She’s so strong, there’re so many walls, metaphorically speaking, in her mind. I can’t break them down.” Trophonius murmured with his eyes closed.

“Just… figure it out” Yoongi hissed angrily. “I can feel her becoming weaker.”

The minutes were passing and nothing was happening…

At some point the King felt weak in the knees but did his best to resist the fatigue. Baal saw that and cautiously made a step towards him.

“I’m fine” Mammon spat out, still looking intently at Y/N’s face. “I don’t need your help!” So stubborn and unwilling to accept assistance from anyone.

More time went by but at one certain moment something felt like breaking. The air in the room turned static and Trophonius opened his eyes suddenly. “That’s it! Keep going!” Those words were aimed at Jungkook.

In the chests of both demons their hearts skipped a beat. Yoongi expected to see Mammon transforming but apparently the low energy level had the last say now. It was a well-known fact that in the process of shifting a lot of energy was required and now Jungkook had exhausted most of it.

“Y/N, look at me” her mom tried getting the girl’s attention but it was no use.

Y/N was crying unstoppably, the screams now resembled those of physical pain. She felt so helpless and bare. There’s no way she could die. Her mom would never be so mean to trigger her on purpose and then not even try to help her get over the episode.

“I-It… hurt-t-ts” the young woman cried pathetically. “I can-n’t” a new agonizing moan ripped through the air.

There was a knock at the door and both women cast their eyes in the direction of the sound.

“Yoongi hold him” Trophonius groaned in displeasure. “If he lets go all would have been for nothing.”

Without a second thought the other demon appeared behind the King and pressed himself to the other’s back. At that moment a nice thought dawned on him - Baal reached forward and placed his hand over Jungkook’s and the other around his chest for support.

“Whoa! I didn’t expect your spirit to be so strong” the Oracle exclaimed. It was a good decision to use the two of them but the downside would have been that both of their energy supply could run out just as fast so Trophonius needed a backup. “You are the sin of Sloth and yet this is… incredible!”

Then the white-haired man felt it - the last “wall” falling down.

Jungkook saw it first - the door in the darkness. Screams were coming from behind it and this bothered the demon to another extent. He began walking towards it but then Yoongi materialized too.

“What’s that?” Baal asked confused.

“Must be Y/N’s mind space. Let’s go, I don’t like this.”

The two approached the door and Jungkook knocked twice. It was best not to scare Y/N even more considering the state she was in back in the real world. After a second he opened the door and what they saw stunned them. This disgusting deformed apparition sat next to their pretty girl with tentacle-like appendages wrapped around different parts of Y/N’s body.

From her perspective, though this seemed different - it was still her mother and everything was completely normal.

Of course, the two demons looked exactly like themselves but the young woman couldn’t remember who they were. Looking at the men she began crying again. “I-I don’ wan-n-nt to…”

Baal crossed the room and grabbed the ghost-like creature. It screeched and another outgrowth shot out from its body wrapping around the demon’s neck. The King ran forward while the other two were struggling and grabbed Y/N who was still under the apparition’s influence. The tentacles were wrapped so tightly around her that even Jungkook with his strength couldn’t get the girl out. “Rip its head off!” the tattooed demon roared.

Yoongi didn’t answer back. He was still struggling with overpowering the creature. Seeing no other way around it Mammon began transforming partially and he dug his sharpened teeth into the black matter keeping Y/N under. No blood came out, nor did any tissue got ripped - of course this was a thought. Y/N’s thought that they couldn’t kill.

“Talk to her!” Yoongi urged Jungkook to try a different approach.

The King then knelt near the bed and grabbed the girl’s hand. “Hey princess. It’s me, do you remember me?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in horror, she knew this face from another nightmare of hers. He was bad and mean, this man was not good and the girl wasn’t supposed to go with him anywhere. She shook her head frantically. “Pl-please d-d-don’t hur’ me!”

Those words stung badly. The demon winced and balled his fists. “What has this thing done to you?” Jungkook didn’t know what to say. He was lost.

Yoongi was still trying to fight the apparition but nothing physical could make it budge. Everytime he tried punching, squeezing or kicking it felt like sand was on the other side of his fist. That’s why the only way seemed to be a battle of their minds but he couldn’t do it. It was just an idea of sorts and it didn’t have any brain to produce thoughts of its’ own.

“She has to deal with it” Baal said in the end. “We can’t do shit.” Once he stopped struggling the vision stopped fighting him too. It then turned his attention back to Y/N.

“Who are those people?!” Y/N’s mother was shouting in her face. “Tell them to go and leave us alone!”

The girl just shook her head.

“Hey, princess listen to me.” Jungkook began once again. “It’s me one of the Kings. Remember how you were feeding the birds in the pond in my garden?”

“N-no” Y/N stuttered and got her hands away from the demon’s, pressing them to her chest. “No!”

“Come on” the tattooed man smiled pleasantly and his lip ring glistened in the daylight. “The talk we had in the bathroom, the confessions?” From what Mammon knew the way to bring someone back was to remind them of some good moment but… He felt so guilty. There were almost no pleasant memories to speak of - he cause Y/N so much pain he had to atone for. If he was able to cry this was the moment he would do it. Taking a deep breath he placed his hand on the girl’s knee. Her eyes widened and she began trashing around.

“Don’t t-touch m-m-!” 

“Hey, hey. Okay I won’t touch you” the demon lifted his hands up in the air. Then Yoongi approached from behind keeping an eye on the creature who was murmuring something inaudible.

“We don’t have much time Jungkook” the shorter demon warned. “Something’s changing.”

So many sounds were overlapping in Y/N’s mind. Her mother was screaming on one side and then there were the two men saying some weird things that made her even more confused. It was impossible to think straight.

“Do you remember how sad you were-”

“That’s not how you do it” Baal cut the other man off. He feared that everything would go from bad to worse.

“Let me be. Y/N you were very sad and lonely that I left you for days during the feast. But do you also recall how glum I was when you decided to leave? That’s because I regretted my decisions then and now even more.” A tremor ripped through Y/N’s body.

“Mommy…” she wept weakly.

“She sees her mother.” Yoongi muttered more to himself. This was proving so much…

“I’m so sorry princess, I’m so sorry. I will never leave you again” those words sounded so genuine that they surprised even Baal. The mint-haired demon felt a pang of jealousy. Why couldn’t he be the one to do this? “Monica is taking care of you for so many days now. She loves you so much, the girl’s saying you’re her closest friend. I adore you for this kind heart of yours, Yoongi here feels the same way.” The King reached up to touch the young woman’s face but one of the tentacles of the apparition wrapped around his hand, stopping the demon. “Let me take you away and help you. I will make sure to eliminate every threat and danger around you, princess.”

“Liar” she sniffled.

“I can prove to you that I’m not. Don’t you want to see the people that long for you?” Y/N shivered and scooted over closer to the creature. Jungkook’s doe eyes got wider with fear.

“Y-you are n-no real…”

“But I am. Want me to prove you wrong? Think back and remember the time when I held you close. There’s something I asked you in the beginning. Do you remember what was it?”

“I don’t want to go” Y/N whispered, not listening to the King. He was becoming desperate.

“Do you remember what I asked you, princess?” he tried once again. “Let me ask one last question - demon shift or human?”

Then the girl got quiet. Everything stood still, the apparition stopped moving, the tentacles froze for a second and their matter stopped shifting too. “D-demon sh-shif’ or h-?”

“Yes.”

“Demon or human…” Y/N was talking to herself, her eyes glued to Mammon’s face. There was something strangely adorable about her disheveled look and those wide curious eyes, looking for an answer. Chewing on her bottom lip now the girl looked at the nightstand. There she saw her first stethoscope. Reaching for it with a trembling hand the creature didn’t try to stop her this time.

Yoongi followed her movement with interest - she wanted to take it. Getting on the other side of Jungkook he took it and handed it to Y/N. When she touched the stethoscope the young woman closed her eyes and her facial features softened. She ran her fingers over the cold shiny metallic parts, trying to steady the ragged breathing. “Demon or human…” Y/N said once more.

“Mmh.” Jungkook hummed. The two men stood in their respective spots, waiting for what was to come next.

“I-it’s you. Kookie…”

At this moment Yoongi visibly relaxed and sighed. The King smiled brightly and the skin around his eyes scrunched cutely. “It’s me and Yoongi. He was as annoying as ever but… helped me so much. Come on.” The demon took Y/N’s hands and kissed them.

“But…” she hesitated for a moment looking at the deformed creature, still seeing her mother with a disappointed angry look on her face. “What about my mom?”

“Thoughts can’t hurt you Y/N” the mint-haired demon tilted his head towards the apparition. “She’s been gone for a while now. You’re safe with us.”

Jungkook then carefully lifted the woman up and walked out the door with the other man following close behind.

“Your Excellency! Excuse my intrusion but the soldiers on the southern border were attacked” one of the first Lieutenants barged into the Solar room of Taehyung’s mansion. The General was snoozing on the soft daybed with a couple of books laying open on the small table next to him.

“So it’s begun.” Gaap rose up quickly and headed for the door. “It’s time to do what I do best.” Taehyung’s eyes flashed dangerously with his sharp mind already in full motion, running laps.

The supreme moment of Y/N returning after weeks of being unconscious brought joy and relief to everyone. The Oracle congratulated the two demons for their hard work which was a miracle by itself. “I will be staying at Agares’ residence so if you need me just tell the King and I will be here.” Those were the last words he said to Y/N before leaving.

Immediately after coming back to the real world, the three men noticed the state she was in - frail and on the verge of another breakdown. All those horrible nightmares and terrors that her mind put the girl through had drained her immensely. Here, now in the waking world, she was still in regression, which was concerning for everyone.

It was heartbreaking to see this strong woman in this state - eyes filled with fear and sadness, with knees bent close to her chest, chewing on her nails and lips. Y/N’s speech was disrupted, sometimes not understandable at all.

“I trust you will take good care of her” there was nothing more important to Yoongi now. He didn’t want to leave but the demon also didn’t want to overstay his welcome. 

“There’s no way I would leave her side.”

…

Soon news about the attack spread all around the empire. The idea of the Kings gathering to sort everything out at the set time and date didn’t become reality.

At that precise moment when the messenger arrived to tell Jungkook the bad news, he was laying in bed with Y/N who was sleeping in his lap. King Mammon had his head pressed to the headboard, eyes half-closed, playing with the girl’s hair and softly scratching and massaging the skin of the scalp just like she had asked him to do.

