#rainy season's blossom

[decemberblue]

Early spring; everything feels vibrant and alive.

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Rainy Season

Azriel x Reader

An angsty little one shot. Azriel’s mate is tired of being at the bottom of his list of priorities.

Update: Due to popular demand, this is being made into a series!

Part 2

The air’s getting heavy and we both know why

There was a time when an evening like this brought solace to my weary soul.

Azriel’s hand wrapped around my waist, caressing my stomach, pressing soft kisses to the juncture of my neck and shoulder. His hair tickling against my sensitive skin as we hid under blankets absorbing the incessant melody of drip, drop, drip, drop and the echoing pitter patter of rain drops hitting the roof. His warmth seeping right through to the coldest depths of my soul.

I’d turn around, pressing my bare breasts against his muscled chest. Our breath hitching as his sunburst eyes of brown, amber, and gold bore into mine, his soft lips whispering promises of forever.

Say that this storm is just passing through

But Azriel wasn’t here. He hadn’t been for 6 days, 23 hours, and 50 minutes now. It would have been laughable, comparing the past to now, if it weren’t so damned sad. In the beginning there’d been long, doting love notes with risqué quips regarding his intentions upon coming home, little gifts that he couldn’t resist bringing back from his travels, and the stolen hours where he’d sneak in a visit during the intermittent downtime on his missions. As a realist, I knew that it was not sustainable long-term but relished in it as the gift it was. Newly formed, passionate love that exceeded anything I had ever imagined upon finding my cauldron-blessed mate.

As the years went on I understood when the love notes became briefs and the thoughtful gifts became pecks on the cheek as he hurried through the door to exchange his leathers for clean ones, wipe down his weapons, and rest before his next mission. But time went on, as is inevitable, and distant were the memories of stolen moments away from missions, the desperate caress of his hands roaming my body as if he couldn’t quite believe I was fully corporeal before him - needing to touch me to reassure him that this was real. Now the touches were detached, perfunctory, another task on his never-ending to-do list.

Drop after drop we’re destroying this house and eachother.

The boiling point had been simmering for a while, left on the fire with reassurances of “Things are just busy right now”, “It’ll slow down soon”, “I would stay if I could, love. You know I would. I have no choice.”

But we both knew all too well that there was always a choice. There were times when Rhys let it slip that Azriel had volunteered for missions that his other spies were perfectly suited for, times when all I wanted in the world was to be curled up and listening to the rain with my mate.

Missions became tasks with the Valkyries, “chaperoning” Cassian and Nesta, and emotionally supporting the lovely doe-eyed fawn - Elain - who was the delicate cherry blossom of spring opposite of my wild summertime storm.

It wasn’t her fault. The trauma inflicted upon her, the loss of autonomy that came with being thrown into the cauldron and having her mortality stripped away without her say. The powers she never asked for overwhelming her senses. Hell, maybe it wasn’t Azriel’s fault for responding to the traumas of his past and the need to overcompensate for every ounce of blood he’s drawn by saving anything and everything that needed rescuing.

The problem lay with the fact that where Elain is a “seer”, my ability to “sense” when things are amiss was strong and Azriel’s intentions with her were becoming blurred. Feelings of lust had become more frequent down the bond along with flutters of joy and adoration. When it began I thought maybe things would look up in our relationship - he was missing me, fisting his cock to fantasies of taking me over and over when he returned home - but he only became more distant. He’d return more often than not smelling of jasmine and honey. The strength of the scent coating him correlating with the increase in enamored feelings slipping through the bond.

Six days ago when I’d asked him to skip out on training with Cassian and Nesta and whatever it was he and Elain would do - that was when the thunder clapped and the sky opened. “I can’t just stay home and cater to you all the time. I have duties to this court. Why can’t you find a hobby to occupy your time? Nesta reads and trains with the Valkyries, Feyre paints, Elain gardens and she evens bakes! Why can’t you be more like-“

He caught himself too late, immediately reaching out to place a gentle hand on my shoulder and apologize but it was too late for that.

Please, make it stop

It wasn’t that I wasn’t a forgiving or understanding person. i appreciated his dedication to his court and family and those in need but…

“Why can’t I be more like what? You can stop mid-sentence but you already said it all.” I looked down, shaking my head as silver lined my eyes. Gods, I hate that I’m an angry crier. “You want to know why I can’t be more like Elain in your eyes, Azriel? Because I exist in your fucking blind spot! I have been helping Feyre AT the studio, volunteering at a food pantry in Velaris, and teaching self-defense classes to women and children at the park but you wouldn’t know because you never ask me what I’ve been up to while you’re gone.”

He started to speak but I wasn’t finished. “The reason I cannot be more like Elain, or Feyre, or Nesta is because I’m none of them. I am ME. And you know what? I like me. I don’t want to be anybody else.” Trying and failing miserably to hold my head high I pathetically fell to my knees, shuddering as tears of rage flowed freely.

Warmth enveloped me as Azriel knelt down to soothe my quaking form. I let him if only because I didn’t have the composure to tell him otherwise as he began pressing kisses to my forehead. “I’m so sorry. I have been a terrible mate. I love all that you are- I- I’ll stop with Elain. She’s doing much better and Nuala and Cerridwen can keep an eye on her, so can Rhys and Cassian, and her sisters. It will be okay.”

That consolation attempt only drove the blade of bitterness deeper into my heart. Elain had so many in her corner and who did I have anymore? My chronically absent mate? The family I left behind to move to Velaris with Azriel? There was nobody close by.

“I think you should leave.” I sobbed out.

Azriel ignored the shaky command, continuing to hold me. Fuck - is this what it took for him to notice me? Breaking my heart so he could stitch it back up again?

“Azriel.” I stated firmly.

He met my eyes.

“You should leave.”

His look grew puzzled. “I thought you wanted me to stay - to spend time together? Please, Y/N. Let me make this better.”

“I need space. Give me one week.”

“But-“

“One. Week.”

Azriel’s shoulders slumped, head hanging low for several minutes before realizing that my decision was firm.

“I love you.” He said before heading out the door.

——————

Like clockwork as 7 days, 0 hours, and 1 minute were up, the front door to our home opened and Azriel’s footsteps padded in behind me, my gaze remaining fixated on the rain falling outside the window. A lump formed in my throat as I avoided turning to meet his gaze.

So dance one more dance and tell one more lie.

Azriel stepped around me, wordlessly extending a hand, patiently waiting as I avoided his gaze a moment longer before taking it. His shadows began humming faintly, increasing their melody and reaching a crescendo as Azriel began dancing with me through the room.

Say that you love me even if it’s not true

I let myself melt into the warmth of his chest. The thick air remained heavy upon my soul but I could have this. I could let myself enjoy this moment.

We wordlessly danced through the room in the soft glow of the fae lights.

We made our way through the hall into our shared bed that had become so neglected.

“I love you, Y/N.” he murmured as he laid me down, stripped bare underneath him.

“I love you too, Azriel.”

——————

Wish I could just say it and words were enough to keep you from being the one giving up.

The middle of the night left me restless as he lay soundly asleep beside me. My senses tugged me toward his bag that he’d discarded at the entryway. I brought out his dirty clothes from the week only to be greeted with the fresh scent of jasmine and honey.

Like the sky letting go for no reason

I packed my essentials and voyaged out into the pouring rain. Its patter on my skin washing away the salty tears streaming down my face. Following my senses to where the love was true back to my Summer Court home, my family. As free as a summer storm.

It's just the rainy season.

—————————————

A/n - I know there are plenty of Azriel x Reader and Elain fics out there. It was rainy and dreary here yesterday and this song was in my head for the first time in like 10 years so…. I wrote this.

[muniimyg]

3: the favourite snacks // series m.list

note: ohhh... it's kinda cute here ;) how are we liking them? lmk ur thoughts! oc's moment to shine is coming soon !!!

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//

As usual, Jungkook interrupts your reading time. Before, it didn’t mean much. Before, he would quietly sit beside you and mind his own business until he got out of his mind bored. Then, he would bug you and you would have no choice but to put your book down. You didn't mind it before. Before, it was whatever.

However, the scene is different today.

Today, he ran to the library after his lecture and couldn’t find you. Disappointed, Jungkook turned his heels to head home… But as fate would have it; he found you along the way.

At the sight of you, right then and there, Jungkook decided that this was his favourite season. 

The season of you.

How could it not be when this… You… Are just so beautiful? As you sit on the grass, leaning against the tree trunk, the wind gently blows cherry blossom petals around you. It’s beautiful. It looks magical.. Like it was fake. I mean, it had to be right? You look so perfect. It looks like those made-up scenes in movies. Jungkook rubs his eyes to make sure it isn’t. This is real life. 

This is you. 

However, his dream-like state of mind is shaken awake when he approaches you, and you refuse to give him the time of day.

First, he stands in front of you and greets you warmly. You ignore him. Then, he sits down beside you and nudges you. Even though your body moves to his push, you still remain silent. Now, this is his last attempt before he loses his mind. 

Jungkook inches closer to you. You sit still, doing your best not to move away. You have to stay put. You have to stand your ground! But life gets 10 times more difficult because he smells so good. As he leans forward, he fixes your hair, and you're awestruck. He tucks your hair behind your ear, sending chills down your spine. You swear it’s just the cool breeze, but you know in your heart it’s him. 

He makes your heart race. 

He smells good.

He looks good, too.

It's no wonder your body betrays you. You squirm from his touch, unable to hold yourself still. It’s gentle and light—but it’s just so ticklish! As you react, Jungkook offers a smug smile. In return, you push his hand away and huff at him. 

“I’m not talking to you.”

Jungkook’s smile drops. 

“What? Why?” His mind spins with confusion. Meanwhile, you keep a straight face and go back to reading. “What did I do?”

Keeping your book up, you answer him without really answering him.

“You know what you did.”

Jungkook thinks for a moment. What could he have done? The last time he saw you was a few days ago. You two met up to have a quick study session together. It was the same routine! What could he have done wrong since then? Rather, what did he do wrong then?

“... I’m not really sure what I did wrong… Can I have a hint or something?” His tone is genuine and curious, making it harder for you to dish-out your anger.

So, you don’t respond.

Impatient and annoyed at your pettiness, he grabs your book and lowers it to see your face. 

Infuriated, you whine. “Hey! I’m reading—”

“—And I’m trying to talk to you.” Jungkook snaps. "Come on, ___. What's going on? Talk to me, please."

You glare at him, completely baffled at his audacity. Does he seriously think that he can play dumb? He can't. You won't let him.

“Well, I’m not talking to you.”

With an eyebrow raised, he speaks out his thoughts. “Why not? I don’t think I did anything wrong—”

“You lied to me!” You blurt. “You lied to me, and you know it. I looked so stupid!”

Jungkook’s throat feels dry. 

Lied to you?

About what?

He tries to run everything he has ever said to you back. He tries to remember everything from the moment you two first met to this very moment now… Every story he has ever said and every tiny side comment—yet, he can’t think of a time he was dishonest. He had no reason to lie to you! Talking to you is so easy because you’re such a good listener. If anything, talking to you has compelled him to be more honest… Jungkook reflects and concludes: no. He is not a liar. Besides, it’s not like he was hiding anything—

“You can skate,” you reveal. 

Jungkook blinks.

“Who told you?”

Fed up, you shove your book to Jungkook's chest. He lets it hit him and drop before reaching for your hands. Quickly, you swipe them away from him. No way is he holding your hand! Not after all the crap he just pulled.

Crossing your arms, you begin to confront him. “Yoongi and Jin were drinking last night. They called me and teased me about how dumb I was… How naive I was because you knew how to skate the entire time! I took the time to teach you how to skate because you kept falling—a-and to what? Find out you were pretending the entire time? W-why would you do that? Why would you lie to me?” 

Oh, it’s bad. 

It’s pathetically horrible how Jungkook is so into you right now.

It melts his heart how you could be this serious and hurt over this little fib. This has to be the cutest thing you could ever do… Be mad at him for wanting to hold your hand just because he was mischievous about it. 

He wants to laugh. He wants to tell you that you’re cute and the entire thing was just a stupid boy-coded play… But, considering how bruise-hearted you’re acting… Jungkook thinks twice about it. 

Then, he decides to give in and abide by your needs. 

Answers.

You want answers and answers is what he’ll give you. 

“First of all: you’re not dumb,” Jungkook reassures you. You make a sour face and shake your head at him.

Groaning, you tell him: “Yes, I am! I looked like a total idiot trying to teach you how to skate when you’re literally a hockey player—”

“Second, I’m not a hockey player,” he chuckles. 

With a half smile, you return: “Right… You’re just a liar.”

Okay. 

… He deserved that. 

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say or do… Honestly, what are you supposed to say or do? The issue is ridiculous but at the same time, he understands you feel deceived. So… now what? 

Honesty. 

“Okay… I admit it,” Jungkook sighs, accepting his defeat. “I lied to you about not knowing how to skate. I’m a liar. I’m sorry—”

“Ah ha!” you point your finger at him. Then, you poke his chest. “That's why I’m not talking to you—”

“But I’m apologizing—”

You shush him. “Doesn’t matter. At least, not right now. Like... Oh my goodness, Jungkook! I’m so embarrassed! It’s bad enough that—”

“—That I like you?” Jungkook interrupts you. You’re tongue-tied, unable to find words to deny or confirm. With shaky eyes, he does his best to look at you with the sincerest gaze. “I refuse to apologize for my feelings."

"It's not about your feelings—"

Jungkook plays smart. He's all in anyways. "Okay. Fine, it's not about my feelings. It's about yours, okay? ___, I’m sorry, okay? I just wanted to hold your hand… Is it that bad? Am I that awful for wanting to hold your hand?”

Slowly, you shake your head. You didn't meant to make him feel bad about his feelings for you! That wasn't the point. The point was... Well..

Oh, god.

What was the point again?

Your words beat your thoughts. “N-no… I just… I don’t understand why you didn’t just tell me.”

Jungkook looks at you softly, and it makes your heart stumble. Booping your nose, his lips curve into a smirk.

“It’s called flirting, dummy.”

“Hmph,” you pout, turning your face away from him. Under your breath, you mutter, “... So you’re calling me dumb too, huh?”

Jungkook panics. “W-what? No! That’s not what I—”

Without much thought, he grabs your hand and squeezes it. You turn to him, eyeing the way he’s holding your hand. You send him a look, and immediately, he drops your hand and puts it up in surrender. Then, he reaches for his backpack and unzips it. 

“Look! I know my apology doesn’t mean much to you right now, but it’s true. I am so sooo sorry, ___. I’ll deal with the guys. I’ll tell them to shut up and drop it. You’re not dumb—okay?” Jungkook digs inside his backpack and pulls out a plastic bag filled with various items. “Snacks! I was at the convenience store... Then, I suddenly thought of you. So, I bought your favourite snacks. Then I headed to the library but then you weren’t there… And now I’m here—a-and there’s so many! So many snacks, ___! There’s banana milk, some Yakult, and oh, I even bought that cup with the fancy ice—”

“... Is that pocky?” You shift, taking a small peek.

Jungkook’s eyes light up. He nods, shaking the bag in front of you. “Almond crush… Cos I have a crush on you—” You sit up and send him a warning look. Jungkook leans his body back and laughs. “Okay, okay, okay! Sorry! Almond crush is for me… The strawberry pocky is for you… Your favourite, cutie.”

Biting your bottom lip, you give in.

Your heart can refuse Jungkook, but it remains powerless against strawberry pocky. Jungkook takes out your strawberry pocky first. You’re drooling at this point… Before you can hold your hand out and ask for the pocky, Jungkook already opens it for you. When he successfully gets through the box and rips the wrapper, he offers the pocky to you as a peace offering. 

Unspoken, he knows he’s forgiven the minute you take it from his hands. 

Yet, he plays it safe. He waits for you to get a few bites in and for the smile on your face to appear. Once it does, he smiles cheekily at you. 

“Still mad at me?”

Between chews, you reply, “Let me think..."

"Whatever you need to do, my smart girl."

You shove a few more pieces of pocky in your mouth. After you chew and he laughs at you, you voice your decision.

"Nope... Not mad at you anymore. We’re good.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes as he reaches for the top of your head. He ruffles your hair and continues to laugh to himself… Perhaps, it wasn’t just about the lie. You were hangry. Mentally, he notes to always keep strawberry pocky in his bag. In case of future screw-ups or of hangry ___ moments. 

When he’s sure your mood has improved completely, he opens his pocky. 

You watch as he does so. Jungkook takes a bite out of his pocky stick and moans in approval. As he eats, he takes a moment to look out at the view of the rest of the field. Jungkook takes it all in. Other students are sitting on the grass, under the other cherry blossom trees, and even playing. It's a calm late afternoon, and he can't help but think about how much he likes this moment.

How the raspberry lemonade sky is peering over the horizon. How you're beside him. How cool the spring breeze is... It just feels so good to be with you.

“This is a nice spot!" He tells you. "I like the view. I like you—"

"You're ruining my peace," you complain. Shutting your eyes, you focus on the pocky. "But yeah, it's a nice spot. I found it while I had that whole week of avoiding you."

Jungkook laughs. "So I found your new hideout? Sorry, not sorry."

You shrug and point at the Yakult inside the bag. He digs in the bag and takes it out. Like the pocky, he prepares it before giving it to you. When he hands you the drink, you take a sip.

"Can this be our spot?"

You choke.

Jungkook's shoulders drop, finding it hilarious and also a little offending at the same time. Was it really this hard to flirt with you? Are you this childish? He never noticed.

It's annoying that his feelings only grow even more.

"Oh my god," he moves closer to you and pats your back. You take another sip to help relieve your throat. As you recover, he lectures you. "Fine. You can have this damn spot."

When he moves back to his spot, you sit and stare at him. Jungkook continues to eat his pocky. Moving on, he pushes the conversation forward.

"Ahh, I forgot how good this is. Almond is the best.” 

You tilt your head at him, wondering what it’s like to be completely wrong about a simple thing. It's like all your pressing thoughts dismissed themselves.

“Strawberry is better,” you claim. You say it rather simply. You say it honestly.

Jungkook copies your head tilt. 

“Strawberry is overhyped,” he argues with you. “Almond is more expensive. The ingredients are more worth it. It’s not just a fruit-flavored cream—”

You huff at him. “Strawberry is not overhyped! Just because it’s cheaper doesn’t mean it’s worth less—”

“Actually… It does.”

The anger that you had earlier? The one that went away? Yeah… It’s back. 

Fuming, you begin your rant. “Strawberry is classic. Almond was made because people got bored of chocolate, so they added almonds to trick people into thinking it was completely different… It's the same thing! Strawberry is an original flavour like—” As you explain, you put another stick in between your lips and suck on the cream. “Mhmm! It’s the best—”

Your words cut off. 

Not because Jungkook retaliates. 

Not because you’re chewing your pocky. 

No. 

It’s because Jungkook dips his head low and takes a bite out of the other end of your pocky stick. He pulls away rather quickly, but it happens… 

It happened. 

His lips brushed against yours. 

Oh my god. 

Jeon Jungkook kissed you! 

Wide-eyed, you pause for a second. Then, you panic. “W-what—”

“Mhmm.. I guess it’s okay,” Jungkook swallows his bite. “I think I still like—”

“Y-you kissed me!” you exclaim, bringing your hands to your lips. 

Jungkook blinks at you.

“No, I didn’t.”

“J-Jungkook," you breathe, “are you gaslighting me? You literally just kissed me!”

Your mind is spinning.

How the heck did that just happen? One second you’re defending strawberry pocky with your life, and the next… You feel more alive than ever. Jungkook has always been sneaky, but you never expected this. It was so innocent yet so mischievous—you have no words!

Perhaps, your inability to explain how you truly feel is what frustrates you and causes you to sound so naggy. 

On the other hand, Jungkook knew exactly what he was doing. He has no issues facing the repercussions. In his heart, he knows he’s just following it… So, why does it matter? This is him taking a chance. This is him… Winning. 

This is you folding. 

“___, that was not a kiss.” Jungkook reasons with you. “Why? Are you upset because you wanted it to be?"

No words. 

