thewitchandtheassassin · 1 day ago
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Honest (Agatha Harkness x Reader)
Summary: “Lady, I’m the manager and the only employee today. Get the hell out of my store.”
Words: 1070
Warnings: Language, suggestiveness??
A/N: I hate that lady and wish Rio had punted her into the sun. That's all.
-X-
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From the moment you noticed the white-haired woman storming towards your counter, you knew you were in for a horrible interaction. Plastering a fake, cheerful smile, you greeted her.
“Good afternoon! Did you -”
“This place is a dump,” she hissed, slamming her goods onto the counter. “If my daughter was working in this place at your age, I would disown her. Are your parents proud of you?”
Blinking at her owlishly, you bristled with choked back fury. Truthfully, this wasn’t your normal job - nor was this your only job - but you were covering a shift for your mother, who’d taken your father to the hospital but couldn’t afford to close the small “mom and pop” shop. Being here was a favor, not your career, but some old, miserable bitch didn’t deserve your explanations and you weren’t going to dictate a dissertation of your life to a complete stranger.
“Do you need anything else?” you asked brusquely, scanning the few items before placing them in paper bags.
“Oh god, are you one of those hippies who forces paper over plastic? Get over it. Give me something that isn’t going to rip!” she hissed, digging out her wallet before her eyes go wide at the total. “With such horrible service, you’re still going to charge me that without some sort of compensation for my treatment? I’m certain you have some coupons or sale codes back there that you can use to fix your terrible mistakes. My god, do you need a roadmap?”
“H-horrible service? Ma’am, I…” you paused, looking at the stuff tucked into bags before shaking your head. You’d rather offer your parents money than accept this woman’s cash. “Get out.”
“I beg your pardon?” she sputtered, eyes narrowing in a manner you were certain she used to intimidate teenagers at the supermarket. “You can’t speak to me like this! I want your manager.”
Sliding the bags out of reach, you glared at her with unbridled disdain. “Lady, I’m the manager and the only employee today. Get the hell out of my store.”
“How dare you! I’ve been coming here for years! I’m good friends with the owner and when he hears about this…”
Your snort cut through her ramblings. “Oh, you know him, huh? Well, I’ll be sure to let my mother know her ‘good friend’ came in here acting like a rude, entitled, demented demon from the pits of hell instead of a civilized human being so that she knows to bar you from the shop. Anything else I can do for you before I call the sheriff - an actual good friend - to come escort you off the property?”
Mouth agape, you’d never seen a grown woman look so aghast before and truthfully, you didn’t give a shit. You weren’t some fresh-faced eighteen year old she could push around and bully.
Someone needed to tell her a thing or two and good news, you had the time and the attitude to do just that.
“I need those -“
Slamming your hand onto the counter, your smile grew unsettlingly wide. “Well, bless your heart, guess you better go find somewhere else to get ‘em, huh?”
-X-
After your interaction with the woman the day before, you had little interest in keeping the shop open for your mother another day, but as she tearfully explained she couldn’t return until the next morning, you swallowed your distaste and did as she asked.
“It’s one more day,” you mumbled to yourself, forehead resting in your hand as you sat on the lone stool. “Just one more day.”
You had nearly dozed off when the bell above the door signaled the arrival of your only patron so far. Glancing up, you greeted the dark-haired woman with a faint smile and wave.
“Howdy, how can I help you?”
The woman slid her sunglasses up to the top of her head, pursing her lips in an odd way that had you singling in on the softest looking mouth you’d ever seen. She was beautiful and mysterious and goddammit, you were so gay.
“Do you happen to know who was working yesterday?” she inquired, earning a slow brow arch.
“Yeah…” you drawled out slowly, carefully. “It was me.”
“Oh thank god, I’m glad you’re not some sad teenager who cried after she left,” she muttered, eyes locking on yours. “You had the unfortunate displeasure of speaking with my mother yesterday and I came to apologize. Not so much for her sake, but for my own because your shop sells fabulous face care products I can’t get anywhere else in this godforsaken town and I do not want to end up banned from here.”
Blinking slowly, you nodded after a moment. “Uh, yeah, no, you’re fine. I never woulda guessed she was your mother. She always like that?”
“Cantankerous and miserable? Yes. Has been my whole life.”
“Christ, I feel bad for you,” you blurted, eyes widening instantly as she began to cackle. “Uh, sorry, that was supposed to stay in my head.”
Her lips curled into a wicked smile and it left your insides full of butterflies.
“I like a girl who’s honest,” she teased, offering a hand. “Agatha Harkness.”
You shook her hand, marveling in the smooth skin as you absently gave your name in return. You couldn’t help the way your eyes drifted to her lips before fluttering back up to her gaze.
“I saw that little glance - you’re not as sneaky as you think,” Agatha purred, delighting in the warmth that flooded your cheeks. “What time do you get off… work?”
Glancing at the clock, 5:23 stared back at you tauntingly. The place had been dead all day and at this point, you were just wasting electricity.
Throwing caution to the wind, you shrugged, smirking at Agatha conspiratorially. “Right now if someone gives me a good enough reason.”
“How about you buy me a drink as an apology for my horrible childhood and if it goes well, maybe I’ll find a way to thoroughly apologize for all the trouble you went through yesterday?”
The sparkle in her eye and the way she stared at your lips pointedly for a moment left your heart racing, beating like horse hooves against your ribs. You were nodding before you even realized it, running through your mental checklist for closing the store.
“Give me ten minutes.”
-X-
You closed it in six.
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tan1shere · 1 day ago
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Venting
A/n: I'm writing this since I didn't feel like I fully executed a request so the anon who requested "New Chapter" this is for you angel ! You get double bc I'm a perfectionist... anyways hope you all enjoy !
Warnings - angsty ? Fluff and comfort ! || masterlist
What was it. Why was this feeling consuming you. Why, why. Why. You wanted to know, it was making you miserable all the God damn time. Frustrating you even. You hated being like this, around your friends, family. And especially your girlfriend. She had noticed the slight change in you recently. In your tone, mood. Attitude. You were sleeping more, eating a little less. But you seemed to be ok. Nothing was bothering you, that you knew of. You just felt glued to the comfortable bed.
It all started when you and her went over to Maggie and Patrick's for dinner. They had invited you both. Knocking on the door and being greeted by Maggie. "Hi girls." You give her a small smile. "Hi mama." Billie says, going to hug her. You notice her looking at you. "Are you ok sweetheart, you look a little unwell." Your brows furrow. "Yeah I'm perfectly fine."
Earlier
"First time you've probably left this bed this week." You bite the inside of your lip at that remark. Why did that bother you. Why. "Yup, probably the best thing." She then looks at you. "Speaking of that, is everything alright with you? You've seemed off the past few weeks. Like at Finneas' you weren't eating much." You shrugged. "Well it was only snacks and I wasn't as hungry." She saw through you always, she knew something was up.
-
"That's good then. Come come, I started cooking." And as you were about to Billie pulls you aside. "See, even my mother sees it-" "I'm fine, Bills. Let's just enjoy tonight." She sighs, following behind you. The dinner was normal until it wasn't- Your replies were dry. Not intentionally but you accidentally came off cold. What was going on with you. It was making you angry. But all you wanted to do was ignore it. Ignore these ransom feelings. Billie end up giving you a look at something you say. "Y/n." She says, making you look at her.
"Can we talk?" You shrug, getting up when she does. "Whats up?" She puts her hands in her pockets. "What do you mean?" She gives you a confused look. "You've been dry towards my mother the whole evening, somethings going on." You sigh, going to go. "I'm fine." She grabs your wrist. "You're lying." "Billie.-" She now sighs. "Talk. To me." - "I promise you I'm fine I'm just a bit tired, please can we move on and go back in." Not one word did she believe.
She dumps the keys once she gets inside. The slight tension of what had happened, lingering. You immediately go up into your shared room, wanting the comfort of the bed again. "Y/n!" She says as she sprints after you. "Hey, now we are home can we please talk." - "Billie, there's nothing to talk about, I just wanna get into bed." She scoffs slightly. Making your heart twinge. You ignore it, changing and getting under the covers.
"Just talk to me! Something is clearly wrong!" "Well it's a little hard to when I don't even know what the fuck is wrong. I don't know why I'm becoming like this. It's been worrying me for the past few weeks. So no, I can't talk to you. When there's literally nothing to talk about!" She stares at you. Processing, then seeing your bloodshot eyes as they pool with tears. You look at her confused, unaware of both things. "What?" She even wanted to cry, hating that obviously something was bothering you deep down.
"Billie?" You question. She grabs your hands gently. "When did this start?" You shake your head really confused for some reason. "Huh?" "When. Did this start baby." Your eyebrows rest at the name, finding a comfort in it. Something you haven't been feeling lately. Comfortable. "Uhm, it was maybe 2 weeks ago nearly 3." She tries so hard to remember what happened back that far. Thinking, thinking. Thinking. Until she realized. "The article, everything after that." When it was finally said outloud you felt like crying.
It hit you, she was right it was the article. But you were fine after it, you didn't even care what people said about you, you knew your worth. Or did you? Maybe it was in the back of your mind all those tucked away feelings. "They're all just jealous." She assures. When something bubbles inside you. "It wasn't just the stuff they said about me. It was all the other stuff." You start to fully sob. It truly getting you like it should've all along, why has it taken so long. "All the stuff they said about our relationship.. how we wouldn't last, how- just because I'm not famous you'd eventually leave me."
The thought makes you cry more. "I guess I started believing them... In the back of my mind." Her eyes soften, reaching out for you. "Baby."
"That'll never, ever happen." Your tears flow heavy but her hands quickly go to wipe them. "What if you get sick of me Bill, I'm not spec-" She shakes her head immediately. "No. Because you're the most special thing in my life. If you weren't in it, fuck. I'd be lost. You keep me in check always when I'm lost in life. And now I'm determined to do the same for you." Your heart melts and you smile, finally that smile she loved was back. "Theres my girl. One day at a time we will get you back to your old self." - "I love you Billie thank you."
"No, thank you. For being mine."
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amywritesthings · 12 hours ago
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I love the Hallo-sleepover idea! Can I request "my friend abandoned me at this halloween party and I don't know anyone. But you look as miserable as I feel" at a bonfire with Levi (:
hallo-sleepover '24!
of course!! this was the most requested prompt in 5 separate asks, so of course i wanted to present you a little levi on halloween day. xo hope you enjoy!
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homemade.
pairing: levi ackerman x reader word count: 1.2k tags: modern au, adult language, halloween parties, first meet, levi ackerman as ghostface, reader as bride of frankenstein, mention of annie as your friend credit: dividers by @saradika-graphics
read on ao3.
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Everyone’s too loud. The Halloween music keeps repeating.
Not even swirling the bright orange plastic cup in your hand can salvage the separation of pineapple and white rum.
At least the warm crackle of the open fire pit in the backyard feels nice.
You’re not sure why you agreed to come to this Halloween party with Annie — you knew she was going to see one solo cup and run for the pong table to demolish the competition — but you’d worked tirelessly on your costume this year.
Not that you had anywhere to go to show it off — cons got too expensive this year, work days blurred into nights, and before you knew it the date of October 31 was sitting impatiently on your doorstep. 
Waiting on your front porch handing out candy to little ones wasn’t a bad idea.
Trick or Treaters are cute.
(Except you can’t imagine any of the kiddos willingly taking a Snickers bar from the hands of a screen-accurate rendition of the Bride of Frankenstein.)
So you'd get dressed up, fill a pumpkin bucket, and hang out for the night, right?
Wrong.
That plan wasn’t acceptable to your friend, Annie Leonhart.
The moment she arrived at your doorstep in full costume, Annie acted as if staying home was a cardinal sin.
“You didn’t have a plan for this?” Annie asked incredulously. “Are you joking, dude? Come on. This costume is sick.”
Before you stood an elaborate (see: terrifying) rendition of Lady Death: Annie’s blue eyes were sunken in by copious black eyeshadow, her lips cut into the illusion of teeth under a terrifying black veil obscuring most of her face. On her body was what looked to be a dyed thrift store wedding dress, dark as the night sky above.
She gestures to your wrapped mummified dress and large cylindrical white-and-gray wig — all hand-sewn, all homemade — with equally blackened fingertips, gooey with fake blood.
“What?” you murmur, looking down at your dress like something has gone astray.
“What?!” she repeats with a snort. “Oh, no. You’re not wasting this on sitting on a porch. C’mon, we’re going to Reiner’s thing.”
“Annie,” you groan, giving her a pleading look. “You know I hate parties.”
“Yeah? And I hate idiots who waste good costumes,” she retorts, grabbing your hand with hers to fly into your house. “What do you need? Grab your keys and phone, we’re going.”
(Yeah, you’re used to her bulldozing by now.)
It’s what brought you here — stuck at a bonfire, waiting for an appropriate time to ditch and call a Lyft back to your house.
Annie’s no doubt in the semifinals of the competition, so you can’t imagine you’ll see her for the rest of the night.
It’s fine.
It’s fine, you’ll just wait another ten and—
A flash of black clothes shuffles past you to flop unceremoniously into a lawn chair. With a grunt, their legs extend towards the bonfire, the tip of their boots tapping the brick surrounding the pit. 
Slumping into the chair, you recognize the costume right away: it isn’t a traditional Ghostface given the dark denim jeans and the black henley shirt with rolled-up sleeves, but the elongated white and black ghoulish mask is unmistakable.
Unable to help yourself, you watch as the fire illuminates the veins in their forearms. His gloved hand palms the entire mask and rips it off of his face, causing your whole body to have a hot flash.
Oh.
Oh, no.
The Ghostface at the party is hot.
Immediately his bluish-gray eyes find you when he sits back in his chair once more. The black fringe of his hair clings to his forehead like the mask had been suffocating him to a sweat, complimenting his high cheekbones. 
Lips parted, you note the way he gives your costume a once over before speaking in the most rumbled, honey silk voice.
“Bride of Frank, right?”
Blinking twice, you continue to stare. When a few beats of silence pass, the stranger’s chin drops closer to his chest, brow expectant with an arch.
“You’re looking at me like I missed a reboot this year.”
Wait.
He’s talking to you.
Clearing your throat, you sit up taller and absently reach for your tall wig to make sure it’s in place. 
“No, you’re right. The Bride from the 1935 film.” 
You try to smile, though it gets lost somewhere in your anxiety. 
“And you’re Ghostface, right? From the movie Scream?”
The stranger nods. 
“Sort of. Found a mask half-off at the store, but I wasn’t wearing a damn nightgown.”
“The black clothes still fit the look,” you try to reassure, and he snorts.
“You’re far more forgiving than the Michael Myers I came here with,” he states, “but that friend abandoned my ass at this Halloween party, and I don’t know anyone else here, so.”
Crossing his legs by the ankles and his arms over his chest, he continues to observe your costume. From the flicker of the fire, his expression almost seems appreciative of your work.
“You did a damn good job,” he adds, “which is a shame, because you look as miserable as I feel.”
The surprise praise causes your face to heat up.
“I wouldn’t say miserable.”
“Bored?”
“Oh, definitely bored.”
He snorts. “Yeah, me too. I hate this shit.”
“Parties?”
“Halloween parties,” the stranger clarifies. “If everyone showed up to this shit dressed as elaborately as you, then I’d probably eat my own words.” He tosses a thumb back to the house. “I can’t tell you how many goddamn half-baked Jokers there are in that house.”
Somewhere in the midst of his rant is another compliment.
Toying with one of the ends of the mummified dress you wear, you find yourself shrugging a shoulder. “Not everyone has busybody time like me to make a costume, to be fair.”
“Wait.” He sits up more, sitting the Ghostface mask on his lap. “You made that?”
When you nod, you feel your body match the bonfire’s temperature. Annie gave you compliments by the plenty, but that was Annie. Everyone else at this party had been too busy getting drunk or too occupied to notice.
But he did.
“How’d you do it?” he asks with what seems to be genuine curiosity, though you wave it off.
“It’s boring.”
“Doubt it.”
“No, it really is,” you state, but the stranger leans closer with intrigue. You can’t move away, too mesmerized by how damn gorgeous he is. “And knowing me, I could ramble on for hours, so—”
“Hey, I have time.”
The man clears his throat and holds up the Ghostface mask as if it’ll somehow convince you.
“Might as well make the most of this damn thing while we’re stuck here, right? If anything, you’d be saving me from another goddamn Scary Movie reference inside, so you're doing me a favor by rambling for hours.”
The mention brings a slow and relaxed smile to your lips.
Right.
The ye ol’ wasssssaaaaaap to anyone with a Ghostface mask.
“Fine,” you relent, and you swear your mind is playing tricks on you when it sees a half-smile form on his own face, but the fire swipes it away just as fast. “But at least tell me your name — unless you want me to call you Ghostface.”
The man shakes his head, the fringe of his black hair following with him.
“Levi,” he introduces, softer this time. “Just call me Levi.”
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anotherpapercut · 1 year ago
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just officially sent in my resignation for my fucking childhood dream workplace
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ivypond11 · 9 months ago
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i've been obsesing over a tlt twilight au solely because of the silly edit with harrow seeing alecto alla bella seeing edward and.
it's so silly and dumb but gideon being the vampire and ianthe being the werewolf and they both obsessively pin over the weird loner wet rat harrow that just moved into town. i wanna say camilla, palamedes, dulcinea (the real one), protesilaus, jeannemary and isaac are part of the same family, all vampires, with abigail and magnus being the parental figures (basically the cullens). the third and second houses i'm thinking are all the werewolves, maybe the eight too. i just love the idea of ianthe and coronabeth being raised to maybe one day both take over the pack until they find out coronabeth is in fact not a werewolf. john and all the remaining of the first would be the volturi ofc but all the cavaliers would actually be alive? i haven't thought that far.