For the past three days, the demon was working on helping his precious girl recover just like the Oracle had advised him to do.

Only Monica was allowed to enter Y/N’s room and when it was time for a bath Jungkook was leaving in order to respect her privacy. On the first day, the young woman cried like a child when the demon left her side. “I will be back in a while, princess,” he said to her, kissing the back of Y/N’s hand.

Now when the maid entered Mammon noticed the antsy behavior immediately. “What is it?” he asked in a hushed voice.

“My King, there’s a messenger here. Should I send him in?”

The pretty features of Jungkook’s face got distorted. He frowned but tried to contain the bubbling irritation. “Why is he here?”

“I don’t know, he wouldn’t say.”

“Bull… send him in. I can’t come to the main hall now.”

Monica bowed deeply. “I understand.”

When the ghoul entered he stood straight and spoke in a loud exalted tone. “Greetings Your Majesty, King Mammon of the North!” At that point, if Jungkook was a character in some anime he would get this so-called “anger mark” on the side of his forehead. That asshat was so loud and annoying and he would wake Y/N up. Instinctively the King squeezed the girl harder as if trying to protect her from the sounds.

“Speak quietly, you twit. What is it?”

“King Corson of the West sent me to…” the messenger continued speaking the same way and Y/N began shuffling in the King’s arms. “Inform you that there was an attack on the southern border and many soldiers lost their lives fighting.”

Opening her eyes the young woman got startled by the unfamiliar voice. Looking up and squeezing Jungkook’s black cotton shirt alerted the demon. She then hid her face in the crook of his neck, trying to get even closer than before, if that was even possible… “So what? What did he send you here for?”

“King Corson instructed me to tell You that he had spared you for a few days, considering the situation You are in but now it’s time to come to the capital and perform your duties as King of the North.”

It was unfortunate but Jungkook couldn’t sit idly while the others were fighting to protect the Empire. “I will be there in a while.” Mammon said finally and motioned for the ghoul to go away. When that happened the demon ran his fingers through Y/N’s hair and began speaking quietly in the girl’s ear “Princess, I have to leave for a while. Monica will be here with you all the time, all my guards-”

He couldn’t finish his sentence because once she understood where this was going to happen the girl began crying immediately. “No, no! No please… d-don’t leav-ve me” stuttering, Y/N was clutching his shirt in tiny fists.

“I will be back in a few days baby girl” the demon tried reassuring her but it was absolutely useless - the sobbing didn’t stop. “Please, Y/N…” Mammon’s heart was breaking at the sight but he also knew that his brothers needed him.

“Don’t… please don’t leave me! I will die and you will forget about me!” It seemed that what occurred seconds ago now reverted all the progress they had made back to square one. There was no point explaining that if he went to see the others at the capital her safety will be more than ensured.

“Let’s make a deal - I will give you my pretty wristwatch and I promise you that I will be gone for no more than four hours. If I’m late, no matter the reason, I will bring you a bouquet made of golden flowers. Does that work for you?”

A pout appeared on Y/N’s lips and she got quiet. After a long staring contest she extended an arm out waiting for the watch. Smiling at her the King took the accessory off his wrist and placed it in the girl’s hands. Then he bent over to kiss her forehead and left without another word.

Chapter 11 / Chapter 13

Masterlist

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@princess-sunshyn @thedarkwinterrose

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Meeting the Family // Anthony Bridgerton

Request: Hello there, could I please request Anthony bridgerton and reader fic where hes introducing the reader to his family for the first time and shes really nervous but the family ends up loving her more than him? Thanks, I absolutely love your work!! Please dont overwork yourself darling❤ - @lespaceboi

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! I had so much fun with this request, I love it so so much. I only hope you do too! Lowkey posting this early bc I’m watching the euros final tonight and I won’t have time. 

Warnings: she/her pronouns, female reader, light angst, some worries, lots of fluff, family fluff, Anthony being cute, dialogue heavy, declarations of love.

Word count: 3.6k

Her hands shake uncontrollably as the carriage clatters through London. Taking calming breaths, (Y/N) does her best to stop her shaking hands by gripping her shawl tightly. Her maid, Jayne, looks over at her in concern. “We can always turn back, my lady,” Jayne whispers, “I’m sure Viscount Bridgerton won’t mind postponing to another day.”

(Y/N) smiles warmly at her maid; grateful for the care in her voice. However, she shakes her head. “I’m afraid it can’t wait any longer, Jayne. Anthony’s sister and her husband have travelled all the way from Scotland.”

Jayne sits back against the carriage bench, nodding her head understandingly. “I’m sure it’s going to be fine,” She offers in comfort.

“I can only hope,” (Y/N) whispers, casting her gaze out of window and into the London streets.

She had met Anthony Bridgerton when shopping for ribbons. An unusual time and place to meet anyone, but Anthony had strolled into the shop and asked to see the best ribbons in the place as nothing would be better than the absolute best for his nieces. (Y/N) had giggled at the tone of his voice; unused to seeing such a powerful figure in such intimate settings. Her laughter had drawn his attention to which a conversation began. By the end of the Viscount’s visit to the ribbon shop, he had asked to see her again.

The visits continued in secrecy, or in as much secrecy as one could afford when holding a peerage. The relationship blossomed; what was once considered a friendship was turning romantic, and (Y/N) could not help her feelings for the Viscount. He had captured her, body and soul. She counted every blessing that Anthony felt the same.

The first glimpse of Bridgerton House steals her breath away. The red brick stands out amongst the paler buildings; Anthony’s wealth already obvious but further personified by the sheer scale of his home. The sweet scent of the violet hyacinths perfume (Y/N)’s carriage; their aroma bringing a small smile to her face as she remembers a masquerade party in Chiswick, a balcony and Anthony’s hands on her waist.

Her carriage rolls to a natural stop; (Y/N)’s heart in her throat as she tears her inquiring gaze from Bridgerton House to Jayne. Jayne smiles and squeezes her lady’s hand, a silent offer of support for the afternoon.

“They’re going to love you,” Jayne whispers, bolstering (Y/N) as best she could as the door to the carriage is opened by (Y/N)’s footman.

Now closer, Bridgerton House is much grander. The deep green iron gates pronounce the family’s wealth further. (Y/N) gulps as she takes step after step down the path to already open front door. Her steps falter slightly as she catches sight of Anthony waiting in the entrance; his hair the usual untameable mess that endears her so.

“You came,” Anthony breathes in greeting; his eyes wide with barely concealed surprise as he takes in the sight of her on his doorstep.

“I came,” (Y/N) answers just as breathlessly. Even the sight of him was enough to leave her gasping for breath; there were moments in their prolonged courtship that she couldn’t quite believe he had chosen her, that he wanted her. As Anthony stands there, his white shirt unbuttoned from the collar with his waistcoat undone, she realises that this is the most casual she had ever seen him. His outfit wasn’t proper, but she doesn’t want it to be. She wants to see him from every angle; she wants to know every Anthony there is. So far, she had found herself besotted with each and every one.

Both remain silent as Anthony offers his arm to her. (Y/N) uses the silence to quash the nerves rioting in her gut; she had never been this nervous, not when she was presented in front of the monarch for her season, and not when she danced with the Prince of Wales at his birthday celebrations two years ago. Now, however, her nerves were beginning to get the better of her.

Anthony pauses their journey. “Are you okay?” He asks, a note of concern in his voice.

“I’m nervous,” (Y/N) confesses bashfully, “What if they don’t like me? What if they hate me so much that you end things? I’m having so much fun with you, Anthony. I don’t want this to end.”

“Hey,” Anthony whispers, taking her face in his hands, urging her to look at him, “You’re going to be fine. They’re going to love you, I know it. I’ve spoken about you so much they feel they already know you.”

“You talk about me?” (Y/N) asks, her voice small.

Anthony presses a kiss to her forehead. “Constantly. I’m surprised they haven’t kicked me out with how much I talk about you.”

“You’re really very sweet.”

“Only because of you,” He flirts, pushing his luck by kissing her quickly.

(Y/N) laughs softly against his mouth. “You’re incorrigible.”

Anthony laughs gently, pulling away from her lips but keeping hold of her hands. “I’m as nervous as you,” He confesses, “But I have you by my side to help me get through just as you have me through this too. Any time you want to go, let me know and I’ll call your carriage back round.”

“Thank you,” She whispers before Anthony continues on down the hall, his hand squeezing hers tightly.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” Anthony asks, double checking, voice wavering as they stand outside the door to the drawing room. “My family can be a bit much to meet all at once.”

“We’re nothing of the sort!” A masculine voice shouts from behind the door.

A surprised laugh leaves (Y/N) lips. She covers her mouth to bring back the mask of perfect decorum, not wanting to insult a member of Anthony’s family. “I’m ready when you are,” She whispers, smiling at the eldest Bridgerton.

“Sooner rather than later,” Anthony whispers before opening the door, giving her the first glimpse at his family.

The Bridgerton brood sit around the large drawing room. Sisters and brothers, husbands and wives – they all mix together as they wait for Anthony and his new beau. Each all fall silent as Anthony and (Y/N) enters the room; their first glimpse of her, their first conversation with her. Anthony had spoken about her constantly but refused to let any family meet her until they were both ready.

Now that moment had arrived.

“Mother,” Anthony introduces to the silent room, “This is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” (Y/N) exclaims, smiling at the Bridgerton matriarch. “I’ve heard so much about you all,” She continues, casting her gaze around the room.

“It’s a pleasure for us too, dear (Y/N),” Violet announces, “Anthony has been nothing but a ball of nerves since he announced you would be joining us.”

(Y/N) nods at the matriarch, feeling herself become speechless as she takes in the sheer size of Anthony’s family. It isn’t hard to tell who the Bridgertons are among the group are; they each have the same eyes and smile. “It’s lovely to meet you all,” (Y/N) announces, repeating her earlier words, unable to keep the nerves from entering her voice this time.

“I’m Benedict,” The second eldest introduces, jumping up from his seat on the couch, holding his hand out for her to take.

“The artist!” (Y/N) gasps, “I’ve seen some of your work. You’re exceptionally talented.”

“Thank you,” Benedict blushes, excusing himself with a pat to Anthony’s shoulder, a silent sign that Benedict already approves.

“Help yourself to some tea,” A younger woman exclaims in the brief silence between conversations, “I’d get up to greet you, but it would take twice as long as the conversation itself.”

“Please don’t strain yourself,” (Y/N) offers graciously, “Congratulations on your pregnancy.”