"It's okay to be disappointed," he adds. "I'm disappointed you don't want to share this spot with me. The library is boring as fuck so I don't really want it to be our spot, you know—"

“Y-you’ve got to be k-kidding me!” you cry. “Leave the library alone, you hater."

"... Okay?" Jungkook snickers. "You're greedy today. Do you always have to be right? Is that a thing I should know about you, future girlfriend?"

"Future what?" your eyes bulge. "O-okay, fine. Fine! You win. It wasn’t a kiss. It was horrible anyway. I expected more—”

Jungkook squints at you. “We didn’t even kiss, and you’re already accusing me of being a bad kisser? Damn, at least let me prove you wrong.”

Shaking your head profusely. “T-that’s not what I’m saying! I’m sure you’re an excellent kisser—in fact, I should brace myself, right? B-because you’re probably going to kiss me one of these day, and I’ll—”

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

You pause. 

“W-what?”

“You heard the question,” Jungkook inches closer to you. In your mind, your body stiffens… In reality, you’re melting. Your body slightly leans in towards him and Jungkook has to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Y-you already did.”

“You said it wasn't a kiss... Who's the liar now?"

You stay silent. Partly because you have no words and partly because you're afraid of what will happen if you don't speak.

Jungkook presses on. "You’re not answering my question…”

Silence.

Then, as he speaks again, you realize you're stuck either way… You’re too shy to actually say the words, but he will take your silence, and find the truth. Or... You can say it for yourself. So, okay.

Fine.

You give in.

“Y-you can do what you want. I just… I thought you already kissed me.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes at you for the second time this afternoon. “No, silly… If I kissed you, it would’ve been like this—”

Before you know it, it happens. 

It really happens. 

Soft, slow, and sweetly—Jeon Jungkook kisses you.

He kisses you under the cherry blossom tree with the raspberry lemonade sky above, and the spring breeze. He kisses you until you can't breathe, and your heart falls for him. Jungkook kisses you in your spot.

The spot.

Yours and his.

[art-by-wei]

It’s cherry blossom season now🌸, a rainy springtime☔️. Sanji stands there, smiling, ready to take you out and have some fun✨

Sanji is dressed in a kimono style that’s more feminine, just my personal preference 🫣

And this is a dtiys. To celebrate reaching 5000 followers on my Instagram 🙌

If you want to join me, you can find the rules and prizes in the link ✨

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[haunting-venus]

enter, sandman

↳ neteyam x fem!omatikaya!reader

content warnings | smut ( minors dni ), somnophilia, oral ( f ), praise and some dirty talk, desperate neteyam, masturbation ( m ), characters are aged up !

word count: 1886

notes | pretty light on the actual prompt but here is my first submission for romancing pandora ! day one — somnophilia, turned out pretty fluffy but who doesn’t love some pussywhipped neteyam, enjoy friends

na'vi dictionary | syil — meer deer ; olo’eyktan — male clan leader ; yawnetu — loved one / lover / beloved person ; tewng — loincloth

You and Neteyam had been circling each other your entire lives, opposing forces drawn to one another despite all your innate differences. You admired each other from afar for years, skirting looks and kind greetings eventually evolving into shared dinners and stolen touches beneath the eclipse.

It was new and terrifying, having the eyes of the future Olo’eyktan so filled with adoration and lust and hope whenever they laid on you.

When Neteyam finally approached you officially to ask for you to be his—in body, in soul, in life—you were sure the earth beneath you shook with the force of your love. You were euphoric, giddy with the prospect that the man you desired so fully from the time you were children wanted you as well.

Some questioned his choice, though it was always clear to you how well you fit in each other’s lives. You weren’t a skilled hunter or forager, but you had a kind heart and strong mind, making you perfect for teaching the younglings of the clan. Neteyam was a born warrior, a boy made of steel bones and gunpowder. Where he had to be strong and immovable, you could be adaptable and kind, giving each other a perfect balance in life.

Being bonded to Neteyam was a lot of pressure, no doubt. Some expected you to be perfect, while others criticized you for being weak, a never-ending pull at your heart. It was all easy to brush off when Neteyam’s strong hands caressed your shoulders.

It helped too that your chemistry grew indescribably as your relationship progressed. The two of you were crazy about each other, hardly capable of containing the heat and excitement you felt in your newly blossoming relationship.

His hand would often find your thigh throughout shared meals, inevitably ending with the two of you sneaking past the trees and with his head between your legs. You would visit him on his breaks from teaching, stealing kisses and teasing touches away from the eyes of the younger warriors. You were often teased by your friends about how you could not keep your hands from your betrothed for more than a minute.

It was part of what made the time apart so unbearably aching.

You knew he had to leave. The syil, a normally elusive creature, would be gathering for mating season in valleys a few days' ride away. The hunting party had been planned for weeks now, with Neteyam at its head. It was a great stride in showing the clan his leadership skills, the longest hunt beyond the village he would lead on his own. The reap of the hunt would be great, sustaining the clan through many days and providing countless pelts for the cold season ahead. 

It did little to stave the emptiness in your heart or between your legs.

It grew lonely at night, especially in the cold drizzles of the rainy season when the hearth fires fizzled. You tucked yourself beneath woven mats, huddling against the soft fibers for warmth as your body craved the solid weight of Neteyam behind you. After what felt like hours of restless turning and shivering, a lonely sleep crept over your mind.

A heated groan rouses you from your slumber.

Your fingers tighten along the edge of the woven mats, flung to the side to expose you to the night’s chill, cooling against your heated skin. Your hair sticks against the curve of your neck, wet with sweat. There was an insistent nudge between your legs and a weight at the bone of your hip, pressing you firmly into your sleeping mats.

Light of the eclipse shadows across your home, dimly illuminating Neteyam’s face where it lay nestled between your thighs. There was a flush high on his cheeks, pupils dilated to show only a thin ring of gold as he gazed upon you. A small moan rumbles across the sensitive flesh of your folds as he notices you blink awake.

“‘Teyam-what the, oh-” Sleep still reached at the edge of your consciousness, muddling your thoughts as an easy pleasure trickled through you. Your hips move before your mind catches up, rutting towards Neteyam’s wide tongue as you moan. You could hardly think clearly with Neteyam’s tongue on you when you were fully awake, now your brain felt completely like mush.

“I’m sorry, yawnetu, I could not wait. You looked so sweet-'' His voice was weak and breathy, and you vaguely noticed one hand snuck beneath his tewng to palm at his cock.

Fuck, he feels so good and so right between you, but when did he get here? When did this start? Great Mother, why did you like it? You could see him in your mind’s eye, tired and worn from the long hunting trek, overcome with such want for you that waking you barely crossed his mind. In your head, he was needy and wanting, thinking of nothing but how he couldn’t stand to be apart from the wet heat between your legs for another second. The thought made you indescribably hot, legs trembling at the voracious way he gripped your hips as he dipped his tongue down into your entrance.

Your tewng hangs half-off your left thigh, rumbled and glistening with either saliva or your juices. Neteyam’s lips are soft and wet, trailing lightly between your slick folds. You try to gather your thoughts between the jolts of pleasure, bringing one hand down to stroke across your lover’s head. “Y-you’re back early.”

“The rains were too heavy, left early.” His fingers massage the plush of your thighs, trailing back up to trace the line of glowing freckles across your stomach. You squirm at the feather-light touches, inching your hips back to his panting lips. “Haah-such a nice present waiting for me at home, yawnetu, all spread out and waiting. Did you miss me?”

“I-I did, I—shit ‘Teyam—missed your mouth, your cock, please.”

“I know, baby, I know, let me give it to you.” His mouth fell back on you, slow licks on the sensitive skin around your labia, skirting around your hole and dipping into the junction of your thigh before darting against your clit. He breathed heavily from his nose, inhaling your scent as your legs tightening around the sides of his head increased the throb in his cock.

Your moans increase as his wide shoulders bully your thighs further apart, tongue giving wide and strong strokes against your clit before sucking it between his shining lips. You can feel the heat growing and tightening at the base of your stomach, fluttering against the dip of his thumb into your cunt. 

The slick sounds of your arousal weave in between the wet sounds of his moans, hot and yearning as they vibrate through your clit and into your bones. You can vaguely hear the sound of him working his own cock, imagining the way the tip peeks between his thick fingers to leak onto himself as he devours you. He always looked so pretty when he worked himself over, eyes blown and pleading.

The movements of his tongue quicken with the pace of your whining moans, finally moving to rub firm circles over your clit that have you keening into his hot touch. Your fingers card through his braids, using the grip to keep his mouth firm against your mound. As if he had any plans of moving.

“That’s-fuck-feels good, baby, but-want your cock,” You mewl, fingers tightening around the back of his head. Your voice hitches with every labored breath, pussy clenching on emptiness with every beat of your racing heart and it’s been so long, your body craves for him.

“Just wait, yawnetu, soon. I-I need to taste you.” He mumbles the promise into your folds, gasping and panting into you with each tug at his cock. His face is near rutting into you, nose bumping at the top of your pussy and inhaling deep breaths of your sweat and slick. “Thought of it the w-whole time, just like this. Let me.” 

The deep breathiness of his voice has arousal shooting through you. You know neither of you will probably be awake long enough to see through on that promise, but it doesn’t really matter. It’s enough to have him here, now, delighting himself so fully with eating at you that it has him desperate and breathless. His moans rumble through you, whispering praises and encouragements into the wetness of your core as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Neteyam.” You have one hand on the back of his head, the other gripped tightly into the woven mats as pleasure begins to crest over you. “I-I’m gonna-”

“Yeah? Come on, yawnetu.” You swear you see a devilish grin at the corner of his lips before your eyes clench shut in pleasure. 

Your orgasm rolls through you with a gasping breath, legs tightening around Neteyam’s shoulders as pleasure runs wet and hot from deep in your stomach to every edge of your body. Neteyam groans against you when you tighten under him, tongue swirling softly against your clit until you’re twitching against him, voice heavy with pants of his name and begging him to just get over here already.

Neteyam’s hand is still gripping at the meat of your hip when you open your eyes, now merely inches from your face as he holds himself above you. His hand moves fast and tight on his hard cock, eyes hooded in pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty-haah-got me so close, baby.”

His deep blue skin is shining under the eclipse with perspiration and your slick, the little freckles over his cheeks and shoulders glimmering lightly. You let your eyes sleepily rove over his wide shoulders and muscled chest, taking in every inch of how fucking good he looks above you.

Your eyes are glassy with pleasure as you gaze up at him with wet lashes, each brush of him against you sending you twitching in sensitivity. “I want it on me, please Neteyam.”

His eyes are unfocused as he comes apart above you, ears twitching and mouth falling open in wet pants. He burrows his head into the crook of your neck as he gets close, licking feverishly at the junction of your neck, the wet head of his cock bumping against your belly.

You reach behind his head again, bringing his forehead to rest against yours, eyes drawn on his face as he groans with each stroke. Your fingers brush along his largest braid close to the skull before rubbing your thumb firmly against the base. His eyes roll slightly as he gasps into your mouth, hips spasming unevenly as his orgasm wracks through him. His hand tightens on your hip, tip of his cock rubbing against you as he empties himself onto you.

The heat in you is slow and lazy, something that will creep into your dreams to be dealt with in the morning. Your bones feel heavy with Neteyam’s heat cuddling up next to you, mind already fuzzy with edges of sleep.

Neteyam’s face is lax in pleasure, nuzzling into the side of your body and pulling you taut to him. You can already hear his breathing evening out with the beginnings of sleep as he mumbles into your hair. “Missed you, yawnetu.”

“Welcome home, ‘Teyam.”

tags | @tallulah477 ; @eywaite @neteyamsoare

[okay-j-hannah]

Part 4: Ollie's Catnip

Teen Wolf : Multishot

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word Count: 10.4k

Warnings: series rewrite, season 1 {aka 2011}, slow burn, friends to lovers, usual teen wolf levels of violence and gore, heart conditions, lightheadedness, an unwanted kiss, forced kiss, terror, near werewolf attack

Request: This just came from my own head 😊

Part 3: Blue Handprints

Part 4: Ollie's Catnip {You Are Here}

Part 5: Mieczyslaw

Monday had rolled around quicker than you were expecting. After a week of being sick and a weekend of hanging out with your friends, you want to get back to a regular schedule.

The deep claw marks imbedded in your shoulder were healed, but left puffy, red marks that would soon scar terribly. Seeing as you already had a surgical scar on your chest it wasn’t a big deal.

What was bothersome was that it started to ache. Like a bad knee on a rainy day, your shoulder was tweaking something awful. You were massaging it in your classroom as others began filing in for the infamous chemistry test.

A few friendly faces welcome you back and ask if you heard about the incident with the janitor and supposed serial killer.

You wave them off and wait for your friends to appear.

Allison walks in with Lydia, and they sit in front of you. “Hey, how are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Although I haven’t seen Scott since Wednesday so that’s another story.”

Lydia reapplies her lipstick and adjusts her necklaces, “We’ll conquer that bridge when we come to it. Remember, you don’t need him. He treated you badly and he has a lot of making up to do before you even suggest the thought of talking to him again.”

Your eyes widen ever so slightly, “That’s pretty harsh.”

“Just because you decide to hang with the dog toys on the side doesn’t mean you can’t support your girls in avoiding them!”

You look to Allison, “I haven’t told him anything besides that you’re hurt. And that you’re looking for an explanation. I won’t tell him anything more unless you want me to.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “No, that’s fine for now. I want him to stew in it for a while.”

“Oh trust me…” you flip your pencil between your fingers, “He’s been simmering in those thoughts all weekend. The poor boy is crushed.”

“As he should be,” Lydia flips her hair, confidence radiating off her. She would ace this test without batting an eyelash. “He’s the one that’s been miscommunicating and hiding things from you. You don’t need that kind of stress added to your life.”

You frown, eyeing the scribbles and carvings on your desktop. The boys were still hiding a number of things from you. The foggy trip to the forest on Saturday didn’t help much. But the drunken memory of Stiles kissing your hairline and making wolf jokes brought a smile to your face.

Wolf jokes… it was the full moon that night, wasn’t it?

You rub your left shoulder again as Stiles walks in to sit beside you. He waves to you and takes a passive stance in his seat – tapping his pencil in his hand and bouncing his leg like it was the pedal keeping his life support on.

He hadn’t spoken to you the rest of the weekend. Nothing about the drunkenness. Nothing about the flirty touches he kept initiating. Nothing about how those senior boys tried to take you away.

“How was your Sunday?” you finally try and say.

“Fine, I had to come up with an excuse why my dad had one less bottle in his liquor cabinet,” he watches the pencil flying around his fingers, “I had to convince him he had one too many drinks while trying to solve the current investigation.”

You nod slowly, “Has he done that before?”

“Yeah, so it wasn’t that hard for him to believe.” There was a rather sad smirk on his face as he says it. “Anyways, how’s the bump on your head? Rocks punch hard I hear.”

You laugh, “Thanks to your kiss it hasn’t bothered me at all.”

“You remember that?” he winces, trying to hide the pink blossoming across his nose. “You remember anything else?”

You wonder how much you want to embarrass him. “You certainly had some wandering hands…”

“Oh, god,” he drops his pencil and buries his head in his arms atop his desk. “I was hoping that wouldn’t come up.”

“It was just some harmless arm tickles,” you shrug, amused by his reaction. “And you helping me to the car. You know as far as being wasted goes, we weren’t blackout drunk. I remember everything pretty well.”

He takes a deep breath and rubs hard at his eyes, “I was worried sick all yesterday thinking you’d be mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad at you?” you laugh again, “We’re friends; I was leaning on Scott and holding onto his ankle most of the night. Friends are allowed to be close.”

“Yeah, but you told me how you like Andrew and I was worried that you’d be upset about me doing what I did when you were probably hoping that it was Andrew that was doing what I did because you want to go on a date with him… and I wasn’t sure how you felt about me being close when you weren’t in some kind of distress from your heart because so far the only times I’ve touched you has been when you were about to faint or your heart is racing or you just went through a traumatic ordeal, and seeing as being drunk and having a breakup bonfire with your friends is none of those things… I thought maybe you’d be mad at me for, you know… touching you.”

His eyes were boring into his desk, leg back to bouncing like his life depended on it. You were smiling a sweet smile. He was so adorably endearing.

You wait until you see the honey of his eyes before saying, “I’m not mad, Stiles.”

He looks to you as if waiting for a long-winded reply like his, but he settles back into his desk and whispers, “Okay.”

“I would tell you if I didn’t like how you were touching me.”

He whips his head to you again, expression open and pink as he lingers on your warm gaze and soft smile. His throat bobs as Scott enters the room and makes awkward eye contact with Allison.

He sits on Stiles’ other side, giving him a blank nod as a hello. You lean forward and put a hand on Allison’s shoulder as a little silent support.

Mr. Harris starts class right after. “You have 45 minutes to complete the test. 25% of your grade can be earned right now simply by writing your name on the cover of the blue book. However, as happens every year, one of you will inexplicably fail to put your name on the cover, and I’ll be left yet again questioning my decision to ever become a teacher.”

You finish writing your name, peeking to see Stiles doing the same in a much more frantic manner. You share a smile with him as he finds your laughing gaze.

“So let’s get the disappointment over with. Begin.” Mr. Harris starts his stopwatch and the class simultaneously open their testing booklets.

You’re quick to start answering the first multiple choice question. Being someone that spends a lot of time at home, your study habits are perfection. It was a breeze knowing the answers to the entire first page.

As you flip to the backside, you notice Allison sending looks toward Scott. You follow her gaze and notice your friend having a strange, tweaky reaction to different things in the room. He kept jerking his head in different directions and squeezing his eyes shut as if to stop them from seeing something.

You share concern with Allison as you wonder what is ailing him.

Less than a minute later Scott was running out of the classroom with his backpack. Stiles was quick to follow him soon after.

“Mr. McCall!” Mr. Harris yells from his desk, “Mr. Stilinski!”

You probably would’ve followed too if Mr. Harris wasn’t currently giving a lecture about teenage delinquents and how that was a record for disappointment during an end-of-term test. But Stiles was out there with him – he probably didn’t want more attention than that. Scott was already hurting enough.

You attempt to continue the test and take deep breaths to control the random spikes in your heartbeat. Nothing unusual.

~~~

Scott was dripping in the locker room showers, the only thing having calmed him down being the forgotten inhaler in his backpack. Stiles stood back, consoling him on the panic attack.

“I looked at her, and it was like someone hit me in the ribs with a hammer.”

Stiles bites his lip, “Yeah, it’s called heartbreak. About two billion songs written about it.” And unrequited love, he thinks miserably.

Scott bangs his head against the tile wall, gripping his hair and trying to control his breathing, “I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Stiles mumbles, thoughts swaying towards you. “Well, you could think about this: her dad’s a werewolf hunter, and you’re a werewolf, so it was bound to become an issue.” He could feel you smacking him on the arm, “That wasn’t helpful.”

“You think any of that matters when I feel about her like I do?”

“Dude,” Stiles lolls his head around, “I mean, yeah you got dumped, and it’s supposed to suck.”

Scott hangs his head, rubbing at his ear as he recalls, “No, that’s not it. It was like I could feel everything in the room, everyone else’s emotions. Anxiety, nerves, hunger…”

“That’ll be the test.”

“There was something warm, like love and a feeling like someone was going to be sick.”

Stiles perks up, “Who was the one feeling love?”

“It’s hard to pinpoint it,” Scott winces, “Maybe the extra heartbreak I’m feeling is because I was feeling it from Allison?”

“It’s got to be the full moon,” Stiles shrugs, “So we’ll lock you up in your room later just like we planned. That way the Alpha, who is your boss, can’t get to you, either.”

“I think we need to do a lot more than lock me in my room.” Something changes in Scott’s eyes. He stands with a new kind of assertiveness.

Stiles starts to ramble as per usual, “What, you mean because if you get out, you’d be caught by hunters?”

“No. Because if I get out, I think I might kill someone.”

“Shit,” Stiles mumbles, screwing up his face and folding his arms. “Is this that whole the Alpha wants me to kill my old pack so I can be a part of his bullshit?” He backs away from the menacing gleam now in Scott’s face. “We’re not going to let that happen. The Alpha has already targeted each of us. I’m not going to let him sway you into doing it yourself.”

“I wonder who will be the first.”

Stiles does not like the condemning tone to his voice as he says that.