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la0hu · 24 days ago
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masha broke a bowl by accident in the kitchen and when i brought her the broom and dustpan and asked her if she was okay, she looked at me, straight-faced, and said, "no, i'm not okay." and then i realized she meant that she still feels emotionally abused by the house somehow, and i felt a flash of anger because i am so sick of her shit, and i rephrased, "are you physically injured?" and she gave me another look and said "i'm physically okay." and then when connie asked from her room "what's going on?" masha replied "nothing new." like fuck off ohhhhhhhh my god
#p#i'm actually sick of making room for people like this#it's not me being kind or understanding. it's me being a doormat and driving myself crazy for not making everyone happy 24/7#would masha feel better if i continually approached her and invited her to things and forgave her every time she acted like this?#yeah she would. and i can imagine the emotional place she's in right now is a terrible one and i empathize#which is why i feel guilty for being too tired to do the above. but also? but ALSO???#in her head she will always be the victim. everything we do she will always interpret in bad faith; choose the most unkind interpretation#it's gabe all over again. they live in an alternate reality from me and from the rest of the house and it is impossible to reconcile the tw#and i get this feeling of anger and a part of me thinks of it as me 'letting myself be a bitch' but it's not actually that#it's literally self-respect. it's me being so burnt out that i don't have the energy to pretend this is somehow my problem#the whole meme of 'aren't you tired of being nice. don't you wanna go apeshit' that's about being inauthentic not abt being nice#sure authentic/inauthentic is a loaded therapy term now but it's just accurate. i should be able to NOT do things if i'm not moved to#i don't feel like talking to her. i don't feel like inviting her to things. i don't feel like giving an apology for an imaginary wrong#she can hate me for the rest of time. she can be miserable for the rest of the year while she stays here. i don't fucking care#she is making herself miserable. it is absolutely 100% on her. in any way that matters it is up to her to fix her own shit#i am so sick of this idea that somehow through the healing power of kindness and friendship everyone can be lifted up#because actually some people refuse to be helped. and it is so hard for me to reconcile this with my worldview#but it's been proven to me over and over again that this is the truth.#i guess it doesn't necessarily apply to material realities but i think it does for emotional ones#but even that division between the material and the social/emotional feels false to me. they're always related#maybe the actual lesson is that you as an individual and sometimes even as a community#have limited resources. and while the world's ills could theoretically be solved with infinite generosity and kindness#you cannot singlehandedly make that happen.#and also if the other party isn't receptive there's only so much you can do.#god i've written like a fucking essay trying to justify to myself why i'm angry at masha bc i want to be validated for it#even though i know by now that i actually don't need to explain myself to anyone -- even to myself
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puppmeo · 3 months ago
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And the cycle begins anew . As it does every week
#vent continued in tags sorry gang#every fucking monday ma ends up pissed and yelling about SOMETHING#sorry that im taking the meds that actually help and im not miserable and in pain all the time and throwing up all the time and i didn't#hear the baby making a mess at four in the morning . shocker that the meds that knock me out would prevent me from waking up to hear that#and its not like i can even be upset that she's mad . i was mad . i am mad . i did my best to clean it up#and its not like he only got into her shit. he got into my shit too. he ruined and wasted my stuff too.#when he was able to get into my room and destroy things all the time it was always “dont act like that#he doesn't understand . you cant be mad at him#why would you leave it out if you didn't want it destroyed“ as if i had any other fucking option#maybe if i didn't have fuckin . 8 sheets of drywall (?)#two metal floor vents and a fucking DOOR just sitting in my room i'd have space fo put my stuff and i wouldn't bitch about it#he doesn't get into my room anymore because i have a lock that i have to carry the key for around 24/7#but i do myfucking best to keep him from getting into shit but i CANT DO THAT ALL THE TIME#ESPECIALLY NOT AT FOUR IN THE MORNING WHEN HE IS ACTIVELY BEING SNEAKY AND IM SO KNOCKED OUT I COULD WOULD AND HAVE SLEPT THROUGH TORNADO#SIRENS . SHOCKER THAT HES ABLE TO DESTROY SHIT WHEN IM IN SUCH A STATE . WHO COULD'VE PREDICTED THIS .#im trapped here i can never fucking leave jesus christ#i can never leave. what the hell am i gonna do#i cant do this for the rest of my life . i want to move away so bad but i cant even do that#im too disabled to work like i need to to support myself i cant move to another state but its the only way i'd be able to escape this#unless i move to fuckin . chicago or some shit#god i hate it here i hate myself for not being able to handle it and being upset and being dramatic about it all#and i hate myself for being so tired of it because i dont have any excuse and i hate myself for being so upset that im not able to have#a social life and being jealous of my younger coworkers that talk about hanging out with their friends or like . goin to the fucking park#on a weekday and not being constantly messaged about how bad their baby brother is and how they need to come home asap and#how they aren't wrecked by the guilt of being out even on the weekends and i hate that im so jealous of them#and i hate how embarrassing it is that im the only one of my coworkers who doesn't get asked what they're doing on weekdays anymore because#everybody knows exactly what im doing. im staying at home watching the baby#and i hate how humiliated i am every time one of my friends cancels plans last minute and i hate that i lie to my ma about why plans change#god that got long and obnoxious . sorry gang (me rereading my tags later)#puppmeo misery
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foldingfittedsheets · 4 months ago
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When I was in third grade I got Weird with writing. It makes sense in hindsight. Oppressed people find their own ways of carving out space for themselves.
The first bit I did landed me in trouble more immediately. I was given, god knows by who, one of those enormous giant pencils. I loved it. My tiny nine year old body was consumed with love of this pencil that was roughly 1/3 of my height. I insisted that I would only use this pencil in school.
It was an unlucky year to be stricken with whimsy. My third grade teacher was a tyrannical Japanese woman fueled by her dislike of children. I suspect the cultural divide between how she expected children to behave and the reality of American children broke her.
She was three foot nothing and getting berated by her was the first time I’d ever looked down at an adult. I also saw her once standing next to her white 6’ behemoth of a husband and tried to conceptualize how two such disparate people had sex. I never could.
If you think I’m exaggerating her wrath it’s worth noting that my best friend at the time developed a stress disorder from this woman and I fell into a bizarre stutter that cleared up the moment I was out of class. In her classroom breaking down crying was a weekly occurrence.
But despite the frigid conditions, I persevered. I stayed silly. I brought my enormous novelty pencil to class every day. It was an act of rebellion that I sank my teeth into and refused to let go. I could barely sharpen it because its girth defied standard sharpeners the way I defied my teacher. This was my pencil.
When she attempted to confiscate my giant pencil I rose an unholy ruckus. This would not turn into the confiscated holographic Charizard, my tamagotchi, or my little pop frogs that she never returned to me. No. This was my goddamn pencil. There was no rules against enormous novelty pencils and after a heated week of debate she finally conceded I could use the hated thing.
It was stolen by my kleptomaniac friend a week or so after that a fact I’d only discover at the end of the year. But my tiny mind was convinced the evil teacher had stolen it.
In retaliation, instead of resuming normal behavior I decided that I would do all my writing upside down and backwards. No one, least of all myself, could explain why I felt this was necessary. Maybe I felt I’d be cool like a spy, maybe I just needed to buck the teachers hateful authority, or maybe I was just a little autistic kid.
When taking notes or writing essays I’d arrange the paper to be upside down. It may surprise you to know that my penmanship was actually quite decent, albeit I wrote a little more slowly than my classmates. That’s why it took the teacher a while to realize what was going on. There wasn’t a drop in the quality of my writing.
Unsurprisingly she hated it when she found out. She lambasted me both privately and in front of the class to write normally. I asked if my writing was illegible. She had to admit that no, it was not. I shrugged. I did not see a problem.
Like the pencil my new writing fixation was cited as being a distraction to the other children. But similarly she didn’t have an easy way to make me stop. She marked me down, gave me several talking tos, and generally bullied me into writing like everyone else.
All attempts at correcting me simply ran off my back. I had found a way to cope with how miserable she made all of us, by inflicting misery back upon her. I was unswayed for the rest of the year.
When I graduated up into fourth grade and had a teacher I adored it suddenly stopped. I looked at the paper and thought, Well that’s silly, and flipped it the right way round.
I can still write upside down, though, a testament to my worst year in public school.
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lemonlover1110 · 10 months ago
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𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃
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Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader
Summary: Your husband usually calls for you to join him during his bath.
Warnings: MDNI, mentions of Sukuna killing people, rough pregnancy, Sukuna being fluffy (so slightly ooc), reader is mean to Sukuna
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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Ever since you shared the news of your pregnancy with your husband, Sukuna has become more loving. The man who’d talk to you however he wanted, now makes sure to soften his voice when talking to you. He wants to see you every hour of the day, even when you don’t want to see him. Sukuna is seeing how you’re struggling with your pregnancy, and he wants to check up on you constantly.
You’re not too far along that you both know of, yet you’re huge. He grows worried that his selfish want of a child will cause you harm. There’s one person that Sukuna would die for, and it’s you. If something were to happen to you because of himself then he’d– He doesn’t want to think of it.
Lately he’s been asking to take baths with you. At the end of the day, a servant walks into your chambers and informs you, “Lord Sukuna requests for you to join him in his bath, mistress.”
She bows her head to not look at you, scared that she’ll end up like the last servant that dared to look you in the eye. It was Sukuna’s doing because how dare someone look his wife in the eye? You sigh before telling her, “I’ll be there in a second.” 
She stands in the entrance of your room, given orders to not leave without you. Sure, Sukuna requests to see you but it’s an order from him. You don’t have much of an option. 
You follow behind her, and she excuses herself when you’re finally with him. Sukuna lays comfortably in the water, patiently waiting for you to get undressed and join him in the water. He watches as you take off all your garments and walk over to him when you’re completely bare. 
“You need to start leaving me alone, you’re starting to annoy me.” You tell him as you get in the water. Sukuna chuckles, finding it amusing how you’ve completely stopped fearing him. One of his hands caresses you from your breasts to your bump, resting there.
“Now, why are you getting mad at me? I thought you wanted a loving husband?” Sukuna comments, kissing the top of your head. Your hand rests on top of his, lightly squeezing it.
“I wanted one before he got me pregnant. I swear I must be carrying twins– Or the baby also has four arms. I don’t know, I’m just miserable.” You confess, and Sukuna kisses the top of your head again. He really shouldn’t have expected it to be any different. Sukuna’s huge, why would his baby be any different?
“It’s just one and done then?” He asks, and you hum in response. Maybe your answer will be different in a few years, but for now it’s that. He feels a tug on his heartstrings, seeing how much you’re struggling. He’s worried. “Are you holding up okay, though?”
“Not like we could do anything if I wasn’t.” You answer. He’s definitely much softer than your usual husband, and you would’ve loved it if you weren’t carrying a monster child. His hand remains on your stomach, and he feels as his baby kicks while you moan in pain. Sukuna shushes you, feeling as his baby moves.
“I’m trying to feel him! Shut up, woman!” He raises his voice, and you slightly turn to glare at him. A look that would surely kill you if you were anyone else.
“How does me making noise correlate with you feeling the baby! Think, Sukuna! Use your fucking brain.” You’re definitely bolder than usual, which makes him laugh. 
“You’re so beautiful when you’re yelling at me.” He says, grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips so he can kiss it. “I love seeing you demanding and mean. It shows the effect I have on you.”
“Really?” You answer, and he hums in response. There’s no better time to bring up what’s been bugging you than now. “I hate that new servant you took in. Kick her out.”
“And why is that?” He asks. 
“She was looking at you funny.” You respond.
“In the sense?”
“She has the hots for you, and I don’t like it.”
“Hmm… What if I was looking for–” He begins and you glare at him. He doesn’t have much of a sense of humor, but he guesses that’s something that’s off limits when he tries to joke. “Don’t you want me to do more?”
“Like what?” You question, even though you should know your husband better than anyone.
“Kill her.” He answers. 
“Hmm… Up to you.” You reply. You lay comfortably on his chest, feeling as his finger traces lazy circles on your belly. You change the topic, “Why do you think it’s a boy?”
“I can’t see myself with a daughter.”
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lady-ashfade · 11 months ago
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Our comfort
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Platonic!Yan!Camp Half-Blood x Comfort!Goddess!Reader. (Percy, Annabeth, Grover)
—£ Yes I know I haven’t finish the book but I actually couldn’t wait anymore. So, this is me with little knowledge so bare that in mind.
—£ Warnings: Book/show spoilers, Yandere! Behavior, Being bound to a place, Possessive behavior, Obsessive behavior, Manipulation, Characters fighting for the reader’s attention. Short.
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You weren’t a known for too long goddess, much younger then rest of the gods. A teenager like age compared to them. It was strange to have more powerful gods look to you for comfort but you love it. As you are the goddess of comfort.
But, as the other gods started to have many demigods you saw how miserable they could get. You hated the fact they didn’t care for their children so you decided to stay at the camp for half-bloods when the time came.
The campers cling to you. You bring a comfort they never quite felt before. It was like a warm hug, like the ones they wanted from their parents.
You couldn’t leave, and at the beginning you were glad to accept that fate.
Almost always you are found surrounded by demigods and they just relax in your comfort. You are the one they go to with every worry in their mind.
Being close to Aphrodite, her seeing you as a sister and a younger child. Stories of your love for one another are still told today, as she gave ideas to the mortals of how great your relationship was. But in reality there wasn’t much to tell.
So her children have a mentality that they are your favorite and because of their mother, they have some sort of claim to you above the others. But that never works because you love the children equally.
The demigods have less nightmares with you around and watching over them.
Ares children fight often for your affection. They will constantly get into fights with others to show they deserve more time with you. Which you always scold them but it never sticks. They kiss their weapons each time to you, like a sign of good luck. Aries children are one of the worsts ones because they get aggressive at times, even with you. But the golds make them stop by punishing them, mostly their father.
Hermes children are hard to explain really. They aren’t aggressive, but they are mischievous. They take their revenge of stealing things from the other campers, pulling pranks. Or trapping some of them up and go straight to you before they can get there. Luke for instance, is always looking around for you and talking about his day. He’s either laying down next to you, or making you watch him train.
Many games of all houses take place just for you.
AnnaBeth, is constantly by your side when she has free time. She scares off people with a glare behind your back, knowing that she could put plan them. She also trains and makes you watcher her and needs your praise. Maybe, somehow you are her older sister. But, sometimes she just chills by your side not saying anything, she’s like a lost duck at times.
Grover however is actually a lost duck. You comfort him when his past missions fail and he loses kids. You are so nice to him and makes him feel special and brave. When he has to leave he keeps a coin in his pocket with your face on it and prays a lot. He’s not possessive much. He’s willing to take what he can get and is just happy to be there. But maybe if someone comes in when he’s “crying” and having you fuss over him then he’ll be a bit mad but never does anything about it.
When a new camper arrives you devote your time to them because they need it a little more. They come into a world they know nothing of, waiting for the parent they hardly know to claim them. You claim them like your own until the time comes.
So when Percy comes you feel something off with him, like he is special and in need of a lot. He lost his mom, taken from the world he knew.
Percy becomes the most possessive out of all of them.
He feels out of place but you are always there to listen to him. It doesn’t help that you follow him to make sure he’s okay. At the beginning you’re both following each other around.
“It’s okay, Percy.” You brush his hair lightly like his mother used to do. “You’ll get claim, and you’ll have glory.” And he doesn’t care if you say that to everyone because you make him feel special. 
Also, you protect the new bloods. So you’ll show up when he gets bullied and just raise one brow and they all back off. Can’t risk making you mad at them.
When Percy gets claimed he’s all alone again, no friends and the campers looking at him funny. Being one of the top threes son isn’t fun or easy. He shares a cabin all to himself.
So he starts to be the worst of them all. Raising his voice when you try and leave him and he manipulates you to stay with him. Can’t you see how alone he is?
He can’t sleep unless he knows your watching over him.
You pick no sides of the war. Your family will figure it out themselves, while you take care of their children.
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parkerslatte · 4 months ago
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Right Where He Belongs
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Azriel x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.9k
Warnings: mentions of a difficult pregnancy. mentions of death.
Summary: Y/N and Azriel were in love, and they still were even when Azriel was bound to Velaris for fifty years. When he goes to visit Y/N after so many years, he runs into a male who looks an awful lot like him.
Requested: yes. based off this request.
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
•••
“I need to get home,” Azriel muttered, pressing kisses down the side of Y/N’s neck. 
Y/N giggled. “You said that nearly an hour ago.”
“I know,” Azriel groaned, nuzzling his head into the crook of her neck. 
Y/N smiled and gently pulled Azriel’s head away so she could look him in the eyes. “My love, I will see you in a few days. Surely you cannot miss me too much.”
Azriel gently cupped Y/N’s face. “I miss you whenever I’m apart from you.”
Y/N kissed Azriel on the tip of his nose. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Azriel said before surging forward to connect their lips. 
Almost instantly, Y/N melted. She always did whenever Azriel kissed her. Every thought seemed to fade from her head until she was only consumed by Azriel. Her fingers threaded into his soft hair, gently scratching at his scalp. Azriel hummed in delight. 
Reluctantly, Y/N pulled away. “As much as I am enjoying my time with you, I do need to get to work soon. And so do you.”
Y/N pulled her body from Azriel’s and threw the sheets from her bare body and stepped into the cool air. From the bed Azriel watched her, nothing but pure love in his hazel eyes. He propped himself up on his elbows and shuffled up the bed until he could rest comfortably against the headboard, his wings slumped comfortably. 
Feeling eyes upon her, Y/N turned around to face Azriel. “What?” she asked, failing to keep a smile from her face. 
“Nothing,” Azriel shrugged. 
Y/N rolled her eyes. “No, you were clearly thinking of something.”
Azriel shrugged once more. “All I was thinking is that you are beautiful. It��s nothing you don’t know already.”
“Stop trying to coax me back into bed, Az,” Y/N said and picked up Azriel’s clothes from where they were laying on the floor. 
Azriel caught them before shuffling out of the bed himself. While Y/N changed into her clothes quickly, Azriel changed slowly delaying his return back to Velaris. Once Azriel was fully dressed, he sat down on the edge of the bed and simply watched as Y/N styled her hair in the mirror. 
Y/N could see him looking at her in the mirror and she couldn’t help but smile. “I can feel you staring.”
“I’ve already told you, it’s because you are beautiful,” Azriel answered. 
“You’ve already said that,” Y/N said, turning around with her hands on her hips. 
“I’m only stating the truth,” Azriel replied. 
Y/N walked over to him and as soon as she was in touching distance, Azriel wrapped his arms around her as she settled on his lap. 
“I need to go,” Azriel said miserably. 
“I know,” Y/N said, brushing a strand of hair away. “But you will see me in a few days.”
Azriel huffed. “But that is too long. Why can’t you come to Velaris with me?”
“I still work for Thesean, Azriel,” Y/N said. “Just because I have been given more freedom over the past few months does not mean I can skip out on my duties when it calls for it.”
Y/N stood from Azriel’s lap and pulled him up with her. “Now as much as I hate to kick you out, I do have to get to work soon.”
Azriel sighed. “So do I.”
Y/N dragged Azriel to the door of her apartment. “I know that if I don’t push you out, you will not leave.”
Azriel chuckled. “You know me too well.”
“Better than I know myself,” Y/N replied and opened the front door. “I will see you in a few days, Azriel. 
The shadowsinger stepped through the threshold. “No kiss?”