“Thank you, dear. I’m Daphne, and this is my husband, Simon.” Daphne introduces, her hand landing on the thigh of a handsome man.

“It’s lovely to meet you both,” (Y/N) greets, making her way to an empty seat at a nearby table. There she pours two cups of tea, one for her and one for Anthony, knowing he would be dropping by in a minute or two. The tea steeps as (Y/N) helps herself to one of the many biscuits, taking a small bite of the buttery concoction before reaching for the milk and sugar. This is a routine she has practiced many times before, knowing exactly how long to stir her tea so it wouldn’t burn the tip of her tongue with every sip.

It’s takes less than two minutes for someone to join her at the table. (Y/N) offers the young woman a polite smile, “I’m (Y/N).”

“Eloise Bridgerton,” introduces the young woman.

“A pleasure to meet you,” (Y/N) repeats, feeling herself already grow tired of the words.

“Are you educated, (Y/N)?” Eloise enquires; her keen blue gaze dancing over the young woman.

(Y/N) finishes her sip of tea before nodding at Anthony’s younger sister. “I am,” She answers, “I studied under a very thorough governess, and I am fluent in French and Latin, but I’ve also been fortunate enough to sit in on some lectures at Oxford and Edinburgh.”

“How?” Eloise all but demands, ignoring the stern stare of her mother as she leans forward, elbows on the table. “You must teach me your ways.”

(Y/N) represses an amused smile at Eloise’s antics. “My favourite cousin, Sylvester, was a student at both. I often annoyed him into letting me attend in secret whenever I visited.”

“Did you attend any interesting lectures?”

(Y/N) nods, happy to further indulge the brunette. “Sylvester was a student of medicine, beginning his education at Oxford before continuing on to Edinburgh where he lives now. I’ve attended a few medical lectures, but I pressured him into letting me attend a philosophical debate surrounding Wollstonecraft’s Vindication of the Rights of Woman.” (Y/N) shakes her head, amused at the memory, “Sylvester didn’t find that one nearly as thrilling as his medical lectures.”

“Anthony!” Eloise calls, gathering the attention of all her brothers, “I’m keeping (Y/N) for myself. You’re going to have to find a new beau, I’m afraid.”

Anthony chuckles, leaving his brothers to their own conversation. “Pray,” He begins, “Just what are the two of you talking about.”

“(Y/N)’s education. Did you know she’s sat in lectures at both Oxford and Edinburgh? I daresay I might attend a few myself.”

Anthony’s hand lands on your shoulder; a warm squeeze has you turning to meet his stare. His smile is fond; his eyes are bright with happiness. “Are you inciting further rebellion in my little sister?”

“Of course not,” (Y/N) playfully scoffs, “Just letting her know that should she want to attend any lectures, I have a connection for her.”

A laugh leaves Anthony’s lips as he catches sight of Eloise’s excited wiggle in her chair. “I’m glad you’re getting along,” He murmurs to (Y/N) quietly, dropping an unexpected kiss to her hair before entering a debate with Eloise, explaining why she cannot go about interrupting lectures at prestigious universities.

Leaving the siblings to their bickering, (Y/N) stands from table, wanting to stretch her legs and discover more to the drawing room. By this point in the afternoon, the appeal of company has worn off. The large family now broken off into their own conversations; Francesca and Michael remain sat close together on the couch under the window, Lady Violet remains sat by her eldest daughter – the matriarch keeping a weather eye on her pregnant daughter.

(Y/N) smiles fondly at the scene before turning to one of the many fixed bookshelves in the room; leather bound volumes line the shelves. There wasn’t much for light reading, she thinks to herself as she reads the spines. Much about the War of the Roses and the subsequent Tudor reign, not much in the way of Miss Butterworth and the Mad Baron.

“You’re very pretty,” A young girl announces from behind (Y/N). She turns to find two girls, both no older than four or five, their hair matching pigtails, curled into ringlets.

(Y/N) kneels to their height, ignoring the pinching of her corset as she smiles at the young children. “Why thank you,” She states gratefully, “But you know what I would really like?”

“What?” The eldest of the two asks, leaning forward in anticipation.

“Gorgeous pigtails like yours,” (Y/N) smiles, gesturing to their hair.

Both girls break into wide smiles, already won over. “What are your names?” (Y/N) asks.

“I’m Amelia,” The eldest states proudly, “I’m five and a half.”

“I’m Belinda,” The second girl introduces, “I’m four.”

“Well it is lovely to meet you both,” (Y/N) compliments, “My name is (Y/N).”

“We know,” Belinda chimes. “Uncle Tony talks about you all the time.”

“He does, does he?” She murmurs amused; catching sight of the brunette doing his best not to intervene on the conversation taking place with his nieces.

Amelia nods. “All the time!” She cries happily. “He talks about your hair, your eyes, your smile.” She breaks off, leaning towards (Y/N) to whisper in her ear. “I think he’s in love with you.”

“Do you think?” (Y/N) questions, unable to keep the eager hope from her voice.

“I know,” Amelia nods sagely, “I heard Uncle Tony tell Mama and Papa.”

(Y/N) presses her lips together to keep the wide smile from growing across her face. She had known that Anthony felt very deeply for her though he had never uttered a word. With a quick glance in Anthony’s direction, she gestures for the two girls to come closer. “Can you keep a secret?”

Amelia and Belinda nod silently; too excited to hear what (Y/N) has to say. “It just so happens,” (Y/N) whispers to the two girls, “That I also love your Uncle Tony.”

“You do?” Belinda squeaks.

“I do,” (Y/N) nods seriously, “I love him very much.”

“Are you going to tell him?” Amelia asks; her blue eyes wide with burning curiosity.

“I think on some level he already knows, but I plan on telling him very soon.”

Both girls squeal in happiness, leaving (Y/N) behind as they run towards their parents. Daphne and Simon greet their children with open arms, wide eyed at their level of noise as they demand their voices to be heard over the hubbub of the rest of the family.

“I don’t suppose you’d enlighten me to this particular conversation,” A warm voice sounds from behind her. The way his arm slips around her waist, as if it were his home, tells (Y/N) that Anthony has found her once more.

“A secret for another day,” (Y/N) teases, turning to face the man that had captured her heart so wholly.

“Will you tell me later?” He asks, pushing out his bottom lip in a pout that has her giggling.

“Perhaps,” She whispers, leaning ever closer to the Bridgerton. “Only if you promise me something.”

“Anything,” He whispers seriously, “I’d give you the world if I could.”

“I know you would,” She murmurs, “But all I’m asking for is for you to not pester your nieces over what I told them.”

“How did you know?” Anthony asks, voice glum.

(Y/N) brings a gloved hand to his cheek, her thumb brushing his cheekbone. “Because I know you, my dear.”

Anthony leans into the touch, turning his face slightly to press a kiss to her wrist. “I like being your dear.”

“I like being yours too,” She replies earnestly. “Now, I’ve spoken to most of your siblings. Do me the honour of introducing me to Francesca, she came all the way from Scotland, it’s rude that I’ve neglected her.”

“Yes, my darling,” Anthony responds, taking her hand and leading her to the couch where Francesca sits with her husband, Michael.

The day continues in a similar fashion. Bridgerton House had never been quiet when the whole family was in attendance; raucous laughter and loving bickering filled its many corners with noise. The life and laughter of the family bringing the house to life.

As the grandfather clock ticks closer and closer to the evening, (Y/N) finds herself lamenting the fact that she must leave the Bridgerton family so soon.

“I must take my leave,” She announces to sad cries to Amelia and Belinda, already so attached.

“So soon?” Benedict asks, frowning as he wonders when he’ll get to continues his conversation with her. So few wanted to talk about art nowadays.

(Y/N) meets Anthony’s gaze, hating how sad he looks. “I’m having dinner with my parents and their friends. An occasion I simply cannot miss, I’m afraid.”

“Do we know them?” Violet asks in an attempt to delay the inevitable. She had grown fond of the young woman over the course of the afternoon, seeing how perfectly she fit amongst her family, how she brought out the best in her eldest son.

“The St. Clair’s?” (Y/N) enquires, drawing her shawl around her shoulders. “My father has worked with Lady Danbury’s family for a long time. Gareth and I are old friends.”

“Have a wonderful time,” Violet announces, “But please visit us soon.”

“I would love to,” (Y/N) smiles, crossing the room to be by Anthony’s side.

Offering her goodbyes to the large family, (Y/N) takes Anthony’s offered arm, hooking hers through his as they descend the grand marble staircase to the foyer. “Your family are lovely,” (Y/N) compliments as she takes care not to trip over her skirts on the stairs. “You all care for each so much, it’s clear the moment you enter the room.”

“My mother and siblings are the best people I know,” Anthony murmurs, walking beside (Y/N) at a steady pace in order to delay her departure by a minute.

“I can only hope they liked me,” She worries, her teeth biting into her bottom lip in a way that has Anthony restraining himself by gripping her arm tighter.

“You were wonderful,” Anthony murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to her cheekbone before helping her into her carriage.

“Thank you for today,” (Y/N) calls, sticking her hand from the window to prolong the contact between Anthony and herself. She wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye; wasn’t quite ready to leave him.

“Thank you for coming,” Anthony answers, kissing her hand before tucking it back through the window of her carriage. If they didn’t say goodbye now, they wouldn’t say goodbye at all. If she didn’t leave, he would most likely offer marriage on the pavement than somewhere proper.

Nodding to her footman, Anthony watches her carriage leave. He stands on the doorstep to Bridgerton House until her carriage is no longer in sight. Only then does he let himself release the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Weariness washes over him as he turns to face his childhood home. Inside, in his mother’s drawing room, await his family. Each one ready to give their verdict on the woman he has had the good fortune to fall in love with.

Sighing, he kicks at the ground, knowing he cannot delay this any longer.

His mother and siblings are where he left them; his mother’s drawing room. They fall silent at the sight of him; each clearly unwilling to make the leap and be the first to broach the elephant in the room.

“What do you think of (Y/N)?” Anthony asks; voice loud in the ever so silent room. He meets the eyes of each of his siblings, not missing the way Daphne leans into Simon or the way Michael reaches for Francesca’s hand. They’ve all found their love matches; it was now Anthony’s turn.

Colin takes the fall for his family, standing to face his eldest brother and titled peer. He clears his throat, fidgeting on the spot before he eventually pauses all movement, breaking into a smile to declare, “We all loved her!”