~~~

You were heading to the library after school, keeping your backpack on your right shoulder. Consoling your two heartbroken friends and avoiding the hostility between Lydia and Jackson had given you a different type of exhaustion.

But nothing a healthy dose of scientific research for your chemistry project couldn’t fix.

Having memorized the layout of the library, you knew where to look for microbial research. You select a textbook and go to the front desk to check out a school Chromebook – which happened to be the latest donation for student use that year.

You were even more surprised when you went for the couches and tables. Stiles was sitting there doing his own kind of research.

“I thought you were taking care of Scott?”

Stiles seems just as surprised to see you. There was a frantic second where he tries to shuffle around his doodle pads and books. “Uh… yeah, he sort of got tired of me ‘yapping’ at him all day.” He has a funny side smile as he laughs.

“Breakups are hard,” you nod, sucking in your lips. “What are you doing here?” You lean across his table, trying to read his research upside down.

He gets fidgety again, scratching his head and making a low sound in his throat. “Nothing! Just a little hobby.”

“Wolves?” you ask, finally pulling one of his books towards you. “I didn’t know you had an interest in… wildlife.” You snicker as he yanks the book back.

“Ha ha, yeah very funny. I do just so happen to have an… interest… in w-wolves.”

You struggle to take him seriously, “And why wolves specifically?”

His throat bobs and his eyes wander for a second, “… because they say Derek is a serial killer. But you told me that the video store manager was killed by a wolf, not a human. So I’m sort of seeing if it’s possible all the murders were done by a rabid wolf and not a man… or a mountain lion.” He says it so quickly that you’re not sure if it’s his ADHD or him trying to cover his tracks.

You itch to touch your left shoulder, “What have you found out?” You sit across from him and look eager – almost heartened that he was taking your eyewitness account so seriously.

He seems resistant for a second before losing the rigidness in his shoulders. He melts forward into the table as he speaks to you in a hushed voice. “I was looking at their hunting patterns. Wolves are very endurance based predators. They don’t need to sneak up on their prey or have the element of surprise. They’re willing to travel for miles until they find an opportunity to strike.”

“So once you’re a target you’re pretty much screwed,” you smirk – but you’re unnerved at the fact Stiles wasn’t sharing your amusement.

“Right,” he plays around with his papers, “And they’re very smart with their targets. They use visual cues, their hearing, and scent to identify the perfect prey.”

You watch his speckled face as he explains, “What makes the perfect prey?”

His warm sappy eyes find yours, “They go for the weakest or sickest of the herd first.” His voice is almost solemn as he says it, “They seize the advantage in a hunt by going for a more vulnerable animal. They are smart enough to weigh their options for the peak outcome.”

“I didn’t know wolves were so clever.”

“Clever hunters,” Stiles scoffs. “And brutal killers. They don’t have the skillset to kill their victims quickly. Their prey usually die from shock or blood loss as the pack starts tearing them apart like a mob.”

You shiver unexpectedly, “Lovely research, Stiles. I’m going to have those recurring nightmares from the video store again.”

He was watching your amused face with something hollow. He looks sad… and worried. “Sorry, I’m being morbid.”

“It’s been a strange couple weeks,” you say, flipping through the index of your textbook, “While you’re here, do you want to meet about our science project?”

“The one that isn’t due for another month? Yeah, sure,” he finally smiles, warming up at your particular quirks.

You find the page on Escherichia coli. “Well, we’re going to need a few weeks to let the bacteria grow in the petri dishes.”

Stiles makes a face, “Bacteria?”

“I want to test some food handlers rules. There are many ways to cook and defrost different meats – how do we know which is the best to kill any unwanted bacteria?” You smile wide, “We plant some foodborne illness in meat, freeze it and defrost it in different ways before cooking it. We’ll swab them before and after cooking to see what bacteria grows.”

“What bacteria were you thinking?” Stiles folds his arms, stomach starting to feel a little queasy.

“E. coli,” you beam, “It’s a coliform bacterium that can cause food poisoning and diarrhea.”

Stiles swallows hard, “And you thought my research was lovely…”

“Come on, I know Mr. Harris would sign off on us getting some E. coli samples and we can conduct it in the lab. And after we can have steak for dinner.”

“I am not eating any kind of meat that you had stuffed full of a diarrhea bacteria!”

You laugh and miss the look of marveling in Stiles’ gaze. “Don’t you have lacrosse practice today?”

He watches you take notes with your pretty handwriting, completely forgetting about his research. “Yeah, actually. I have to hit the lockers in about ten minutes.”

“Hopefully that’ll be good for Scott,” you sigh, still giving most of your attention to your notes. “It might help him get some pent up feelings out.”

Stiles was very against that idea, pulling on his sleeves and starting to bounce his leg. “Maybe. Hey, speaking of Scott. When we were at the forest with him… there was something you said…”

“We both said a lot of things that night,” you snicker, “Kind of happens when you’re intoxicated.”

“No, it was something that I didn’t think much about until I remembered it the next morning,” he bows his head to try and get into your eyeline as you continue to write. “Can I ask you my personal question of the day?”

You laugh at the use of that question since you’ve become closer friends, “Sure, Stilinski.”

“You said you’ve never had anything past a situationship before,” he looks at your bright eyes with a slanted brow, “Because they get scared about you dying. What does that mean?”

There was a shiver in your eyes, but you remain steady, “I don’t know, Stiles – we were drunk. I probably just meant the inevitable. Everyone dies eventually.”

“Sure,” he says quietly, registering your evasiveness immediately. “Especially in this town.”

You shake your head, going back to your E. coli notes. “I almost wish it was the mountain lion, so we’d at least know it was dead and gone.” You flip the pages of your textbook, “I’m going to sit with Lydia today.”

“You’re going to watch?” he sounds lighthearted at that.

You smile, “Yeah, I want to support my boys. And, you know, Allison isn’t going to be there like usual.”

Stiles nods, staring at you longer than he should’ve. He couldn’t help admiring the natural rosiness to your cheeks when you weren’t sick.

“You worried about your heart?” he asks, starting to pack up his own research. “It’ll be loud and wild.”

“Maybe a little,” you say, “But everyone knows, and they can help if I feel faint.” You watch him stand from the table, “I’ll see you out on the field.”

~~~

Stiles was on a high. Scott was made captain, and he was now on the first line. Thank god for pinkeye.

“Are you not freaking out? I’m freaking out,” he has a stupid smile on his face, bouncing as he walks.

Scott was still brooding, “What’s the point? It’s just a stupid title. And I could practically smell the jealousy in there.”

“You’re still smelling everyone’s emotions?” Stiles stops them in the hallway, “Like from the test this morning?”

Scott is mumbling as he says, “Yeah, it’s like the full moon’s turned everything up to 10.”

Stiles, in his usual fidgety manner, awkwardly brings up, “Can you pick up on stuff like, I don’t know, desire?” He looks down the hall and his eyes warm into that sweet brown color.

It wasn’t registering in Scott, “What do you mean, desire?”

“Like… sexual desire.”

“Sexual desire?” Scott deadpans. He was dealing with a breakup and this guy has the audacity to ask him about sexual desires. His mind immediately pinpoints a moment when he and Allison were kissing on the bed. It made his blood boil.

Stiles was still talking around it, “Yeah, sexual desire. Lust, passion, arousal.”

After a huff of contempt, Scott peers down the hall and spots what Stiles is after. “From (Y/N)?”

Stiles looks toward the double doors at the end of the hall and gulps at your standing figure. You’re talking to Andrew and Danny, shocked at something they’re saying. You look towards the boys and wave, giving two big thumbs up. Apparently the lacrosse team had told you the big news about the recent promotions.

“What?” Stiles says quickly, waving back at you, “No, in a general, broad sense, can you determine sexual desire?”

Scott was experiencing a strange combination of anger and amusement, “From (Y/N) to you?”

“Fine, yes!” Stiles says louder than he means to, “From (Y/N) to me.” He bares his teeth a little in frustration, “Look, I need to know if I have a chance with this girl, okay.” He looks to you again to see Lydia appear to take you away. “I’ve been obsessing over her since getting back from winter break. She’s all I can think about!”

“Why don’t you just ask her? We’re all friends.”

Stiles twitches, “Well, to save myself utterly crushing humiliation. Thank you, Scott. I don’t want her pulling out the ‘I just see you as a friend’ line. I think I’d have to switch high schools.” He pulls on his uniform, “Please, can you just go up and ask if she likes me? See if her heartbeat rises…”

“Her heartbeat is always all over the place,” Scott rolls his eyes, “Hence the medical condition.”

“I don’t know,” Stiles grounds out, flailing his arms over his head, “See if pheromones come out or something!”

Scott turns on his heel and walks away, “Fine.”

Stiles is left in shock and pink tinging his cheeks, “I love you. I love you! You’re my best friend in the whole world.” He grips his lacrosse stick tight enough to hear the leather handle squeak.

At the end of the hall, talking with Lydia, you mutter something that sounds eerily like ‘Andrew.’ Scott didn’t let it bother him, “Hey, (Y/N), can we talk for a second?”

You play with your jacket, noticing the off color to his eyes before saying, “Yeah, of course.”

Lydia rolls her eyes, “I’ll save you a seat on the stands.” She flounces off smelling of heavenly perfume.

You lead Scott off to the nearest empty classroom, arms folded as you ask, “Are you okay?”

“I just needed to ask you something,” he says with his head bowed, sounding hurt as he continues, “Do you… do you know if Allison still likes me?”

You tilt your chin down, frowning slightly at the puppy-dog eyes he was giving you. “Of course she still likes you. I told you it was going to take a long time for her to get over you. That’s probably why she isn’t here cheering on her friends.”

“Friends…”

“I mean, yeah she’ll always like you as a friend,” you say sincerely, “I don’t think she could ever hate you.”

Scott wasn’t liking the answer. He was glowering again, all puppy-dog erased from his eyes. His hands were curling into fists as he says, “Just friends.”

You sound timid as you continue, “She doesn’t want any animosity between you, but yeah… maybe cooling off as just friends could ease the tension.”

He takes a step forward and the room feels three degrees colder, “You’re saying I should just forget all about my feelings for her?”

You take a sudden step back, your heart beginning to leap in your chest. Scott did not look like the friendly version of himself you had grown accustomed to. He was being dark and menacing, an edge to his voice that you did not like.

A hand going to your chest as it usually did to somehow contain your heartbeat, you say, “For the time being, maybe. Just see it as you’re taking a break. When you see her again…”

“Then I need to take my mind off of her somehow,” he says, creeping his way toward you – almost like he was stalking.

You were being backed into a wall, “Scott, are you okay? You seem a little off.” Your shoulders hit the wall, “You’re scaring me.”

He takes a long sniff and cocks his head to the side, “Scaring you a lot, actually.” He invades your personal space – to the point where you can feel the angry heat radiating off him. “Your heart is racing.”

You gulp and Scott eyes the pulse galloping in your neck. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to distract myself from the breakup. You said you would help me.” And his hands snap to your face, holding it in place as he crushes his lips to yours. He is stronger than you were expecting, pulling you to him with rigid arms.

You try to flail away, but Scott’s hands land on your upper arms, pining you between him and the wall. He kisses you hungrily – angrily – as he goes in for more and more. Your muffled cries of defiance are smothered in his mouth. It was bruising and intense, way more than you were ready for.

When he eventually pulls away you are quick to smack him across the face. Shoving at his solid form before running from the abandoned classroom. You sprint for the farthest restroom and find it empty.

You lean against a sink before looking in the mirror. Your hair was ratted in the back and the swollen red of your lips was a giveaway. You were just realizing you were crying when the alarm of your watch finally registered in your brain.

Your heart was still pounding in your chest and before long you’d be lightheaded.

It took nearly twenty minutes for you to calm down. Sitting on the dirty tiled floor, head between your knees, and tears running down your nose. You wonder what had gotten into Scott for him to take advantage of you like that.

Scott wasn’t that kind of guy, right?

You had received texts from both Lydia and Stiles before you made it outside. Lydia asking where you were and Stiles asking about your heart. He had gotten an alarm on his phone too.

Scott had told him it was because you were thinking about him… that you had confessed that you did, in fact, have a crush on Stiles too.

Lydia could see the closed, distraught look on your face as you climb the bleachers. “What happened? Have you been crying?” She touches the redness under your eyes.

You push her away, holding yourself and whispering, “I just had a moment. I’m fine.”

It wasn’t enough for Lydia, her manicured nails tilting your chin towards her, “Have you been kissing?!”

You rub at your lips, “Not by choice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks with a sudden lowered tone. The usual façade of the flirty popular spring fling queen was gone. “Did some guy…?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you whisper again, eyeing the field and rubbing up and down your arms. “Let’s just enjoy the game.”

Lydia was still staring at you, “(Y/N), we need to report this.”

“No, it was an accident,” you say defensively, “He didn’t mean to.”

“Who?”

“Noone, Lydia please,” you start to feel your eyes water again, “I promised Stiles I’d be here, and I don’t break those promises.”

A huff escapes Lydia, “That’s ridiculous. That idiot friend of yours would understand you leaving because somebody assaul…”

You hiss at her, “Stop! You’ll send my heart rate sky rocketing.”

She purses her lips, yanking her bag towards her and flushed with anger, “Fine. At least let me help hide the evidence. You don’t want anyone else questioning you.” She extracts a make-up wipe and a calming chapstick. “And then you’ll tell me what little bitch did this and we’ll set the dogs on him.”

You crack a tiny sad smile, “Thanks, Lydia.”

“We’ve got a whole lacrosse team that would be on your side.” She folds her arms and crosses her legs, tapping her floating foot in the air. “Jackson and Andrew would stand up for you.”

You watch Scott get pummeled to the ground, jumping back up like nothing happened. “I’m not sure I want the lacrosse team knowing.” Andrew stands as goalie, fending off all the incoming pitches. “I’m not even sure what happened.”

An overenthusiastic player in jersey #24 waves at you emphatically. He’s practically on his tiptoes as he grovels for your attention….

You know instantly that it’s Stiles.

You return his high energy with a small wave and in return his points to his chest, right above his heart, and gives you a thumbs up in question. He’s asking about your heartbeat.

After a second of appreciation, you give him a hesitant thumbs up before wrapping your arms around yourself again. Stiles grips his lacrosse stick nervously – Scott was going in for another try.

Only it ends with him clipping Andrew in the helmet, slamming him to the ground. You stand with Lydia, gasping at the sound of the impact. You’re fumbling down the bleacher stairs as everyone huddles around Andrew.

You hear Stiles’ voice as he confronts Scott. “Dude, what the hell are you doing?”

“What? He’s twice the size of me.”

“Yeah, but everybody likes Andrew. Now everybody’s gonna hate you.”

You speed across the grass, avoiding Stiles and Scott as he says, “I don’t care.” You catch his eyes and flinch away, skirting to the other side of the goalpost and to the fallen Andrew. He had a bloody nose but was probably safe from a concussion.

Stiles was stuck on the fact that you had flinched away from him and Scott. Why would you run away like that? He watches your crouching figure console Andrew, pushing your hair behind your ears.

There was still a redness to your eyes and a chapped swollenness to your mouth.

And Stiles was putting two and two together. He was slack jawed and turning to the retreating figure of Scott. Disbelief was the only way to describe what he was feeling.

Disbelief and full blown rage.

But he was more worried about you.

As they were carting Andrew away, along with most of the players and Lydia bickering with Jackson – you were left by the goalpost shaking and quiet.

He was gauging your response as he nears you. “(Y/N)?” He lifts a hand to your arm and you flinch out of his touch. It disappoints him – a punch to his gut. “What’s wrong?”

You gulp, avoiding his eyes, “Uh… it’s nothing. I’m just worried about Andrew.”

He frowns, tensing his jaw, “Did… Did something happen with Scott?”

You’re gripping your arms as you shake your head, “I told you it was nothing, Stiles. I j-just had a heart rate spike and I don’t feel so well.”

The evasiveness was getting to Stiles. He grinds his teeth, “(Y/N), I have a feeling your spike had something to do with Scott.” He wishes you would look at him, “Please, tell me the truth.”

Your eyes were starting to water, “Don’t make me say it, Stiles. I haven’t even processed what’s happened,” you run your fingers through your hair, blowing out a shaky breath, “I don’t want to think about it.”

God, he wants to touch you again. He wants to hold you. “I think I know,” he whispers, rage broiling in his veins. “That son of a bitch.”

You sniff, looking towards the sky to avoid letting the tears fall. It was stabbing a knife into Stiles’ heart.

“Lydia’s my ride home,” you say, your voice cracking, “I have to find her. I’m sure she’s still… fighting with Jackson.”

“No,” Stiles says instantly, “Absolutely not. I’ll drive you home. Just let me change real quick.” He starts stripping his uniform immediately, throwing his gloves with a little more force than was necessary.

You shove your hands in your pockets, still shaking regardless of how warm the spring afternoon was. “That’s kind of you Stiles, but…”

“If you say not to worry and walk away, I swear to god I’ll freak out,” he tosses his jersey and shoulder pads on the grass. “I see it as my privilege to escort you home. Please? It’ll make me feel better about leaving you knowing you’re safe.” His pleading made his eyes warm and syrupy. Your favorite shade of brown.

You reluctantly look at him with your red eyes – it seems to develop worrisome wrinkles in his forehead. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats, hopeful, “Okay. Let’s go.” He avoids touching you, much to his dismay, and leads the way to the parking lot.

“Don’t you need to put your stuff back in your locker?” you ask quietly.

“Nope,” he says frankly, “This is more important.” He walks beside you, giving you some distance.

You can’t help the smile that wants to appear, “Thank you.”

He holds open the jeep door for you and throws his stuff unceremoniously in the back. He’s racing out of the parking lot, tension evident in his shoulders as he sneaks quick looks at your cowering figure.

You’re huddled against the door, holding your arms again.

Stiles has his usual hand on the wheel and the other on the stick shift. His chest was tight and painful as he tries to think of something to say, “I’m not going to ask you if you’re okay again because I know you’re not. And I can tell you just want to sit and think but I got to admit it’s freaking impossible for me to sit still and be quiet. You’re scaring the hell out of me, and I just want to help. I just…” he moves the hand on the stick shift to the edge of your chair. “I want to make you feel better. I’m not good at this. I’m not good at much… except maybe talking when I’m nervous…”

You silently move your hand to Stiles’. He’s quick to grip your fingers and gasp a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank god,” he laughs awkwardly, “I can do this. Is this helping you feel better? If it is, you can hold my hand for as long as you need. I’ll hold your hand all night if that’s what it takes… I’ll hold your hand…”

“Stiles,” you say, quietly amused. “Please stop talking.”

“Sure,” he says, zipping his lip with his free hand. He mouths silently, “No more talking.”

The rest of the ride was quiet, except for the rumble of the engine and the incessant tapping of Stiles’ thumb against the steering wheel. He sometimes lifts your conjoined hands to change gears. Other times he subtly moves his thumb up your index finger, perhaps trying to be soothing.

You watch things fly past the window as you near your house. The shakiness of Stiles’ constantly moving hands was almost therapeutic. It distracts you to feel his fingers dance around your hand. You wipe at your eyes as the jeep stops in your driveway.

Stiles jumps out of the car and bangs his hip on the headlight as he runs for your side. He curses terribly and opens your door, “M’lady,” he pants in pain.

You slide out, tears smeared beneath your eyes as you say, “Thank you, Stiles.”

As he shuts the door you contemplate for about three seconds before going in for a hug.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders as you place your tearstained face near his neck. He returns the hug timidly, careful with how he’s touching you. He keeps his hands near your shoulder blades, at the top of your back.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m going to try and figure this out.”

Your sniffles cause him physical pain. “I’ll see you later.”

He waves you off, stewing in his new plan to contain Scott’s rabid werewolf side and to get his full revenge in payback for treating you like this.

~~~

After a nap and an ice pack for your swollen face and oncoming headache, you feel more clearheaded. Oliver, the gray cat, has his front paws perched on your knee, searching for more pats to the head.