Y/N huffed out a laugh and pulled Azriel close for a kiss. Everything within her told her to pull him back inside and take him to bed and never let him leave. But she didn’t do that. The moment her lips pressed against Azriel’s, Y/N was pulling away once more. “I will see you in a few days, my love,” Y/N said, slowly closing the door. 
“I love you too,” Azriel said, a playful smile on his lips. 
Y/N blew him a quick kiss and closed the door in Azriel’s face. Though she felt a wave of regret washing over her as she stepped away. Y/N quickly shrugged it off and went back to the mirror to sort her hair out. A few days. She would see Azriel in a few days. 
If only Y/N knew how wrong she was, she would have let Azriel remain in bed with her just a little longer.
***
50 Years Later
The moment after Azriel reunited with Rhys, he immediately winnowed to the Dawn Court. For fifty years he had yearned for Isla. There had been no way to contact her or send word, he was bound in Velaris with no way of communicating. That last time he had seen her, she had pushed him out of the door. Azriel wished he refrained only a little longer. He wished he would have coaxed her back into bed. Perhaps he would have spent these past fifty years wrapped in her embrace instead of sleeping in a cold bed, devoid of her warmth and scent. 
As soon as Azriel appeared in the Dawn Court he walked the route he remembered like the back of his hand. He would never forget it. Despite Y/N spending more time in the Night Court than Azriel did in Dawn, he still memorised every route possible to her apartment. An apartment he wasn’t even sure if she still lived in anymore. 
In the distance, Azriel could see the familiar building. He smiled to himself and quickened his pace. Azriel’s eyes were fixed on the building in the distance so he didn’t notice the figure stepping out in front of him until it was too late. Azriel stumbled back and maintained his balance but the figure was not so lucky. 
Azriel’s hand shot out to catch them but the attempt was futile as they went tumbling to the floor. 
“Watch where you’re walking,” the figure spoke, obviously annoyed. 
Azriel scoffed. “I should be telling you the same thing.”
The figure slowly stood to their feet and Azriel took the opportunity to look at them. The moment he did he felt his heart stop. 
It was as if Azriel was looking into a mirror. The male had the same hair as him, although styled differently. His eyes were the same shade of hazel as Azriel’s were, even the male’s dark lashes were the same. What Azriel picked up on most was the large illyrian wings tucked into the male’s back. Azriel’s mouth opened and closed. The male standing before him was related to him, there was no doubt about that. 
As Azriel’s eyes surveyed the male again, he noticed something familiar– very familiar. The male’s mouth didn’t match up with his at all. It was the perfect replica of the love of his life, even down to the slight scowl upon it. 
Azriel’s hands shook as the realisation dawned upon him. The male standing before him was related to him. And he was definitely his son. 
“I need to go…” Azriel mumbled before speeding off in the opposite direction of Y/N’s apartment. 
His heart beat so fast as his vision blurred. Azriel had a son. Not just a son. A son who was grown up. A son who had grown up without Azriel. 
There was an area surrounded by trees where Azriel hid himself from any onlookers. As soon as he was out of sight of everyone, he finally allowed the tears to fall. He had a son. Azriel had a child. Not being able to support his weight anymore, Azriel slumped onto the grass. 
Many thoughts swum through Azriel’s head. All of them of Y/N. She must have been pregnant before he was bound to Velaris. She must have sent so many letters that he wouldn’t have received. She must have thought he found out and left. More tears sprung to Azriel’s eyes. 
For fifty years, all Azriel had dreamed of was the day he would one day get to hold Y/N in his arms once again. Feel her touch. Hear her voice. Now, perhaps, he never would. If she thought he left her to have a child on her own. Let her go through birthing him alone–
Azriel suddenly stilled as dread filled his body. He had wings. His son had wings. Isla’s body was not fit to carry an Illyrian child. There was a possibility that she was not alive at all. 
A scream of anguish left Azriel as the realisation dawned upon him. All those hopes and dreams about reuniting with Y/N. Asking her to marry him. All of those hopes and dreams were shattered in an instant.
Azriel let his wings slump to the floor, not having the energy to lift them up. He clawed at his chest feeling his heart shatter as the thought that the love of his life may not possibly be alive. 
“Azriel?” A familiar voice spoke softly. 
Azriel’s head snapped up from where he was staring at the grass to look at the source of the voice. His tears blurred his vision but he shakily rose to his feet. 
“Y/N?” Azriel whispered. 
He blinked the tears away and Isla’s beautiful face came into focus. Wasting no time, Azriel rushed forward, as did Y/N. As soon as their bodies collided Azriel wrapped his arms around her as they sank down to the floor. 
“You’re really here,” Y/N whispered, emotion clouding her voice. 
“I’m here,” Azriel replied, his fingers threading in her hair as he cradled her head against him. “I’m here.”
“I sent so many letters,” Y/N cried. 
“I didn’t receive any,” Azriel explained. “I couldn’t receive any.”
“I missed you so much,” Y/N mumbled. “I never should have sent you out that day. We should have never left that bed. It’s my fault.”
“Hey, nothing was your fault,” Azriel said softly. “There was nothing we could do.”
Y/N continued to cry into Azriel’s shoulder as they held one another. Her scent was the same and it felt as if Azriel had never been apart from her. Holding her felt just like that last day they spent together. 
As her cries subsided, Y/N pulled away from Azriel to look at him. “There is so much I need to tell you.”
“I believe I already met one of the things we need to talk about,” Azriel said, taking Y/N’s hands in his and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. 
Despite the tears, Y/N let out a breathy chuckle. “He came to me acting like he had seen a ghost.”
Azriel’s eyes stung as he thought about the male he had met not even ten minutes ago. “What is his name?”
“Forrest,” Y/N replied. “His name is Forrest.”
Azriel nodded and looked down at their joined hands. “He’s grown up.”
Y/N nodded sadly. “I found out I was pregnant only the day after I kicked you out. It was too early to pick up on a shift in scent but I just knew.”
“That was the day I was bound to Velaris,” Azriel said sadly. 
“It was, I tried all I could to contact you but it was impossible,” Y/N said. “At first I thought you had received the letters and left me.”
“I would never do that in a million years,” Azriel said. “Isla, please believe me when I say that if I had found a way to come to you, I would have.”
Y/N cupped Azriel’s cheeks, wiping away the fallen tears. “I know you would have. After not receiving a response from you, I tried to contact Mor, then Cassian and finally Amren. When I did not get a reply from anyone, I knew that there was something stopping you.”
“When I saw Forrest, and saw his wings,” Azriel began, fighting back the tears, “I thought something could have happened to you. Your body is not built to carry a child with wings.”
Y/N trailed her hand from Azriel’s face to link her fingers with hers. The feeling of holding Isla’s hand again sent shivers down Azriel’s spine. 
“I won’t lie to you and say the pregnancy was easy because it wasn’t. I was so scared the entire time,” Y/N explained. “But despite how frightened I was, I live in the Dawn Court, a place with the best healers Prythian has ever seen. The recovery was tough and painful but it was worth it in the end just to hold Forrest in my arms, a beautiful boy who looked just like you.”
Through his tears, Azriel smiled, thinking back to the boy he had run into. A life he helped create. 
“And Forrest,” Azriel said, “was he okay after he was born.”
Y/N sighed. “His wings were damaged during his birth, the healers did all they could for him. A lot of visits to multiple healers. He can fly but only very short distances or it hurts him. Forrest always tells me it is not a big deal but every single time he flies he is always in an extreme amount of pain after.” Y/N chuckled. “But he has your stubbornness. No matter how many times I tell him to take breaks and work on the programme his main healer had put him on, he still decides to go out on long flights. He says it makes him feel closer to his dad.”
“What?” Azriel said in disbelief. 
“Did you really think I haven’t told Forrest anything about you for the past fifty years?” Y/N said, squeezing Azriel’s hands. “Even though he had never met you personally, he loves you. Admires you. He has only just begun asking recently, but he has wanted to meet you for so long. I never told him the full truth, mainly because I didn’t know the full truth and because I know that if I did, he would try anything to get to you. He has your determination too. He is your son through and through, Azriel.”
Azriel looked down at his hand linked with Y/N’s. “I have missed so much of his life. How can I ever be a good father to him? I don’t know a single thing about being a father.”
“And you think I know anything about being a mother?” Y/N replied, a smile pulling at her lips. “I have been one for fifty years and I am sure I am still figuring out things as I go.”
“Will he want to meet me?” Azriel asked.
“He would want nothing more,” Y/N said. “But can I be selfish for a moment, I am sure Forrest will understand.”
Azriel nodded, pulling Y/N closer to him.
“I just want to be with you for a few moments longer,” Y/N said. “It has been so long since you have held me in your arms.”
Azriel smiled at Y/N. “I love you so much.”
The smile that lit up Y/N’s face was the one that haunted Azriel’s dreams and nightmares. But she was real, Y/N was real and Azriel held her tightly to him, afraid that he would wake up in his cold bed. 
“It has been a long time since you have told me that.”
Y/N surged forward once and pressed her lips against Azriel’s. Azriel simply melted into her, knowing that it was real. Y/N was real and he was never letting her go again. 
***
“Forrest,” Y/N said, pushing open the door to her apartment. “I have someone with me you have been wanting to meet.”
Azriel stepped in the room behind Y/N. The apartment was different, there were different decorations and furniture but it was still all familiar to Azriel. He noticed the small gifts he had given her over the course of their relationship in obvious spots around the room. Azriel smiled. 
As Azriel stepped further into Y/N’s apartment his eyes fell upon his son standing still in the centre of the room. 
“Forrest. This is your father, Azriel,” Y/N said. 
Azriel took a deep breath and took a step forward. “I bumped into you just outside,” Azriel said somewhat awkwardly. “I am sorry about that.”
Forrest didn’t respond as he took a few steps closer to Azriel. From this distance, Azriel could see clearly just how much Forrest looked like him but Azriel could also notice all of Y/N’s features in his appearance, all of the features he loved so much. 
“It is good to finally meet you,” Azriel said, feeling far too formal. 
Forrest still didn’t respond as he took a final step closer to Azriel, his face not giving away any emotion. Azriel noticed that Forrest wasn’t too much shorter than Azriel himself but the shadowsinger couldn’t help but feel intimidated under his son’s stare. 
“I thought that maybe, you and I could–”
Azriel was cut off by Forrest hugging Azriel tightly. Azriel’s body remained rigid until he could feel Forrest’s body begin to shake as he cried. Almost instantly, Azriel’s arms wrapped around Forrest as he tried to calm his son. 
“It’s good to meet you, dad,” Forrest mumbled. 
Azriel’s grip only tightened on Forrest as he felt his own tears well in his eyes. He was holding onto his son and the love of his life was standing just behind him. Despite his tears, Azriel smiled. He was right where he needed to be.
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i-cant-sing · 5 months ago
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Time Traveller AU pt 6
Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Time Traveller AU masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!
PART 7 is here!
Its been a week since Baldwin finally came clean about the kiss with Charlotte, a week since you cleared of him "cheating on you", not that you cared if he did, and a week since you realised Guy tried and failed miserably to sabotage Baldwin through Charlotte.
Its also been a week over the due date you were supposed to return to Egypt to get your tools from Abbas, but its been hard to leave when Baldwin insists on spending time with you 24/7 because wants to make up to you for "suspecting his devotion to you".
He draped himself over your shoulders, caging you in his arms as he pecks your temple. "I'm sorry for making you doubt my love for you, princess. No, no- clearly, I'm the one at fault! Let me make it upto you~" Ugh, sometimes him being such a green flag is making it seem like a red flag. But you cant argue because... well, if you dont let Baldwin shower you in affection, then he might stop chanting "its my fault, princess" and change the narrative into "its your fault, princess and you need to be punished for doubting me- the KING, for slapping me- the KING, for thinking yourself so highly that you think i cant have all the women i want, me- the KING! To the dungeons you go, darling!"
Anyways, you both were now sitting down in the royal gardens, Baldwin's head laid in your lap as you worked your fingers through his luscious locks, absentmindedly braiding his hair while he made you tell some stories.
"And so, she found out her husband was cheating on her because she found out a jar of strawb- a jar of lard in her house." You looked down at his face, finding him already staring up at you, eyes full of awe. "And she doesnt eat lard. She hates it, so she never allowed it in the house."
Baldwin let out a small gasp. "And then what did this- Sharkerilla lady do?"
"Shakarina left Pickle. Divorced him." You told him, adding in small daisies in his hair. His face displayed pity. "Wow. And how do you know these people?"
You paused for a second. You cant explain to him how Shakira and Pique were celebrities and the concept of drama channels on youtube.
"We were neighbours." You hummed, patting his head. "There, I did your hair. Now I'm going-"
"No. Come on, we havent spent enough time." He whined, blue eyes looking at you pleadingly.
You scoff. "Baldwin, we've spent the entire day together. We ate breakfast and lunch together, we read books in the library, we looked at tiaras and crowns for the wedding, we even played chess." He lifted his head up from your lap and rested it on his palm as he leaned on his shoulder.
"And you lost all 5 games." Baldwin grinned, making you smack his forehead gently.
"I need to go-"
"Why?"
"Because I need to make arrangements for my trip to Egypt." You explained as Baldwin groaned, plopping his head face-first into your lap. "No." He mumbled against your dress.
"No?"
"No." He raised his head, pouting at you. "You're not going to Egypt. I miss you too much."
You gave him a lazy smile. "I'll be back soon."
"Not soon enough." He argued. "I have to go find my family, Baldwin." You continued on with your lie, raising a hand to caress his cheek. He sighed and leaned into your touch. "I can send the knights to find them." "They wont be able to. Only I will. Besides, I need to know what theyre like, if its even best to let them back into my life again, hm?"
He pondered over for a moment. "Then I will come along?" "What? Why?" He gave you a charming smile. "Because I dont want to part from you. Not for weeks, not for days, not even for-" He leaned up close to your face, eyes darting from your eyes to your lips back to your eyes. "-a minute."
Your face flushed and you looked to your side, using your hand to push his face away, making him chuckle as he grabbed the same hand and pressed a kiss to it. "You're so adorable, my little prude."
You shot him a glare. "I- I'm not a prude. But at least one of us should have a little shame."
He gave a chuckle, poking your still flushed cheek. "Shame? Whatever for? I love you." His eyes lit up in amusement as your head whipped towards him. Baldwin raised a brow at you. Its not the first time he's confessed, but... it still catches you offguard everytime.
"Did you hear me? I love you." He repeated, eyes still twinkling at how you continued to become flustered.
You opened your mouth and then closed it like an idiot, not knowing how to reply.
"Thank you." You finally said, looking anywhere but at him. He burst into a fit of laughter. "Oh god- I tell you- I love you and you say "thank you"? You really are something out of this world!" Baldwin teased you, making you huff.
"Lets not get off topic, Baldwin. You cant come with me to Egypt because you cant abandon Jerusalem. If your throne is empty, Guy- though he doesnt have the brain for it, or Salauddin or someone else will attempt to take your throne from you! You have a responsibility to your people! Keep them safe." You reminded him.
Baldwin stared at you before sighing, leaning back and resting his head on his arms. "You're always so smart, aren't you?" He smiled with his eyes closed. "I suppose it is a good thing that you care so much for your future subjects."
-
Next day, you were all set to leave for Egypt again. Baldwin and you stood at the gates of the castle as the kingdom all gathered around to bid you safe travels. You were ignoring Baldwin's stupid lovey dovey eyes boring holes into you, because there are people here and you dont want this blue orbed man to embarrass you.
But alas, he took your hand in his, making you look at him. He flashed you his dimples, bringing up your hand to press a kiss to it, the crowd cooing while you blushed (though it could be mistaken for anger with how hard you were frowning).
Tearing his eyes away from you, he addressed his people. "O people of Jerusalem! Your princess is going on an important journey. I ask you all to pray for her safety and well being!" The crowd looked on you two with awe, or more at Baldwin for being such a doting husband-to-be.
"While I know that your hearts must ache to see your princess depart from us for some time, I bring you good news to keep your hearts at peace as well." You looked at Baldwin in confusion. Good news? What is he talking about?
Baldwin smiled at you, the sunlight hitting his face at angle that made him look majestic.
"In 3 weeks time, the princess and I will marry!" Your eyes widened as the crowd erupted in cheer.
Baldwin hugged you close, and you whispered. "Three weeks? But I'll be gone for at least two! I wont have enough time to make-"
"Dont worry about a thing, princess. Sibylla and I will make all the arrangements necessary and trust me, it'll be a wedding for generations to remember." He pulled back, grinning at you as he pecked your forehead. "You just focus on returning safely, okay?"
Sibylla, Guy and their son were also there to bid you farewell. Sibylla pulled you in for a tight hug, promising to give you a grand wedding and that she'll keep your prefrences in mind. Their son ran off and Sibylla went to chase after him, leaving you alone with Guy.
"Bye." Guy gruffly said while you smiled tightly at him. "I know what you did, you buffoon." He looked at you slighted. "What the hell are you-"
"Charlotte? The letters? Yeah, we'll talk when I return. And you better not cause anymore trouble for me or else-" You turned to look at Baldwin, waving sweetly at him. Guy gulped, taking in your threat.
-
As usual, your first stop was at Salauddin's camp. You would go without stopping here, the knights Baldwin sent with you claimed to know the way but... you dont trust them to know how to survive the desert. And you knew you were right when some people from your caravan started feeling faint.
"Return to Jerusalem and take care of yourself." "But we cant just leave you, princess-" "You are not going to be able to serve me if you dont survive the desert. Salauddin's camp is near and with his guards combined with mine, I'll be more than safe. Go now. And tell the king that I insisted you returned." You assured them, commanding a few knights to guard them on their way back.
Looking ahead, you saw the sand hill beyond which Salauddin's camp was. Isabella, your lady-in-waiting, gave you your niqaab and chaddar.
-
"And then, he told me about who Charlotte was and what really happened. It was all a big misunderstanding." You told Salauddin as he moved his pawn.
"You believed him?" He raises a brow as you made your move.
"Of course! I already knew Guy was behind it. I figured it from the letters, and his face practically gave it all away when I confronted him about it." You reached under your veil to fan yourself. "Is it burning in here or am I just imagining it?"
Salauddin turned and brought you some cold water. "Guy could be a threat to you. Dont trust him."
You turned your head to the side, barely lifting your veil before bringing the glass underneath it to your lips, gulping it down as you let out a relieved sigh. "I know. Guy is a tool, and tools are meant to be used."
His lips quirked slightly at your words. Sitting back down, he played his move. "When do you plan on leaving Baldwin?"