“You do?” Anthony asks, falling onto a nearby couch in shock.

Violet smiles at her eldest son. “We do. (Y/N) is a sweetheart and looks to be just as taken with you as you are with her.”

Blush begins to paint Anthony’s cheeks. “I can only hope, dear mother.”

“It’s true,” Amelia chimes, her young face bright with joy. “She told Belinda and I.”

“You have found your love match, my darling boy,” Violet states warmly.

“It does help that (Y/N) is a trifle more tolerable than you, dear brother,” Benedict teases, laughter bright in his Bridgerton blue eyes.

“And so educated!” Eloise gasps, “We had an enlightening conversation about Wollstonecraft’s Vindication on the Rights of Women.”

“She was wonderful with Amelia and Belinda,” Daphne murmurs, her hand falling protectively over her pregnant stomach.

“Why do I get the feeling that you prefer (Y/N) to me?” Anthony murmurs, mischief bright in his eyes and evident in his voice.

“That’s exactly what we’re saying,” Gregory points out, “I only hope (Y/N) can keep up with your obsession with Pall Mall.”

“A worthy obsession,” Anthony argues, mind wandering to the games he could play with (Y/N).

“She’s wonderful,” Violet interrupts, a large smile on her face as she takes the final say.

Anthony smiles widely at his mother; constantly grateful for her love and care throughout his life. She had been lost after the death of his father, as had Anthony, but Anthony had never truly understood what it would feel like to lose someone you love as wholeheartedly as his mother loved his father.

Until now, that is. The mere thought of losing her sends a lance of pain through his chest, cutting short his breath and increasing his panic. Anthony shakes his head to rid himself of such thoughts and feelings.

Calm enough, he faces his family once more. “I plan on proposing to (Y/N),” He announces, showing his family the ring box that has been sitting heavily in his trouser pocket all day.

“Thank goodness,” Francesca murmurs, smiling indulgently at her big brother. “I cannot wait to call her sister.”

“Indeed,” Anthony murmurs, a loving smile on his face, “I cannot wait to call her my wife.”

******

Bridgerton taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @sexysirius @wallwriterstuff @magicalxdaydream @darkestbeforethedawn16 @gryffindors-weasley @spideysz​ @iammirrorball​ @writeroutoftime​ @joyfullymulti​ @nuttytani​ @multifandomfix​ @freyathehuntress​ @lespaceboi​

Taglists are open! Drop me an ask if you would like to be added!

[promptsinpanem]

From the Ashes We Rise

Summary: (AU) In a world where powerful deities reside in the heavens of Panem above, a young demigoddess named Katniss, possessing the gift of fire, struggles to find her way. As daughter of the benevolent nature god, Katniss accepts her rightful place in the heavens; however, she’s inexplicably drawn to the mortal world, especially to a golden-haired baker’s boy. When everything is turned upside down and brother turns on brother, Katniss must make an important choice and fight for what she believes in. Will she be able to protect her precious boy with the bread in the process?

Rating: T 

Prompt: R2D4: Everlark through the Ages (Ancient Greece)/R6D1: Peeta’s Paintbox (Red)  

Author’s Note: I’ve been wanting to write this fic for a very long time. Thanks, promptsinpanem, for giving me the opportunity! I’m so thrilled to be participating in PiP for the very first time! Thanks to daydreamsandcaffeine for her help with the title! 

***** Katniss 

My eyes flutter open as I wake, feeling far less rested than normal. My immortal body doesn’t require much, neither food (only the special nectar of the gods) nor sleep to sustain itself; however, nights like last night always leave me feeling ill at ease, as if I’m crawling out of my skin.  

I had that dream again. I dreamed of the boy, and the fire…  

I wonder about him sometimes‒Is he safe? Is he eating enough?‒although, I refuse to look in on him. He could be dead for all I know (I hope not), but I paid the price for my foolishness years ago and have vowed never to see him again. 

At least, not during the waking hours.  

Briefly, I ponder asking Morpheus for a potent sleep syrup that’ll send me into the deepest, dreamless state of sleep. Perhaps he would do a trade. 

I decide to keep it in mind. 

With a yawn, I raise my arms above my head and emerge from my fluffy cocoon of pillows and blankets. The large bed is to my liking as is my new place in Victor’s Village. Most of the young gods and goddesses live here, and the dwellings are more than adequate, if not as magnificent and specially customized as the palaces of the major deities. I could have remained with my father, of course, who despite being the present ruler of the gods, has a modest, charming abode rather than a grandiose palace, but I felt it was time to strike out on my own. 

I get out of bed and pad over to my gilded full-length mirror. I stand there, naked, looking at myself. I sleep in the nude sometimes; it’s relaxing and freeing, and I like to imagine I’m floating in a secluded stream. It’s been so long since I’ve been in the mortal world and seen a real stream. Staring at my reflection, I give myself a once-over, then turn to the side and crane my neck to get a better look at the jagged mark between my shoulder blades. Where the beam fell on me, right between where my wings protrude. It still hasn’t faded. I couldn’t believe it even left a mark, though my powers were weakened then, and I was young. 

I’m older now, and much stronger. Nothing like that will ever happen again. I won’t let it. 

As I’m observing myself, I hear a throaty giggle/cackle, and in a burst of black and red dust, she appears behind me.  

“Hey!” I exclaim, hastening to cover myself with a sheet. I hate how she just pops into my chambers unannounced. She doesn’t have an ounce of respect for anyone’s privacy. “Do you mind?” I twirl my finger, and the sheet whips around my body, wrapping tightly and knotting at the top.  

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” the Goddess of Love titters. Well, of course. She prances around naked all the time. But I’m far more modest than her, even if I do enjoy sleeping naked sometimes. 

I turn my head slightly. Although she does regularly flaunt her nakedness, especially when she can get a reaction from someone, she’s dressed today, in her typical all-white attire, and her white-blonde hair is in its usual pixie cut. She’s gone to my bed and is floating just barely above the edge of it. She crosses one leg over the other and cocks her head to the side. “You’ve developed,” she remarks, and I roll my eyes at her in the mirror. “You’re a full-fledged adult now, aren’t you?”

“Jo,” I huff, not bothering to thank her for the rare compliment‒or what I assume was one; maybe she was only mocking me. Coldly, I stare at her reflection in the mirror. “What do you want?” 

“My, how rude,” she snarks. “And you address the Goddess of Love so casually?”  

“How would you have me greet you?” I challenge. 

“Ohh, how about Oh Glorious One or Most Majestic Supreme Being…” She tosses out several more overblown honorifics, and I barely refrain from gagging. 

“Is your ego really so big, Johanna?” I say. 

She smirks at me.  

“Fine.” I give, only in order to get her to go away. “You are looking well today… Oh Beauteous Goddess.” I somehow manage to say it with a straight face and without choking on any of the words. 

Johanna approaches me then. She pats my head like a dog and tells me, “Good little demigoddess.” 

I jerk my head away and scowl. 

I’d often wondered how a goddess like Johanna ever came to earn the title of Goddess of Love, and she explained it to me before. She’d said that there are many different types of love, which she understands well but is also able to remain detached from. And then she’d complained about being beaten out for the Goddess of Wisdom and Warfare. 

“Jo, was there something you needed?” I ask impatiently. 

“Why the rush? You’re not even dressed yet.” 

I am in a rush, actually. 

“I have errands,” I say. For one, I’m eager to visit the forge for a repair to my bow and new arrows, and I’m about three seconds away from popping out on her, no matter how angry it might make her. 

“Ah, then you’d better put something on, hadn’t you?” she says. “I was only popping in to say hello, anyway.”   

Jo is in an exceptionally good mood today, and I don’t even want to imagine why. Most likely, she did something particularly wicked, or naughty.  

As I’m pushing the thought from my mind, she waves a hand. In an instant, my sheet vanishes and is replaced by a flame red dress with a sheer black underlay, giving the appearance of coals in a fire. With a snap of her finger the dress appears to ignite, sizzling and crackling against my skin. I feel nothing, of course. 

“What do you think?” She places her hands upon her slender hips, and I look down to observe the dress. 

“It’s…nice,” I say, taking a closer look in the mirror. The dress gives the illusion that I’m on fire‒kind of unnecessary, of course, considering I command the substance and can easily ignite myself for real at any time, but it is a pretty dress. She bids me to twirl, but I ignore her. 

I remind her that I need to be off, and this time, she doesn’t fight me. I thank her for the dress and disappear. 

***** I get to the forge, and fortunately, Thresh has no other pressing business, so he's able to quickly repair my weapon and whip up a fresh batch of arrows for me. Not that I mind watching him work; he's so methodical, and he doesn't chitchat much. Usually, he only gives me a hello and goodbye greeting, but today, he mentions that my Uncle Snow was just here. 

That's odd.  ***** Once my weapon is done I go to my private woodland retreat to shoot. It’s not a real woods but a hologram, one generated by godly magic, my father's, to be precise. It's lovely, but I wish I could go to Earth to hunt for real. 

After, I decide pay my uncle a visit. I'm curious about why he was at the forge. I know where to search for him, and naturally, he’s in the first place I look–the Arena. 

Uncle Snow greatly enjoys the Arena, which is a large coliseum where the gods, typically the ‘lesser’ gods, challenge one another for sport and accolades, and of course, for the entertainment of the greater gods. It’s one of his favorite pastimes to watch the other gods fight and to place his bets. Sometimes ferocious beasts are conjured as well‒lions, tigers, or occasionally, specially modified creations. And then there are the chariot races, too. 

“Ah, Katniss,” my uncle greets me the moment I materialize in the seat next to him. His snakelike eyes scan me. “You look lovely in red, my dear.” 

My eyes flicker down to my new dress; I can hear the flames crackling against my skin. It is beautiful, but a bit loud, literally. 

“Jo made me wear it,” I say.   

My uncle nods. “Well, it suits you. Although,” he smirks, “you really shouldn’t let the Goddess of Love push you around, my dear.” 

“I don’t!” I protest. “She just…sort of does what she wants.” 

“That she does,” my uncle agrees. 

We watch a battle together, which ends in a stalemate. That happens a lot. 

"Not much sport in it, is there?" Uncle Snow comments. I refrain from asking if it's so boring, then why does he come so often. “Gods fighting other gods..." 

"What would you suggest, Uncle?" 

Uncle Snow thinks on this a moment, but he doesn't answer me. 

“There are the wagers," I offer. "And I hear that when Cato won his fight he made Marvel be his servant for the day. That's kind of...interesting." 