“I just don’t get it,” you say, speaking to your cat as if he were your therapist. “I understand that he’s going through a breakup, but that doesn’t give him the right to act like a jackass.” You hold the icepack to your temples, “There must be something else going on – or maybe that’s just something Scott is capable of, and I didn’t see it.”

Oliver chirps at you, butting his head into your palm.

“I know, Ollie,” you say, “I don’t need anymore stress added to my life.”

With your mom helping dispatch with a call in the forest and your dad managing the firehouse that night, you were grateful to be home alone with your problems. It was a shame they had to work so much to maintain the debt from your medical bills.

But they never complained.

The moon was full and bright like a flashlight through your window. You thought about texting Allison but thought better of it.

You were, however, texting Lydia to keep away from filing a police report. You had no idea she was so invested in your care. She always seemed slightly aloof and as if her priorities were centered around high school popularity.

But maybe she had her own set of secrets like everyone else in this town.

You continue to talk with Oliver as the moon rises in the sky. It’s dark and chilly outside and you can hear the rustling of budding branches. It gives the night a strange ominous tone. It prompts you to the open window to peer at the darkness.

Oliver purrs and finds a spot at the foot of your bed to curl up.

The ache in your shoulder reappears as you gaze at the moon. “I think I need to go back to sleep.”

There was a sudden howl on the wind, loud enough that it sent a chill through your bones. You quickly slam the window shut, staring at your scared reflection in the glass. “You need to calm down, (Y/N).”

But there was something moving in the distance that caught your attention. Something fast and on all fours. Something animal… but…

You squint your eyes, pressing against the window to look past neighbor fences and thick growths of trees. There was some kind of creature running through yards and… straight towards your house.

The breath leaving your lungs was shallow as you realize – this thing was coming at you. You watch it reach your yard and stop. It stands and all you see are yellow eyes, sharp teeth, and a furry face.

You make eye contact with the creature and panic, gasping aloud as you back away. “Oh my god…”

Blood was pumping in your ears as you flounder. Where do you go? What do you do? You scramble to find something useful, a strange clawing coming from the walls below.

Where was your phone?

Your eyes dart to your bed and you pounce. Hands frantically searching beneath pillows and sheets, Ollie grumbles and jumps off the bed. Panting, you find the cellphone under your blanket, rolling off the mattress and running out of your room.

That thing knew you were in the bedroom.

There was a louder sound of clawing and splintering wood downstairs. The squeak of metal told you that the front door had swung open. The silence that follows makes you even more terrified. You thought something rabid was entering your house, but instead it was deadly quiet.

You cross the hallway and to your parents room, closing the door as quietly as possible. Speeding towards their ensuite bathroom, you lock yourself in. You think about your options – your parents? 911? Stiles? You don’t want to sound paranoid.

You decide to text your mom, “Are you coming home soon?” and then texting Stiles, “SOS.” You weren’t going to risk talking out loud if there was a tweaking madman entering the house in search of you.

There was the familiar creak of the squeaky floorboard in the hall that usually signaled that your parents were up and about. Whatever that thing was… it was moving past your room and further down the hall.

Your phone begins to buzz with a call from Stiles. You quickly decline, stopping the buzzing sound. You do the same with the next call he tries to make.

A steely cold burrows in your skin, ears trained for any sound coming from outside. You sit on the bathmat, holding your phone so it puts an eerie light across your face. Stiles resorts to texting you.

“I’m already on my way.”

“Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Why aren’t you picking up your phone?”

“I’m right down the street.”

You tap out a reply, your breath shaky against your knees as they’re pressed to your chest. “There’s something in my house.”

You hear something from your parents bedroom.

“Are you somewhere safe?” Stiles replies. “What is it?”

You move your thumbs quickly, “It’s right outside the door.”

Your phone continues to buzz with frantic replies from Stiles, but you’re preoccupied with the slow, terrifying turning of the doorknob. It squeaks metallically as it’s manipulated. And after a few tries the creature stops.

The door then rattles with a sudden roar of noise. Scraping hands bang against the wood, the panels straining under the force of whatever is on the other side. You scream as a howl penetrates your ears.

The same howl you heard outside your bedroom window.

Fear envelopes you as you scramble to the far wall, screwing up the bathmat and knocking the shampoo bottle off the side of the tub. You resort to dialing 911 as the door bends under the hands of the growling creature.

“(Y/N)!”

Another voice comes from downstairs and you’re afraid to reply, “Stiles!?”

Heavy footfalls are coming up the stairs as the creature hesitates in its assault on the door. You pull at the collar of your pajamas, choking on your breath as your heart fails to oxygenate your body.

The voice of Stiles is so near, you fear for his safety as the creature howls again. But what Stiles says puts you into more shock.

“Scott, calm down buddy. You don’t want to do this,” he sounds full of fear, “This isn’t you, man. Snap out of it!”

You gasp for breath, clawing at your own chest as your heart works in overtime. You can barely register the things you hear on the other side of the door.

A different growl was sounding and (what you hope isn’t) Scott turns toward it. Stiles was encouraging the action.

“Go after the howls, Scott. Go join your other werewolf friends! Get out of here!”

It turns into Stiles banging on the bathroom door – with much less force than whatever power Scott possessed.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N), open the door please. It’s just me – Scott left with Derek. I promise it’s safe now.” He must’ve checked his phone because now he was speaking with a new level of panic, “Hold on, (Y/N). Just try to breathe! Focus on your surroundings – ground yourself!”

He was jumping and searching for those emergency bathroom keys that were sometimes left on the molding above the door. Thankfully your parents never took chances and kept those keys there.

Stiles was cursing himself for fumbling the key in the lock, forcing it open. He fell to the floor with his momentum, slipping on the tile to get to you.

“Holy shit – oh my god. (Y/N), you need to breathe.” He kneels beside you and puts a hand over yours holding your chest, “Just take a breath, please.” Your lips were turning blue from the lack of oxygen. Your eyes were fluttering shut.

Stiles was rubbing your hand against your chest, wrapping his other arm around your shoulders and shaking you into him. “Stay with me, (Y/N). You can’t pass out while you’re not breathing.”

You gasp something shallow, but it was the first breath he hears you take, “That’s it… god.” He puts his head against yours, “You can do it, take another.”

He holds you as you start to take more shallow breaths, each getting stronger by the second. The darkness creeping into your star-spangled vision became clearer; and the tingling in your hands and feet lessen.

Stiles is whispering quiet praises to whatever power helps you breathe evenly again. He holds up your wrist and watches your heart rate lower out of danger.

You rest against his chest, your head laying against his collarbone. You sound out of breath as you say, “You have… explaining to do.”

He chuckles solemnly, your head bouncing against his chest, “Remember that thing that wasn’t exactly mine to tell?”

“Scott?”

“Yeah,” he says, “Something happened when we found Derek’s dead sister in the woods… Scott was bit.” He was grateful for not looking at your reaction, just holding you close as your heartbeat steadies. “He was bit by a werewolf.”

You weakly smack his arm, “Bullshit.”

“Not even a little bit. Our friend is a werewolf. And so is Derek,” he says, “That’s why Derek has been invading – he’s trying to help Scott take control.”

“I don’t believe you,” you say, still sounding out of breath. Your head was aching with the lack of oxygen.

Stiles takes a deep breath, making you rise and fall against him. “Derek isn’t the serial killer attacking everyone. All those kills were done by the Alpha – that’s the big bad wolf that bit Scott and is trying to make him a part of his pack.”

“An Alpha?” you want to laugh but know it would send you into a coughing fit.

“Yes, and on the full moon the Alpha has more control over Scott. The moon has been messing with him all day, which you witnessed firsthand.”

That gives you a shiver, forcing you up from the ground, gripping the bathtub for support.

“Woah,” Stiles gets up with you, hands hovering at your back, “Take it slow.”

“You’re telling me the reason Scott has been snapping at everyone and shoving his tongue down my throat is because of the full moon?”

“Shoves his what down your what?”

You stand straight and nearly blackout until you hold onto the glass shower door. “Where is he now?” You start stumbling out of the bathroom and towards your bedroom, the perfect view of the front yard.

Stiles slips on the tile to follow you, terrified you were going to fall again.

Looking out the window, bathed in moonlight, you spy two beings on the edge of the street – heading towards the forest. Glowing eyes, pointed ears, furry faces, and snarling fangs. They were disappearing into the night.

What you saw before the home invasion was real.

“Was Derek bitten by the Alpha too?”

“Uh… no,” Stiles says, looking at you like a bomb about to go off. He was waiting for the outrage. “He was born a werewolf. He just wants to kill the Alpha for killing his sister. Scott is his link.”

You flex your hands, getting the feeling back in your fingers, “You were already on your way when I texted you. How did you know I was in trouble?” You could hear the audible breath Stiles took, the sound of him scratching his shaved head.

“To make him a part of his pack, the Alpha wants Scott to get rid of his old pack. Me, Allison, Lydia and Jackson… and you.” He takes a pause, “I knew he’d go after one of us under the control of the full moon.”

“You were doing research on the hunting habits of wolves today,” you whisper as the memory appears, running your fingers through your hair.

Stiles tries to focus on how beautiful you look in the moonlight. Beautiful and alive. Thank god Derek showed up.

“You’re right. And I knew wolves take their time with their targets…”

“The weakest and sickest of the herd,” you whisper again. “He was wearing me down today. He cornered me and… it was like he could smell the fear on me.”

Stiles swallows hard, his hands balling into fists, “Yeah. He was making a plan who to pick off one at a time.”

You fold your arms, nodding thoughtfully, wishing the headache to go away. “As far as secrets go… that is one hell of one.”

Stiles wrings his hands, “Yeah, you can see why we don’t want to rope too many people into it.”

“Who knows?” you ask, still debating your options.

“Derek and myself,” he sighs, watching your closed off stance. “But who else knows about werewolves? The Argents do.”

Your brow furrows, still staring out the window, “Allison’s family?”

“Her parents and her Aunt Kate,” he nods, “They’re werewolf hunters. Have been for centuries and it’s part of the reason they moved here.”

“Allison?”

“As far as we know, she’s clueless about the whole thing. But now that she’s spending so much time at home because of the breakup… I think her aunt my have a little too much influence.”

Your fingers dig into your arms, “Interesting.”

Stiles lets the silence hit for a few seconds before inching towards you more, “Interesting?”

You feel the hurt start to creep into your chest. The kind of aching hurt that only comes from feeling betrayal and an overwhelmingness to hide. “I think you should go, Stiles.”

He stands straight, “What?”

Tilting your head over your shoulder, you mumble, “I’ve heard enough and I would like you to leave. My mom will be home soon.” You stay where you are, feeling in need of a long sleep. “I need time to process. I need time alone. Thank you for coming for me and telling me the truth, but I want to be by myself now.”

He bites his tongue, “Are you sure?”

“Goodnight, Stiles.”

“(Y/N), listen to me. It was scary at first for me too,” he sounds nervous, “I know it’s a shock, but…”

“Please leave, Stilinski. I won’t ask again.”

He huffs his frustration, “Okay, I get it. Will you at least tell me when your mom gets here? Just so I know you’re…”

“My mom is on the same dispatch call your dad is tonight. When he gets home you’ll know my mom is getting home too.”

It was quiet after that, Stiles taking a few steps back and grinding his teeth. He was almost out the door when he says, “I’m glad you’re safe, (Y/N).”

Minutes later you watch the blue jeep drive away. An hour later you’re still standing at the window, basking in the cool moonlight. Two hours later your mom enters the driveway.

And you’re finally able to step away and lower your arms – lightheaded from your locked knees.

“Oh, hello sweetie,” Angela says at the door, Ollie at her ankles. “Why are you still awake?”

You let the exhaustion show, “I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to wait until you got home.”

Your mom pouts, walking to you with open arms, “I could use a hug too.” You embrace and feel the knots of tension in her shoulders.

“Long call?”

Angela holds you back by the shoulders and inspects your tiresome complexion. “There were another couple deaths in the forest. It’s being ruled an accident for now, might’ve just fallen in a bonfire because they were drunk.”

“Died in a fire?” you say with a gruesome wince.

“Yep,” your mother sighs, “It was nice seeing your dad though. Fire department was called too.” She ponders your expression, “Why can’t you sleep?”

You lick your dry lips, “My heart has been all over the place. It’s hard to relax.”

Brows knitted, Angela puts a hand to the side of your face, “You feeling stressed at all?”

“You could say that. There’s been drama in the friend group.”

She nods and kisses your hairline, “I’ll make us some tea. Let me put my things away and we can hang out on the couch.” She’s satisfied with your small smile, leaving for her bedroom.

It was just dawning on you that she might see something when she yells…

“Hey, what are these claw marks in my bathroom door!?”

You rub harshly at your tired eyes, “Um… Ollie got into the catnip again?”

~~~

School had gotten strange the next week. It was already tense with Scott and Allison’s breakup, but now that you weren’t talking to the boys… it had felt very estranged. Both Scott and Stiles had tried to contact you, but you still need some time.

The bombshell of the things going on in Beacon Hills was a lot to take in.

It made your little secret seem minor in comparison.

You were sitting in the lunchroom, picking at your meal with your other friends. Jackson had been tense with Lydia the last few weeks and you could smell another breakup coming. His mild jackassery was starting to get on your nerves as he ignores you and the girls.

“He seriously started sending you pictures of you two together?” Lydia sneers, “What kind of move is that?”

“He’s trying to get back together with you,” you say a little melancholy.

Allison plays with her necklace, lost in thought, “It felt like he was trying to make me feel bad for breaking up with him.”

“He is completely clueless,” you sigh, “Most idiots in love are.”

Lydia squints her eyes at you suspiciously, “Speaking of idiots in love. Do you care to explain why you’re also ignoring dork #1 and dork #2?”

Your eyes momentarily shift across the cafeteria to where Scott and Stiles were eating. Stiles was shoving a chicken tender into his mouth with his usual amount of grace. The rest of his tray held macaroni and cheese… a painful memory of him telling you about the gourmet mac and cheese his mom used to make.

“Nothing just… some weird things happened.”

“Like dork #2 confessing his obvious feelings for you?” Lydia continues. “I don’t blame you for rejecting him. He’s a little weirdo.”

You snap your head to her, “You mean Stiles?”

“He’s been drooling over you since you started school,” Allison agrees, “Scott used to tell me about it.”

You shove your lunch tray away, “No! I wasn’t aware anyone was harboring any feelings for me.”

“Well, if we stick to that topic,” Lydia purses her lips, “Andrew Wickstrom is also a harborer of feelings.”

“And maybe two others on the lacrosse team,” Allison chuckles.

You shake your head, closing your eyes momentarily, “No, in fact Scott came onto me.” You rub at your temples, listening to Allison hold her breath.

“Excuse me?”

You look to her, sorrowful in how you say, “He cornered me and kissed me.”

“What!?”

“It was quick and only the one time. He said he was just trying to get his mind off you. I slapped him and everything,” you say with a little more urgency, “And obviously he’s super regretful because now he’s trying to get on your good side again.”

“What a little shit,” Lydia curses.

Allison was even more visibly upset than before, “I can’t believe that.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I didn’t want to tell you, but you deserve to know. Scott wasn’t himself that day. He’s been really wrecked.”

“That’s not a good enough excuse,” Allison mutters.

“Has he apologized at all?” Lydia asks with an edge of rage.

You shrug, “I haven’t exactly given him the chance to. That’s why I haven’t been talking to them.” You look to Allison with slanted brows, “I’m really sorry, Allison. I tried to make him stop.”

She shakes her head, snapping herself out of whatever fogginess had invaded her mind. “It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you.” She looks toward the boys before standing, “I need the bathroom.”

You nod, giving her space, instead watching Jackson stare down someone from across the cafeteria. Lydia was looking at him too with some semblance of impatience and frustration. In a nonchalant move, Jackson steals the green apple from your forgotten tray.

“How are you two?” you whisper to Lydia.

She scowls, “He’s been a little cozy with Allison if I’m being honest,” she picks a tomato from her salad. “We don’t talk much anymore, just the occasional make out and quickie in the car.”

You refrain from grimacing, “What is going on with everyone?”

“With spring comes all new drama,” she smiles derisively, “Springtime fever as they call it.”

Jackson suddenly stands and leaves them to gossip. Lydia follows him with her eyes, a moment of hurt flashing through them.

“I don’t think I can take much more drama,” you sigh with a fake smile, “My heart can’t take it.”

Lydia looks to you with genuine sympathy. You had grown to love the moments when she was real. “Then it’s a good thing we’re all taking a break. We’re the perfect girl squad. No boys allowed.”

You smile a little wider, “I’d like that.”

Your last period after lunch was gym, which usually consisted of you doing things for Coach since you had a doctor’s note banning you from raising your heart rate. While everyone was in the locker rooms changing, you talk with Finstock.

“I don’t care what they do today, Westbrook,” he groans, his whistle swinging around his neck, “I’m too busy drawing up plays for the game tonight. Bring out the basketballs and jump ropes and freaking hopscotch, I don’t care. Hell, let them use the pools to swim laps.” He scratches at his crazed hair, “Just make them do something for the period – and don’t come looking for me. Thanks, Westbrook.”

You blow out a whistled sigh, “No problem, Coach.” You roll out the cart of basketballs and volleyballs, a couple jump ropes dangling on the side. Your classmates start to trickle out in their gym attire.

Using your loudest voice you announce it was going to be a free workout period – they’re free to use the pools or the gym as long as they’re engaging in a sport of some kind.

Allison voices her wish to swim and Jackson is quick to agree, leading the way back to the lockers. Scott doesn’t say a word, just mindlessly follows them at a distance.

You watch many hands go for the gym equipment, a basketball falling to the floor. You catch it as it tries to bounce away.

“Hey, Westbrook!”

You look up to see Andrew holding his hands up for the ball. A smile on your lips, you pass the ball, pleased it lands right in his hands.

“How are you?” he asks, walking up to you. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

You push some hair behind your ear, “Oh, just some post sickness keeping me away. I’m all good now.” You put your hands in your pockets, his lovely curly hair in ringlets against his forehead. “How have you been?”

“Not gonna lie,” he spins the basketball on his index finger, “I’ve missed seeing you at lacrosse and keeping Finstock in line in economics.”

You fold your arms, watching the ball spin, “It is good seeing you. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you much last practice – how’s the nose?”

He puts the ball under his arm and leans down to your height, “How does it look?” he grimaces comically, “I don’t dare look – I bet it’s grotesque and crooked and completely messed up.”

You giggle, clamping your index finger and thumb around the arch of his nose, “It looks fine to me.” You wiggle his face around and shove him away, noticing the adorable dimples coming out on his cheeks. “I’m glad it wasn’t something worse.”

“Yeah, McCall was in a funk that day.”

“That’s one word for it.” You sigh, “You going to show me some moves?” You gesture to the basketball, “Any three-pointers?”

He smiles bright, dribbling the ball, “If I make a three-pointer… how about you go on that date with me?”

Your cheeks feel warm as you try to contain your smile, “It’s a deal. Shoot straight, Wickstrom.”

He winks at you and goes for the three-point line outside the black arc surrounding the basket. He dribbles the ball twice before bending his knees and taking aim. With an arm extension, the ball flies in a smooth arch right into the basket.

Andrew holds his arm in that shooting pose, turning to you with a flush growing across his nose, “Nothing but net.”

“Jokes on you,” you say in a sweet voice that was feigning confidence, “I would’ve gone out with you even if you hadn’t made the shot.”

He laughs, walking up to you once more, “Does Friday sound good? Seven o’ clock?”

You say, “Sounds perfect.”

Before he jogs off to join the shirts and skins game being created on the sidelines, he looks at you with his warm expression. “Are you coming to the game tonight?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I might have a girls night…”

“I thought you had to help Finstock being his TA?”

“Oh, no – that’s just during school hours. I’m a regular fan in the stands during games.” You rub awkwardly at your arms as you say, “Things have been tense with some of the lacrosse players.”

He nods, his face suddenly serious with understanding. “I get it. I’m not saying you have to come… but I would love to see you there. Do what’s best for you.”

You take a genuine sigh of relief, “I needed that.” You nod your head towards the team huddles, “Now go earn your gym credit.”

“Finstock isn’t here, Westbrook,” he shrugs, already backing away.

“But he’s left me in charge; I could still fail you.”

He winks again, “You wouldn’t do that to me, sweetheart.”

You laugh as he retreats, but you know what he says is true. You were just glad to be moving on to perhaps a semi-normal relationship with someone that didn’t tangle with werewolves or supernatural hunters or murder investigations.

Stiles was sitting on the bleachers with a couple other kids not wanting to play the games. Each on their phone or reading a book or talking with a friend. Stiles was sitting between the benches, his legs hanging over the side.

He had a deep scowl on his face and twitchy fingers rotating his phone in his palm. He watches your exchange with Andrew with heat in his stomach. He was furious at the entire situation.

Upset that you hadn’t explained your distance. Angry that he hadn’t told you the truth sooner. Mad at himself for letting Scott loose on the full moon. Irritated that his life was consumed by Scott’s problems to the point that he felt like a major comedic side character. One that doesn’t usually get the girl.

But most of all furious that the guy you decide to date isn’t a bad guy at all. Andrew is kind and funny and supportive. He’s such a good guy that Stiles couldn’t be mad at him. And that made him even more mad.