"Soon. The plan is in motion." You took some time before moving your knight. Salauddin wasnt making this game easy for you this time and neither was the hot temperature.
He leaned forward, taking your knight with his bishop. "And how do you plan on doing that when your fiance has just announced your wedding date?"
You narrowed your eyes at him. "How did you- spies?" Salauddin's silence confirmed how news travelled so fast. "You dont need to worry. I'll be long gone before the wedding day."
"Care to indulge me on your plan?" He popped a date in his mouth.
"No." You replied making him glare at you. "If your plan involves relying on Guy, then you're even stupider than you look."
You scoff, pushing his king down. "I'm sorry, how many rounds have you won against me?" He smirks, though you suspect that he's just trying to cover up for being a sore loser.
"Maybe I just let you win so that you get to live." Of course, how can you forget his "win or you die" version of chess.
"Whatever you say, grandpa." His jaw clenched, making you chuckle. "Your existence gives me a headache. Leave."
As you walked out, you're suddenly hit with a wave of dizziness. Under your veil, your face is sweaty, you cant even use your hands to wipe it away because of how clammy they are, you even feel beads of sweat rolling down from your neck to your leg.
"Are you alright?" Salauddin came up behind you, eyes studying you stumbling a bit.
"Yeah- I'm just- hot..." You muttered, sweat gathering around your upper lip while your mouth felt like cotton. He watched you blink slowly as the sun hit you in the face, making you raise your hand to shield yourself, even though your muscle cramped.
"Y/n?" You heard him call you, but black dots clouded your vision and then in a second, you fainted.
-
You woke up to the sound of drums playing outside. Looking around, you recognised this to be the women's tent you had been in the first time Baldwin brought you here.
Isabella walked in, halting for a moment when she realised you were awake before rushing towards you. "Princess? Are you okay?" She poured you a glass of water, helping you drink it. "What happened?"
"You fainted from the heat. We were going to take you back to the kingdom but Sultan Salauddin advised us all to stay put here because the air was only going to get hotter for the rest of the day. And by night, it would be too cold for us to make it back." She smiled gently. "He was kind enough to offer us stay here."
You nodded and sighed. For sure none of you wouldve survived if you were to return to Jerusalem today.
You walked out of the tent to see it was night now. The drums you heard earlier were being played by some men of Salauddin's, accompanied by few women clapping and having an overall merry time around the bonfire.
You didnt spot Salauddin with them, but you suppose he's probably either working or resting.
The temperature had indeed dropped as night fell, and you wrapped a shawl around before joining the camp fire. You sat down on the ground with some women, smiling as they immeadiately welcomed you warmly. The one on your right was quick to show you her baby, and you recognised him to be the one you saved.
"Jibrael." She told you his name. The baby was almost a month old, and his chubby cheeks made you coo. Jibrael- or Gabriel, is an angel who acted as an  intermediary between God and humans and as bearer of revelation to the prophets, most notably to Muhammad (PBUH). In Christianity, Gabriel was the archangel announcing the coming birth of Jesus Christ and John the Baptist. In Judaism, Gabriel is a helper to Daniel and a warrior angel for God's cause.
You played with the baby for a while before handing him back to his mother to be put down for sleep. It was getting cold now and most had already left to go to bed now. You wrapped the shawl around you closer, snuggling into it as your eyes gazed at the dancing flames. You felt someone sit next to you.
"How are you feeling now?" Salauddin asked, keeping his eyes ahead.
"I'm fine. Thank you for catching me."
"I didnt. You fell. It was funny." You turned to glare at him (the respectable gap between you two did not go unnoticed... or unappreciated by you.) and perhaps for the first time you saw him smiling. Genuinely.
Though his thick beard covered most of his lower third of the face, you could see his sharp jawline that sculpted his face. Strong. Hard. His lips, bottom one appearing to be plumper than the upper one, were resting in a relaxed smile.
The moonlight seemed to soften his sharp features, but his kohl lined eyes adorned with luscious lashes shone with amusement and... something in the orange hue of the bonfire.
He turned his head to you. "What?" You were thankful for your veil covering your expression for being caught staring at him like an idiot. You shake your head, dismissing him, turning your head back towards the dying fire.
"What are you going to do once you leave Baldwin?" Salauddin asked, stoking the fire.
"Leave."
"To where?" You shrug. "Anywhere. Maybe try finding my family. Or venture somewhere else."
"He wont give up so easily." You rolled your eyes. "Yeah yeah, because he loves me and all-"
"He wont forgive your betrayal." Salauddin cut you off. "He wont forgive you for the embarrasment. He wont forgive you for the insult of rejecting a king. He wont just- let you go." He looked at you, his tone haunting as he uttered the next words.
"Baldwin will hunt you down. And he will make you wish you were dead."
You stared at him, processing his words. Baldwin would... hurt me?
"Are we talking about the same man?" You ask him with a light chuckle, though your throat has ran dry.
He nods. "I know he seems like he couldnt hurt a fly, and physically, he couldnt until you cured him. But I've seen him on the battlefield. I've had him as my enemy and I've observed him obliterate people who just tick him off." He offered you some dates, and you took a few. You were hungry, and these looked pretty good right now.
"Baldwin is smart, calculating. He's the king, he has the power to end his enemy very easily. At the drop of a hat. But he doesn't. He waits for the perfect moment, or rather creates the perfect chance to torture any man who had the misfortune to be on the receiving end of his anger. And he does it with a completely cool, clear mind." And even though Salauddin has fought Baldwin many times, they both know they're only fighting for their people, for their religion. Its nothing personal, so they're technically not enemies.
"So what do you suggest I do to not piss him off so badly? I've already tried rejecting him respectfully."
He stayed quiet for a few moments, stoking the fire. He smiled when he felt your curious eyes on him.
"There is a way." He said.
"Which is...?"
His smile widened even more. "You're not ready for it yet." You frowned. "Drop the act, Salauddin. You came here by yourself because you wanted to tell me the plan. Stop teasing and just tell me." He chuckled hearing you become frustrated.
"In due time, Y/n. In due time." You roll your eyes, standing up. "I'm not going to beg you to tell me. But your "plan", which I dont think exists, it better not mess with my escape." You stomped back inside your tent, and Salauddin snickered as you tripped a bit on your chadar on the way in.
He stood up, giving a nod to the rest as they all settled in for the night.
-
"Salauddin!" You cried out, your eyes full of tears that he could see from a mile away, even if your were wearing a niqaab. He could feel your agony, your distress. You were standing in the middle of the desert alone, the boiling sun along with your black chadar covering you from head-to-toe, would only be increasing your body temperature. Why were you all alone? He left you with his caravan. Or did Baldwin leave you in this harsh enviorment to die? Did he find out you were going to leave him?
"Salauddin!" You called out to him again, your voice wet from all the crying. This time, he rode his horse towards you. Fast. He needed to get to you, even though the galloping hurt his shoulder. Yes, he got wounded while he was fighting. He sustained many injuries, many gashes, so much so that by the time he reached you, his white armour had turned bloody. But he was not bothered by it, no. He needed to reach you. You. How long have you been out here? Arent you dying of thirst?
Your arms were still wide open, though drooping from the lack of energy. He could hear you sobbing as you called him again, and he all but ran towards you, bodies colliding as he pulled you into a strong embrace. Muscled arms wrapped around you, comforting you that he's here now. You're safe now.
Salauddin looked around as you bawled into his chest, trying to see if everyone had really abandoned you here and... left you die.
You pulled away from him, but Salauddin didnt remove his hands from you. And thats when he felt the cloth you were wearing. It was too thin. The sun must've burned your skin now. Is that why you're crying? You're in pain?
In a blink, he removed his own thick black chadar that rested on his shoulders and wrapped it around you, pulling it over your head to stop more heat damage.
"Y/n?" He spoke softly as you continued to cry so brokenly as he adjusted the cloth over your body. "What happened?"
"Y-you left me!" You blubbered. He shook his head. "No. I- I left to go in battle. I couldnt take you along. It was dangerous-"
"You left me, Salauddin! You left me here! Baldwin- he hurt me! He hurt me so badly! And you weren't here to protect me!" You sobbed out, your eyes red and swollen from the tears. "I am a part of the ummah! I am a Muslim! You- you were supposed to keep me safe! On your honour, I was in your care! Why didnt you save me, Salauddin?"
Salauddin felt his heart being crushed at your words. He failed to keep you safe? But... he was at war. What was he supposed to do?
He grabbed your shoulders, pulling you to his chest as he rubbed circles into your back. "I'm sorry." He whispered, shushing you as your body shook from tears. "I'm here now. I promise to keep you safe, Y/n. I will never leave you again. I will never let anyone hurt you again. I swear, Allah as my witness, I will do everything to keep you safe." You pulled your head back from his chest, your red eyes looking at him weakly.
"You're too late, Salauddin." You whispered and a sharp sound whooshed through the air, making your body jolt in his arms. You both looked down and thats when he saw it-
An arrow. Poking through your chest.
"Y/n?" His voice trembled, watching the life drain out of your eyes.
You fell, and so did Salauddin, catching your body. He couldnt- he couldnt believe it. He cradled you in his arms, readjusting the chadar over you again, softly calling your name.
Wake up. Wake up, Y/n. Return to me.
Footsteps approached him, though he couldnt bare to tear his eyes from you. He already knew who it was.
"Why?" Salauddin asked him.
Baldwin kneeled down to his level, staring at you for a moment before yanking his arrow out of you, making a stream of blood gush out. Salauddin panicked, tried to cover the gaping wound with his hand. He looked at Baldwin in disbelief. This... this was not the Baldwin he knew. Baldwin was never so cruel- so heartless.
"She deserved it." Baldwin stated before stabbing him in the chest.
Salauddin continued to hold you in his arms, watching Baldwin leave on his horse as you two bled out to your deaths in the middle of the desert.
Salauddin woke up with a jolt, his forehead sweaty as he breathed fast. He could feel his heart beating against his chest loudly.
Nightmare. Thats all it was. He was still in his bed, in his tent.
He got up to fetch himself some water, taking sips to slow down his heart. Judging from the darkness, he knew it was still nighttime. It was quiet, everyone was asleep except for a few men he left to guard them.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
Salauddin whipped around just in time to knock the shadowy figure standing behind him with a sword. In a second, Salauddin had overpowered and snapped his neck, only then realising more shadows moving outside his tent.
"We're under attack! WAKE UP!" He yelled before grabbing his two swords and running out to defend his caravan.
-
You woke up to screaming and Isabella pulling you out of bed.
"We're under attack!" She says, yanking you out of the women's camp that was set on fire. Your eyes were wide and for a moment, you were frozen as you took the scene in front of you.
Fire. There was fire everywhere. All the camps were ablaze, along with some people being burned alive. Haunting screams echoed the entire area. Time slowed down as you saw Salauddin's men fighting... some people. You couldnt figure out who they were, but you knew they werent the knights Baldwin had assigned for you. No, you saw them fighting these mysterious figures as well. They were covered in dark clothes to blend in with the night, had hoods and masks covering their faces but they fought skilfully and very fast.
"Princess, we must leave!" Isabella caught your attention again, dragging you away from the chaos. You saw her following a knight- your knight, who led you towards a horse for you to escape with.
Salauddin... where's Salauddin?
You looked back frantically and you spotted him in the sea of flames, cutting through multiple armed one with his two swords slicing them brutally.
For a moment, your eyes met and then in the next, he screamed your name.
Isabella had pushed you away just in time as two men came at you with swords. You knight yelled at you to run. Again, Isabella pulled you to make an escape but it wasnt long before you two got separated by a woman who was on fire, running in between you two.
"H-help her." You told Isabella who took of her shawl to put out the fire. In the middle of all this commotion, you heard a distinct cry.
A baby's cry.
Jibrael!
It was coming from one of the tents. You ran in, looking around for the baby before spotting the bassinet. You grabbed the crying baby and held it close to your chest, trying to shush it as you walked towards the exit only to halt when you saw who was blocking it.
The shadowy figure. He was wearing dark hood and mask, while the rest of his armour was made of leather. He was armed with swords, daggers and a satchel.
It clicked. Assassin.
The assassin stared at you with dark eyes taking a step forward. You backed away, holding the crying baby protectively to your chest. He tilted his head at you, and for a second, you thought you saw amusement in his eyes.
Slowly, he walked out of the tent without saying a word but he stood right behind the curtain of the tent. You saw his shadow pull out his sword before standing there still.
What is he doing?
You turned around, hoping to find another exit but thats when you saw it. Two more shadows stood outside the tent and then they dropped something on the tent walls.
Fire. They lit the entire tent on fire and stood outside with their swords, giving you the choice to either die by their swords or burn yourself alive.
The fire spread fast, burning the flammable tent easily. Dark smoke started to surround you making you cough. The baby continued to cry harshly and you pulled him under your chadar to protect him from the fire and smoke.
But you didnt realise it until it was too late. Your chadar, your clothes had caught on fire as well. You screamed for help, screamed in agony as your skin burned. It felt like you were being branded, felt like someone was ripping your skin off.
Is this it? Is this how it all ends for you? Suffocated, skin charred, body naked? In a period where no one knows who you really are?
You fell to your knees before hunching over the baby, cradling it in your arms as its harsh cries burst your ears, protecting him from being burned for as long as you can.
Allah... Allah... Allah...
Through the thick smoke, a figure ran and covered your body with a thick cloth, patting down to put out the flames.
He picked your trembling body up, your arms still wrapped around the baby protectively. He walked through the ablaze tent, his face still covered by the smoke, or perhaps your vision was too blurry.
He exited the tent, the smoke cleared out and a gush of air filled your lungs. But you were burned, suffocated and exhausted.
The last thing you saw before your world faded to black was Salauddin's face.
-
You woke up to the sound of Quran recitation. A gentle, steady voice read the words beautifully.
Fluttering your eyes open, you looked around the room for the source. To your side, you found Salauddin reciting the Quran with his eyes closed in concentration. Was he a hafidh? (Hafidh is someone who has memorised the Quran completely).
He opened his eyes when finished reciting, looking stunned for a second to find you awake before a small smile graced his lips.
"We're in Egypt now." He informed you before concern washed over his face. "How are you feeling now? I changed your bandages in the morning, but I think its time to replace them." He grabbed the bowl of water and bandages on your side.
"B-bandages?" He stopped before understanding your confusion.
"You were in the tent when the assassins set it on fire. Your... clothes caught on fire, which stuck to your skin and burned it as well. I had to remove the remains of your clothes to treat your burns-"
"What?!" Your eyes looked down to confirm his words, he had indeed changed your clothes. "Why did you-" Your hands touched your face, heart sinking as you realised your veil was not there.
"You removed my niqaab?! My clothes?!" Your fury was only a disguise for your fear of what he'd seen, what he'd done to you in your vulnerable state.
He shook his head. "I had to do it as soon as we were safe. You were hurt-"
"Why? Why did you have to do it? Why not Isabella or any of the other women?!"
His face turned solemn. "Isabella... was gravely injured. She was in no position to look after you. Most people- most women from my tribe did not survive. The few who did were also wounded. The men... I just thought you wouldnt prefer someone you didnt know to look at you in such state." Salauddin looked at you, his eyes clear. "I did not do anything unbecoming of a man. Allah as my witness, I did not touch you with ill intent."
Perhaps it was the way he said it, or perhaps you just wanted to keep your mind at peace but... you believed him.
"How's Isabella now?" You let him change the dressings on your arms, watching him like a hawk as he moved quickly and carefully, no unnecessary touches or lingering that would make you uncomfortable. Even when he treated the the burns on the back of your legs, he worked fast, applying some balm on the red areas. The balm was like a cool gel against your irritated skin.
"She's better now. Just needed some rest." He replied as he finished wrapping the bandage on your legs. "Your back." Salauddin softly asked. You hesitated.
He sighed. "Y/n... I need to apply the balm or your skin will scar." You slowly turned around, holding your breath as you removed the robe from your back partially.
If he wanted to, he could've done anything when you were unconcious. You calmed yourself.
Again, Salauddin's hand worked fast, applying the balm quickly and placing some gauze over the marks. He pulled your robe over your back again, letting you turn around with a flushed face.
"My... my face?" You asked cautiously. You did not know if damage had been done there as well.
Salauddin understood you. "Fortunately, your face was save from the flames." He stood up and went over to the wardrobe to grab you a white chadar, handing it to you so that you cover your head with it. "Maybe when you were ducking over Jibrael, your arms covered both you and him from the fire."
"Jibrael...?" You asked. He smiled assuringly. "He's fine. You saved him... again." You sigh in relief. At least this wasnt all for naught.
Salauddin sits back down in the chair and though you've covered your hair with the shawl, he keeps his eyes trailed down on his hands in his lap. "I must ask you of one thing." You peeked at him before keeping your eyes focused on your lap as well.
"Will you... tell Baldwin about this incident?" Why would you when it would only cause Baldwin to panic and prevent you from leaving the castle, or his sight at all? You still need to come here to get parts for your time machine and even if the machine was working, you need to be able to use it without Baldwin or his army of knights breathing down your neck.
"No. It will only cause misunderstandings between you and him and I need to punish the real culprit for it."
He frowned but didn't raise his gaze. "And who might that be?"
"Those men... they were assassins, right?" He hummed. "Judging by how vicious they were, I think they were Ismailis."
Ismailis were a sect of Shia Muslims. Basically, like the great schism of Christianity into Orthodox and Catholic Church, Islam also had a schism that divided it into Sunni and Shia Islam. Shia Islam further had divided into different sects, of which one was Ismailis.
Sunni and Shia Muslims have been at war with each other since the beginning over religious differences. And considering Salauddin was not only Sunni Muslim but also targeted many Ismaili assassins so that they would not oppose his rule, it would be an understatement that they wanted Salauddin dead.
But... you know Salauddin had already gotten rid of most of the assassins and established his dominance over them. You're sure he's already had a peace treaty with them.
"Salauddin, you have an agreement with the Ismailis, don't you?" You watched his eyes widen slightly. "You're on peaceful terms with them at the moment?"
"How did you know?" Of course, the great Sultan Salauddin, an orthodox Sunni, wouldn't want the world to know that he spared the Ismailis. No, that would stir rumours that Salauddin has empathy for Ismailis, for the Shias, and which would lead to the rumours of hum being a Shiite Muslim.
You waved him off. "I know your character. I know of your mercy. Besides, I know both you and the Ismailis have a bigger common enemy- the Christians. Its more than likely that the Ismailis are supporting you so that you defeat Baldwin and claim Jerusalem, then they can focus on you. Plus, if the Ismailis wanted to kill you, why wait until now? They know you've been camping outside Jerusalem for months now." Salauddin was... impressed by your deduction skills to say the least. How are you connecting the dots so fast? Just who are you, Y/n?