My uncle sneers. “Yes, of course, the accolades and such are all well and good; however, there’s no sense of urgency when death is not on the line. Not like when the mortals battle." He pauses. "Wouldn’t that be something..." 

I almost laugh. 

"Mortals, Uncle?" He wants to bring mortals to the Arena to fight? It'd be a bloodbath. “That’s ridiculous. Not only would a mortal never stand a chance against a god, but it’s impossible to bring a mortal to the mountain." 

“Oh, I assure you, nothing is impossible, my darling.” 

I consider this. 

"Uncle Snow," I begin. "If I ask you something, will you answer me honestly?" 

"Why, of course, my dear. In fact, let’s make a pact right now, shall we?” Hesitantly, I nod. “Let’s agree never to lie to each other.” 

This seems foolish‒What reason do my uncle or I have to lie to one another, anyway?‒but I agree. 

“We’ll do as the mortals do.” He looks at me expectantly, and I’m confused. “Shake on it,” he says, extending his hand. I stare down at it. 

“Now, you put your hand in mine,” he explains patiently, and I slide my palm against his and feel him squeeze my hand. 

“So, then, now that we have our pact, tell me,” Uncle Snow takes a sip from his cup, “what do you really think of Cato?” 

“I think he’s vile,” I answer without pause, and my uncle chuckles. “He brought up my scar,” I say. 

“How rude of him,” my uncle remarks, then sighs. “However, it is your own fault your lovely skin was marred forever, niece. Not even Gloss was able to remove the mark.” 

“I know,” I grumble. “But…he would have died.” 

“Such is mortality, Katniss,” he says without a shred of compassion. “Mortals are not long for this world. It isn’t their world, after all; it’s ours. We’re merely allowing them to live in it. Death will come for the boy eventually.” 

Not on my watch, I think. And I don’t know where that came from. Since when am I the boy’s protector? And besides, my uncle is right; eventually, old age will catch up with him, and it’s not like I can chase him into the Underworld…

I digress, and I'm going to question my uncle about the forge, but another fight is about to begin. This one causes Uncle Snow to shift in his seat. 

“Oh, you’re in for a real treat, my darling," he says. "This is a special event. The God of the Sea versus the God of War.”

[sitp-recs]

Hi! I lovee your blog, I was wondering if you knew of any fics happening during their time at hogwarts (not eight year). I’ve been dying for some canon divergence recently!!

❤️

Hello anon! I rarely read this trope so I think my followers will be more helpful. These are the few I’ve read and enjoyed:

Erosmancy by astolat (M, 11k)

Blaise was immune to whatever it was people usually felt around his mother, for which he was profoundly grateful, since no one needed an Oedipal complex on quite that spectacular a scale, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a thorough respect for her gift.

Catch 22 by jad (M, 50k)

As if NEWTS weren't enough, Dumbledore's gone and had another one of his 'bright ideas.' If all ends well, the Houses will be getting along in no time. Or according to Harry's correspondent, an Apocalypse will be in order. [OotP/HBP/DH disregarded]

Transformation by amalin (E, 98k)

Harry/Draco, with a mild shot of Harry/Tonks. In Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts, he must face the consequences of the attack on the Department of Mysteries and the effects of Voldemort's return. And in doing so, he finds that even your enemies can teach you valuable lessons—about the world, and about yourself.

Changing Tides by carpemermaid (E, 109k)

Draco has spent half of his life spouting the things his father has taught him without much thought about how he feels about what he says. When he unexpectedly comes face to face with the Dark Lord, he grapples with the harsh realities of the world and struggles with his changing views on life.

Bond by AnnaFugazzi (M, 173k)

I started to write this before HBP came out, and crossed my fingers that HBP wouldn't make it totally non-canon. No such luck, I'm afraid. This, therefore, is an AU story, where (SPOILER) still teaches (SPOILER), (SPOILER) didn't try to (SPOILER), (SPOILER) didn't succeed in (SPOILER), (SPOILER) never dated (SPOILER), and most importantly, (MAJOR ENDING SPOILERS) never happened.

The Secret Keeper by fools_errand (M, 225k)

On Halloween 1981, Albus Dumbledore made a decision that would change the course of history, concealing Harry Potter’s survival at the hands of Lord Voldemort underneath a Fidelius Charm. But when Harry comes of age in the Muggle world, Dumbledore realises too late that the fate of the world may depend on a boy who has never held a wand.

Twist of Fate by Oakstone730 (T, 300k)

Draco asks Harry to help him beat the Imperius curse during 4th year. The lessons turn into more than either expected. A story of redemption and forgiveness. Pairings: HP/DM (Slash) Timeframe: 1994-2002 Goblet to 4 yrs post-DH EWE Rating T for language, high angst, content.

Bonus: I haven’t read these three but I’ve seen them recced all around so I’m adding them:

Evitative by Vichan (T, 220k)

In the summer before his fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry is drawn to a room in Grimmauld Place. Like the Gryffindor he is, he enters the room without fear. The room is a library, and Harry is surprised to find that he’s eager to learn.

Men Who Love Dragons Too Much by fencer_x

‘Kill Albus Dumbledore’ is less a challenging task and more a suicide mission, so when Draco Malfoy is presented with the option to either dispatch his Headmaster or suffer an excruciating and most ignominious death of his own, along with his parents, he reaches deep into his black little Slytherin heart and manages to scrape together enough courage to go with option C instead: Spend Sixth Year secretly studying Animagecraft in the hopes he’ll turn into something sufficiently imposing even the Dark Lord himself won’t be able to keep Draco under his thumb. But just his luck, his Animagus form turns out to be a dragon, and a rather randy juvenile at that, intent on finding its mate: one Harry James Potter.

The Mirror of Ecidyrue by starbrigid (T/M, WIP)

All it takes is one look in a mirror and an ill-advised attempt to shatter it, before an embittered Draco Malfoy fresh out of Azkaban is sent back into his body on the day he gets his Hogwarts letter.

[oneshot-wxnderland]

Lab Partners With Benefits Pt. 3 | Percy Jackson

Summary: Another week, another lab and Y/n and Percy are feeling a different kind of tension this time.

Category: fluff 

Part 1 | Part 2

–––––––––––––––––––

          Percy had been kicking himself all week. He had forgotten to ask you for your number before you left his place and now you probably thought he was just some asshole looking for a one-time hookup. And he didn’t want that. And he hoped you didn’t want that either. But he wasn’t really sure what he wanted. 

         It’d been a hot minute since Percy was in any kind of relationship and he wasn’t sure if he was even the relationship kind. Even if he did want to be, his life just didn’t lend itself to dating mortals. There was always some monster popping up that he’d have to fight, or quest he’d have to go on, or emergency at camp he’d have to run off to, and Percy was a shit liar. It’s what messed up the last time he’d tried to date somebody. He was constantly blowing off dates and rain-checking everything because the gods are needy attention seekers. 

          He’d seen superhero movies before and related a lot to when they had similar issues. Percy’s not saying he’s Spiderman or anything, but he does live in New York and save it from constant peril – so yeah, he’s Spiderman. 

          This time, however, he was really considering trying again. Trying with you. And Percy had a plan. 

          Sliding into his seat when there were only a few other people in the room yet, Percy felt pumped up. He woke up early, showered, had a FaceTime with the boys to discuss the game plan, and got to class ahead of you so that he was ready to give you his number the first chance he got before he lost his nerve. That was part of Jason’s advice: offer his number to you instead of asking for yours. He claimed it would make Percy come off more vulnerable and less pushy. Leo mostly just spouted different cheesy lines that Percy would never use. Frank didn’t say much but Hazel piped in every now and then when she took the phone from him. 

          “So, you’re lab partners,” Hazel started. “Do you talk outside of your lab?”

          “No, that’s why I need her number.”

          “But you said you did homework together at your place right? So how’d that go? Did she seem interested?”

          Percy paused. 

          “Yeah, it went... fine.”

          Hazel was blissfully unaware of the blush that was creeping up his neck but Jason didn’t miss it. Or the way he suddenly needed to roll up his sleeves and fiddle with them. 

          “Did you just do the homework?” Jason asked suspiciously. 

          “We uh... kissed...” 

          “Niiiiiicee, Percy!” Leo hollered. “That’s my boy!”

          Frank retook the phone from Hazel and hastily gave an excuse to go before leaving the call and cutting off Hazel’s confused protests.

          “I don’t know what to tell you, man,” Jason shook his head. “This is way beyond my level now. Piper and Annabeth are nearby I’ll go get them-.”

          “No!” Percy cut him off. That’s the last thing he wanted. The girl’s won’t know or care what to do so they’d ask Piper’s siblings and then the entirety of camp would know. “It doesn’t really change anything. I’m going to give her my number and then the ball’s in her court and I don’t have to worry about it.”

          “But your balls were in her court, weren’t they Percy.” 

          “Leo I am going to kill you when I get back to camp and that is a threat.”

          Leo left the call.

          “I’m sure it’ll be fine, just don’t do your game-time face because it’ll scare her off,” Jason tried to get the conversation back on track.

          “What face? I don’t have a scary face?” Percy added another item to the list of things to not do when he saw her.

          “Yes you do. It’s when you’re charging into battle but this isn’t battle is it Percy?” 

          “You’re lucky,” Percy lamented while he grabbed his backpack. “You just woke up and were already with Piper. All the hard work done for you.” 

          “You got this man, just be yourself.” 

          Percy decided to throw that particular bit of garbage advice away. 

          Now he was sitting in his seat, got there early, and he was even wearing his nice t-shirt, so what could go wrong.

          As soon as you walked in the door all of his carefully curated bravado deflated inside of him. You walked towards your shared table and he had to expel childish nerves he hadn’t felt in years. He’s in college now, for Hades’ sake. He was a man.

          “Hey,” you greeted as you sat down.

          “Hi.” That was stupid. Men don’t say ‘hi’. He should’ve said ‘hey’ back.

          “You’re here early,” you commented and Percy just nodded like an idiot. 

          The plan was to giver you his number as soon as he saw you, but he couldn’t just blurt that out of nowhere. 

          “How’ve you been?” 

          There. Establishing a conversation and definitely not stalling.

          “I’ve been good.” The small amused smile on your face calmed him down a little. He’s got this.

          Class started before he could slip his number in casually but Percy wasn’t deterred. He wasn’t going to let geology get in his way.