~~~

Taglist: @assassinsasha23 @tasty-book-fans @lovelybaka @the-fandom-queen @runs-with-sciss0rs @iamaslytherin0 @n3muru @bethsvrse @taylorbrooke-0912

[ask-the-sand-fam]

How is the desert,Kazekage-sama?

Is everyone in good health? Was anything interesting happening around?

Gaara: The desert is ever-changing and thriving with blooms due to the closing of the rainy season.

Recently, my family and I spent the day visiting the dunes together. This annual event started between me and my siblings after the war, where the sands of our home blossomed in the shadow of loss that the world was cast in following the celebrations of peace.

Visiting the blooms with my family feels sacred, and is a journey that we have never missed in all the years since. Even Shikadai and his team were able to attend this year, much to my own children’s joy, although Yodo dreads flying on the platforms I create in order for us to travel there and back within a single day. Her brothers and Chocho have proved time and time again to help combat this.

Shinki, Temari and I have taken cuttings that we have already planted in our greenhouse collections. Kankuro and Inojin produced several paintings of the environment that now adorn our homes. Seeing Araya, Metal and Lee explore, Shikadai and Shikamaru resting among the plants and Yodo and Chocho taking time for themselves felt very rewarding. I greatly look forward to our journey next year.

As for our well-being, we are all in good health. Some of us are in even better health than others…

[Reblogging helps to share and support this new askblog. This stops my hours of hard work from dying in your likes, let’s others enjoy it, and motivates me to draw more of this AU! <3]

[cailinsblog]

Nico Hischier's Journey in Love and Parenthood-nico hischier x reader

Nico hischier x reader

In Nico Hischier's rookie year with the NHL, life moved at a whirlwind pace. Amidst the adrenaline of playing professional hockey, there was a quieter, more tender side to his life that few knew about – his relationship with Y/N. They met in a quaint coffee shop on a rainy afternoon in Newark. Y/N was instantly drawn to Nico's warm smile and genuine charm. Despite his burgeoning career and demanding schedule, Nico made time for her. Their dates were often low-key but filled with laughter and the promise of something deeper.

As the season progressed, their bond deepened, and one fateful night, their love took an unexpected turn. Y/N discovered she was pregnant. It was a shock to both of them, navigating the complexities of their budding careers while preparing for parenthood. They made a pact to keep the news private until they were ready to share it with the world.

Months passed in a flurry of games, practices, and doctor's appointments. Y/N continued to support Nico from the sidelines, cheering him on as he carved out his place in the NHL. Despite the challenges, their love only grew stronger, tethered by the impending arrival of their child.

Fast forward to a few years later, during a game at the Prudential Center. Jack Hughes, Nico's teammate and friend, spotted a little boy in the stands, his eyes glued to the ice with an intensity that mirrored Nico's. Something about the boy struck a chord with Jack – the way he held himself, the familiar sparkle in his eyes.

After the game, Jack approached Nico with a curious smile. "Hey, Nico, who's that little guy in the stands? He looks a lot like you."

Nico's heart skipped a beat, realizing Jack had noticed their son. He glanced over at Y/N, who stood nervously beside him, her hand resting protectively on her growing belly. "That's... our son," Nico admitted softly, feeling a mix of pride and apprehension.

Jack's eyes widened in surprise, then broke into a grin. "Wow, congratulations! He's got your smile, man."

Nico and Y/N exchanged a relieved smile, grateful for Jack's understanding and support. They had worried about how their secret would be received, especially in the public eye of professional sports. But Jack's genuine happiness eased their fears.

From that day on, their son became a welcomed presence at the arena, donning a tiny Hischier jersey and cheering loudly for his dad. Nico and Y/N continued to navigate the joys and challenges of parenthood together, supported by their hockey family and the unwavering love that had blossomed from their unexpected journey.

As they watched their son grow, Nico often reflected on how life had a way of surprising you. From rookie nerves to fatherly pride, every moment had led him to where he was meant to be – with Y/N by his side, and their son lighting up their lives like the brightest goal light on the ice.

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

Tu BiShvat: What and How

By Naftali Silberberg

The 15th of Shevat is the New Year for Trees, known as Tu b'Shevat.

According to Biblical law, there is a seven year agricultural cycle, concluding with the Sabbatical year. When the Holy Temple stood in Jerusalem, on years one, two, four and five of this cycle, farmers were required to separate a tenth of their produce and eat it in Jerusalem. This tithe is called Maaser Sheni, the Second Tithe, because it is in addition to the (two percent which must be given to the Kohain, and the) ten percent which is given to the Levite. On the third and sixth years of the cycle, instead of the owners eating the Maaser Sheni in Jerusalem, they gave this second tithe to the poor, who were permitted to consume it wherever they wished.

[On the Sabbatical year, no tithes are separated. All produce which grows during this year is ownerless and free for anyone to take.]

It was therefore of vital importance to ascertain when the new year started for produce. Our Rabbis established that a fruit which blossomed before the 15th of Shevat is produce of the previous year. If it blossomed afterwards, it is produce of the "new year." [By comparison, grains, vegetables, and legumes have the same New Year as humans, the 1st of Tishrei.] Why is this so? In the Mediterranean region, the rainy season begins with the festival of Sukkot. It takes approximately four months (from Sukkot, the 15th of Tishrei, until the 15th of Shevat) for the rains of the new year to saturate the soil and trees, and produce fruit. All fruit which blossom beforehand are a product of the rains of the previous year, and are tithed together with the crops of the previous year.

Although this day is Rosh Hashanah for trees, we attach special significance to this holiday because "Man is [compared to] the tree of the field" (Deuteronomy 20:19). Through cultivating strong roots – faith and commitment to G‑d – we produce many fruits—Torah and Mitzvot.

Observances and Customs

On this day it is customary to partake of the fruit with which the Holy Land is praised (Deuteronomy 8:8): olives, dates, grapes, figs and pomegranates. If tasting any of these fruit for the first time this season, remember to recite the Shehecheyanu blessing. (A blessing recited on joyous occasions, thanking G‑d for "sustaining us and enabling us to reach this occasion." This blessing is recited before the standard "Ha'etz" blessing recited on fruit.)

Due to the festive nature of the day, we omit the Tachanun sections (petitions for forgiveness and confession) from the prayers.

Source: Chabad.org

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2024: 6 Halcyon

(2,480ish words taking place about 20ish years before ARR...)

“Papa! The caravan’s here!”

Rashae stood at the front of their stall, leaning over the counter to see farther down the street. Beyond her, he could indeed see the first of the wagons rolling in.

“Gather your siblings and cousins,” he said. “They’ll be weary from the trade routes and we’ll do our part to lighten their load as we welcome them in.”

Rashae nodded and dashed off. Tanzel joined the other men and women of their Cooperative in leaving his store to ensure the warehouse doors were open and the stables ready to accept the chocobos and their cargo. Friends and relatives greeted one another, separated by weeks or months since they had all left Davarresh for this trade season, plying the wares around the island, with some like Tanzel’s family coming straight to the capital.

He grinned as he saw one of the wagons belonging to the Ranaz family. “Jin!” he called, catching a glimpse of his oldest friend.

Jinrahn turned, smiling broadly to return the quick hug Tanzel gave him. “Good to see you, brother!” Jinrahn said. “It’s good to be home.”

“Until we go home to Davarresh when the wind cools. How was the road?”

“Dusty and hot, as always,” Jinrahn said. “But we’re a little lighter than normal for finishing out the season.”

“That good, eh?”

“Well, I had more charming help than usual.” Jin’s smile faltered slightly, a sympathetic tinge to it that Tanzel did not understand, until he followed his friend’s gaze to the two women wrangling the Ranaz children into some semblance of order. He knew Jinrahn’s wife, but the other woman took him a moment to recognize.

“Is that Emelia?”

“It is,” Jinrahn said. “She and her children arrived just before we left the village. That never ending war the Coerthans somehow have with their dragons—imagine!—claimed her husband.”

“I thought she’d married a farmer?”

“Aye. Something about giving succor to a soldier, some hero I guess, and got caught in the conflict. Lost their house and all. So she came home finally. She can still charm the stingiest Arkasodara grandfather into buying more than he meant, too.”

Tanzel nodded. It had been a shock to everyone when Emelia Ranaz had remained in Coerthas, having fallen in love there, after scorning the attentions of every local boy and even a few girls who had looked her way as she had blossomed from Jinrahn’s skinny little sister into a lovely maiden trained in bardsong.

Well, she was still Jinrahn’s little sister, that they had by turns teased and avoided as boys. At least until she turned and saw Tanzel, taking a moment to recognize him, and then smiling, offering a small wave.

He knew too well that particular sadness swimming in her dark blue eyes, the exact sort of tension in her shoulders.

Tanzel saw the same in his mirror every day.

-

The trade season kept the Cooperative families happily busy, another successful year passing by. Tanzel was now familiar with Emelia’s son, an energetic ten year old called Zaine, playing with the other children when not performing daily chores and light work. A helper, that one, willing to lend a hand as needed.

If he kept busy enough, he wouldn’t have to dwell on his pain, Tanzel knew, from watching his own boys.

Emelia’s daughter was a helper too, but she was quiet, and rarely left her mother’s side, unless she was with the old teacher, Shovanna. Still, Aeryn seemed like a good, hard-working child, who otherwise played or read silently, only rarely joining the other children’s games. Some folks whispered about the girl not being quite right in the head—what unhindered child made such little sound?—but everything Tanzel saw showed a bright, helpful girl, sometimes frustrated by her own silence.

He recognized the hurt in her, too. He saw it in his own daughters.

It was their last night in Radz-at-Han. In the morning—late, after tonight’s merrymaking with their neighbors and those of the Cooperative who would stay through the rainy season—most of them would make the trek up the coast to their little village, and the cycle would begin anew. Tanzel was eager to return to the quiet of Davarresh, after months in the city.

He was not so eager to join in the drinking, feasting, and dancing going on in the square outside the Cooperative’s compound. He put in a brief appearance for propriety’s sake, nursing a single drink while smiling politely and speaking to a few business partners and good friends. He soon slipped away, as had been his wont for the last few years. He just didn’t have the heart for it anymore.

As he found his excuse to return to the storehouse, he saw he wasn’t the only one.

Emelia was in one of the stalls belonging to her family, leaning on a stack of chocobo feedbags. Her hands gripped the canvas, her hunched shoulders stiff. Her long, dark hair hid her face, but he heard her sniffle. He made certain his boots made noise and she straightened, quickly swiping her face before turning with her usual dazzling smile.

“Oh. Hello, Tanzel.”

He smiled in return, but didn’t bother with his own mask. “Hello, Emelia. Not feeling up to the party?”

Her smile faltered. “I...no,” she said, letting the mask drop now. “Not really.”

Tanzel nodded. “Me neither.” He pretended to think for a moment. “Come on.”

She raised a brow. “To where?”

“Somewhere we won’t have to deal with well-meaning friends and their platitudes,” he said bluntly, but gently, heading away from the entrance and the festivities outside.

After a brief moment, he heard her light step follow after him.

He paused in his family stall long enough to grab a couple small, brown bottles from under the counter, that he had not yet packed on purpose. Then he led her to the stairs, and the winding climb up past the third story, taking her hand to help her up onto the roof.

The city glittered and gleamed around them, color and lights rioting under the starry heavens. It was a sight he could never tire of, and from the way Emelia sucked in a breath, it was one she had nearly forgotten, and had not yet taken the time to reacquaint herself with since returning home.

Tanzel and Emelia sat on the edge of the roof, opposite of the party up front, looking out over the city. He popped open one of the bottles and handed it to her, then took the other for himself. Emelia wrinkled her nose as she took a swig.

“Ugh, you and Jin still have terrible taste in booze,” she said, taking another sip.

“A man’s gotta have at least one vice,” Tanzel replied.

“Your grandfather’s favorite saying,” she said. “But he had better taste for proper liquor.” Her soft smile was genuine now, recalling those happy days of their youth.

“We can blame my uncles for being poor influences. Or your uncles. I forget.”

She laughed. Not as freely as she once might have, but genuinely, and that was good enough. “Remember when Uncle Fahr convinced you and Jin that a wish-granting djinn lived in a cave in the cliffs south of Yedlihmad?”

Tanzel chuckled. “I do, and the punishment we got for investigating—and stumbling on a nest of efts instead. You’d think that’d be punishment in itself!”

“Perhaps had something to do with leading them back to town.”

“Oh, perhaps. But you weren’t exactly a saint, either, as I recall.”

“I don’t know what you could mean.”

“That incident with the silk merchant and the fish comes to mind.”

“It was a crab, and that was a perfectly formulated plan for revenge.”

“My mistake. I do have to question your definition of ‘perfectly formulated’ though.”

“My plan was fine,” Emelia insisted with an exaggerated pout. “It was the crab and my target who were uncooperative.”

Tanzel laughed. They continued talking, recalling childhood and adolescent adventures and achievements, bright days when their futures had yet seemed limitless in possibility.

“And I remember,” Emelia said, as the contents of their respective bottles were low. “At your wedding, my brothers were so—” She stopped suddenly, looking away. “I’m sorry.”

“What for? If it was about the pranks they pulled on me just before we were to give our vows, I have it on good authority you had nothing to do with that.”

“I just,” she hesitated. “I heard what happened. And I haven’t taken the time yet…”

He leaned over and bumped her shoulder—not quite like when they were children, but in a similarly familiar manner. “It’s fine. I’ve heard the words often enough. Just like you have by now.”

She peered at him, absently batting him away, as she had done when a girl and he and her brother had pestered her like that. “Doesn’t it still...Are you…”

“Yes, it hurts,” Tanzel replied quietly. He looked out over the city again. “I’m not sure it will ever stop hurting. I might have lost myself in a pile of these bottles, if not for my children.” He smiled. “Rashae’s so much like her mother. Looks like her more and more, too.”

“Zaine looks like his father,” Emelia whispered. “And they both have his eyes.”

“Blessed reminders,” Tanzel said. “At least, that’s what everyone tells me. And on good days, I agree with them.”

“And on bad ones?” She didn’t quite look at him.

“I curse the gods for such a constant cruelty. Then I continue on, trying not to feel guilty, because what else can I do?”

He saw her bite her lip and nod ever so slightly.

“Still,” Tanzel continued, finishing his drink. “It doesn’t hurt to think of our wedding—not anymore. It’s still one of the best days of my life. Then our children were born, and those were blessed times too. At least until the little monsters started keeping us up all night,” he joked.

She chuckled, and he again took it as a victory. “At least you had family with you.”

“That did help.” He frowned. “Did he not?”

She shook her head. “His mother disapproved of me. So we settled in a village where he had friends, and...we did have good neighbors, who helped.”

“Fool woman, to not know what a gem of a daughter-in-law she had,” Tanzel sniffed.

“Thought I was Jin’s bratty little sister.”

“I never said you weren’t still that, too.” He bumped her again. She smiled wanly and shook her head. “You were happy though, weren’t you, Emelia?”

Her face crumpled. “Mostly. I loved him enough to stay in that cold, colorless land—I wanted to come home for years, but he didn’t want to leave, and now...” She leaned forward, face in her hands.

Tanzel rubbed her back for a time, letting her crying, saying nothing. Eventually she calmed, taking a shaky breath, and accepting his handkerchief to wipe her eyes and nose.

“Tell me about Coerthas,” he finally said. “It can’t have been all terrible, if you stayed for so long.”

“It’s all...tangled up in memories of him.”

“Of course it is. But the good outweighs the bad, doesn’t it?” As she considered that, he continued. “That wretched moment cannot overshadow all the time proceeding it. It’s a disservice to them and the joy they brought us. The children they left with us. The only thing that comes close to helping is remembering the times we laughed and loved. That one terrible day can’t take away the rest.”

They were silent for a long while.

“It had its own beauty,” Emelia finally said, voice hushed. “More stark, the mountains swooping over the vales. In Springtime suddenly the fields would go from gray and brown to a lush green and the flowers would bloom like rainbows fallen from the sky. We’d walk along the sheep paths and deer tracks…”

He listened, as she described the idyllic life of a Coerthan farm family—not that they hadn’t known hardship, and he understood her sighing about little Aeryn going through clothes and shoes like water, his Rashae was too similar—but what began in fits and starts soon fell into familiar bardic story rhythms as she told stories until they were both laughing over her children’s antics, her neighbors’ strange foreign actions, and her happier memories of her husband.

The bells chimed thrice, startling them both. The sounds of the party up front had long since faded, though there were still a few revelers wearily talking and stumbling themselves and others to bed. Tanzel stood and stretched, offering Emelia a hand up. She took it, and continued in to give him a tight hug. He returned it, and they stood like that for a long moment.

“Thank you, Tan,” she said, still leaning on him. “I wish...I wish you didn’t understand. But I’m,” she hesitated again.

“But I do. And I’m here, when you need to talk. Or just get away from others who say things, without knowing it how we do.”

She nodded against his chest, then, with a deep exhale, stepped away. “Shovanna said she’d stay with the children, and they should all three be asleep, but I ought to check on them.”

“Mine were probably up too late and getting into mischief until their grandmothers caught them,” Tanzel said. “I’ll get an earful in the morning.”

“So you’ll do as when we were children, and you and Jin used to blame me to try to keep out of trouble.”

“Ah, you’ve caught on to my dastardly plan.”

“Next time, consult someone whose plans are perfect,” she said, affecting a haughty sniff.

“If I find someone like that, I’ll let you know,” he replied, laughing as she bapped his arm.

He helped her off the roof and into the stairwell, and they made their way down in the dark, still joking. They parted at the base, he heading to his family quarters, Emelia to her family’s. He glanced back before stepping inside. She had also stopped, and waved to him.

Tanzel returned the wave before Emelia vanished behind the door. He felt better than he had in awhile. If this pain he carried, and how he was learning to live with it, could help his childhood friend...well, it was far from worth it, but it was something useful, at least. Maybe.

He wished it hadn’t taken this sort of wretched circumstance to reunite them. To make her more than Jin’s bratty little sister, but someone who understood, and needed to be understood herself.

Tanzel shook his head, disposed of the bottles, and continued on to bed. Morning would come too soon and a lot of work with it.

He dreamed of his favorite days with his wife, and then of youthful days playfully teasing his friend’s little sister.

[mermaidgirl30]

Look for the Light Epilogue

Series Masterlist

- Summary: Aly finds herself trying to escape the Boston QZ. What Aly doesn’t know is Tess is pairing her up with Joel to go on a dangerous mission to find Tommy. Will Aly survive the brooding, moody Joel or will she find herself falling hard for him?