You rubbed your chin. "So that means that someone not only hired the assassins but also wants us to think that the Ismailis were behind it all." Who could it be? Someone who wants to harm Salauddin but... they also wanted to harm you. It couldnt be the Roman Catholics or other Christians. No, they'd know better than to interfere with Baldwin, their Holy Emperor's war. Especially not with his wife-to-be in harms way. Who... who would know that you're with Salauddin and still attempt an assassination-
"Guy." You muttered, pinching the nose of your bridge. Of course, its fucking Guy, shit for brains Guy who cant sit still and wait his turn to play king.
"Guy? Why would he attack me when you're still here?" Salauddin's mind immeadiately gives an answer as soon as he asks out loud.
"Because I am here." You groan. "He's trying to eliminate us both, or at the very least- me, while I'm with you so that he can provoke Baldwin to go to war with you because you "killed" his future wife. He would tell Baldwin that it doesnt matter if they were Ismailis or not, we were all Muslims and this is just how Muslims are! He'd send Baldwin off to not only go to war with you but rather go to war with Muslims everywhere! And knowing Guy, he probably hopes that Baldwin dies in the process of his rampage. If you, me or Baldwin are all dead, or even one of us is, then Guy will only have to worry about dealing with one less person. His best bet was probably to get rid of me and you both, then have Baldwin go to war with all the Muslims who killed his fiancee. He's using all of us as pawns so that he gets to sneak on to the throne and be king!"
You heard Salauddin sigh. Perhaps he agreed with your theory. Perhaps he didnt. Whatever he may think, you know he will still conduct a thorough investigation of his own to find out who the real culprit is,
"Dont worry, I will deal with Guy. In fact, I'll let you have him to slaughter as you please." Of course, Salauddin will kill Guy. He has to pay for the blood of all his people.
Salauddin watched you get up from the bed and walk towards the vanity. "How long will these take to heal?" You asked, referring to your burns. "Usually take about a month, but the balm I used will significantly fade the marks." Good. You dont need Baldwin freaking out over them.
He stood up to take his leave. "I'll check on what information they've been able to gather from the assassin we caught. You-" He pointed towards the bed. "Rest. I mean it. These burns will only get worse in the heat outside, thats why I gave you the coolest room in the palace." He continued to glare at you until you finally sighed and sat on the bed. "I have to go see Isabelle-" You tried but he raised his hand. "No. You are to stay here, in your room. No one gets in, and no one gets out. I dont trust anyone to not try to kill you, not even in your own entourage- whatever is left of them. My men are stationed right outside. If you need anything, you tell them. But you are not to leave your chambers."
"I'll see you at dinner." He left and you saw the guards stationed outside your door.
The great thing about Egyptian palaces was that they had big windows to allow for ventilation. So you were already out of the window and climbing along the edge. You were about to jump when you heard someone call you.
"P-princess?!" Isabelle looked at you in horror. Apparently, you had climbed down near the balcony of her room. "Oh hey, Isabelle! How are you now?"
"I- I'm fine- princess, please get down from there!" She practically begged, fearing for your life. You climbed over her balcony and hugged her. "I'm so glad you're okay! Because I need you to do me a favour." You gave her a sweet smile while she looked at you in confusion. "See, I need to go out for a bit but Salauddin has told me to stay in and rest. So... I need you to cover for me again, just like last time."
"I- what- princess-"
"I wouldnt ask you if it wasnt of grave importance." You pleaded, finally making her give in. "Okay, I'll go to your room-" You stop her when she begins walking away.
"You cant just walk in there. There's guards stationed there and they wont let you in."
"Then how am I supposed to get in?"
You smiled at her. She didnt like that smile. It wasnt... well meaning.
"Well..." You looked at the balcony and she followed your gaze, almost immediately coming to tears.
"Princess please-"
"I am right here. I will help you, I promise Isabelle! I wont let you fall."
-
After helping a trembling Isabelle climb into your room, you had finally made your way to the madrassa. You had covered your face with your chadar and sneaking inside was no feat.
Abbas jumped out of his seat the moment you entered.
"Y/n! I thought you forgot all about me- wait what happened to your hands?" He referred to the bandages.
"I had an accident while conducting an experiment." "What experiment? Can I be a part of it? Please please please-"
"Abbas." You silenced him. "Business first. Did you make the tools I asked you to?" He quickly ran to his desk and pulled them out from the drawer. You examined them. They werent the best but you could make do with them. You nodded before asking for a paper so that you could draw the last few bits you needed.
"I need these by the end of this week." Abbas chuckled. "Oh I thought you were joking. How do you expect me to build- whatever this is! in a week? No way. I would need to get all the material and-"
"Abbas. I need it this week. I dont care how, but you have to do it."
He looked at you suspiciously. "Maybe if you could just tell me what it is that you're making-"
"No. I cant. And you will make me this by the end of the week, if not earlier because I have a very good reward waiting for you."
Abbas rolled his eyes. "I dont need your money-"
"I will let you ask me anything you want. Any question on any topic you'd like." You knew Abbas's thirst for knowledge.
You saw the twinkle in his eyes. "I will still take the money." "Of course, but I'll pay you after you make me this." He sighed and agreed.
"Wait- check this please?" He handed you his journal that had some math equations. You huffed, grabbing his pen and working on the mistakes. "I'm doing this just so that you do my work." You gave him some other math problems you did in grade 8 and handed it back to him.
You turned to leave before pausing.
"Abbas?" He hummed. "I think... we should set some security measures." You whispered.
"Whatever for?"
"Just in case someone came looking for me or my work. You know you're not supposed to tell anyone about this."
"I couldnt even if I wanted to." He tilted his head. "Why would someone come looking for you? Are you in trouble?"
You shake your head. "No. But you're aware of how other... scholars are eager to steal ideas." He nodded, being a victim of such crime.
"What do you have in mind?"
-
Salauddin was informed when you had returned to the palace. Of course he knew the moment you left. This was his Egypt. Not a bird flies without his knowledge here.
He sent out a spy after you, both to keep you safe and to follow you around. He couldnt help but let out a huff when he was told of your daring climb out of the window. Didnt he tell you to stay in bed?
"This girl..." He grumbles.
The spy told him that you went inside the madrassa. Why? What business could you possibly have there?
Perhaps you're creating a poison? To kill Baldwin? No, there would be easier ways to get poison. You did tell him and Baldwin that you were going to Egypt to find your family, but he has a hard time believing that.
Just what were you upto?
He'll find out soon enough. This is his kingdom, he finds out things. And he'll find out your secret too.
He knocked on your door before entering. You were sitting on your bed, your face now covered with a niqaab and your hair with his white chadar. His clothes. He felt something warm in his heart at the thought.
"How are you now?" He asked, his hands clasped behind his back.
"I'm fine. Just bored waiting here all day." You sighed exasperatedly.
Such a liar.
"I apologise for not being able to entertain you. I was busy with the assassin." You looked at him in anticipation. "He didn't reveal much but he did say that they were hired. I suppose that would bring us closer to your theory."
He watched your eyes narrow in thought. "It has to be Guy. He knew I was going to the desert to you first. He needed to get rid of me without anything to come back on him. Coward."
The door was knocked.
"I hope you dont mind- I had them bring dinner up here." Salauddin explained, letting the servants in. They set down a dastarkhawan in the balcony. A red table cloth was set on the ground, onto which many dishes were placed. You both sat down on cushions, the area was lit up with candles placed. You were busy admiring the view of the pyramids from your seat while Salauddin poured you some ginger kehwa.
"Here." You lifted your niqaab a bit to sip the hot tea, a sigh escaping your lips. Salauddin's lips quirked a bit but he, like you, kept his eyes focused on the pyramids.
You picked up the plate of dates from your side, knowing how fond he is of them. "Here." You mimicked his voice, making him smile as he grabbed a piece.
You both silently ate, admiring the view and enjoying each others presence.
Some time later, you were both done with dinner and just sat in silence. That is until Salauddin spoke.
"I'm sorry." You looked at him. "For letting you get hurt."
You exhaled, trailing your eyes back towards the night sky that was littered with gleaming stars.
"I know. But you shouldnt be, Salauddin. I'm not made of porcelain."
I know. I saw you jumping off the palace walls with the confidence of an assassin and the grace of a headless chicken.
"Still, you're under my care. I am responsible for you-"
"I free you of this burden." You're not a burden. "I am not that hurt and I am not scarred for life. If anything, all that incident made me question is just how far would man go?" Your eyes glazed over as you recalled the incident in the tent, where the assassin left you and the baby to burn to death. You could understand killing you, but a baby? He was willing to let a baby burn?
"It makes me believe just how barbaric people were to the Ahl al-Bayt (family of Prophet Muhammad PBUH). How easy it was for them to slaughter his lineage, how easy it was for them to keep water from them, how their hearts did not halt for a moment when they heard the cries of Ali Asghar- who they killed with an arrow in the neck." Your eyes glistened. "A baby. He was just a baby. How would've his father felt in that moment, holding his dead son in his arms, knowing he had to bring him home to his wife?" The battle of Karbala was one of the most heart wrenching tragedies of Islam and whats worse is that Prophet Muhammad knew of it years before it happened. He knew his own grandsons will face martyrdom years before it actually happened, when they were just little children in his arms.
"Man is cruel." Salauddin stated.
"But Allah made man. Why... would he allow man to be so cruel? Even animals are not this merciless." You wondered.
"Because man cannot see God." He says. "There are signs of His existence, signs for those who wish to be guided. Animals can see God. Angels can see God. Humans... Allah has made us with the ability to think, to choose. Man chooses to be cruel when he forgets that Allah is watching, that these things- the stones, the trees, everything around him? They're all living beings who will testify against man." He smiles. "But that is why the true believers also have a greater reward in the hereafter. What do you think of the reward, of what you'll get when you enter heaven? You dream of wealth, of food, of all luxuries. But there's a greater reward waiting for us. Do you know what that is?"
You gave a slight shake of your head.
"The true believers will see Allah. They will get to meet their Lord, their Creator, the One who saw them through it all, the One who knows their secrets and kept them hidden, the One continued to shower His blessings upon them even when they were not grateful." Those words... they comforted you. How peaceful it is to the heart to hear that your Creator waits for you. The One who has seen you shed tears and took care of you in this world will also take care of you in the next. And at the same time, this is such devastating news for the sinners too. Those who act selfishly, who forget who their Lord is, they will end up in hell and will never get the opportunity to see their Creator again, to ask of mercy from the most Merciful.
"Still..." You mumbled, wanting to find an excuse for such wickedness.
"It is not our place to ask why, Y/n. Allah does not owe us answers, explanations. He already has given us His book for guidance, his prophets for example. But know this- everything happens for a reason. Maybe the battle of Karbala was just to show us how quick man can turn on his own. Perhaps in the future, a time will come when people will kill many women and children, slaughter men so brutally while the entire world watches and yet... no one does anything. And then people will wonder- surely, man is not so evil. Surely, man wouldn't kill innocent children. Perhaps then they will remember history."
-
Salauddin woke up with a sigh. He had gone to sleep after he left your room last night, but he woke up from yet another dream he had of you. You. You. You. Since that night in the desert, he's been having constant dreams about you. Its either you dying at the hands of Baldwin or Guy, or its you asking him to help you. Tonight, he dreamt of you two celebrating Ramadan together, with you picking up the plate and offering him dates, however unlike dinner, you were sitting much closer to him in his dream, by his side. So close, he could see himself in your eyes.
Salauddin wasnt vain enough to admit it to himself- he had feelings for you. But what were they?
Lust? Not really, he's seen far prettier women than you. Beauty... is subjective and Salauddin is a firm believer in "beauty is in the eye of the beholder".
Admiration? No. He admires your intelligence and your wit but Salauddin also has those qualities.
Infatuation? Sure he does think about you often during the day but not enough to call it obsession.
No, its love. It has to be. His heart doesnt know what exactly it is about you that draws him in. His mind doesnt comprehend why he feels like you belong with him but his soul, every fibre of his being screams that you do.
Allah has created someone for someone. He created Eve for Adam, He creates a woman from the rib of the man.
Salauddin touches the side of his chest, just above his abdomen.
Perhaps you're his missing rib.
You were smart, you were daring, you were also stupid enough to put yourself in harms way but it was... endearing. More importantly, you were the only person who could bicker with him, stand your ground against him and get away with it too.
He sat down on a chair, looking out at the pyramids. Like the man he's named after (Prophet Yusuf/Joseph), Salauddin believes in dreams having meaning. Perhaps its a way for God to talk to you, to warn you or guide you.
And from all his dreams about you, he's come to interpret it that he must save you from Baldwin... and everyone else. And he can save you- he can save you without you having to go through the trouble to be plotting against Baldwin and endangering yourself by working with Guy.
He could marry you.
If you were to marry Salauddin, you would become the queen of Egypt and the wife of the strongest Muslim leader of the time. Not only that but the entire ummah, Muslims around the world will come together as one to fight against Baldwin, against anyone who dares to harm you. You would be safe, you would be secure by his side as his wife.
But the plan is easier said than done.
Baldwin wouldnt backdown so easily. He would wreak havoc and if he's as obsessed with you as Salauddin has seen him, then he wouldnt stop at nothing to get you back. Baldwin will have to be dead for you to be safe from him.
Besides Baldwin, you yourself also are a hurdle. You havent shown any interest in him (which is understandable because you're engaged) but he doubts you're interested in marrying anyone at all. You're not one to be affected his wealth or status, you dont go for materialistic things. He's sure if he were to ask your hand, you would laugh hysterically and then maybe try mocking him. And Salauddin does not want to force you to marry him. He wants you to want him.
There is a way he could convince you. All he has to do is make himself look better than any man, especially Baldwin because you do seem to have a soft spot for him despite trying to sabotage him.
A sinister idea comes to mind.
What if Baldwin breaks up with you?
If Baldwin, for any reason, decides not to marry you then not only will you be free from him but a war will be avoided.
All Salauddin has to do is give Baldwin a reason to break up with you. He could send some concubines to him, but he doubts Baldwin would use them. And even if he did, it isnt reason enough for him to call off things with you. No, the only way Baldwin would break up with you is... if you're unfaithful to him. You dont need to cheat, dont need to sleep with any man. No, you dont have to do anything at all. All he has to do is make sure you're in the right place at the right time and Baldwin's there too, just enough to create doubt in his mind. And the ball will roll from there. Baldwin will continue to second guess your loyalty to him until he's driven himself insane. Then he'd leave you without ever punishing you for a crime he thinks you committed but has no proof of. Thats when Salauddin will swoop in as your knight in shining armour and you'll see that all men but him are shit and you'll say yes to his proposal-
No.
He sighed, rubbing his temples. Despite it being a perfect plan, the safest plan- Salauddin cant bare to stain your character. He cannot spread a rumor about you being unfaithful. He cannot have anyone talk badly of you, even if it will end up with you in his arms. You're important to him. And if you ever figure out that Salauddin was the one behind it all, you'd never forgive him. You would never trust him.
The thought of you not trusting him, just like you dont trust him enough to tell him why you sneaked out of the palace, it hurts him. He doesnt know why but he wants you to trust him- trust him enough that you come to him with your problems and have faith that he will solve them for you. He will keep you safe. He will protect you.
He will have to find another way.
Salauddin offered the morning prayer before reciting the Quran, asking Allah for guidance for his problems and good health for you.
He walked out of his room and turned to the corridor where your room was, only to find you sneaking out of the room with Isabelle. You were still wearing his white chaddar, and it engulfed your small body like a blanket as you hurriedly walked down-
You tripped on the bottom of the long chaddar and fell face first.
"Princess!" Isabelle cried out as she helped you up, but you quickly dusted yourself off and continued talking her ear off as if nothing had happened, the tail of the chaddar trailing behind you as Isabelle walked beside you to keep up with what you were saying.
"Idiot..." He whispered to himself, though he was smiling. He called a servant and ordered him to bring the finest chaddars and niqaabs for you. He cant have you tripping all over the place because you wear his chaddar that was too big for you, despite how adorable you looked in it.
-
You knocked on his door.
"Salauddin, I was going to the market-"
"And you came to ask for permission? Okay, granted." He waved you off with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes. "Where do you get the audacity- nevermind. I came to ask if you'd lend me a few gold coins? I need to buy some things, souvenirs if you will." You had lost your coin purse in the desert and you need to pay Abbas.
He raised a brow. "What do you need? I can have it brought to you here."
You pursed your lips. Why is he being difficult? "I dont know what I need until I look. Just give me some money, I promise to pay you back as soon as I can."
He stood up, walking upto you but you neither backed away nor moved your eyes from him. "Its not about the money." He pulled out a pouch and dropped it in your hands. "I worry for your safety. Who knows how many others Guy has hired to kill you? I'm coming along."
"Aww, you're worried about me? That's so sweet-"
"I wouldnt want my image to tarnish because a guest died in my care." Your smile dropped as you grumbled something under your breath.
"Whatever. I still dont need you to tag along-"
"Good thing about being the sultan is that I dont need anyone's permission." He cut you off before walking past you. You stomped after him. "Salauddin, dont you have work-"
"You can either come with me or stay in your room for the rest of your stay here." He stated.
-
"What?" He heard you snicker beside him. Your eyes twinkled with amusement. "Oh, its just these rags suit you a lot." Salauddin and his guards had worn disguises to blend in with the commoners. He didnt want to draw attention to you two.
He rolled his eyes. "I have to blend in for your safety-" "I have never looked more in danger than I do right now. Look around and see people staring at a lady dressed so modestly is surrounded by brooding men wearing rags." You giggled as Salauddin looked around to see some people were indeed looking your way.
You stopped at a small stall that was selling some jewellery. You were looking at some rings, trying to choose something for Sibylla. The shopkeeper, an old man must've seen Salauddin standing over your shoulder looking around for any suspicious men.
"Son, why dont you help your wife pick something? Focus on her!" The shopkeeper said, catching you both off guard. You looked at Salauddin and laughed at his surprised face. Continuing to pull his leg, you stared up at him and batted your lashes. "Well, husband? What do you think would suit me?" You asked raising two different earrings to your face. One had a ruby in it, the other had sapphire.
He looked at you for a moment.
"Neither."
Your smile underneath your veil vanished, and you placed the earrings back on the table.
"The blue opal ones." He nodded his head as the shopkeeper handed him the tear drop gold earrings that had the precious stones fixed in it. He brought the earrings near your face, never touching it as his eyes assessed his pick.