                    While you were reading the data you had to chart on the graph, you noticed Percy’s usual fidgeting get even worse. Glancing at him from the corner of your eye, you saw him concentrating intensely on the paper and trying to contain his frustration. You recognized the signs since one of your friends has dyslexia, but you knew he wouldn’t ask for help.

          “So we have to plot the points on the graph and then draw the elevation lines, right?” You asked casually, looking over to him for confirmation. He nodded his head, but still continued to squint at the numbers which all were very small print and close to each other.

         Muttering the numbers as if to yourself but loud enough for him to hear, you got to work. 

          Percy sat back and smiled a little, knowing what you were doing. He looked over at you, from your furrowed brow to your crossed legs bouncing with your tapping foot. With a contented sigh, he recalled what it felt like to be in between those legs. Having them wrapped around his hips while you moaned his name. 

          His eyes trailed up your body, memories that were attached to each part flooding through him like a highlight reel of his deepest fantasies. Then he got to your bare arms and the goosebumps on the skin shook him out of it.

          “Cold?” he asked, interrupting you trying to help him which he really should have been listening to. 

          “Yeah, a little.” 

          “Here.” Percy shrugged off his hoodie and held it out to you before pausing (and slightly panicking.)

          Hold up, is this weird? Am I being weird right now? Should giving her my hoodie come before or after we exchange numbers? I guess doing it before could be a good test of whether she would be interested in exchanging numbers. But this is couple stuff. Her wearing my hoodie. That usually comes after numbers. But she’s cold now and I can’t seem like an asshole withholding warmth unless she accepts or declines my number. 

           Luckily, you didn’t seem to notice his panic as you took the hoodie from him without hesitation and put it on. “Thanks.”

          He calmed down as he watched you roll up the sleeves so that your hands were free to work and he felt a different kind of warmth spread through him. He liked the way you looked in his hoodie. 

          You caught him watching you and it threw you off. This wasn’t the heated gaze that had made you melt before, this was... softer. But the moment was ruined when you glanced down and saw that he hadn’t drawn a single point yet.

          “Hey,” you tapped your pencil on his paper. “Focus.”

          “Sorry.”

          You worked well together for a while. The rhythm of plotting points distracted Percy from his nerves. That is until he felt your hand on his forearm.

          “What’s this?” You asked, finger tracing the SPQR of his tattoo and making him shiver.

          “Oh, it’s a band.” 

          “What band?”

          “The Super Popular... Cool Rockers.”

          “They spell Cool with a Q?”

          “That’s what makes it cool.”

          “Ah.”

          Percy went back to the worksheet, congratulating himself on his quick thinking when he saw you pull out your phone. 

          “What are you doing?” he asked, totally nonchalant. 

          “Looking up the Super Popular Qool Rockers.”

          Percy snatched your phone. 

          “Oh, you won’t find them.” He dodged your attempts to grab it. “They’re really underground.”

          “You’ll be really underground if you don’t give me my phone back.” Percy hastily returned your phone, as if the threat scared him. You tried to glare at him, but found it too hard to suppress your smile once his broke out. “Thank you. Now will you tell me what it really means?”

          “Maybe one day.” People started packing their things and leaving since class had flown by faster than Percy liked. Sensing his window of opportunity closing he decided to Hades with it. “Depends if you go on a date with me.”

          You took your time standing up and gathering your things while pretending to mull it over in your head. Which Percy really did not appreciate. 

          “Maybe one day,” you answered him with a coquettish smile and took a few steps towards the door. “Well, aren’t you coming?”

          Percy was too concentrated on restraining a fist pump to puzzle out your meaning. 

          “We didn’t get much work done today, so we better finish what we started at your place.” You winked at him and strided out the door.

          With a mischievous grin, Percy was quick to follow. 

[fischerfrey]

HPMA; Dawncey ficlets, part 1

It’s the first night of autumn term and Quincey is glad to be back at school and away from his hectic muggle life. That is, until he runs into his classmate and a bitter Quidditch rival; Dawn Harvelle.

Words: 900

Warnings: Under-age drinking (mentioned)

A/N: This is the first part of a series of little Dawncey ficlets, set during their 6th year.

MCs mentioned:

Dawn Harvelle by @potionboy3​

Pandora Lovelace by @gcldensnitch​

Beginning｜Next Chapter

September 1st, 2012

It was the first night of the term and the welcome feast had drawn to its conclusion. Quincey’s friends had all gone ahead to the dorm, but he felt like taking the long way round. It was good being back at school. Everything at home was a mess right now, and his mother was furious with him for making tabloid headlines at Jessie’s party. It was not as if he had meant to drink as much as he had, much less throw up on his 2000£ Gucci bomber jacket, but it was all partly his mother’s fault, for pestering him about quitting Hogwarts as not to arouse suspicion. They had always told a story about a very prestigious boarding school in Switzerland, and the Headmistress had been kind enough to assist Quincey in the lie. Social media had made being a secret wizard much more difficult than Quincey thought was fair. Social media had made everything much more difficult than Quincey thought was fair. To his dismay, Quincey was pulled away from his thoughts by a familiar voice behind him in the corridor:

“Is your school uniform more or less expensive than your usual party wear?”

Quincey stopped and turned on his heels. Dawn Harvelle, Gryffindor’s Quidditch team’s seeker, a professional prick, and a constant thorn in Quincey’s side walked towards him with a grin plastered on his face.

“They’re all the same,” Quincey answered. He was not in the mood for this. Dawn was a muggleborn like him, and the fact that they were Quidditch rivals had made sure that he was always in the loop for Quincey’s latest tabloid plunders.

“Does this look the same to you?” Dawn asked, pointing to his own uniform. Upon further inspection, it was clearly second-hand. Quincey felt ridiculous.

“I only meant that there’s no secret diamond-encrusted sweater model sewn with golden thread.”

“Obviously, but there is a prize-range,” Dawn countered. “Have you ever been to Madam Malkin’s yourself?”

Quincey didn’t say anything but started walking. Dawn followed him.

“Didn’t mean to fry your brain, Your Highness.”

“You’re funny,” Quincey said, as flatly as he could muster.

“It’s my best quality,” Dawn said. “Along with my good looks and charm, of course.”

Quincey tried very, very hard not to roll his eyes.

“You changed your hair,” Dawn noted. Quincey instinctively touched his hair. He had let it grow a bit and dyed it a few shades darker.

“I like to switch things up,” he said.

“I’ve noticed.”

“I’m going to make it darker still.”

“I thought you were for sure like, not allowed to dye your hair under any circumstances.”

“It’s not like that, though my parents do take an interest in my fashion choices,” Quincey explained. Truthfully, his mother didn’t like him dying his hair and it was infinitely annoying. “So usually I just experiment here at school.”

“Magic saves your rebel soul,” offered Dawn. Everything he said sounded like a joke on Quincey’s expense. It probably was.

“Colovaria does come in handy.”

“You any good?”

“I think so,” replied Quincey. “I mean once I tried it on my fingernails and couldn’t get the colour out for days.”

“Wizards are too lazy for their own good,” Dawn muttered.

“That I can agree with.”

“Your family isn’t much better, though,” Dawn added, making their brief moment of seeing eye to eye dissipate right in front of Quincey’s eyes.

“Mmh.”

“All but you, of course, my rebel prince.”

“I’m really not,” Quincey sighed. This whole conversation was aggravating.

“Oh, I know.”

“Good.”

“Aw, you do care what I think of you!”

“Not in particular,” Quincey retorted. If there ever was an anthropomorphic personification of a headache, he was looking at him. “Except in the pitch.”

“That’s the spirit,” Dawn grinned.

“See you there,” said Quincey.

“It’s a date.”

Suddenly Quincey realized that they were nearly to the dungeons. He was going to his common room, but he had no idea where Dawn was headed.

“The Gryffindor Tower’s the other way,” he said.

Dawn looked momentarily taken aback. Then his face went back to its neutral state of being annoyingly smug. “I’m going to meet Pandora by the Kitchens.”

“Well then we’re headed the same way.”

“Obviously,” Dawn said.

“Obviously,” Quincey agreed. Dawn cleared his throat. Quincey gave him a quizzical look.

“Something in my throat,” he said quickly. “You going to miss all your fancy celebrity friends?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“Even after you threw up in Jessie J’s party?”

“All of them thought it was hilarious,” sighed Quincey.

“Am I giving you hell?”

“No.”

“Dammit, I have to ty harder.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do?”

Dawn laughed a little. “Yes, but you’re here now.”

This time Quincey did roll his eyes. Dawn blew him a kiss.

“I’m only teasing, you can, of course, be friends with whomever you want.”

“Thank you,” Quincey said. “Not that I require your permission.”

“Only your mother’s.”

Quincey almost wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but he didn’t, instead he said: “Mh.”

Dawn looked at him for a moment. Quincey couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“This is your stop, isn’t it?” asked Dawn eventually. Quincey looked around and noticed they were at the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room.

“Oh, yes.”

“Well,” Dawn said. “Good talk.”

“Yes,” agreed Quincey, though it was the opposite. “Very enlightening.”

“I’m a very enlightened person.”

Quincey shook his head. “Tell Pandora I said hi.”

“What? Oh, yeah, I will,” Dawn said. Quincey waved at him and the Gryffindor headed towards the Kitchen. Quincey turned and went into the common room. If he didn’t have to talk to Dawn Harvelle ever again, it would be too soon.

[fics-n-stuff]

A Nice Christmas

Thanks to @gayhistorynerd for the prompt, see here (I kind of deviated from it a little maybe a lot but the story still stemmed from this prompt)

Pairing: Wilhelm × Simon

Summary: Wilhelm may have denied being in the sex tape, but that doesn't mean that the world has forgotten. The Christmas break proves to be difficult for both Simon and Wilhelm, one suffering from ongoing harassment and the other feeling completely isolated, and they find that they can't help but be drawn back to each other.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: This took me so long to write because I got writer's block right after I started it. This doesn't have a super happy ending because I wanted to try and keep it pretty realistic, but it is pretty sweet and wholesome.

Taglist: @probablyprocrastinatingrightnow @rika90 @angelwilhelm

Wilhelm had never felt more alone than he did being home for Christmas break. He spent as much time as was physically possible holed up in his bedroom, not wanting to see or talk to anyone, especially not his mother. He hadn’t turned his phone on for three days, he had bitten his nails down to the nailbeds and he hardly had any appetite. The ache in his chest was constant and unyielding.

He lay in the dark most of the time, his curtains closed throughout the day and only sometimes opened at night to let the moonlight in. Besides that, he didn’t have much idea of how time was passing.