- Notes: I am so so sad this story is over! I loved every second of writing this and put in so many hours on this masterpiece. This was my first ever fanfic and I hold it so dear to my heart. I can’t tell you how much I cried writing the epilogue. It ended perfect, and I just can’t get over that it’s over 😭🥹 My heart hurts

This is the song I played over and over when I wrote this chapter, fits so well 🥰🩵

You watched the rest of December disappear just like the snow on the ground. The last few weeks were magical as the town was donned in glittery Christmas lights and garland foliage. Joel had even decorated the living room with a little pine tree and splayed pretty Christmas lights all over it. It was the comfiest Christmas you’d ever had. Your favorite part was being wrapped up with him on the couch as you drank hot chocolate and sat in front of the fireplace on Christmas Eve, keeping warm as he kept you in his lap, running his fingers through your hair and sending light kisses against your temples.

You watched the seasons fly by in Jackson as the months came and went in the blink of an eye. You watched the frigid, snowy days turn to lush, rainy days as the spring flowers started to blossom outside the gates.

The town was quiet for the most part. You had settled into your normal routine in Jackson, taking care of all the horses and even some of the other animals like the sheep which was Joel’s favorite. He had always wanted his own sheep farm, so he’d stop by every time you were tending to them.

Joel started working on more projects in town, helping build new buildings, fixing things around houses, and even doing a little woodwork in his spare time. He always loved working with his hands and making new things. He had a knack for it and was good at it, too. Some days you’d just sit there in his woodshop and watch him work. The way his rough hands would cut the wood, the way he’d turn an ordinary item into a beautiful piece of art. The way his broad shoulders and massive biceps would flex each time he brought the hammer down onto the table. He was a masterpiece in himself. A gorgeous work of art.

And then there was Ellie. You got to witness the budding relationship between Joel and her take place over the changing seasons. That was your favorite thing to see. He taught her so many things, even taught her how to swim in the deep crystal lake that was nearby. He was so careful with her, so patient. You could see he deeply cared about her now.

He was always grabbing up comic books on patrols that he thought she’d like, always putting her needs before his own. He was quite selfless and so kind. You loved seeing him turn from that angry, brooding man into a protective, sweet, loving one. He was so different than the man you once knew. You liked this version of him. No, you loved this version. You loved him, intensely.

Most evenings were spent sitting on the porch swing as you watched Joel teach Ellie more songs on the guitar. He had found her her own acoustic guitar and gifted it to her at Christmas. The way he lit up when he saw Ellie’s face as she opened the gift under the dazzling tree was worth the trip to find the guitar in the first place. It made your heart burst at the seams. She had been so excited to have her own guitar, and she practiced every day as it became her new favorite hobby. Joel and Ellie had become quite the duo.

The crisp, spring days turned into warm summer days as July rolled around. Joel was taking you on an adventure today or so he said. He wouldn’t tell you where you were going. He wouldn’t even do so much as give you a hint. He kept his jaw locked tight as you rolled your eyes and gave up.

As he led Shimmer out of the barn, you saw Tommy and Maria smiling brightly at Joel like they knew something you didn’t. You saw Joel whispering to Tommy and Maria earlier in the week, even doing the same to Ellie. You didn’t know what all the secrecy was about, but you’d figure it out eventually. Your birthday was only a month away, so maybe they were planning a secret party? Oh well, you wouldn’t worry about it today. You’d just enjoy whatever adventure he was taking you on.

Joel was dressed in his usual attire, even though it was above 80 degrees outside. He had on a grey t-shirt and his green flannel shirt hung unbuttoned over that. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows as he showed off those thick veins that spread across the width of his arms and ended at his massive hands.

He had put on even more muscle during the springtime with all the projects he was doing, so his biceps were clinging to his flannel, threatening to tear the material at any given time. You loved those strong arms, loved being inside them as he held you close at night. It was one of your favorite things.

His blue jeans hung snuggly across his waist and showed off his muscular thighs. He was all ripped, all muscle. And he was all yours for the taking.

Before you could jump up on Shimmer, Joel put a hand on your shoulder and stopped you in your tracks. He clicked his tongue and smiled up at you. “Hold on, darlin’. Gotta put this on before we go.” He held out a big, oversized black ribbon in front of your face as you questioned the gesture of it.

“What’s this for?” you asked as your eyebrows furrowed together.

“You gotta put it on so you don’t see where we’re goin’,” he answered as he kept his hand in place with the ends of the ribbon flying softly in the wind.

“But why would I put that on?” you asked with a dazed expression.

“It’s a surprise. Don’t want ya seein’ where I’m leading you. Can I just put it on you?” he asked with a calm voice, trying to convince you the best he could.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Okay, okay. You win. Go ahead,” you said as you crossed your arms. He gently smiled at you and nodded.

“Alright, turn around for me,” he asked, delicately grasping you by the shoulders and turning you as he wrapped the ribbon around your eyes as you watched the sunlight disappear into darkness.

“Can you see anything?” he asked as he tried waving a hand in front of your eyes.

“No, think you wrapped me up tight enough,” you replied as you heard him chuckle under his breath.

“Alright, then up you go.” He lifted you up as you felt yourself leave the ground as you landed on top of Shimmer with your legs dangling and your hands frantically feeling for something to grasp. You felt for the saddle and held on tight.

“Joel, don’t you dare let me fall!” you yelled as you held on for dear life.

He laughed under his breath and jumped up to join you on Shimmer. “I’m not gonna let you fall, sweetheart. Just hold on to me and keep a tight grip. I got you,” he promised as he grabbed a hold of the reins.

You wrapped your arms tightly around his waist before he took off into the heat of the day, letting the wind catch your hair as Shimmer’s pace picked up. The sun’s scorching rays caught your bare shoulders in the white lacy tank top you were in along with the blue Jean shorts that grazed your thighs, making your skin glow with that shimmery summer tan.

You rode on for a couple miles until you finally broke your silence and laughed against the racing wind. “Where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise, darlin’. Can’t tell you even if I wanted to,” he replied as you could hear his smile and how it crinkled up at the corners of his mouth.

“Fine,” you sighed.

He chuckled again softly. “We’re almost there. Just a couple more minutes,” he promised. He squeezed your hand in response, sending vibrations buzzing through your body.

After a few minutes you heard Joel halt Shimmer as she came to a complete stop. He jumped off her back and gently lifted you off, bringing you safely back to the ground.

“Can you take this off me now?” you asked, anxious to take the blinding ribbon off.

“Almost, just give me another minute. Follow my voice, we’re almost there,” he promised.

He took your hands in his and led you forward. You couldn’t see anything, but you could smell sweet, fragrant scents of honeysuckle and floral aromas around you. The smell was overwhelming as it took over all your senses. Flowers were one of your favorite things, and Joel knew this. So you just wondered where exactly he was leading you.

What was he up to?

You could feel the lush grass underneath your feet with every step you took. The wind whistled through your ears as you heard the rustling of branches swaying gently in the breeze and could feel the faint touch of summer heat on your tan skin.

You felt the ground turn softer, almost like you were walking through moss. You heard Joel’s footsteps in front of you faintly, the sound of leaves and sticks crunching under his weight.

“Joel! Not so fast, I don’t want to fall,” you laughed as he led you further into the unknown.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, turning towards you with that soothing voice that could lull all your worries away.

“Yes,” you said automatically. Of course you trusted him.

“Then believe me when I say I’d never let you fall. I’ve got you, I promise.”

The floral scents became stronger as you wandered further into the distance, getting closer to wherever he was leading you. The hint of something sweet like candy filled the air. You breathed in deep and caught the scent of something you’ve smelled before but couldn’t quite grasp what it was.

What was that smell? Something soft…maybe roses? No…something else. You inhaled deeply and got another whiff of lush fragrance. It almost smelled like lilacs. One of your favorites. Joel had always said how much you smelled like lilacs, and it quickly became his favorite trademark of you.

Could it be? No…there weren’t lilacs around this area that you knew of. Maybe jasmine was what you were smelling? Yes, that’s what it had to be.

Joel slowly stopped you as he dropped your hands. “You ready?” he asked with a small laugh rumbling in his throat.

“More than ready,” you said prepared.

“Okay. Open you eyes,” he said softly as he untied the ribbon and dropped it, freeing you from the darkness as blinding light took over. You took a moment to adjust your eyes and then you saw just where you stood.

You gasped as you took in your surroundings. You weren’t just anywhere. You were in the middle of a giant field filled with lilac and violet flowers. The field was absolutely covered as vibrant purples blossomed all around you. Thick vines of lilac climbed up the sides of oak trees and got buried in the pinks and whites of wild flowers in the distance. You never saw such beautiful flowers before. The deep, rich shades of light and dark purple completely took over the area. It was like nothing you had seen before.

“Joel…how did you find this place?” you asked in disbelief, making a clear circle as you turned to face him again.

“This wasn’t exactly here before,” he answered as he raked a hand across his salt and pepper scruff, staring at you nervously.

“What do you mean it wasn’t here?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you took a step towards him, taking in the sweet smell of lilacs as it encased the air.

“I planted them by hand in the winter. Well, not just me. I had Maria help me since she’s a master at that sort of thing. She said they’d be fine over winter and wouldn’t take too long to start growing. They’re not fully mature yet, but it’s just the beginning. Another year and they’ll be fully grown. Thought you might like it….ya know since they’re your favorite flowers and all,” he said blushing, a small smile edging his lips as his dimples were in full effect now. Making you all warm and fuzzy from the view of him. That beautiful smile.

“You…you did this all for me?” you whispered, your eyes wide in shock.

“That’s right. All for you, sweetheart,” he answered affectionately.

Oh.

“Joel, that…that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” you said quietly, still in a daze.

“So, ya like it then?” he asked with raised eyebrows, anxious for your answer.

“I don’t just like it, I love it!” you said excitedly as you beamed at him.

“Good, that’s good,” he smiled again as he scratched the back of neck restlessly.

What was he so nervous for? Was he afraid you wouldn’t like it? Because obviously you loved it.

You spun around as you glanced over the glorious flowers as they were on full display for you, their heavenly scents surrounding you as you drank in the sweet fragrance. You grazed your finger over a deep purple violet as you took in its delicate, velvety petals. Examining how succulent and pretty they all were.

You turned back around towards Joel as you were about to ask him a question. “Joel, do you…” You stopped mid sentence when you saw him down on one knee right in front of you. Your eyes went wide and your jaw dropped at the sight as you took in his sincere and longing eyes as he stared at you in awe.

Was he about to ask you to…oh my God.

He took both of your hands in his as he took a deep breath and smiled admiringly at you. “Alyson Harper, my love. Where do I even begin? You are the most beautiful, incredible woman I’ve ever met. You’ve taught me so much over the last year, so much about life. You’ve shown me how to be patient, how to be kind. Especially with Ellie. I could not have brought her all the way here without your help and support. And I definitely couldn’t raise her on my own without your help and guidance. You are incredibly patient with her, and that’s something you taught me how to be also. You’ve taught me how to be completely selfless, how to be gentle. You helped me find my way to the light when I was stuck in the darkness, unable to find my way out myself. You’ve taught me how to trust again, how to love again. You reminded me what it was like to live again. You’ve been exactly what I needed all along. You made me a better man, made me want to be better. For you and for Ellie. And I just could not picture my life without you in it. You are the love of my life, Alyson. And I don’t want to do this life without you.”

You felt a teardrop run down your cheek as you quickly wiped it away. His speech was so beautiful, it was like music to your ears. An entire symphony that was only playing for you, and Joel was the composer. You were internally screaming at his words, at how intimate and loving they were. The way he was looking at you with those warm, serene pools of honey in his eyes almost knocked you down by how intense it was.

He dropped one of your hands and dug around in his pocket for something until he found exactly what he was looking for. Once he grabbed it, he fished his hand out of his jeans and held up a glistening, purple amethyst diamond ring to you which made you about topple over.

You gawked at the sight as your eyes went wide and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand, completely stunned at just what was happening before your eyes. Joel’s deep brown eyes were watering as he continued on with his speech as he held your hand tightly and looked at you as if you were the only girl in the world.

“Alyson, will you please do me the honor of marrying me? Make me the happiest man in the world,” he asked as he poured his heart out to you.

You felt your heart skip a beat as happy tears fell down your cheeks. You bit your lip and held in anymore tears that were threatening to spill, wanting to compose yourself in the best way that you could.

“Joel, I don’t know what to say…” you said stunned, your voice carrying faintly across the soft wind.

“Say yes, baby,” he pleaded, his eyes honing in on you as they sank deep inside your soul. You swear you could feel that string attached to his heart connect to yours as you were pulled to him like a moth to a flame.

He was asking as if you needed enticing. Of course you didn’t. This was a hard yes, the easiest yes you’d ever have to say. Joel was your future, your best friend, your forever lover. And you wanted it with him as much as he wanted it with you. A life of happiness, full of love and joy.

“Yes, yes! A thousand times yes,” you yelled in pure bliss as you met him on his level and cupped his face in between your palms, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

His lips tasted like honey as his soft, delicate lips crashed down on yours. He wrapped his arm around your waist and picked you up, spinning you in circles as he kissed you again and again, finally putting you back on the ground and keeping his arms around you.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he said as he smiled down at you, brushing his lips against yours.

He took your left hand in his and gently slid the sparkling ring on your ring finger. It was a perfect fit. It was so gorgeous, you’d never seen anything quite like it before. The way the iridescent diamond was etched, you swear you could see Joel’s heart beating inside it. A clear marking of something you could wear forever that was a piece of him.

“How did you find this? It’s gorgeous,” you breathed out as he held your hand up and observed the ring.

“You know all those late nights I spent on patrols with Tommy?” he asked as he looked into your eyes with big, dreamy brown eyes, nearly taking your breath away at the sight.

“Yeah,” you whispered back.

“Well, turns out Tommy helped me search high and low for a jewelry store. He knew there had to be one around Wyoming somewhere. Took a long time, but we finally found one. It was pretty picked through. I didn’t have too many options, but I wanted to find the perfect ring for ya. You always said purple was your favorite color, so when I saw this I just knew it was the one. And it’s beautiful on you, really brings out the sapphire blue of your eyes. My little lilac angel,” he purred as he caressed your check with the base of his thumb, slowly easing you into a hypnotic lull that you didn’t want to shake.

“Joel…I have no words. This is…this is just so incredible. You’re incredible. You’re amazing. You’re everything I ever wanted.” A tear trickled down your cheek and Joel caught it with his thumb, wiping it away as he kissed the damp area on your face gently.

“You deserve the best, and I’m going to be that for you. I’m gonna take good care of ya, sweetheart. Gonna love you with everything that I have.”

He slowly brought his lips back down to yours and gave you a long, passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gently scratched along the tousled curls at the back of his head as he slid his tongue into your mouth, gently massaging yours in tune with his as you tasted a hint of coffee. That taste that you loved and couldn’t get enough of.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you down to the ground playfully as he climbed on top of you and caged his arms around you, hovering just about you as he blocked the sun from your vision. All you saw were those magnetic, syrupy brown eyes and an infectious smile that played across the corners of his mouth, making him look like the gentle soul that he was. His eyes were lit up like he had just won the lottery the way he was looking at you. It made your heart melt all just the same.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked as you laughed, taking a hand and running it up and down his inner arm slowly, making you want to pull him down on top of you.

“Because the prettiest girl just agreed to marry me, and now I get you all to myself,” he beamed as his eyes lit a fire in your soul.

“Oh, you get me all to yourself now?” you laughed, trailing your fingers against his salt and pepper scruff.

“Mhm,” he hummed as his lips hung just above yours.

“I am all yours. Now come here, handsome.” You grabbed a hold of his t-shirt and pulled him down to you. He landed on your lips as he placed a hand under your chin, keeping you glued to him as he explored your mouth with his tongue, lapping you up completely as he rolled over and pulled you on top of him, his arms going around your waist as he slowly ended the kiss.

You laid there on his chest and ran your hand through his dark, tousled curls, taking in his warm eyes and infectious smile as he stared up at you in awe.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked dreamily as you played with an out of place curl, gently running your fingers across his scalp.

“How I’m gonna get to call you Mrs. Miller,” he said with a sideways smile as a smirk etched the edge of his mouth, making him look that much more handsome.

“Why don’t you practice now?” you asked flirtatiously.

“Okay. Mrs Miller…” he whispered. “Or how about Alyson Miller?” he asked with a breathtaking smile.

“I like the sound of that. Actually, I love that. I love the way you say my name. The way it just rolls off your tongue without any hesitation. You just make it so melodic,” you replied in a dreamlike state.

“Alyson…” he said with a breathy, drawn out voice. Making your thighs squeeze tighter around him as he lit a fire deep inside you.

“Keep going,” you begged as you got closer to his lips. Just an inch from tasting him.

“Alyson…my love, my everything.”

And then you were on him as you dug your fingers into his messy curls and connected with his lips, tasting sweet coffee again as you got lost in his fresh mahogany scent. After a few minutes of kissing and showing him affection, he pulled you into his side as you wrapped an arm around his chest and placed your legs over his, getting comfortable against him.

“I can’t believe I get to marry you,” you said in a daze as his hand covered yours, slowly entwining his fingers with yours.

“I can’t believe it either, sweetheart. I’m just so happy that you’re mine. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you,” he said with a sigh as he kissed your temple.

“You’re incredible,” you whispered into his ear. “I want you to know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And there’s not a day that goes by where I don’t just stop and go, God, I love Joel Miller,” you said with a smile pressed against your lips.

“Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to ask you. You know I told Ellie I was gonna marry you?”

You turned your head and looked at him with wide eyes. “When did you tell her that?”

“A few months ago. I’m just glad she didn’t say anything. I swore her to secrecy. You know she helped too. With the flowers. She was so excited when I told her what I was planning. Had her jumping up and down. That girl is a mess,” he laughed as he gently placed another kiss on your cheek.

He knew for months he wanted to marry you and planned it for that long? Wow… he really was incredible.

“I love you, Joel. You’re everything I could’ve wished for and more,” you said as you held back tears.

“Oh, Alyson. And you’re my everything. My favorite person, the love of my life. I’m never ever letting you go, sweetheart.” He placed a tender kiss across your lips and then pulled you in close as you closed your eyes and breathed him in. Your sweet, gentle lover. Yours.

You laid in the bed of lilacs and violets for several minutes as you took in all the sights around you. Soaking up the sunshine, memorizing every line on Joel’s body, getting lost in his warm brown eyes, and losing yourself in the delicious scents of budding flowers, pine cones, and mahogany. Taking it all in so you could remember this day as the best day of your life.

Joel ran his hand up and down your thigh slowly as his calloused fingers brushed up against your skin, making you sink into him even more. “You wanna stay here awhile?” he asked with a low drawl.

“Yeah, let’s just enjoy this. It’s peaceful out here, and I get you all to myself. Let’s stay here for a few hours, maybe watch the sunset go down. Doesn’t that sound romantic?” you asked in a sing-song voice, completely lost in the bliss.

“Whatever you want, darlin’. We can stay as long as you want,” he said as he drew a line of kisses down your neck, sending heat into the center of your body.

“I love you, Joel,” you whispered.

“I love you more, Alyson,” he said with a lull. And then you were covering yourself in him as both of you got completely lost in the other. Making love in a bed of lilacs as you confessed your undying love to each other over and over again.

And you did stay there till the sun set. You stayed there till you had nothing left to give as you laid tucked into his side with just his plaid shirt over you, basking in the scent of each other. You slowly watched the orange sunset as it lit up the sky with painted pink and deep purple colors as you got lost in his lips again, sinking into him like he was your lifeline. But he was. He was your everything, and you’d spend the rest of your life showing him just how much you loved him.

This is where you felt most at home. Wherever he was was where you wanted to be. And you’d follow him until the end of time. Show him day and night just how much you loved him. He was your guiding light, and you’d never let him burn out. Promising to keep him in the light forever. Your eternity.