"They bring out your eyes." He said before paying the old man and giving them to you, all while you were looking at him in awe.
"Wait! Why did you pay? I had the money." You two had begun walking again. "You mean the money I gave you?" You frowned. "I'm gonna pay you back." He smiled. "You dont need to. I have enough. As for the earrings... consider them a gift."
"Gift?"
He hummed, his chest puffed up. "Part of the hospitality of the sultan."
You glared at him before smiling. "Thanks." You two continued to walk around the market, Salauddin gave alms to the poor he encountered. You were standing at another stall, watching in fascination as the man ground up the black powder and mixed it with oils to make kohl. He filled it up in a beautiful vessel before asking if you'd like to try it.
"Oh, I dont know how to." Especially not without a mirror, which the man didnt have. But he was persistent to sell his product and when he looked at Salauddin's kohl lined eyes, he offered it to him.
"Would you apply it on your wife?" This time, Salauddin didnt react like he did the earlier when he was associated with you. He took the wooden stick dipped in the kohl and looked at you for permission.
You gave a nod. He walked upto you, gently cupping your veil covered face. You thanked God for the niqaab, or else he would've seen how violently you were blushing.
"Chin up." He whispered before tilting your chin up. Your eyes shifted as they stared into his brown ones. "Open wide." He ordered, even though your eyes were already saucer shaped from the close proximity.
He began tracing the soft edge of the stick along the waterline of your right eye. He seemed to have noticed that you were holding your breath. "Relax." He softly commanded, patting your cheek with his thumb. That broke you out of your trance as you narrowed your eyes at him.
"Dont tell me what to do." You grumbled. "Open wide." He ordered again bringing the stick up to your left eye for a second coat. You hated the way he commanded you, hated that he seemed to be having his fun with this.
"Dont order-"
"If you dont listen to me, I will marry you today." Your eyes blew wide open in shock.
"What-?!"
"Hush." He smiled placing kohl on your now wide eyes. "Whats wrong? You seemed to enjoy playing my wife but when I joke to marry you, you dont like it."
He's... joking?
Without realising, you blinked causing the still wet kohl to spread in your eyes. Salauddin had pulled the stick back just in time to not poke your eye out.
You hissed in pain, raising your hand to rub your eyes but Salauddin caught your wrist pushing it down.
"Open your eyes, Y/n. Look at me. I said- look at me." You opened your eyes to stare at him, your vision blurry from the mixture of tears and kohl.
Salauddin grabbed his handkerchief and began to dab the excess away as he tutted at you to stay still. Once he was done wiping the excess away, he blew cold air on your irritated eyes gently.
"I swear... if you dont sit still, I really will marry you today." He threatened you as he watched your red eyes glare at him. He didnt like that you were in pain, even if your own stupidity was the cause of it. This time when he applied kohl, you didnt dare to move an inch.
Fortunately, he worked faster this time around.
He gave a nod of approval when he was done. You dont know whether it was because he liked how your eyes looked now or if he was admiring his own work.
Salauddin handed the man money before taking a few bottles of kohl.
For the next hour, you two walked around in silence mostly. The image of your kohl lined eyes occupied his mind, not only because of how beautiful they were but also all the emotions that switched in a matter of seconds. You could try and hide your feelings all you want but your eyes tell. The eyes... they're the window to one's soul.
He saw attraction, anger, mesmerisation, disgust and pain in your eyes. Or maybe he's overthinking this. Maybe it was all just momentary and you really do hate the idea of being married to him.
You were both standing at yet another shop, this one was selling dates. Salauddin walked inside the shop a little more to inspect the quality of the dates, expecting you to be following behind him but when he turned around, you were gone. He walked outside the shop, hoping to find you there but it seemed like you had vanished. Even his guards hadnt seen you.
And then, as Salauddin whipped his head around, he saw the silloutte of your chadar disappearing around the corner. He ran after you, hoping to not lose you in the crowd but as soon as he turned around the corner, he couldnt spot you anywhere. He ran down the street, looking left and right but you werent there.
Where are you, Y/n?
He began walking back towards the main street when in the corner of his eye, he caught the sight of a familiar chadar. He turned his head to the right and there you were, standing with your back to him under the shadow of the large canopy of the shop talking to some man.
He walked up behind you, the man you were talking to seeing him first.
"Y/n." He snapped. You turned startled before your shoulders relaxed at the sight of him. "Oh, its just you. Did you buy the dates?"
Dates? You're asking him about dates after you just made his heart stop for a few minutes?
"Why did you leave me?" Ya Allah, that came out way more desperate than he wanted it to.
"I was getting something from this man." He raised a brow, almost as if he didnt believe you. You sighed. "This is Abbas. I hired him to make some things for me?"
"Such as?" You narrowed your eyes at his accusatory tone before nodding at Abbas, who then pulled out a heaxagonal shaped board that looked somewhat similar to a-
"Its 3 people chess!" You exclaimed, bouncing on your feet as you handed it to Salauddin. "I designed it and had Abbas make it for you!"
"For me?" He asked, turning the board around as he tried to understand how it would work.
"Yeah. I wanted to thank you for saving my life. And for your hospitality. And for lending me money."
His eyes softened slightly. "You dont need to thank me, Y/n. Its... my duty. I'm responsible for you." You waved him off. "Yeah yeah. Look, just take this and I'll teach you how to play so that one day you could play it with your wife and... kid? Or maybe with your wife and Baldwin? Or two wives-?"
"Y/n, I appreciate the gift but I would appreciate your silence more now." You pouted at his words but never the less, you both left to return to the palace, unaware of the eyes watching you two.
The mysterious figure wrote down what he'd seen before using messenger eagle to deliver the note to Jerusalem.
-
It had almost been a week in Egypt. You and Salauddin were having lunch together when a guard came to him and whispered something in his ear, the sultan frowning.
"Whats wrong?" You asked him.
He looked at you. "Baldwin... he's coming to Egypt."
"What? When?"
"He's crossed the desert. He should be getting here today, in a few hours." Salauddin was still frowning. Why is Baldwin coming to Egypt?
You shook your head. "Baldwin wouldnt ever leave Jerusalem, not unless..." Your eyes widened at the realisation.
"He's coming for a war." Salauddin confirmed.
Fuck.
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Part 7 is here!
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crescentmp3 · 2 years ago
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hiii im home! ^-^
#school went surprisingly well for the agonies (joints burn if moved)!#i got to rest my eyes enough to get rested (in a way) and got to talk with my friends!#also some fun lessons today if we dont count arabic (<-he understands but does not enjoy)#i do love my arabic teacher! she is very sweet. i would love the lesson too if she gave more praise but she does not so i do not#that sounds selfish typing it out. im sorry i run on praise from authoritive figures. or others in general but less so#we had math after that! we're doing roots again. this time its funkier#i quite surprisingly understood VERY well and made no mistakes in the example questions the teacher gave! which im proud of#i used to hate roots actually. i guess my teacher then didnt explain it well enough for me to understand#now that i understand them theyre really fun!#and astonishingly simple for what i thought of it beforehand. actually#oh then we had english! english my love#im sorry i love the teacher so much. one of my favorites i cannot lie#shes so sweet and gives great advice and GOD she dresses so pleasantly (usually closer to gothic blacks but sometimes more colorful)#hehe while we were writing vocabulary and i was already done writing them down and everyone else was writing she/#/sat down next to me and did a fun little quiz on me asking me to translate them all! and i did for most ^-^#some were harder to translate for their vague or multiple meanings‚ or just not crossing over well‚ but i did it!#it wasnt as much a quiz as it was a way for us both to not get bored! she is very much friendly for a teacher which i really appreciate#oh then we had health education. with can (pronounced jan btw) hoca ^-^ love him#he was very VERY rude to me yesterday and broke my poor little heart (made the entire class do as many push-ups and sits ups/#/as they can and i failed miserably (zero on both) and my muscles hurt so bad now (god help me))#but! he is very funny#most of the lesson was moreso the class having conversations with him than actually learning anything but thats for the best.#makes it more fun and easy to consume‚ really! for some reason the actual lesson stays in mind better. dont know why?#anyway! then we had geography#HATE the lesson even though i understand it cause the teacher is TERRIBLE at explaining anything. but im her favorite/#/so i cannot complain whatsoever. i know i know i shouldnt enjoy her having a bias for me. but i quite am to be straightforward#but anyway thats how it went today!#eating a hamburger right now (mom made it!) which is great.#my aches have gotten better so thats nice! my back is still on fire and i still cant flex any muscles near my stomach without pain though#♚ — rambling !
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chahnniesroom · 2 months ago
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cross my heart
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pairing: bang chan & female reader, hwang hyunjin & female reader
summary: chan has quickly become one of your closest friends at university. too bad his girlfriend, hayoon, has him wrapped around her little finger and she's determined to make your life miserable. hyunjin is just enjoying watching the drama unfold.
word count: 4.0k
tags/warnings: angst!!! hurt and maybe some comfort?, infidelity (not between the reader or chan/hyunjin), arguing, the relationships with the reader are more like friendships than dating (please let me know if you think there should be more tags/warnings)
a/n: totally thought this was going to be a short fic (like less than 1k words) but it blossomed into something more. i wanted to try something different with this fic but not sure if i pulled it off lol please be kind if you comment! i also did not to bother with honourifics so... you can pretend that chan, hyunjin, and y/n are all the same age 😅
read it on ao3 | masterlist
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It's almost funny how quickly you and Chan become friends. 
You hadn't really been looking forward to taking a technical writing class, but it's one of the requirements to get your degree and at least the lecture is large enough that you won't have to do any in-class participation. When the professor announces that one of the very first assignments is going to be completed in random pairs, you're instantly nervous. It’s only after meeting Chan, who is easygoing yet studious, that you feel better.
Although the group assignment only takes a couple weeks to finish, you find yourself hanging out more and more. Chan has a natural way of writing, he's intelligent and efficient with his wording without sacrificing clarity. While you can eventually write something that’s fairly clear and concise, it takes a lot of effort and a lot of time so you're grateful to be working with Chan who doesn't struggle with tight timelines like you do.
The two of you grow close together, especially once you realise that you have a similar sense of humour and taste in music. It doesn't take long before technical writing is your favourite class. Chan always saves you a seat beside him, even though he has quite a few friends that are also taking this course. You’re not used to it at first, but you grow comfortable with the way that he leans over to make quips about whatever the professor is saying or pointing out if someone in the lecture hall is falling asleep. You sometimes bring him snacks and in exchange he brings you a drink.
The more you learn about Chan, the more you're convinced that he's perfect.
Well, apart from one thing.
The worst thing about Chan is his girlfriend. Jung Hayoon absolutely hates you and, behind Chan's back, never fails to make sure you know it too. While the two of you have never shared any courses, she regularly meets Chan after class is over and you've been invited to join them and some other friends for a meal or to study so you've interacted with her more than you want to.
You’re not quite sure what you've done to earn Hayoon's ire, but you can only guess that it's your blossoming friendship with Chan as she’s never seemed to care about you before you met him. She takes every opportunity to make backhanded compliments, pointed comments about how much or what you're eating, or loudly exclaiming when you have something stuck in your teeth. You try not to let it get to you, but you're always been a bit too sensitive.
You start declining offers to hang out with Chan and the rest of his friends after class, trying to ignore Chan's disappointment and Hayoon's smug smile every time that you make excuses.
Of course, she's sickly sweet around Chan, constantly hanging off his arm, batting her eyes at him, and trying to hold his attention. You can't really stand her obviously fake behaviour, but she makes Chan happy so you don't say anything negative about her when Chan's around.
You aren’t the type to keep up with school gossip, but even you know that Hayoon's track record is far from pristine. In fact, you were surprised to hear that someone as genuine and kind as Chan was in a relationship with someone like Hayoon.
The library isn't your favourite place to study, but partway through midterm season you're desperate for a change in scenery. You spend the better part of the day completing practice exams for the course you're the most worried about until you finally feel more confident. Satisfied with your progress and excited at the prospect of eating a proper meal rather than the snacks that have kept you going so far, you quickly pack up.
There aren't too many people in the library since it’s so close to the weekend, a lot of students have either finished all of their exams for the week or just given up studying. Maybe that's why your attention seems so drawn to the couple that you pass on the way to the door.
You don't mean to do anything other than quickly glance at them, but the familiarity of the girl catches your eye. The carefully styled hair and slim figure is a common combination to see at your university, but after weeks of trying to avoid her, there’s no mistaking Jung Hayoon.
And it's not Chan that she’s currently kissing.
You stumble away from them, but not before Hayoon looks up and spots you. Instead of panicking or stopping, she continues making out with the boy, maintaining eye contact with you. She even has the audacity to wink. You stare at her for a second, stunned, then bolt out of the building.
You're so flustered that you don't know what to do or where to go. You end up walking to the nearest bench and sitting down heavily in it.
You knew that you didn't like Hayoon, that she was two-faced and had likely cheated on past partners, but you hadn't expected to ever catch her in the act, especially while she was dating Chan. You couldn't fathom why anybody would want anything else when they had him and you had never been able to understand cheating in the first place.
You have to tell Chan, you decide. As much as you hate difficult conversations and it kills you to be the bringer of bad news, you know that you'd never be able to sleep at night if you tried to hide this from him. If you were in his position, you would prefer to know as soon as possible.
You call him as you start heading in the direction of his dorm.
“Hey,” Chan picks up after only a few rings. “Is everything okay? You don't usually call.”
“Uhm-” You have no clue what to say, you didn't think this through enough before dialling. “Where are you? I- Can I come talk to you?”
“Y/n? What's wrong?” Chan's instantly concerned.
“Nothing, I just- I really need to talk to someone right now,” you say quickly. “I'm fine, I mean.”
“Okay. I'm at home right now, but I can come meet you if you need? Where are you?”
“Don't worry about it, I'll head over, if that's okay.”
“Sure,” Chan says, sounding extremely worried. “Be safe, Y/n. I'll see you soon.”
After you hang up, you don't quite run to Chan's place, but you're out of breath and sweaty by the time you make it. You take a moment to compose yourself before requesting access into the building, but you know you still look frazzled. Chan buzzes you in immediately and he’s waiting in the hallway when you step out of the elevator. He guides you into his room, but only after checking you over and making sure that you're physically okay.
“Y/n, you're scaring me,” he says after leading both of you to sit down at his tiny kitchen table. “Tell me what's got you so worked up.”
“Do you know where Hayoon is today?” you ask, probably sounding insane. Chan pauses for a moment, brow furrowed before he responds.
“I know that she has an exam tomorrow, so I assume that she's studying. Why, what's up?”
“She didn't say where or who she was going to be with today?”
“No, but it's not like I'm tracking her all the time. She's her own person, she's not obligated to constantly update me.”
“I saw her at the library.”
“Okay,” Chan says slowly.
“She was with someone else, a guy.”
“Why are you telling me this, Y/n?” Chan asks, starting to sound annoyed. His tone catches you off guard.  “This is why you called me, why you ran over to my place? If you think I'm that controlling-”
“They were kissing,” you interrupt. “She’s cheating on you, Chan.”
“Who was the guy?”
“I- I didn't see him well, his back was towards me so I couldn't recognize him,” you falter.
“Did you take a picture? Was there anyone else around?”
“No- but, I-”
“So I'm just supposed to believe you,” he says flatly.
“What? Why would I make this up?”
“I know that, for some reason, you don’t like Hayoon.” Chan's usually friendly voice is cold and his face is stony. “I can live with that. I mean, of course it would be nice if you were at least civil to her. But at the end of the day, you don’t have to, she’s my girlfriend and not yours.”
“Okay,” you say slowly, “but how would lying about this benefit me at all?”
“She warned me about this, you know. She said you were jealous. Of her. Of us. That you would do something to try and break us up.” Chan laughs, but the sound is empty. “I always defended you, which she hated. I don't know how many times I told her that you weren't like that, that there was nothing going on between us.”
“Well I can assure you that I’m not jealous. That I’m not trying to break you two up.”
“I know that there’s… chemistry between us,” Chan acknowledges. “I don't have that many close female friends and I didn't before I started dating Hayoon either, but I know that I like your company and that you're easy to talk to. But that's all. It's fine if you're interested in me, you can’t help your feelings, but accusing my girlfriend of cheating? That’s sick, Y/n.”
“Are you kidding me? There is nothing going on between us.” you say incredulously. “Listen Chan, I’m saying this, I'm here as a friend. You think I'm lying? You think I want to hurt you?”
“I think that maybe Hayoon had a point when she said you wouldn't be satisfied with just being friends.”
“That's what you think of me?” you ask, feeling hurt. “Even if I was interested, I wouldn't do that. I respect you as a friend, I respect you as a person, and I respect your relationship whether I like your partner or not. But if that’s how you see me, I’m not sure that we were ever really friends. I would never try to sabotage you or anybody that's happily in a relationship.” Chan's face drops at your words.
“Y/n-” he starts to say, but you've had enough of this conversation.
“Look- I came here because I knew I would feel terrible and guilty if I didn't, but I can't convince you of something you don't want to believe.” You shake your head and walk towards the door.
Chan doesn't try to stop you as you leave.
 —
The next day you get to class 15 minutes before it’s supposed to start. You're exhausted, have your eyes swollen from crying when you got back home last night, and most of all, feel hurt. You had been a little worried about how Chan would react to what you had to tell him, but you never expected that he would dismiss you without a thought. It's hard to reconcile with the upbeat and kind seatmate that you're used to.
Instead of your usual seat near the middle of the classroom, you opt for one off to the side that’s often emptier, not wanting to have to talk to or even see Chan. You pull up an assignment that you’ve been procrastinating working on and manage to ignore the rest of your classmates as they filter into the lecture hall. It’s only when someone slides into the seat right next to you that you look up, surprised anybody would approach you when you’re clearly being unsociable and look awful.
“Hyunjin.” You’re too shocked to even say hello.
“That’s my name,” Hyunjin replies, looking unimpressed by your greeting as he pulls out his laptop. “Good morning to you, too.”
“Sorry, good morning. You don’t usually sit with me.” You can’t help but point out the obvious. 
In fact, Hyunjin usually doesn't sit with anyone. He's popular, it'd be hard not to be when you look as good as he does, but it's in a different way than Chan. While Chan seems to know practically everybody on campus, Hyunjin is almost untouchable.
While there are hoards of girls and guys that would love to have even a sliver of his attention, Hyunjin has a small circle of friends and is more interested in escaping the lecture hall to paint or dance than socialise. The only reason that you know him is because one of your closest childhood friends, Minho, is on the same dance crew as him and the three of you sometimes hang out. You wouldn't say that Hyunjin is more than an acquaintance though, he still intimidates you enough that you never would have tried to approach him first.