He did know that it was Christmas eve though. And it must be the morning because nobody had come to drag him out of his bedroom to join the celebrations. A cursory peek around the curtain confirmed that, as Wilhelm saw that the sun hadn’t even fully risen yet.

A deep breath settled the stone in his stomach, and he reached for his phone with a shaky hand.

When the device turned on it immediately started going crazy with notifications, and Wilhelm felt his heart rate increase with every buzz.

5 messages from August

Ignore.

10 messages from Mamma

Ignore.

2 missed calls from Felice

Wilhelm paused in swiping away the notifications. Felice had called him twice and sent him three messages. He clicked on the message notification, sitting back against the wall and holding in a breath without realising it.

Felice: Hey Wille, how are you feeling being home?

Felice: I just wanted to check in but I can’t get a hold of you, I hope you’re doing alright

Felice: You probably don’t want to talk but you can call or text me whenever you do

Wilhelm sighed. Of all the people that he thought that he could depend on, Felice was the only one that he still had. He swallowed the lump in his throat and called her back.

It rang for a while before she answered, and he’d almost decided to hang up the call when it stopped ringing.

“Wille, good morning.” Felice greeted, cheerful but clearly tired. “Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, merry Christmas Felice.” Wilhelm replied feebly. His voice was hoarse from disuse.

“Are you alright? Do you want to talk about something?”

“Uhm, I- I don’t know, I just... I don’t know.” He stuttered, wrapping his free arm around himself.

“Okay, well, what are your plans for today?”

“I’m not sure, I haven’t really been talking to anyone. What, uh, what are your plans?”

“Oh, you know, just the usual. We’ll watch Kalle Anka's Jul and play some games before dinner, then we’ll open presents.” She explained. The tinny sound of her voice through the phone was actually quite calming.

“What about for the rest of the break?”

“Um, I’m going to New York to see Maddie for New Year, so that’ll be fun. And I’m going back to Bjärstad on Boxing Day to see Sara. I’m gonna stay there just for one night.”

“So you’ve been talking to Sara a lot then?” Wilhelm questioned, moving to bite at his almost non-existent nails.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Has she said anything about Simon? Do you know if he’s alright?” His words came out more rushed than he had intended. Clearly, he was more eager for some sort of information on Simon than he had thought.

“Um, she hasn’t said much but I think he’s pretty okay.” Felice replied, but it was followed by a small sigh that let Wilhelm know that there was more to the story. “Sara says that things have mostly gone back to normal, but Simon goes out a lot less and she’s had to make her Instagram private. I think they’ve had a few people show up at their house.”

Wilhelm swallowed hard, a feeling of guilt crawling under his skin. Simon’s Instagram account had been private ever since the video had been leaked, so it seemed that now people had found Sara’s too. They had attention on them that they had never signed up for, and Wilhelm knew that it was his fault and he felt terrible for that.

“Okay.” He replied shakily. There was a short silence before Felice spoke again.

“How are you, Wilhelm? Really?” She asked.

“Lonely.” He answered. “Listen, I have to go. I need to take a shower before someone comes demanding that I take part in the Christmas celebrations.”

“Alright well, call me back whenever, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Bye, Felice.”

“Bye, Wille. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

Wilhelm ran a hand over his face, letting out a groan of frustration and sadness. Why couldn’t he just be a normal kid?

He stared down at his phone in his lap, gnawing at the nail of his right thumb in contemplation. With a shaking breath and trembling fingers, he picked it back up, opened his conversation with Simon and typed a short message. He dropped his phone in mild panic as soon as he hit send, and rubbed his hand over his chest as he took a deep, steadying breath.

+ + +

“Simon, wake up. Rosh and Ayub will be here soon.” Sara’s voice stirred Simon from his sleep and he rolled over to look at her. She was already dressed.

“What time is it?” He asked with a yawn.

“Nine o’clock. Get up and come help with breakfast.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m getting up.”

Sara rolled her eyes and left the room, and Simon reached out to his bedside table blindly until his hand landed on his phone. He squinted at the screen as he sat up, faltering when he saw the notification on the screen.

Wilhelm: Merry Christmas Simon

He felt his heart race as he stared at the screen, only snapping out of it when he heard Sara shouting at him from downstairs. He blinked, dropped his phone and set about getting dressed.

Every Christmas eve since they were ten, Simon, Sara, Rosh and Ayub would have breakfast together and then go for a long walk. It was tradition for them at this point, but Simon found himself unable to feel excited for it this year. It was all well and good to pretend like life was going on as normal, but it was hard not to feel uncomfortable when people stared at him everywhere he went.

Rosh and Ayub arrived just as he and Sara were finishing up making breakfast, and they exchanged Christmas well-wishes as they sat down to eat.

“You’re being real quiet over there, Simme. You alright?” Ayub asked after a while, and Simon realised that he’d been completely zoned out.

“Sorry, just thinking.”

“About Wilhelm?” Sara questioned. Simon pushed a bite of food into his mouth and shrugged.

“You have to move on, Simon.” Rosh said. “I know you care about him but he’s not worth all the trouble that he comes with.”

“I know. That’s why I ended things.” He replied. “It still sucks though.”

“You’ll get over him eventually.” Sara told him, putting a comforting hand on his for a few seconds before going back to her food. Simon smiled slightly.

He didn’t tell them about the text.

Despite all of that, he was in high spirits when they set out for their walk, happily joking and laughing with his friends, and they made it half an hour before he heard the first comment.

“That’s the guy from the sex tape.” Muttered a girl to her friend as they passed, and Simon felt the smile fall from his face.

“Just ignore them.” Sara told him, wrapping an arm around one of his. He nodded, but it had gotten to him. For the rest of their walk from that point, Simon felt like every person that they passed was looking at him and judging him.

They walked both Rosh and Ayub back to their houses before heading back to theirs just a bit past noon. They had almost gotten home when they were approached by a group of teenagers probably slightly younger than them.

“Are you the guy from that viral sex tape?” One of the boys asked unabashedly, the group coming right up in front of Simon and Sara and blocking their path.

“Uh, I don’t want to talk about that.” Simon replied stiffly, still trying to be polite.

“Oh my god, it is him!” A girl exclaimed.

“Was it actually the crown prince in the video?” Another chimed. Simon felt lightheaded.

“He already said that it wasn’t.” He deflected, trying to sidestep the group.

“Yeah, but there’s a lot of people that don’t actually believe him.” The girl laughed; actually laughed, as if this hadn’t been an earth shattering event for Simon.

“If it wasn’t Prince Wilhelm then who was it in the video?” A boy asked, and that was when Simon spotted the phone filming him and his stomach dropped.

“I’m not discussing my sex life with a bunch of strangers.” He scoffed in disbelief, shouldering his way past the group with Sara close behind him. “Please leave me alone.”

“You could just tell us if it was actually the prince or not.” One of them pressed, the group now following after Simon. “If it wasn’t him then you don’t have anything to hide.”

“Oh my god, did the royal family pay you off? Did they make you sign an NDA!?”

“Were you, like, boyfriends? Or was it just a hookup?”

Simon kept walking, keeping his head down and not answering any of the questions being hurled at him. He could sense that Sara was just as tense beside him. The group followed them for a full block before Simon finally lost his cool and came to a dead stop, turning to face them.

“I’m not going to answer your questions. The fact that you’re following me is not going to make me answer your questions. I’ve had my privacy majorly invaded once already and now you’re invading it again. I’m trying to enjoy Christmas with my sister and you’re chasing me with a camera, I’m sick of people harassing me.” He fumed, making sure to meet the eye of every one of them at some point. “Whatever you choose to believe is not my problem. It doesn’t matter whether you think that the crown prince is telling the truth or you choose to make up some type of theory, I deserve my privacy.”

He didn’t wait for any type of response before he turned around and walked away, thankful to find that they weren’t going to follow him anymore.

“You handled that well.” Sara said quietly once they had turned the next corner. Simon didn’t reply.

When they got home, he went straight upstairs without a word. He slammed his bedroom door shut and buried his face in his pillow, unable to hold the tears back any longer.

By that same evening, the video was viral.

+ + +

I bet that girl was right and the royal family made him sign an NDA

If he didn’t want people to think it was the prince he would have just said that it wasn’t so either the prince was lying or this guy is seeking attention

He’s literally a kid why can’t people just leave him alone??

I don’t care if it was the prince in the tape or not, this guy is hot

The way he said that people are making up theories makes me think that it actually wasn’t the prince in the video

I feel bad for this guy, getting followed around like that must suck

Wilhelm scrolled through the captions and comments on the seemingly endless posts of the video of Simon, feeling like somebody had a vice grip on his heart.

The first time he saw the video had been right after Christmas Eve dinner. He’d had a full blown panic attack and locked himself in the bathroom for half an hour. When he came out, his mother had tried to talk to him about the politics of the situation and he had immediately retreated into his bedroom once again. He missed Erik desperately.

He hadn’t been able to sleep, he'd only gotten about three hours of broken, fitful sleep all night, and now he couldn’t pry himself away from his phone. He knew that it was bad for him, he knew that it was making him feel terrible, but he wanted to know what people were saying.

He had been hesitant to text Simon, especially since he hadn’t received a reply to the merry Christmas text that he had sent in the morning, but in the end he mustered the courage to reach out. He had asked how Simon was doing and apologised for getting him into this situation. He wasn’t surprised when no answer came.

Christmas day was proving to be probably the worst day of Christmas break for Wilhelm. His chest felt like it was bursting open and like it was an empty chasm at the same time. He didn’t eat breakfast or lunch, he didn’t respond to the knocks that came at his door. He felt like he was trapped in a glass box and someone was shaking it.

Wilhelm didn’t know how long he had been scrolling through multiple different social media platforms when his phone buzzed in his hand and an incoming call appeared on the screen. He faltered, sitting up and almost dropping his phone, when he saw that it was Simon. He ran a nervous hand through his hair as he raised the phone to his ear.

“Simon?” He croaked.

“Hi, Wilhelm.” The reply came through the phone, and Wilhelm felt his shoulders relax at the sound of Simon’s voice.

“Hi. H-how are you.” He fumbled, and Simon sighed on the other end.

“I’m okay, I guess. As okay as I can be after... well, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry for putting you in this situation.”

“This wasn’t your fault, Wille.” Simon muttered. “I just wish things were different.”

“Why, um... why did you call?” Wilhelm asked. There was a short stretch of silence that rung in his ears before Simon answered.