Epilogue: Pt II

[vgperson]

Vocaloid Highlights: April 2023

No foolin', she IS the star. Highlights Archive

========== Stand-Outs ========== April Star Toe Loop Cheap Property King Queen Jack Dance Samsa Heart-Fluttering Star☆Land! Nero Misfortune All Ameri A Brief History of Us Gourami Kiss Spring Express Train Unclear Wisdom Requiem Startling Dystopia Kotonoha Dance Da-Da-Da-Dance Strobe Caster Euphobia Record of Exile Simulcaster Know Misery Rain Shelter Babel Obscured Mad Head Worm Open Eyes Lost in Void

========== Worth Your Time ========== Anomaly You-Colored Sky Non-Inevitable Greed Gazer One Day At A Time Ms. Dummy Insomnia Meaningless Music FROM A TREASURE BOX On a Night of Red Ruin Be The MUSIC! Closing the Distance to You Absolute Status Quo Keeping Imitation in the Mirror Burnit!! Plant Human MAGIC CITY NIGHT Diva In Praise of Youth Apple and Pomegranate Retro Future Being Dream Dancer Rainy Noise Words Are Longing To Get Out Happy End Konpeito and Love Horoscope Let Me See Water Space Ultramarine Let's Die Together With the Piano After It Breaks You Don't Listen To People, Huh Fleeting Eternity RED Final Correspondence Muddy Bouquet Demo Song Dream Girl I'm Home Haustier Conspiracist I Just Can't Live SUSHI-GO-ROUND Destruction Girl The Same Outcome Gerbera Lost Forever Impurity save to heart Aster Stop the HICCUP Midnight Railroad Crossing Last Order Spring Haze, Clouding in Windstorms If Life Has a Weight Happy Creator Te-Te-Te Metamorphose Lost City Girl Love and Sakura are Moments. Season's Cheeks and Wonderland Night Walk Gold Prize Rainy Raine-chan '89 Da Da Dawn Our Experiment Sound of Spring's Departure Trash Can Search Climber Wind Sprint Won't Kill Divine Possession Parallel White Clouds Lethal Pervert Waiting in the Sea Sorrow's Pocket Nothing to Sell But Kindness Light Blue Damage Fashion Poor Loser Gymnastics #1 Seriously Sick Blossom Scar PAREIDO (Parade) Anaphylaxis X-Mark Batter Your Point of View The Day I Learned Love PLUG→OUT Labyrinth Lamentin' Bein' Sick (Special Version) Reminiscence Poetry Vanity L Violet Refrain & Remind Round and Round and Under Teto-Teto-Toteto Monologue The Day's End Boiling Isol-ization (2023 ver.) Beyond Sleep, It Doesn't Rain. You said you love me

[fancuries]

The time has come for us to reveal this year’s fantastic Fancurie Nominees! Voting’s start date is yet to be decided, but worry not! That doesn’t mean you can’t still show appreciation for your favorites and cheer them on with all your heart. The List is divided up by Category, so if you’re searching for a certain someone, just use ‘Command F’ to search for them :)

These WAN-derful creators and their works have amazed us with all put into them, so please give a (virtual) round of applause for the Nominee List! Click below the cut for the big reveal. Congrats to everyone, we’re ultra happy to have you here!

-Fanseries of the Year-

Blossoming Hearts Precure by AwkwardSauce

Nintendo Precure by PeachieCure

Oceana Precure by Magical Chise

Sweet Nature Precure! by lightning_skyyy

Samurai Flash Pretty Cure by Lulu

Once Upon Precure by letsudraw 

Fuwa Power☆Pretty Cure! by smellyelly

-Favorite Fancure-

Hidaka Nao/Cure Sunflower created by AwkwardSauce

Cure Rainy created by StoneUmbrellaArt

Yuanfen Zhao/Cure Fen Hong Se created by FennieAile

Yuki/Cure Platina created by vivipuri

Aleta Acker/Cure Memoria created by Looontoonz. 

Mariko Asoda/Cure Action created by Tiffany-chan-123

Vivianna/Cure Loyalty created by *Kalopsia*

Vanelope Von Schmitt/Cure Sweets created by AlliMocha

-Creator of the Year-

PensandHearts

PeachieCure

smellyelly

Just a Melon Pan

Luna Starcatcher/StarcatcherDreams

Aceaeite

Blueskygelato

-Best Fanseries Concept-

Plushies, Childhood, & Found Family - Precious Friends Precure by PensandHearts

Nintendo Games & Franchises - Nintendo Precure by PeachieCure

Ghosts, Spirits, & the Supernatural - Yūrei Attack Precure by Emil162

Hanakotoba (Flower Language), Friendship, & School Life - MagiHana Precure by Just a Melon Pan

Life, Death, Magic, & Sorcery - Viva La Vida Precure by vivipuri

The Internet, Web Safety, & RPG Classes - Digital Pretty Cure by Shirogane Sammy

Technology, Cyberspace, Video Games, & 90s Nostalgia - 8-Bit Pretty Cure by Tiffany-chan-123

Time travel, History, & Learning - TICKTOCK Time Travel Pretty Cure by tomatoteddy

Arcades, Racing Games, & Sweets - Sugar Rush! Pretty Cure by AlliMocha

-Best Team Design-

Divine Horizons Precure by PensandHearts; Drawn by AlliMocha

Fuwa Power☆Pretty Cure! by smellyelly

FunTastic Precure by Magicalbirbart

Magie Musica Precure by Nyamu Utani

Sugar Rush Pretty Cure by AlliMocha

Ahoy! Pirate Precure by nemojokard

DREAMCATCHERS!!!!! Pretty Cure by tomatoteddy 

-Best Individual Cure Design-

Cure Delivery created by muffinmoonn

 Kusaka Haia/Cure Jewelry created by Neopolitansworld

Meguri Sanzu/Cure Buster created by emil162

Nekoshima Sasha/Cure Prima created by Nyamu Utami

Vivianna/Cure Loyalty created by *Kalopsia* 

Nagumo Sara/Cure Cozy created by smellyelly

-Best Mascot/Fairy Design-

Cookie & Cracker from Once Upon A Time! Fairytale Precure by ritsu

Poko-Poko created by Emil162

Cozy Panda from Toy Monster Pretty Cure by nymoonunicat033

Pixelena from Nintendo Precure by PeachieCure

Dinah from Kuni no Alice Precure by Tsuki Usami

Albus from TICKTOCK Time Travel Pretty Cure by tomatoteddy

Nighty from Fuwa Power☆Pretty Cure! by smellyelly

Pinkity Drinkity & Dragon Drinkity from Beauty Guru Precure by nemojokard

-Best Villain Design-

Calla from Blossoming Hearts Precure by AwkwardSauce

Nocturna from Fuwa Power☆Pretty Cure! by smellyelly

Jirai-Keia from Digital Pretty Cure by Shirogane Sammy

Belladonna from 8-Bit Precure by tiffany-chan-123

Voilanna from Presto! Showtime Pretty Cure by VelaNova

-Best Henshin Item Design-

Bloom Box & Floret Keys from Blossoming Hearts Precure by AwkwardSauce

Cure Clocks & PreCharms from Fuwa Power☆Pretty Cure! by smellyelly

MagiHana Crescent from MagiHana Precure by Just a Melon Pan

Angel Juice from Pretty Cure Dream Hospital by MikanYae1278

Precure Storybook from Once Upon Precure by letsudraw 

Seasonal Wands & Keys from Nature Shift! Pretty Cure by nemojokard

-Best Logo Design-

Blossoming Hearts Precure by AwkwardSauce)

Stelle Bright Precure by linyu3u

Fuwa Power☆Pretty Cure! by smellyelly

Storytime Pretty Cure by soleilequinoxstories

-Prettiest Cure-

Moritoki Kaname/Cure Bouquet from Crafty Precure by kokoruu

Aberdeen Sloane/Cure Ripple from Fantasia Precure by dolicehearts

Cure Freya from Fairy Dream Precure by aceaeite

Yuki/Cure Platina from Viva La Vida Precure by vivipuri

Yuzuki Maiki/Cure Taffy from Sweet♡Hearts! Pretty Cure! by Tsukiyume Luna

Sakurano Airi/Cure Sweetheart from Yumeiro Pretty Cure by magicalbirbarts

Celestia Mercier/Cure Fantasy from DreamCatchers!! Precure by tomatoteddy

Cure Haunting created by blueskygelato

-Cutest Cure-

Cure Lumine from Dreamy Fantasia Precure by flvtterbvgg

Azuki Inubozaki/Cure Puppy from Pawfect! PetTime Pretty Cure by tomatoteddy

Amu Itogawa/Cure Stitch from Crafty Precure by Kokoruu 

Bashira Chifuyu/Cure Salty from Cosmic☆Rays Pretty Cure! by Ellee

Cure Bubble/Aozora Maki from Sweetheart Pretty Cure by dreamnoteprincess

Celestia Mercier/Cure Fantasy from DreamCatchers!! Precure by tomatoteddy

-Coolest Cure-

Takarada Rion/Cure Jewel from Crafty Precure by kokoruu

Meguri Sanzu/Cure Buster from Yurei Attack Pretty Cure by Emil162

Maria/Cure Aurea from Viva la Vida Precure by Vivipuri

Hiroshi Aoyagi/Cure Light from Stelle Bright Precure by linyu3u

Valeria Blackwood/Cure Vampira from Magical Shadows: The Twilight Cures  by MissEasChan2009

Tabitha Mathews/Cure Taffy from Sugar Rush Precure by AlliMocha

Kayla Coleman/Cure Puzzle from 8-Bit Pretty Cure! by tiffanychan-123 

Lei Sandiego/Cure Spice from Bittersweet X Daydream Precure by AlliMocha

Addie Herrman/Cure Charm from Presto! Precure Showtime!!! by Vela Nova

-Best Lead Cure-

Morimoro Honoka/Cure Rose from Blossoming Hearts Precure by AwkwardSauce

Mochizuki Maika/Cure Reverie from Fuwa Power☆Pretty Cure! by smellyelly

Katelan Jules Valerio/Cure Sleuth from The Precure Investigations by FennieAile

Kato Sora/Cure Lightning from Sweet Nature Precure! by lightning_skyyy

Densetsu Sakura/Cure Future from Digital! Pretty Cure by Shirogane Sammy

Rina Amano/Cure Joyful from Storytime Precure by soleilequinoxstories

-Best Supporting Cure-

Hidaka Nao/Cure Sunflower from Blossoming Hearts Precure by AwkwardSauce

Takumi Kaito/Cure Nalu from Oceana Precure by Magical Chise

Natalie Goldstone/Cure Trainer from Nintendo Precure by PeachieCure

Morino Suzuko/Cure Thunder from Sweet Nature Precure! by lightning_skyyy

Moeka Chibana/Cure Sakura from Samurai Flash Pretty Cure by Megumi Aramaki

Hayashi Naomi/Cure Clover from Sweetheart Pretty Cure by dreamnoteprincess

Yoshimoto Haruhi/Cure Royal from Storytime Precure by soleilequinoxstories

-Best Mascot-

Sayu from Digi Cute Pretty Cure by ShadowmanePX41

Pixelena from Nintendo Precure by PeachieCure

Paon Cat from Digital Precure by Shirogane Sammy

Albus from TICKTOCK Time Travel Pretty Cure by tomatoteddy

Tupper from Nature Shift! Precure by nemojokard

-Best Supporting Character-

Quinn Solace from The Precure Investigation by FennieAile

Princess Dahlia from 8-Bit Pretty Cure by Tiffany-Chan-123

-Best Villain(s)-

Dahlia, Cosmo, & Calla from Blossoming Hearts Precure by AwkwardSauce

The Corrupted Sirens from Oceana Precure by Magical Chise

Delilah from Pawfect Heaven Precure by Ponypanter09

Ran-Ran from Fuwa Power☆Pretty Cure! by smellyelly

-Excellence in Traditional Art-

Haruruism 

KentaWong94 

KiraKiru

Blueskygelato

-Excellence in Digital Art-

Mahougui

Aceaeite 

Just a Melon Pan 

kirb/<(=OuO=)> 

salsasprecure 

AlliMocha 

-Excellence in Doll Maker Design-

DreamNotePrincess

MintyBingus 

Luna Starcatcher/StarcatcherDreams

tiffany-chan-123 

[hwaightme]

Love was spring

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💮 pairing: seonghwa x gn!reader 💮 genre: comfort, fluff, tid-bits of angst, strangers to lovers 💮 summary: following a serendipitous meeting with you, seonghwa blooms in love after heartbreak, and learns that "if you intend to love a single flower, you must love its generation and extinction, presence and absence." - Do Jonghwan 💮 wordcount: 2.6k 💮 warnings/tags: allusion to idol!hwa, heartbreak, recovering from heartbreak, flora, cherry blossom season, implied ideation of death, time, healing, overcoming hardships, rainy days, discussion of life and its meaning, reassurance, meaning of forever 💮 a/n: the sentimental mood, bittersweet reminiscence have not left me after listening to Seonghwa's cover of Angel Baby, so I hope you enjoy my expression of this <3 Thank you so much to Sky (@/legohwas) for reading and for helping with the name, forever grateful<33 Much love and any reblogs, comments, thoughts and notes welcome!

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Love was pernicious when the soul was a snow-covered, sleeping tree - a notion that Seonghwa had been unfortunate enough to explore, and a terror to experience. In the flickering embers of what used to be a blazing passion, Seonghwa had remained intentionally oblivious to himself, and to the troubles that constructed a suffocating enclosure around him until catastrophe was imminent. When he had been at his lowest and needed precious love and unconditional support the most, he had been left to perish in the lonely silence, accompanied solely by the drumming of a biting cold winter rain. That day, his heart had joined the millions of droplets by shattering into a myriad of miniscule white flowers, only for their pure luminescence to be extinguished in the blink of an eye and blend with the wet concrete as sickly grey sludge.

As he watched the sun leave his life, the back of the one who had all his adoration and had promised him a forever turning into that of a total stranger, he ceased to believe in the feeling. If it was something so easily disposed of, equivalent to the passivity one experienced when discarding a plastic wrapper or an old, useless and broken toy, then he did not want any part in this farce. Evidently, he had been mistaken in his romanticisms, in his dreams and in his vision of soulmates, and thus, in his future.

Nights blended into days, remaining colourless as Seonghwa drifted in a melancholic somnolence. A hollow shell of a human being, he did what he had to do to be deemed functional enough, competent enough, acceptable enough for the rotating cogs of the societal machine. Seonghwa smiled, because his muscles were trained to do so. He refined his movements in a complex dance routine, because he could dissociate from his inner turbulence. But, in the darkness of his room where he had long ceased to turn on the light out of fear that he would see the ghosts of his history, he let himself collapse onto his bed and study the vapid monotony of his ceiling, so intently that he saw a reflection of his own heartache and misery in the off-white paint.

Amidst his endless search for some form of relief, the dark-haired man had taken to visiting the same bridge every rainy evening. The very bridge on which he had parted with the one who he had called the love of his life, physically metamorphosing into nothing but a black dot with every confident step away from him, but still having the ability to transform into a festering wound in his cranium. Seonghwa had nothing left to give, and yet he kept on hoping that one day everything could turn around, and the sun would shine once more. Alas, the rain had only gotten stronger, until the unforgiving element was a loyal spirit hovering above his lowered head.

Pulling the heavy weight of fate behind him, Seonghwa trudged to the bridge once more, turning in the direction of the flowing river and regarding the way in which large droplets collided with the surface, disturbing an otherwise innocent, serene mirror of the sky. Collapsing onto the stone guardrail, he peered at the waters below absent-mindedly and toyed with the idea of becoming a leaf, be it an oak or a maple; exist to gather energy, give, give and give some more only to break away from familiar territories and succumb to eternal rest on the current’s bubbling surface. A long, tranquil holiday. Away from all of this. Away from judgement, misinterpretation, anxiety that gnawed at his insides like a voracious dog. If only Seonghwa had known that it would turn out like this; then he would have never given into the silly risk that was now poisoning his thoughts, his feelings, and was rapidly approaching his actions. 

And it was at that moment, in the desperate solitude, amidst a battle with himself that he met you, and the unforgiving downpour cowered in your radiance.

“Hey, you come here often?” The cheesy phrase pulled him out of his ruminations, and he spun his head around to register the source of sound, finally stumbling upon a figure wrapped up in a raincoat, face partially hidden by an umbrella. Out of politeness, he chose to respond to the mysterious passer-by, flabbergasted when the umbrella moved to reveal a megawatt grin and an adorable face. While you looked to be about his age, you possessed a fascinating contrast of wise eyes that gave the impression of having seen many lives, wonders and displeasures of the world, and the refreshed, youthful face with the faintest natural blush coating your cheeks. In his mind, you were the promise of spring after a detestable, incorrigibly brutal winter.

Love was assuaged grief when the soul was the bare branches of a cherry blossom tree, early buds only just beginning to peek out from their bundled cots, and revealing their youthful colours against the warm grey bark that was decorated with memories of past trials and tribulations; an ode to time itself. This was a notion which you had proposed to Seonghwa amidst your improvised performances - an attempt to elicit at least the ghost of a priceless smile. After the initial meeting, you had come to cross paths more and more often, until serendipitous grew into coincidental, grew into intentional. And for the first time, Seonghwa found his footsteps and his heart getting lighter, and the rain no longer provoked despondent rumination, leaving the cyclical, habitual aches that only time could heal.

The routine was simple. Every evening when the sleepless sky caressed the earth with millions of diamonds that connected to form thousands of threads, embellishing the heavens and tying the mortal and the timeless, you would meet. Same bridge. Same time. Same umbrella, decorated with ornate flowers. You had not asked Seonghwa for much, except to show up, and to bring you a story that brought him warmth. Even if the side effect of the otherwise happy and reassuring memory was a stray tear or two. Raindrops, condensation of the soul, you called them. Trickling reminders that he was able to feel and was capable of knowing when he was on cloud nine prior to entering his period of monsoons and thunderstorms.

Each rainy night, of which there were many, come early signs of the spring season, he recounted what love had meant for him before being subdued by a ruthless frost. How he had traversed each city believing that he finally understood the meaning of utopia and paradise, only for the rose glasses that he had unknowingly been given to be shattered, leaving him experientially blind. Suspended in his retrospections, Seonghwa ambled through his mind’s labyrinth as he divulged the stories of the many shops, cafes and quiet cobbled streets he had visited, with the memories now having transformed into bitter anguish.

The more he shared, the more despicable the prior fondness became. How dare this terror haunt him so? How dare the scenes appear before him in a warm sepia tone, when Seonghwa wanted nothing more but to let them go? He wanted to shed the dead leaves. Anything to submit to an unfeeling winter for a while, for the remnants of the prologue to his solitude to be frozen solid.

“You may wish to forget and say it never happened, it is only natural. But sooner or later, the ice and snow will melt and all that you had buried will be streaming down memory lane and back into your heart.”

“I suppose, but either way I will be thinking about it. So what does it matter if I think about it now, or later?”

“Acceptance, Seonghwa. Acceptance. With steady reflection and time dedicated to yourself rather than your demons comes acceptance. As you’re healing, the sun shines brighter, the days get longer, and the world awakens. It would be a shame to miss the spring, don’t you think?”

He lowered his head in silent musing, letting your words echo in his head before turning to survey the landscape. This was his first venture in the park near the bridge, despite him passing by it countless times. It had been a setting, a backdrop for his chilling thoughts, so deeply entrenched in periphery that he had never even considered stopping and admiring it. And now, with you, he felt that it was right that he did - without you walking by his side, finally having let him take a hold of your umbrella and hold it above your heads, he doubted he would find this collection of bare trees, murky ponds and meandering cement paths as miraculous as he did now. You pointed out the buds, so young they were a pale turquoise, and the fresh grass, thin lines of green among the wilted greys and browns. 

Perhaps this was what you envisioned when you talked of love. The nightfall turning into sunset as the clocks chimed the same hour. The same tree, adorned with the promise of a stunning canopy. The same memories, but with each passing day, growing brighter and lighter, until they turned into white clouds floating across the skies of sweet daydreams, serving as nothing more than a signifier of a past that had paved the way towards a marvellous present. If this was what you envisioned, then, certainly, this was what Seonghwa wanted to learn to feel.

Love was harmonious when the soul was the flurry of cherry blossom petals dancing in the wind, enveloping the beholder in the spring embrace and decorating the world in a snowlike carpet and in baby pink. While the tree did not bloom for long, reaching its most beautiful peak and burning out at times in a matter of days, the fleeting, divine glory that it achieved was what you and Seonghwa would consider an eternity. If anything, the growth, the blossoming, the fall were reflections of every living organism in the expanse of space and time; a slow inhale, and a level, measured out exhale all in the hopes of a next cycle. 