“And you don’t usually sit over here.” Hyunjin pretends to stretch and turns to look at your usual spot. “Avoiding someone?”
“Maybe.” You blush, embarrassed to be so easily seen through. “Is it that noticeable?”
“Nah, I just figured it was a matter of time before Hayoon got under your skin enough. I'm actually impressed you lasted this long, she really has it out for you.” While Hyunjin is surprisingly perceptive, you've also spent a fair bit of time ranting about Hayoon to Minho, and as a result, Hyunjin is kept up to speed on everything that Hayoon has done to antagonise you. You never realised that he actually paid enough attention to remember or that he agreed that Hayoon treated you like dirt.
“Actually, she’s not the one that I don’t want to talk to. Well, I never want to talk to her, but I’m not avoiding her.”
“No way,” Hyunjin crowds into your personal space, eyebrows raised dramatically. “Chan?”
You’ve had a pit in your stomach since last night’s argument and your mouth dries up at the thought of being so vulnerable, but something about the way that Hyunjin's eyes have widened to the size of dinner plates and his mouth has formed a little shocked ‘o’ is so disarming. 
“We had a disagreement last night,” you admit.
“Hayoon cheated?” he guesses.
Now it's your turn for your mouth to drop open in shock.
“Don't say it so loud,” you hiss. “How did you know?”
“Well, as much as I usually like to give people the benefit of the doubt, especially for something this serious…” Hyunjin grimaces slightly. “I’ve been kind of expecting it. Hasn't she done the same on her past three or four boyfriends?”
“Oof, that bad? I've heard some things, but never really knew for sure.”
“At least,” Hyunjin confirms. “Honestly, I'd be more shocked if she didn't cheat at this point. I'm guessing Chan didn't take it so well if you're upset with him.”
“He's loyal to a fault, literally!” you complain. “In his eyes, Hayoon can’t do anything wrong, he's able to explain away everything she does. He didn’t believe that it was her that I saw.”
“So what are you going to do?” Hyunjin asks curiously.
“Nothing,” you say sullenly. “As much as I'd like to shake some sense into him, he's an adult. He can make his own decisions and if he wants to live in denial, that's up to him.”
“You're a good friend.” Hyunjin reaches out tentatively and after an awkward second, pats your shoulder. “Not everyone would be brave enough to have that kind of difficult conversation. Chan may be stubborn right now, but he'll appreciate it later.”
“Well based on yesterday, I don't think I'm his friend at all,” you huff. “Anyway, if it's okay with you, I don't think that I will make it through the rest of the term if I have to sit over there.”
“Be my guest.” Hyunjin grins and the sight of it makes the lecture a bit easier to sit through.
You don’t talk to Chan for the rest of the term. While you stopped outright avoiding him, you’re pretty sure that he’s purposely steering clear of you. Instead, you continue to sit with Hyunjin and pretend that Chan doesn’t exist.
It feels silly that you miss him or that you can’t seem to get over how things ended between the two of you. You had only been friends for two months, you shouldn’t be so hurt every time he purposely turns away from you or when his eyes seem to slide over you like you’re not there.
Hyunjin basically becomes your part-time therapist. Most of the time, it’s enough that he keeps you distracted. He shares all the latest campus gossip with you, allows you to work while he paints, and invites you to hang out with Minho and the rest of their dance crew more than a few times. On the rare occasion when you’re feeling more fragile than usual, he would be willing to spend an evening at your place and listen to you wallow.
“It’s fair that you’re still upset,” he had comforted you once. You had run into Hayoon in the bathroom that afternoon and she had gloated about how nothing and nobody would be able to break her and Chan apart. It had made you feel sick to the stomach. “There was never any resolution. Chan didn’t believe you, doesn’t believe you, even though you went to him with good intentions and it’s reasonable that you would feel hurt or frustrated.”
“I feel so stupid,” you had sniffled. “It’s not even like it was a break up. We were just friends.”
“That doesn’t make it any easier, you’re still missing someone who used to be in your life. It’ll get easier next term when you don’t share a class, I promise.” Somehow, that actually had made you feel better.
“Thanks, Hyunjin,” you had said with a watery smile.
The two of you work out well together, not just because you enjoy each other’s presence, but also because there’s no expectations or pressure. Hyunjin has slowly started to share with you stories about his previous relationships, how he’s hesitant to start dating again after having his heart broken so many times. Even though there are rumours swirling about the two of you, you know that neither of you are ready for it yet and that’s partly why it's so easy to hang out with him.
Tonight, the two of you are just hanging out in his art studio. You're mindlessly scrolling on your phone, you’ve just finished the exam that you've been dreading the most and don't have the brain capacity to even think about school. You know that Hyunjin is doing the same, you can see it out of the corner of your eye, but he's trying to pretend that he's working since his painting is due the next day.
He drops all pretences when he gasps loudly at something that he sees on his phone.
“Y/n,” he says gravely.
“What?” you ask, only slightly curious. By now, you've gotten used to the fact that Hyunjin would react the same way to seeing a cute puppy video as he would finding out about some terrible news.
“A friend just texted me,” he says, still in shock.
“Okay? What did they say?”
Hyunjin looks up at you for a moment, down at his phone, then back up at you.
“ChanandHayoonbrokeup,” he says in a rush, before wincing, clearly afraid of what your reaction is going to be.
“What?” You can't believe your ears.
“Chan and Hayoon, apparently they broke up this afternoon. Someone heard them shouting at each other.”
You put down your pencil slowly, not sure what to think.
“Do you know why?”
“Someone said that they heard that yesterday, Heeyeon and Yikyung broke up because Yikyung cheated on her. I think it must be related,” Hyunjin says quietly.
“Oh.”
“I think there's pictures or a video out there, I haven't seen anything yet though,” Hyunjin continues on, starting to get excited while typing away on his phone. 
“Oh,” you say again, at a loss for actual words.
“Right before the holidays too, that's so-” Hyunjin cuts himself off when he looks up and sees you frozen in place. “Y/n, are you okay? Sorry, I'm sure it's a lot to process-”
“No, it's fine.” You force a smile. “I just- I think I have to go home now.”
“Y/n-”
“Really, it's okay. I just forgot that I have something to do. At home. Sorry.”
Hyunjin stares at you with eyes filled with something akin to pity, but doesn't say anything else. You try to ignore it as you hurriedly grab your things and leave.
A few days later you're packing up your bags in preparation to go home for the winter break when you hear a knock at your door. You weren't expecting anybody, but there's a few friends that you have that like to show up unannounced. 
You're not prepared to open the door and find Chan standing behind it.
He looks terrible. He's wearing a huge hoodie and his hair is tucked away behind a beanie, but nothing can hide the way that his eyes are swollen and his skin is lacking its usual colour. You can only guess that he hasn't been able to eat or sleep much judging from the gauntness of his face and dark circles.
“Chan,” you say carefully. “What are you doing here?”
“I'm sorry,” he says with a hoarse voice. “I was wrong.”
“Ah, Hayoon.”
“You heard?” he asks, face crumpling a little at the mention of his ex.
“It's-” You pause for a moment, trying to figure out how to put it delicately. "Someone mentioned it to me.”
“You must hate me.” Chan laughs humourlessly. “I know that I do. I was such a fool for not trusting you. I just didn't want to believe that she would do that to me. Stupid, I know. I'm really sorry that I said all those things to you, that I avoided you as if that would change the truth.”
For months, you've been waiting, hoping that Chan would come back to you and apologise. But actually hearing it isn't as satisfying as you thought. In fact, you don't really feel anything at all.
“I want to make it up to you,” Chan says earnestly. “Are you free? We can go for a meal and catch up. I missed you.”
“Uhm,” you say, not quite sure how to respond. You don't want to say yes, but you're scared to lose this opportunity.
“Actually, she's busy,” Hyunjin says. He steps out from behind Chan and wraps an arm around your waist possessively, nudging you behind him in the process. “I think it would be best if you leave.”
Normally you hate it when other people talk for you, but right now you're grateful that Hyunjin appeared. You're not even sure why he's here, although you mentioned that this was your last day on campus, the two of you didn't have plans to hang out.
“Oh.” Chan falters. “Are you two… together?”
“And if we are?” Hyunjin asks challengingly. You've never seen him this defensive before. “Frankly, it's none of your business. I'm tired of listening to your half-hearted apologies that are months too late and I'm pretty sure that Y/n isn't interested in them either.”
“Y/n?” Chan pleads.
“Hyunjin's right, I think that you should go,” you say from where you're still hidden behind Hyunjin. You're glad that you don't have to look him in the eyes. “I can't- I'm heading home today. I have to pack before my train leaves this afternoon.”
“Right,” Chan says thickly. “Sorry. I- I'm sorry, Y/n.”
You lean into Hyunjin's back for support, squeezing your eyes shut as you hear Chan's footsteps trail away. You don't open them for a long time, even when you feel Hyunjin turn around and wrap his arms around you. Instead, you just focus on the steady thump of Hyunjin's heartbeat and try to remember how to breathe.
read it on ao3 | masterlist
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papercorgiworld · 7 months ago
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I don't need space, I need you
Mattheo and Theodore fluff
Based on this request, please don't hate me for taking 29 days to post this rather average piece, but I had a lot of requests and not a lot of time. I hope you like it!
Finally I had time to write today! Big yey for me, people. I needed it and I'm so happy I wrote something today. 💛 Sending you lots of love and of course: happy readings!
A/N: I got some stuff going on in life so if I don't respond, I'm sorry. Just know that I love you. 💛
There was a request for a Draco and Enzo version: you can read it here
Mattheo
“Where’s my princess?” Mattheo sings as he enters the common room in search of you. “Not here, I would check the library.” Blaise states not looking up from his book. Mattheo nods and is about to turn around to head straight for the library, but Draco’s snickering stops him from doing so. “I bet you’re pleased to have a moment of peace.” Mattheo focuses on Draco, not completely getting where the blond's going with this. “I honestly pity you, man, must be so suffocating.” Suddenly all eyes are on Mattheo and not just his friends, the entire slytherin common room is curious to hear what the big bad boy has to say. Mattheo moves a nervous hand through his curls and chuckles. “Yeah, she’s a bit much with her hugs and cuddles, and urgh those constant questions to check on me. I’m lucky she studies so much, so I have a break from time to time.” Mattheo sits down opposite of Draco who grins and nods, fully believing that Mattheo feels saved by your absence. However, Mattheo felt miserable sitting there, knowing that he could be spending time with you.
Just like Mattheo was searching the castle for you, you had been searching for him and ended up checking the common room. With watery eyes you turn around, unnoticed by anyone, and leave the common room. He thinks I’m too much?
***
“Who is it?!” Mattheo yells as he pushes you against the wall of an empty hallway. He rarely raised his voice with you, but now his face was close to yours, his eyes dark and piercing yours. He looks more pained than angry, but you just look confused. To him it was obvious, you had fallen out of love with him and probably found someone else. There was plenty of proof:
A quick kiss on the lips and a wish of good luck before Tuesday's test was all Mattheo got, instead of the tight hug and intense kiss you would normally give him before a test. 
When you got your results back on Wednesday you jumped into Luna’s arms and just gave him a happy smile, while he was standing right there next to Luna. His heart ached to hold you and press you against his chest. Worse was when you asked Enzo about his test first and ended up discussing all the answers, barely giving your boyfriend any attention.
Thursday you went to sit next to Pansy in the common room, instead of settling in your boyfriend’s lap. Mattheo was forced to watch you the whole evening without touching you once. When you left for bed, you told him not to walk you to your room and reminded him to spend some much needed time with his friends. The sweet kiss you gave him, didn’t make up for any of it. 
Were you trying to get rid of him? To Mattheo the case was obvious.
Friday was the worst. Happy to finally have you next to him as you were both reading, settled close by the fire. With his eyes still on the page of his own book his arm moved behind you to pull you closer and you let your head rest on his shoulder as you continued to read, but still Mattheo frowned. Normally you would sling your legs over his and cuddle up against his chest, wrapping your blanket around the both of you and creating this warm bubble of love. He could barely focus on his book, as his eyes constantly wandered to you reading next to him but not cuddled up against him like you used to.
So by Saturday Mattheo had pretty much had it with you. You rubbed your temple as squeezed your eyes. “I have a headache, I’m gonna head to my room and rest for a bit.” You got up from your seat to leave the library and Mattheo did the same. If you weren’t feeling well then he needed to be by your side. “Oh, don’t Matt. I’ll be fine. I’ll ask Pansy to give me something against the pain and settle next to me until I fall asleep.” Mattheo stood perplexed as you just kissed him and left. Now he wasn’t even good enough to take care of you anymore.
This was the moment he snapped. With stern strides he follows you.
“Who is it?!” You frowned at the question and met Mattheo’s dark eyes. “Obviously, you’re done with me. So who’s better than me, huh?” His voice was filled with anger, but his question sounded so heartbreaking, that you felt no need to get angry with him for pushing you against the wall and snapping at you. You cup his cheeks and softly shake your head. “Matt, I love you. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Your voice is calm and endearing, reminding him of how much he needed your love. You were always so gentle with him and feeling you slip away the past week hurt so much that he felt like falling apart on the spot. He's too hurt and afraid to lose you to act tough and with a whisper he confesses his worries. “You don’t check up on me anymore. You don’t wish me luck before a test like you used to. We don’t cuddle anymore.” You stare at him in silence for a moment, you had never seen Mattheo this soft and vulnerable before. 
Your hands still resting on his cheeks move to his neck as you wrap your arms around him and pull him against you. Mattheo snuggles his face in your neck, embarrassed with himself and desperate for your warmth. You rest your head against his and your fingers move through his curls, making him sigh at your touch. “You told Draco I was a bit too much. So I backed off, because I didn’t want to lose you. I know I can get clingy sometimes, I’m sorry.” Mattheo moves away to look at you and his eyes look guilty. “No, no. Don’t apologise. Don’t be sorry. I love you clingy and cuddly. I need you to be around me.” Your eyebrows knit together. “But I heard you say-” Mattheo interrupts you and shakes his head. “I was being stupid. Don’t listen to the things I say. Just stay with me and love me… overwhelm me with everything you have.” You tilt your head in confusion. “No, I mean listen to me, just forget about what I said back then. I- I was trying to act tough so I pretended to- you know.” You chuckle. “You pretended not to like cuddles, because you wanted to be a tough guy?” Embarrassed with himself Mattheo nods. “I’m a softy for you and I need my daily dose of love. I don’t need space.” 
You sigh at Mattheo’s pouty face. “My boyfriend’s an idiot.” Mattheo nods and leans in for a kiss. “Please, let me take you to your room and let me take care of you, because I want nothing more than to be around you.” You pull him in for another intense kiss as an answer and as you walk to your dorm, he squeezes your hand the whole time walking.
Theodore
“Where’s my lady?” Theodore frowns as he sits down opposite of Blaise, who raises his shoulders without looking up from his book. Theo shakes his head in annoyance, he needed you like he needed cigarettes. He spent the whole day longing for your love and warm embraces. Merlin, all he wanted right now was for you to entangle your fingers with his hair and ask him about his day. “For once the two of you aren’t attached to the hip.” Mattheo quips and Draco snickers. “Must be refreshing to have a moment to yourself.” Theodore stays silent for a moment and a little further, near the common room entrance you halt in your step. “She’s so mothering, it’s almost toxic. I don’t know how you do it, mate.” Draco wiggles his eyebrows at Theo as Mattheo talks. “You know, if you ever need us to come save you, we could always come up with a code word.” Draco offers and Theodore chuckles, not knowing what to say. “It’s not toxic, but I’m happy to have a moment with you guys, because she can be a bit much. She’s always so… clingy.” You chew your lip and slowly take a step back, leaving the common room as the word ‘clingy’ rings in your head. 
***
You didn’t want to lose your boyfriend due to being too clingy. So you decided to keep your distance. 
Instead of spending your evening studying cuddled up with your boyfriend you ask Hermione to help you out with potions who of course never passes the opportunity to study. Keeping up his tough act in front of his friends, Theodore can’t protest as you leave the common room to go study with your friend instead of with him. Theo feels himself get cold as he sits by the fireplace with his friends. If you’re not there to keep him warm the room just feels empty and even the conversations are boring. He can’t help but curse himself for letting you go study with Hermione. Having to make peace with an evening without you, Theodore longs for the next day and having you next to him during breakfast while you talk about your plans for the day. 
The next morning, at breakfast Theo only gets a small kiss from you before you turn to Pansy gossiping about some third years. Theodore can’t resist but snake an arm around you and you love his touch, but you try not to be too clingy and decide to not fully lean against him. Your boyfriend is happy to have you next to him, but disappointed that you stay engaged with Pansy’s gossip instead of giving him some much needed attention. Why were you not combing his hair with your fingers until it looked the way you preferred it? Why were you not checking if he had done all his homework? What was so bloody interesting about Pansy’s conversation?!! He was getting so annoyed that he was caught by surprise when you kissed him tenderly and headed for class. His mind and body were screaming to have you back by his side and walk you to class, but he just turned to his breakfast and spent the morning sulking.
Finally, after two days, he had you close to him, settled on his bed with a book in your hand. You were all alone in his room and you both enjoyed the peace and quiet. You lay between his legs with his arms around you, while his head rested on yours, reading some of the paragraphs of your book but mostly taking in your warmth and scent. He gives you a soft kiss on your cheek and you smile and lean against his chest. “I love you.” You whisper and his eyes shine even brighter than he smiles. “Love you too.” However, your romantic moment is ruined when Blaise and Mattheo enter. “Astronomy tower?” Mattheo raises his eyebrows at Theo who is about to decline the invitation, but you speak up first. “I was just about to meet up with Luna.” You jump up and Theodore's eyes go furious at the suggestion of you leaving. “No you’re not.” Theo snaps at you, shaking everyone in the room. “Why are you so eager to get away from me?” Theo questions and Blaise and Mattheo’s eyes move from their friend to you. You take a step back at your boyfriend's accusation. “I’m not. I’m just giving you space so you can hang out with your friends.” Theo shoots Blaise and Mattheo a dark glare. “Out! Both of you!” 