“I just wanted to hear your voice, I guess.” He confessed, and Wilhelm couldn’t help the soft smile that pulled at his lips. “Honestly, I was kind of surprised that you didn’t delete my number or something.”

“Why would I have done that?”

“I don’t know, I guess I just thought that you weren’t supposed to have any ties with me since you said that it wasn’t you in the video.” Wilhelm winced at that.

“It's not like my contacts list is available to the public.” He replied, trying to keep his tone light. “I’m not gonna let that kind of thing get in my head again.”

“Is your mum mad?” Simon asked, and now it was Wilhelm’s turn to sigh.

“I’m not sure, I kind of shut myself in my room so that I wouldn’t have to deal with her.” He answered tiredly. “How is your family?”

“Uh, shaken. Sara’s off in her own world with her sketchbooks and mamá can’t go for more than an hour without checking on us both, but we’re handling it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise.”

There was a silence again. Wilhelm ran his hand across his leg, back and forth in a soothing motion, not sure what he should say but not wanting the conversation to finish. In the end, Simon spoke first.

“Did you mean it, what you said before you left for the break?” He asked softly.

“Yeah, I did.” Wilhelm answered without hesitation. “I know it wasn’t a good time to say it, and you probably didn’t want to hear it, but I just had to say it out loud. At least once.”

Silence again. Wilhelm heard Simon sigh, and pursed his lips nervously.

“I miss you.” Simon said.

“I miss you too.” Wilhelm replied with a nervous yet relieved chuckle. “I miss you a lot.”

Another pause.

“Where do we go from here, Wille?” Simon whispered.

“I don’t know.” Wilhelm mumbled. “But I... I want to fix this. Or at least just try to fix it. You don’t deserve to be harassed like this, and it’s my fault and I feel terrible.”

“It’s not your fault.” Simon reassured with a sigh. “It was everything else. We still didn’t do anything wrong, and that includes you.”

“No, I did. I promised we would be in this together and I broke that promise.”

“I understand why you did it. And I’m not mad at you. Honestly, having thought about it, you probably made the best decision for my sake too. I mean, I’m getting harassed enough as it is already. I can’t imagine what it would be like if you had told the truth.”

“I’m still sorry anyway.” Wilhelm said softly, and Simon chuckled. “So, um, Felice told me she was visiting Bjärstad tomorrow.”

“Yeah, her and Sara have gotten close. It’s nice, you know, that Sara’s made friends. And Felice is cool.”

“Yeah, she’s great.”

There was silence again, and Wilhelm bit at his nails thinking that Simon was done with the conversation.

“Are you alright, Wille?” Simon asked after a while. “I know this is your first Christmas without Erik, and I guess things with your mum might be a little... well, I just hope you’re okay.”

Wilhelm swallowed. He could lie, pretend he was fine and wave away Simon’s concerns, but he knew the lie probably wouldn’t hold up. Or he could tell the truth and admit how painfully lonely he was, how much he hated being home because the palace felt empty without Erik and how much he longed to be with Simon with every fibre of his being.

“I’m coping.” He sighed, settling for a middle ground of vagueness. “It’s lonely here. The ceilings feel too high.”

“Have you had stuff to do?”

“No, not really. I haven’t really been in the mood for Christmas, but I guess none of us are particularly festive this year anyway.”

“Would you - I mean, if you would even be allowed to, but maybe if you could – would you want to come down here for a day?” Simon asked, and Wilhelm could just picture him fidgeting nervously as he stumbled over his words. The image brought a smile to his face.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He answered softly. “I’ll try and convince my parents.”

+ + +

Going to Simon’s house had been an absolute no go with his parents. “Just too risky” his mother had said. However, with enough persistence, he managed to wear them down to a compromise.

That was how he ended up in a car on his way back to Hillerska the day after Boxing Day. While Simon’s house had been absolutely off the table, it would be easy enough to get back to Hillerska without being seen. The only people who were there during the break were security and the people who came to take care of the horses.

He had been worried at first that the inconvenience of it would make Simon not want to bother, but when he texted to ask if it was okay he had been met with a quick agreement.

A security guard unlocked the door for him when they arrived, sworn to secrecy of course, and he headed up to his room to wait. He didn’t realise he was biting his nails until there was a knock at the door and he was knocked out of his anxious thoughts.

The door opened slowly, and Wilhelm felt like all of the air was knocked out of his body when he saw Simon step inside, dressed in his beloved purple hoodie under the coat that he took off and draped over the back of a chair that was within reach. The door clicked shut behind him, and silence hung in the air.

“Hey.” Simon greeted finally, and Wilhelm took a deep breath as if he was just remembering how to breathe at all.

“Hey.” He echoed. “How are you?”

“Better.” Simon nodded. “Did you get into a fight with your parents?”

“Yeah, kinda.” Wilhelm muttered. “It’s fine though.”

Simon crossed the room and took a seat beside Wilhelm on the edge of the bed, a good few inches of space between them. It felt like miles.

“You look tired.” Simon commented.

“I’ve been having a hard time sleeping.” Wilhelm replied weakly, eyes downcast, fidgeting with his hands. “I get that way sometimes. It’s fine.”

“Is it?”

He looked over to find Simon watching him, and he practically crumbled under his gaze. He took a very unsteady breath and shook his head.

“No, it sucks.” He mumbled. His hand drifted back up to his mouth and he gnawed on the nail of his thumb nervously.

“Wille, you’re bleeding.” Simon said, gently grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away from his mouth. Wilhelm looked down at his thumb and saw a bit of blood pooling in the side of the nailbed, becoming aware of the taste of it on his tongue.

“Oh, I didn’t notice.”

“How much have you been biting your nails?” Simon questioned, pulling Wilhelm’s hand towards him to get a look at them. Every nail was jagged and uneven, bitten down to stubs. The skin around them had been bitten at too.

“I don’t know, I do it without realising.” Wilhelm shrugged. “Probably a lot.” He resisted the urge to curl his fingers around Simon’s hand and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall.

“You shouldn’t have to bottle everything in, you’re destroying yourself.” Simon murmured.

“I don’t have anyone to talk to.” Wilhelm’s voice broke halfway through his sentence, a single tear managing to fight its way from his eye. “I used to be able to talk to Erik about at least some of it but now he’s gone and I don’t have anyone, and sometimes it feels like the ground is falling out from under me and I just don’t know what to do.”

He didn’t notice that he was hyperventilating until Simon pulled him into his arms. Wilhelm’s chest was tight, rising and falling rapidly against Simon’s body. Simon's arms were wrapped around him tightly, and Wilhelm was suddenly overwhelmed with how much he had been craving a hug as his hands grasped at the back of Simon’s hoodie and he hid his face in the crook of Simon’s neck.

Wilhelm had always been told not to cry. Ever since he was a child, whenever he began to cry he was told to stop. The seed had planted itself in him when he was very young, but the fear of letting himself cry didn’t truly grow until he once saw an article in a tabloid. He was barely eleven and he had fallen and hurt himself at an event. He had hardly cried, just a few tears and red cheeks, but the tabloid had had plenty to say about it. He hadn’t let himself properly cry since, except for when Erik died. Even then, he had waited until he was completely alone before he let his weakness show. But now, with Simon, he felt an overwhelming need to let his tears fall.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered into Simon’s shoulder. He could feel the tears coming out of his eyes but they weren’t falling down his face, instead absorbing into the fabric of Simon’s hoodie.

“It’s okay.” Simon soothed, a hand moving up to stroke over the Wilhelm’s hair.

“I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to be a prince.”

“I know.”

“I just wanted to feel normal. Just for once.” Wilhelm said through his tears. “You made me feel normal.”

Simon furrowed his eyebrows, sympathetic. He loosened his hold on Wilhelm and leaned back, sliding the hand that was on the back of Wilhelm’s head forward to rest against his cheek.

“You made me feel normal too.” He replied softly. “At school I was a social outcast because I’m not rich, and at home I have to take care of my mom and Sara. When I was with you, I didn’t feel like I had to take care of anyone or watch where I was stepping. Well, except that one night.” Wilhelm huffed a slight laugh at the comment, lifting a hand to wipe the tears off of his cheeks. “I’ve never seen you cry before.” Simon commented.

“I’m not supposed to.” Wilhelm replied with an awkward chuckle, his head tipping forward in embarrassment. Simon sighed through his nose and lightly touched his forehead to Wilhelm’s.

“You have to cry sometimes, Wille. Everyone cries.”

“I’m not supposed to be everyone.”

“Okay, but sometimes you need to stop worrying about what you’re supposed to be.” Simon told him. “I know you know that.”

Wilhelm took a deep breath. This close to Simon’s face, he could feel his breathing too. He wanted to kiss him, but he didn’t know if that would be okay. He nodded slightly, covering Simon’s hand on his cheek with his own.

“Yeah.” He breathed.

When Simon leaned forward and connected their lips Wilhelm responded automatically, though it took his brain a few seconds to catch up. Once his brain did catch up, his hand took hold of the back of Simon’s neck and pulled him impossibly closer, holding onto this moment like it was his last. Maybe it would be the last time he got to kiss Simon; he couldn’t know. He hoped it wouldn’t be.

“Thanks for coming to see me.” Simon said when they broke apart.

“Thanks for wanting to see me at all.” Wilhelm replied. “I really missed you.”

Simon hummed, a faint smile playing at his lips. He watched Wilhelm for a few moments before kicking off his shoes.

“Come here.” He said, shuffling over the bed towards the wall. Wilhelm followed suit and allowed himself to be guided down to a lying position, Simon’s chest against his back and arm around his waist. “You need to sleep.”

“It’s the middle of the day.” Wilhelm protested, weak as the protest may have been.

“People have naps all the time, and you know that you need it.” Simon said firmly, adjusting the pillow under his head with his free arm and finding Wilhelm's hand to hold in the other. “It doesn’t have to be for long, okay?”

“Okay.” Wilhelm nodded, feeling suddenly very relaxed. He took a deep breath settling into the comfort and warmth of Simon’s body around his as his eyes fell shut. “This is nice.” He mumbled after a while.

“Yeah.” Simon agreed softly. “Go to sleep, Wille.”

It wasn’t long until he felt Wilhelm’s breathing change, signifying that he had fallen asleep. He smiled, fondly but with an edge of sadness to it, and pressed a light kiss to Wilhelm’s shoulder before closing his own eyes. They would deal with the rest of the world when they woke up.