“You know, Seonghwa, I think that every single person is like a cherry blossom tree. Grand, ever-expanding, unique… bare. However, our identity, our interests, our friends and family… fans, they are all blossoms, leaves, the curvature in the bark that decorates the magnificent branches.”

Your musings were Seonghwa’s favourite pastime and focus, the words forming philosophical symphonies as he let himself be guided from one piece to the next. He had found comfort in sharing his troubles with you, and as soon as the weather had gotten warm enough for you to be able to do so, sitting side by side under the awakening flora to ponder their meaning into a fuzzy abstraction. The conversation had stemmed from your observation of the falling flowers, appearing to be shed as soon as they blossomed. Taking note of the lack of regal white robes on some of the branches, Seonghwa had pointed out that they might have been stolen away by the heavy rain last night, thus falling into a moment of melancholy as he recollected the circumstances of your first meeting.

Gently, you placed a hand over his in an expression of reassurance and a reminder that you, indeed, were here with him, and were not striving for impermanence. Turning his own hand so the palm was facing upwards, he intertwined your fingers together, comfortable with the sweet affection, since the throngs of observers hungry for photographs of the blossoms at their most splendid had long whittled down to lazy stragglers. They still retained a sliver of a chance to capture the grandeur of the remaining veterans before they too would join the fallen white raindrop, preferred to amble past, enraptured by their own routines, their own growth, their own blossoms.

“Flora has its life cycles. The same goes for everything in life. Some things and people appear and disappear in a single season, with only pictures or a passing thought to retain them in your psyche, whilst others, either on their own accord or by joining forces with like minded souls become a continuous presence. You see, even those who you had to say goodbye to were precious. Because they are irreversibly a part of you. Anything you do, anyone you meet is an addition to that beautiful blossoming tree, just like you are to theirs.”

Seonghwa shifted his gaze towards you, taking in your serenity as you basked in the April sun. Leaving behind the flowery umbrella and with it the rainy days, he was caught in a silent bliss, eagerly waiting for each tomorrow, all while living vicariously through every today. He found himself reconnecting with passion, with art. No longer was he functioning for the sake of appearances, but was well and truly living. After having assumed he had to love only beauty and solely seek perfection - the exact notion which had resulted in his near demise, it was a breath of fresh, resurrecting air to discover that to truly love, meant to love the silence, the obsoletion and the absence. Now, as one season changed into another, and as gorgeous blossoms fell to turn into colourful water streams he was able to sit back and quietly observe the metamorphosis instead of mourning it. Because he knew that this meant there would be a future, with new colours, new leaves, new blossoms.

“Life does not stand still…” he murmured, squeezing your hand ever so slightly, a warmth spreading in his chest as your eyes met his and your lips curled into a soft, adorable gleam. 

“And what do you think about that?” you held your breath, your heart swelling with pride as you urged Seonghwa to go on.

“I find it to be… like love itself. Even in the quietude of the branches left bare, the fondness and awareness of knowing they had once been home to thousands of petals makes it worth it. And, as such, they never leave, turning into a transformative forever.”

The heavens sighed, a strong breeze washing over the park, your two forms settled on the wooden bench, the shedding canopies of white. Blossoms erupted in a visual catharsis, and scattered across the earth as far as the eye could see. The final flickers of this beautiful season’s embers. And yet, it did not feel like a dismal, all-encompassing finale, but rather the end of the beginning. While Seonghwa did not know what this renaissance would bring, and what florescence shall be his future guide, he was confident that in his newfound tranquillity, you were the reason why loving was easy. Why love was like being brought back to life.

“It is easy to believe in ‘the end’. And takes an infinite, intrinsic love, transcending time and seasons to believe in ‘forever’.” you agreed, and gazed at the scene before you. The glimmering waters of a pond - the sky’s mirror, dotted with brilliant ethereal cotton, soothed by the wind’s caresses. You and Seonghwa watched on as the floral dancers cascaded down in their closing act, elegantly waving their farewells before settling on lapping foam. 

Slowly, he was learning the intricacies, the little things that formed a delicate equilibrium that was adoration, devotion, enamourment. Equanimous, Seonghwa wanted nothing more than to live in this ever-changing present, and, with you, love the beauty and the silence after it had fallen.

[her-acts-of-cruelty]

HIII i love eddie so much i have this scenario bouncing around my poor little brain about like him sitting out in the rain because he doesn’t want to be in the house and the reader who’s the neighbor that moved in after eddie went to jail and they like invite him inside and give him some soup and tea :-) give that man a nice cozy time. he deserves it

HI SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I HAVE BEEN A BUSY LITTLE BOY!

I really liked the idea, I've done a little spin on how I thought Eddie deserved at least one friend who tried to help him. Am I exploring the concept of him being gay and leaving his wife for me? That's for me to know. I'm hoping this reaches the right audience, because I love men and men should love me too.

Also if you have more ideas you should send them. For chatacter ai bots or fics.

Synopsis: bringing an old friend in for a cuppa after seeing him get caught in the rain. Pre established friendship and !???

Cw: some language, mention of beer, but overall its tame

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

You'd never really had a significant reputation in Chadder. You drifted outside the community, maybe it was your age, but you never really felt close with the village.

Aside from Eddie that is.

You used to work next door to his garage, in the little shop. Passing each other each frosty morning turned into combining your routes. Your radiating presence most certainly a stark contrast from the long and dull day he had alone. So walking to work with each other soon turned into going for a pint together to celebrate the day.

You'd exchange stories, little artifacts from each others day. Sometimes there'd be gossip, things You'd over heard in the shop with the things his loose lipped customers would mumble as he worked on their cars. Other times he'd tell you about his kids, what they'd been up to at school and how proud he was of his growing girls. You two made it work.

That was, until he disappeared.

His incarceration was much to your surprise and it seemed you were the only one who had your doubts. You chalked that up to why the residents went a little quiet when you walked by.

Things became a lot slower without Eddie. Your routine had suddenly been lost, your source of the news gone- it seemed as though you were well and truly alone.

By whatever sick twist of luck though, five years had passed and Eddie was out.

Your stomach churned when you first lay eyes on him, your body unsure of how to react- so you did the one logical thing. You stayed away from him.

You avoided him like the plague, worried about all the stewing feelings that had blossomed in his absence. It ate up at you quickly though, the way his face dropped when you turned around and marched off made you wish you could choke up your insides and never dream again.

It went on like this for a couple weeks. Now that spring was approaching, the rainy season was in full swing. You hid in your house most of the time anyway, but hearing the sudden large rain drops on the windows made your expression drop. You bolted outside to grab your drying washing off the line that'd been put up in your front garden. As you cursed yourself, something out the corner of your eye stuck out.

Eddie.

Alone.

You bit your lip and brought your things inside, tossing them carelessly into a basket by the washing machine. The rain wasn't slowing down, its aggressive downpour had you praying Eddie had left that spot and rushed home.

When you checked out the window though, he was still slumped against one of the black metal fences- trying his best to smoke a drooping cigarette.

Your stomach did another backflip as you decided what to do. You couldn't just leave him there to freeze, could you? You got a few more curses out of your system before kicking off some shoes and marching into the rain.

"Eddie?"  You called out as you approached him, the look of panic across his face told you all you needed to hear.

"(Name)- I didn't know you uh- it's raining why are you out 'ere?" He scrambled up off the floor, feeling sorry for himself as he came to his full height.

"Could ask you the same, what's going on? Shouldn't you be with the wife?"

He winced, "ah- its just a bit right now"

You nodded, watching him slowly get more soaked, "you should come back for a cuppa yknow, you're gonna catch your death out here like that"

He wanted to fight you, wanted you to know he belonged to be out here, fighting for warmth like the animal he is.

But also he wanted a warm cup of tea.

So he picked himself off the ground and looked down at you, expecting you to lead. You sigh once more and gesture for him to follow you back inside your house.

He kicks his boots off at the door and let  his eyes wander the walls. It's almost like he'd left his troubles outside, the way a childlike wonder filled him. You hadn't changed much since he'd left, and he liked that.

You'd already made it to the kitchen, working on tea, "Eddie? I might have a few things of yours in my wardrobe soon if you want something a hit warmer to slip into?" His gaze left the walls and met yours, nodding softly, "Yeah that'd uhm-" "Where they usually are, help yourself," You gestured for him for him head upstairs.

A light must have turned on, maybe this was the first sense of familiarity he'd been allowed to chase

. Gentle footsteps made their way down the floor and the hulking man now standing before you in some grey joggers and tee.

"Thank you- you don't know how much it-" "I heard about what happened, I didn't know how to approach it," you blurted, your body clearly wanting to rid the words from  it's festering wound.

He furrowed his brows a little, "is that why you've you've avoiding me like everyone else?"

"It's not like everyone else, you know it never has been-"

"Then what is it?"

"Eddie your tea is going cold-" you tried to shrug him off.

That wasn't the answer he was looking for, you saw it in the way his expression slowly sunk, "do you think I'm a monster too?"

"No! It's just- fucking hell Eddie, I just haven't been well without you." He slowly sat down onnthe couch at that.

Silence choked the room as you took the note to sit beside him. He pulled you close, fingertips caressing your side as he grabbed you. His head rested on yours and for a moment you felt... at peace? You're not sure what it was, but you sighed and got closer.

"You know I didn't uhm-" he tried to break the silence, an attempt to reassure you.

"Yeah I do, tried to get you proven innocent."

He didn't seem to surprised by the notion, "thank you."

[lephamquynhnhu]

Panacea

Chapter 2: Storm before the Blushing Morn

Dan Feng x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS/ TAGS: The reader has a default name, OOC, mentioned of blood. (This is a work of fanfiction, events are not aligned or relevant to the original work)

Word count: ~2k

Summary: He met you on a drizzling day when hydrangea fully bloomed on its field. Amidst the sea of mild pastel petals, Dan Feng never thought the flowery domain that intertwined your fate was the precise thing withered with you. They said he was a dragon, a hero, a sinner, but never a person with love, hatred, sorrow, or joy like everyone else in this world. However, it was a demi-truth. He committed the cardinal sin because of you.

Note: Do you like...pain?

He revisited on a sprinkle day, his signature ambergris aroma mixed with the freshness of humid forest note. You did not know why, but the High Elder seemed to be into rainy days because every time he came, water definitely showered outside. It has been weeks since you met him for the first time, and thanks to the frequency of his visits, you learn that the nonchalant Imbibitor Lunae gradually displays the other side. Although Dan Feng never clearly shows his emotion, you can tell his mood through the draconic tail. When he feels happy, his tail swings side to side and stands still as its owner is interested in or concentrates on whatever your information. In addition to your surprise, he sometimes even punchlines on your venting stories.  

Under the Mulan's foliage, you slowly gaze at the kaleidoscope sky after rain. A mid-summer breeze that carries the scent of white flowers softly blows through, driving the ripples to gleam on the water's surface. 

Immersing in your haze, you forget what was going to do until the Long Scion gives out his curiousness about the bush of Datura Metel in a corner garden. 

"I have studied an organic pesticide which extracts from their active agents." - The elegant smell of lotus still glistens in the morning dew perfumes in your lungs when nudging into them. Suddenly, you shove the flower cart into his arms and tell him to wait for you at a nearby wooden bench. Dan Feng thinks eternal Spring never leaves this sunlit Shangri-La as he wipes the Mulan's petals out of the seat because the flora seems to blossom in four seasons. 

While idly watching Koi fish under silky leafages, the High Elder does not notice you snicker behind. A forgotten raindrop stagnates on the lotus leaf trail like a lost pearl, arousing the quiet pond like his emerald orbs rising in astonishment. Amid the multi-colored palette, Dan Feng finds your smile is the most gorgeous flower when you abruptly pop up with a posy of Emperical Peony. The beam you flashed him still lingering in his mind as Dan Feng reluctantly takes the gift. Your hands lightly brush together via the exchange, reminding him of the existence of those black gloves since he has not seen you take them off once. Nevertheless, he lets it pass and dances his slender finger around the ombre corolla instead.  

"Thank you, Yi Ting." - Imbibitor Lunae softly mutters under his breath, and as the lost ray shines through frost winter, a faint smile stretches on his usually glacial face. 

On that day in the summer season, Dan Feng realizes that he does not return to your place because of its spectacular. He wants to revisit the Shangri-La because he likes spending time with you.

On an Autumn afternoon painted in a burnt orange hue and wafting with a ripe persimmon scent, you are leisurely proceeding to the Dan Feng's residence while absentmindedly grazing a bunch of white chrysanthemums in hand. Looking at the High Elder Statue at the Dragonvista Rain Hall, your mind winds up reminiscing about the previous conversation.

"Yes?" - Transfering your focus toward his position, you represented the confusion as if hearing him wrong. The quiet Long Scion might befriend you and be your custom guest, but it was an extraordinary phenomenon since Dan Feng has not asked you to deliver flowers to his estate before. He patiently repeated the order while reading his scroll in one hand, and the other halfway was lifting the teacup with expressionless features. Looking at his relaxing manner, you unknowingly realize this house became Imbibitor Lunae's office. 

When immersing thought in the past, you are suddenly pulled back to the present by a low thud of a light collision with a follow-up painful cry. Tears are bubbling in the Vidyadhara child's doe eyes as she feels the pain. You swiftly support her to stand up and inspect the body while trying to comfort the child, which results in two news in this situation. A good one is a scratch, and the bad is her cry getting louder even though you used up all your tricks. 

"Pain, Pain goes away!" - You singsong to conjure an apple lollipop appearing in hand, and tears stop falling as she eyes your apologetic smile with compensation. When you clean the last drop of trail wet on her chubby cheekbones and apologize with head patting, other Vidyadhara children circle you to admire the little show. A defeated sigh escapes your breath as you look at their twinkle glims and secretly count the remaining candy's quantity. Unfortunately, in addition to your trouble, with an invitation from a brunette-haired boy, the group of children tugs your sleeves to play blind man's buff with their puppy eyes. 

"Alright, but I won't be lenient." - You confidently state when settling the bouquet on a stone bench. And you keep your line.

Once darkness invades the vision, you start to track down the children. By listening to their footsteps and sensing the airflow, you catch all of them except Ma Tian, the boy with sheen eyes who cleverly outclasses your skill. Finally, thanks to your florist's exceptional technique, you discreetly declare the endgame while detecting his fabric detergent in the wind's stream. 

"Catch ya, little brat!" - You happily exclaim your victory when circling your arms around Ma Tian's figure. However, you immediately realize something is wrong as a familiar ambergris cologne lingers on your nose, and you are hugging a lean body. Hurriedly removing the blindfold, you see Dan Feng mimic your shocked expression while Ma Tian lolls out his head behind the Long Scion. 

"How long do you intend to embrace me?" - The High Elder clears his throat with a light reprimand nuance laces in but does not seem annoyed. If there is anything you would admire about Imbibitor Lunae besides his glorious feats, the quick recovery from an embarrassing situation is one of them. As soon as you two detach, Dan Feng grabs the bouquet and leads you out of the Scalegorge Waterscape, leaving the cheerful goodbyes of those children behind. You do not understand why Dan Feng is rushing in his strides until you see a pink tint on his tip ears. 

When the sunset light turns golden on the greenery beneath, which gets everything basked in the look of burnished copper, you two arrive at the military memorial area where illustrious warriors rest in peace. Passing through hundreds of black marble graves glides their name, Dan Feng unravels your holding hands as he crunches down to place the chrysanthemum bouquet in front of a stone-carved Bai Heng. 

You know that name. She was once a High-Cloud quintet member and a gifted pilot who sacrificed in the third Denizen of Abundance. People say Imbibitor Lunae is never a person with love, hatred, sorrow, or joy like everyone else in this world, but now you can shout out they are all wrong because of the unfathomable somber besieges in his orbs.

"Life is so short when it comes to mortal organisms'' - He mouths in a calm and unwavering tone after a long silence - "No matter what you do, they definitely die." With his back turned to you, it is challenging to figure out its meaning, yet you can degust a longing taste entangled in that clause. Forgotten fragments of sunlight slowly die on your heels while trekking to the way out, and the crescent vaguely takes place in the saturated navy sky. Although the High Elder rarely shared his thoughts with someone else, you hardly agree with this viewpoint.

 "Even if it is short-lived, even if fate sometimes turns tragic, limited longevity creates the beauty of lives and valuableness because we learn to cherish life, and not all farewells are regretful. Sometimes, death is also an extrication, and I believe we will rendezvous on another horizon." 

Dan Feng follows your graze to the glitter crepuscule, causing the mellow ray to cradle his features. - "Someday, you also turn into ashes?" - A sliver of bitterness in the question soon morphed into those cyan irises as you confirmed with your bright smile. When the two of you pass through the gate, Imbibitor Lunae abruptly informs you of his next arrival with special requests that combine with osmanthus cake and jasmine tea. It is the first time he proactively reserves in advance because Dan Feng neither notices his attendance nor does he appear on sunny days.  

"Do I have to wait for the rain to meet you?" - Only one sentence, it has changed your relationship ever since. You guess that might be the way he expresses his feelings. 

In a dream, I see myself in my childhood state with a bouquet of blue hydrangeas. Strolling by the seashore, the shells confound in golden sand rustles underneath my bare feet as I search for someone. End then, an abnormal bloodred butterfly hovers around to lead me toward that person; we have passed zillions of landscapes and territories, from glacial rivers where white snow permanently coats mounts to the vast rug crafted by countless vivid blossoms. From the nameless barren deserts with magnificent starry nights crown aloft to the rich prairie possesses coast breezes. I keep going, going.

"Hydrangeas is the soulmate of rains." A distant voice echoes from those feeble wings in the entire journey. It feels like Amber Periods have flown until we reach a field with full-bloom hydrangeas that unfold our presence. Suddenly, my companion disappears into thin air, and I notice a nostalgic glimpse waving his hand from afar as if he has been waiting for me for an astronomical long time. 

"You got my wish fulfilled... Thank you, my comrade." - The boy says in a gentle demeanor. His blue eyes shine brighter than any stars I have ever known, and he also disappears like the bloodred butterfly. His silhouette dissipates into thousands of flower petals as he flashes a warm smile toward me. 

"Wait, H...H..." - A tsunami of impuissant waves brews into my heart when I try to call his name, but none of the syllables come out, and tears continuously cascade from my eyes while I witness the lost world fading.

You wake up from a soothing noise of hot steam oozing out of your old kettle and forget the dream cleanly. "You had a fever." - A low tone voice diagnoses as soon as Dan Feng senses your consciousness. Slightly lifting the heavy eyelids, you see him situating beside your headboard with a botanical book in hand. The glorious sun is far high hanging in the sky to pour its honeyed light through your window, which informs you to oversleep impliedly. You do not notice tears rolling down until the Long Scion points out in skimming your complexion and uses his thumb to caress the trail wetness. Sensing no engagement in conversation, Dan Feng shifts his hand to cover your eyesight and tenderly leans forward.

You only feel a pillowy touch on your forehead afterward. 

"Please do not leave the bed today, and take the medicine on time because this is a prescription from the High Elder." - He faux-orders when rendering your vision. Astoundedly grazing the lingering sensation, you did not know that Imbibitor Lunae has a bizarre way of assessing the temperature. 

Winter at Shangri-La never experiences snow, yet it takes some seasonal features such as the gloomy weather all day with northeast wind seething through every direction. Inspecting the murky clouded skyward, you tug the scarf closer when your breaths dimly turn into silver smoke. As soon as you attempt to lift the white lily cart, a hot stream of fluid smelling like rusty iron runs down your chin, which the soil absorbs its falling drops. When you bring your hand to clean the water, it takes a moment to process it is blood. Your irises squeeze as you dumbfoundedly stare at the ivory gloves tainted with the crimson hue. Just as you intend to step forward, the surrounding spins around as though Earth and Heaven are twitching position, and you kneel only to cough out blood that permeates the fabric. The pollen sparkles in the ether after the collapse, and the shivering lily's petals in chilly winds are the last things in your blurring vision.