As soon as the duo closes the door behind them and you and Theodore are left alone in the room Theodore gets up and towers over you. “I don’t want space, I want you. So tell me what’s going on, because I can’t stand it anymore.” His voice is stern, but you feel yourself relax as you no longer have to act differently and you can finally be honest with him. “You think I’m clingy and sometimes I’m too much… and I get that and I don’t want to lose you… so I did my best to give you some space in the hopes of saving our relationship.” Theodore’s heart aches at the soft tone of your voice. How could he make you feel like you were too much when you were all he wanted. “I’m such a shit boyfriend.” Theo sighs as he sits back down on his bed, making you frown and join him. “No, I was too much.” Theo’s head snaps to you. “You are not. I didn’t want those idiots to think I was whipped or soft or- so I said you were clingy, but you're not, if anything I am… I want you around 24/7.” Your eyes widen at his confession. “Soooo, you’re saying that ‘the’ Theodore Nott is so in love with me that he prefers cuddling over hanging with his friends.” Your boyfriend chuckles. “Yeah, so please just go back to reading in my arms and make me the happiest man alive.” You lean towards him and he meets your lips. The sweet kiss quickly turns passionate as you both fall back on the bed.
For the ones who asked to be tagged, here you go lovies: @ho3forfakeguys and @bitchoftoji
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runawrites-blog · 2 months ago
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In Tune (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
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Summary: During a chance few situations, everyone in your and Bucky's social circle gets to notice how in tune with each other you two are. (Female Reader) Word Count: 3,958 Warnings: Non-Graphic Violence/ Referenced Fighting. Non Graphic Injuries. Non-Graphic Panic Attacks/ Aftermath of Panic Attacks. No Y/N. Petnames (Love, Sweetheart) A/N: Bucky has a panic attack in the VII part but it's not graphic and Steve basically stumbles in on the scene when he has already managed to calm down again. Also, the injury is that the reader got stabbed and Bucky is worried for her. Crossposted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58773439
---
I.
The way back from your mission left you all freezing in the back of the SHIELD van you’d escaped. With two windows busted in and a huge hole shot into the side, the wind was now blowing through the vehicle as you descended the snowy mountain and made your way toward a SHIELD safe house.
Natasha’s eyes drifted across everyone on board, watching how Steve kept taking one hand off the steering wheel whenever possible to try and warm it up, how Sam was shivering in the seat next to her, how Clint had his arms tightly wrapped around himself and you pulling your jacket around your body as shivers wracked your form. She looked at Bucky and watched how he kept flexing his flesh hand, likely trying to keep the blood circulating and thereby keep it warm. What set him apart from everyone else was that, while the rest of the team looked miserable, Bucky looked more anxious than anything.
But before she could ask him if he was alright, Natasha noticed how you were also looking at Bucky. Your eyes flicked from his hand to his deep frown and back, a concerned expression on your face. It didn’t take you long to move, taking Bucky’s flesh hand into both of yours before bringing it up to your face to blow on it in the hopes of warming it up. To Natasha’s surprise Bucky almost instantly relaxed as you began to blow warm air onto his hand, turning to look at you with a thankful smile.
“Better?”
“Warmer.” He answered, balling his hand into a fist as you once again blew warm air onto his skin. “Thank you, Sweetheart.”
“I know how much you hate being cold.” You murmured, wrapping both your hands around his as you gave him a comforting smile. “If this is what I can do to help, then I’ll do it. No need to thank me, Love.”
Natasha watched you two with a fond expression, realising how in tune you were with each other, how you’d realised what had made Bucky so anxious in a matter of seconds and how you’d immediately known how to help him. It was understandable that after everything he’d been through he hated being cold but Natasha also knew as well as anyone on the team that Bucky would have suffered through his discomfort in silence had it not been for your quick reaction. And she was thankful that her friend had someone who loved and supported him.
---
II.
“Uno.”
Clint watched as Bucky, Natasha and you all stared at him putting down his second to last card, warning everyone that he had almost won. And he knew that if no one put down a draw two or a draw four card or changed the colour he was bound to win this game.
“Seriously?” Natasha said in faked exasperation, laughing as she leaned back in the seat of the SHIELD plane you were all taking on your way to another mission. “You’ve won how many times now? Four?”
“Five.”
“I still think you shouldn’t have won that last one.”
“We agreed that you were allowed to stack draw four cards onto other draw four cards or onto draw two cards, so I took advantage of that.”
Clint grinned at Natasha’s expression before turning back to you and Bucky, sitting opposite him at the table. But you two weren’t looking at him, at least not fully. While your eyes still kept flicking back to Clint, you were much more focused on Bucky next to you, raising your eyebrows as if asking him an unsaid question. Bucky was fully looking at you and when he saw your expression he closed is eyes, his head moving just the smallest fraction to give you a nod. Before Cint could even think about what you two were possibly planning Natasha put down her card, a simple blue seven.
Then it was Bucky’s turn and he placed his card down with the faintest smirk on his lips. “Draw two.”
For a second Clint wondered why Bucky was smirking like that because it was you that would have to draw two more cards and with the colour still being blue he would still get to place his last one. Then he saw the grin spreading on your face as you put your card onto the pile in the middle of the table. “Draw four. Now you have to draw six cards, Clint.”
“Doll, you also get to choose a colour.”
Clint watched your smirk grow at the chuckle in Bucky’s voice. “You’re right, Sweetheart. Well then, I choose green.”
“You have to be kidding me, you two! Did you seriously team up with each other, just so I wouldn’t win?”
Bucky chuckled at that, shrugging his shoulders at Clint. “And we did that without even having to exchange a word.”
“That was very creepy, yes.”
“I thought it was kind of sweet.”
“Nat, you only think so because it means I’m not winning the game.”
“I really do think it’s sweet how in synch they are.”
---
III.
“You can relax, I won’t hurt you and I will fix up that malfunction in your arm.”
But it was obvious to Tony that Bucky could not simply relax, not when he was sitting in a sterile-looking room, in a cold metal chair as the other man got ready to dig into the wires of his arm. He was sure the only reason Bucky had even agreed to let Tony take a look at his arm was that you had come along with the promise of making sure no one did anything he didn’t want. But Bucky still looked terribly tense despite your presence in the room. You stood by the side, obviously worried about getting in the way as Tony started to set everything up.
“Seriously, Bucky, you’re in good hands. I know I joke around all the time but right now I’m one hundred per cent serious and completely focused. You will be just fine.”
Bucky simply nodded, remaining quiet as he focused on his breathing. Tony watched your eyes flicking to Bucky once more, giving the man a comforting smile and immediately the grip he had on the armrest with his right hand loosened a little. Tony watched you trying to comfort Bucky while still trying to stay out of the way for a few seconds more before he spoke up.
“If you want to sit down by his side, that’s fine. You won’t get in the way.”
You perked up at that and quickly thanked him, grabbing a nearby stool and pulling it to the right side of the chair. There you sat down and placed a hand over Bucky’s right one. He immediately turned it around to grab onto your hand, holding on tight and taking a deep breath. Concern painted your features as you leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to his bare right shoulder.
“I can talk you through everything Tony does.”
“Thank you.”
That was the first time Tony had heard Bucky speak since coming into the lab over two hours earlier for a first assessment of the arm’s malfunction. It was not a surprise to him that you were the one who helped him relax enough to speak, though. Tony knew that you were by far one of the biggest sources of comfort to Bucky and that a few soothing words from you or some gentle touches could always calm the man down. Still, it was fascinating to Tony how quickly your words had done the trick. That was until you spoke up again.
“I know you hate having medical or maintenance procedures performed on you and not knowing exactly what’s going on, so if you want me to talk you through every little detail, I totally will.”
Bucky thanked you again, the tension in his muscles leaving, as understanding dawned on Tony. It made sense that after decades of having procedures performed on him without knowing what would happen next, much less having anyone ask his consent, not being filled in on the details would make Bucky anxious. Tony cursed himself for not having realised this sooner and it amazed him how quickly you had figured out what was making Bucky so anxious without the man even having to say a word. He turned to you with an amused smile.
“You’re really a mind reader, knowing what’s wrong without him even having to say a word.”
“I’m not a mind reader. Bucky and I just know what the other needs.”
“And I’m really thankful for that, Doll.”
---
IV.
The mission had been nothing short of demanding, both physically and mentally, and everyone who had been on it was drained by the end of it. A mission involving a hostage situation was always hard on everyone. However, due to an impending storm, the director had decided that everyone would be booked into a hotel to await being able to head back home. And since the hotels were overbooked due to the storm it left you in a room with two beds for three people. It only made sense that you shared one of the beds with Bucky, leaving Wanda with the other one, so you all silently went to get ready to turn in for the night.
Wanda found the quiet strangely unnerving since you were usually a talkative person and she always enjoyed talking to you. But now you were quietly changing into comfortable clothes, having just gotten out of the shower, before sitting down on the foot of your bed. It worried her, to say the least, but it wasn’t surprising. You’d had a pretty rough run-in with one of the hostage takers, so it was understandable that you were this quiet.
It seemed that Bucky had also noticed because he sat down right next to you and took your hand off your lap to hold it in both of his. Wanda sat on her bed and watched his actions, observing how he leaned forward to examine your face to which you simply turned your head away.
“This mission has been hard for you, hasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“I know this sounds like empty words right now but you did all you could and you did well, Sweetheart.” Bucky said gently, making you turn back to look at him. “These people are still alive because of your help.”
“That man who attacked me, he came out of nowhere.”
“But you managed to fight him off because you’re strong and capable, Doll.”
“I was so scared.”
“How can I help you?” Bucky asked and Wanda watched you remain quiet, prompting him to lean closer again so he could press a gentle kiss to your temple. “Would you like to be my little spoon tonight? I can hold you all night long.”
“Please.”
With that, he began to gently move you and Wanda watched as he manoeuvred you into lying on your side, all soft touch and gentle guidance. When you were finally lying down, facing Wanda’s bed, Bucky lay down behind you and drew you into his arms, holding your hands with one of his and pressing a kiss to your cheek from behind. The two of you didn’t speak much after that, save for Bucky telling you how much he loved you when he realised you were about to drift off. When he was sure you were asleep he looked at Wanda who had lied down on her bed somewhere along the way as she’d been watching you two.
“Thank you, James.”
“For what?”
“Taking care of my friend. She means a lot to me but I wasn’t sure how to help. You immediately knew what she needed and how to take care of her.”
“I will always take care of her.”
---
V.
“This movie is kind of boring, I don’t understand why it made the list.”
Steve just shushed Sam’s complaint, eyes still glued to the screen. Resigning himself to the fate of having to sit through this movie Sam let his eyes wander across the living room and it became apparent to him that no one but Steve and perhaps Thor seemed really invested in the movie. Natasha was quietly talking to Clint next to her, Wanda had taken up doing her nails instead of watching the movie, Bruce was halfway to falling asleep, Tony was on his cellphone and you were reading a book with Bucky’s head on your chest, his eyes closed as you ran your fingers through his hair.
Sam couldn’t help smiling at the display because no matter how much he teased you or bickered with Bucky, he had always been genuinly happy for the two of you. Your fingers worked through Bucky’s hair, scratching his head as your free hand held the book you were currently reading. The only thing that clued Sam into the fact that Bucky was still awake was how he’d sometimes blink his eyes open to look at the television when there was a loud scene in the movie.
Then you took your hand out of Bucky’s hair to flip the page, making him look up at you with a deep frown on his features and Sam had to bite his lip to keep himself from chuckling at how grumpy his friend looked at this short lack of affection. You just gave Bucky an amused smile before going back to petting his hair, making him smile contently and close his eyes again.
This process repeated a few times until about the twelfth time you took your hand from his hair to flip the page which elicited what Sam could only describe as a whine from Bucky. Sam had to bring a hand in front of his mouth to stifle his laughter at the sound and he quickly decided to tease Bucky about this the next day.
But his quiet laughter turned into a smile when he watched your reaction. With an affectionate eye roll, you put your book down to wrap both your arms around Bucky. Your left hand took up running up and down his back while your right one resumed the previous task of petting Bucky’s hair, to which the man relaxed again, closing his eyes with a content smile on his face. And Sam couldn’t help thinking about how amazing it was that you always understood what Bucky needed or wanted, just from the looks he gave you or the sounds he made.
---
VI.
“We need a medic here! She was stabbed!”
Yelena watched as medics rushed over at your words, gathering around Natasha to help her. She gave you a thankful smile and you responded with a curt nod before turning to Bucky, asking him if he was alright. Yelena’s smile didn’t fade as she watched him press a lingering kiss to your lips before leaning his forehead against yours. From the moment she’d first seen you two she’d seen what a perfect match you two were.
“Thanks for having my back in there, Doll.”
“Always.”
“I mean it. That one guy surprised me and I’m glad you were there to take him down.” Bucky said with a soft smile before pulling back and giving you a once-over. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“I will be fine, don’t you worry, Love.”
While Yelena felt relief wash over her at your words Bucky stilled, frowning in concern as he looked you over more thoroughly. His hand came up to cup your left shoulder, intending to turn your body to get a look at your back to check it for injuries, and you winced ever so slightly. Had it not been for Bucky immediately pulling his hand away Yelena was sure she would have missed it.
“What was that?”
“Love, listen--”
“You winced when I touched your shoulder.” He stated matter of factly, eyes going wide in fear. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that.”
“Bucky, I will be fine.”
“There it is again.” Bucky shook his head and brought his hand up to once more reach for your arm, this time not touching you but hovering mere centimetres from your body. “You will be fine? That means you’re not fine now.”
“James, you don’t need to be so worried about me.”
But Bucky just shook his head and gently moved the strap of the harness that secured your weapon to your back, and his breath caught in his throat as he saw blood soaking your suit underneath. Before you could even say anything else, he was calling out to the paramedics who had taken care of Natasha, looking over his shoulder at them.
“We need help over here!”
Then he turned back to you and shook his head, bringing up both of his hands and interlacing his fingers before pressing the heel of his right one down on the wound to stop the bleeding, using the other one to apply pressure. You hissed in pain and Yelena was about to come over to ask if she could help when Bucky spoke up again. He sounded almost mad at you but Yelena could hear the obvious concern seeping into his voice.
“Why would you not tell me you were injured? What happened?”
“The guy who attacked you, he-- he stabbed me in the chest just below the shoulder. But-- But the strap of my holster kept the bleeding at bay and Natasha was worse off than me, so-- so I wanted them to look at her first.”
“We have dozens of paramedics on sight. One of them could have helped you.” Bucky chastised you as he kept up the pressure on your wound, making you groan in pain. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I need to stop the bleeding.”
Yelena watched as you opened your mouth to speak but you were interrupted when paramedics rushed over, med kits in hand, taking over for Bucky and treating your injury. She came over, seeing how worried Bucky looked, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“She’s lucky she has you. I wouldn’t have been able to tell that she was injured.”
“I knew something was wrong the second we came out of the building.”
“Then she is really lucky you know her so well.”
---
VII.
When Steve returned with your drinks he found the table empty and when he looked around the cafe you three had stopped at after a day out, neither you nor Bucky were anywhere in sight. At first, he was confused but when he found Bucky’s phone still on the table and your jacket still hanging over the back of the chair his confusion was replaced with worry because you two had clearly left in a hurry.
Quickly, he put the beverages down and went for the door to go find you two but that was easier than he would have thought because he only had to take a few steps until he spotted you in the alleyway next to the cafe. At first, this only added to his confusion but when he got close enough to get a good look at you two, at Bucky standing hunched over with his hands clasping his bent knees and your fingers stroking his flesh shoulder while you talked to him in a hushed voice, everything became clear.
Bucky was having a panic attack.
Wanting nothing more than to help his friend Steve hurried over but the second he came into earshot he saw that you had already managed to calm Bucky down, to help him back to the present and control his breathing. He heard your whispered instructions to focus on five things he could hear, four things he could see, three things he could feel, two things he could smell and one thing he could taste. He watched as Bucky took shuddering breath after shuddering breath, as you rubbed his back soothingly and as his friend slowly straightened up again.
“Bucky, are you alright?”
Both you and Bucky turned to look at Steve, the latter giving his friend a shaky nod while your hand tightened on his shoulder. Steve watched as you leaned forward to get a good look at Bucky’s face, gently reaching out to stroke his cheek.
“It’s alright if you’re not.”
“No, I’m alright now.” Bucky said, swallowing thickly and taking another deep breath as his eyes flickered to your face. “Thank you, Sweetheart.”
“Don’t thank me, Love. I’m just glad that I could help you.”
“What happened, Buck?”
Bucky turned back to Steve, shaking his head dismissively but quickly stopping when his friend gave him a stern look, making him sigh in defeat. “This song came on and it-- it just triggered a memory from-- from this mission back in the eighties and it made me panic, made me think of how I made a mistake on that mission, how I was punished, how I hurt that man.”
Steve felt his heart ache at those words and he quickly moved closer to place a comforting hand on his friend’s back, strong and steady. “Bucky, are you sure you’re alright now?”
“Yes, I’m good.” He whispered out and nodded his head toward you. “She helped me calm down and did some grounding exercises with me. I just feel so ridiculous for getting triggered by a fucking song playing in a cafe.”
“Don’t say that, James.”
Steve knew that you only called Bucky by his first name when the situation was serious or when you needed to give him a stern talk and he watched as understanding dawned on his friend’s face that he would now get a lecture from you.
“Remember what your therapist said? Remember how she said that triggers can be anything and that is why you needed grounding exercises to bring you back to the moment, because anything can be triggering?” You said sternly though your thumb kept gently stroking over Bucky’s cheekbone. “This is not ridiculous, James.”
“I still ruined the day.”
“Steve, is your day ruined?”
“Nope, how about yours?”
“Mine, neither.” You said, raising an eyebrow at Bucky. “See? No one’s day is ruined. But the most important thing now is that you feel better. Do you really feel better or are you just trying to calm us down?”
Bucky sighed softly and nodded. “I do feel better, thanks to you. I’m so glad you caught onto the fact that I was going to a bad mental place and got me out of there. Thank you.”
“I know you, Bucky. The moment I saw your fingers clench around your phone, your pupils dilating and your breathing quicken I knew something was up.”
Steve looked back at you in surprise. He knew you and Bucky were very in tune with each other, that you two knew the other in and out, but it still surprised him how you could even recognise the smallest change in body language. And he decided to tell you as much.
“I’m really glad Bucky has a partner like you, that knows him so well. I feel terrible that I wasn’t there to help but I’m glad that you were with him.”
“Don’t martyr yourself now. You can’t be around all the time.” Bucky said before giving you and Steve a small smile. “Should we head back inside? We left all our stuff at the table.”
Steve nodded quickly, taking in how soaked you’d gotten from the rain. But before he could even comment on it or make a joke about how you’d left your jacket at the table Bucky was already shrugging his leather jacket off to drape it over your shoulder, making you smile back at him.
“Thanks, Love. You always know what I need.”
“Right back at you, Sweetheart.”
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