#she said it was gifted to her by a vendor

[wittyworm]

taino teachings are realigning my entire mindset. everything is. making more and more sense the more i read. Yoka hu (the father) and Ata Bey ( the mother) are both inside me . spiritually and physically. i have always said, for many years that i did not understand the concept of gender how this society is teaching it, because i am both my father and mother in body and spirit, but also wholly myself, and i need to respect myself, and how i've been feeling for so so long. it's all making so much sense.

[misswynters]

Lil Daredevils with big hearts

featuring. ekko x wife!reader

note. i need more aunt! jinx (this is horrible i don’t like it but i’ve spent way too much time on this)

requested. by anon

Your birthday had been a quiet affair so far, just you, Ekko, and the twins at the Firelight hideout. You hadn’t expected much; after all, it was difficult to celebrate properly in a city like this. But your daughters, ever the spirited pair, had whispered and giggled all morning, plotting something secret. You knew they wanted to surprise you, but you couldn’t have guessed how far they’d go.

The more mischievous of the two, had decided that a proper birthday gift was non-negotiable. Her twin, more cautious but equally devoted, followed her lead. Together, they hatched a plan: She would swipe something special from a merchant in the Piltover market while her sister kept watch. It was innocent enough in their young minds, a way to show how much they loved their mama. But even at five years old, the twins underestimated the risk.

The plan unraveled quickly. The more excited twin had barely snatched a sparkling trinket from a vendor’s table when the merchant shouted, drawing the attention of none other than Caitlyn Kiramman. The Enforcer’s sharp eyes caught sight of the tiny thief darting between stalls, her twin calmer sister trailing behind, trying to call her back. Caitlyn’s voice rang out, calm yet commanding. “Stop right there!”

But the twins didn’t stop. Fear propelled them forward, their small feet pattering against the cobblestones. Caitlyn sighed, reaching for her rifle, intending only to fire a warning shot to make them halt. The sight of the weapon, however, filled you with cold dread as you turned the corner and saw the scene unfolding. Your maternal instincts overrode all reason, and without hesitation, you threw yourself between Caitlyn and the girls just as her finger accidentally squeezed the trigger.

The shot echoed through the narrow street, sharp and unforgiving. Pain exploded in your side as the bullet tore through flesh, and you stumbled, clutching the wound as blood seeped between your fingers. The twins froze in horror, their eyes wide and filled with tears. Caitlyn lowered her rifle instantly, her face stricken with regret. “Oh my gods… I didn’t mean—”

The chaos only deepened as Ekko and Vi arrived, drawn by the sound of gunfire. Ekko’s eyes went wide as he took in the sight of you on the ground, bleeding, with Caitlyn standing nearby, rifle still in hand. Rage replaced the shock in an instant. “What the hell did you do?” he snarled, rushing to your side.

Vi, confused and alarmed, held up her hands. “Cait, what’s going on? Who are they?”

Caitlyn stammered, clearly shaken. “I didn’t know they were children—she just—she jumped in the way!”

Before Ekko could unleash the full force of his anger, a familiar chaotic energy entered the scene. Jinx appeared out of nowhere, her wild grin softening when she saw the twins huddled together, crying. “Hey, hey, what’s all this fuss about?” she said, kneeling to their level. “Don’t worry, Auntie Jinx is here.”

You managed a weak smile through the pain. “Jinx… take them. Please.”

Ekko didn’t even need to look to know you trusted her implicitly. Jinx gently scooped up the twins, her tone uncharacteristically soothing. “Come on, munchkins. Let’s go somewhere fun, yeah? Don’t worry about your mama. She’s tougher than she looks.”

The twins clung to her, still sniffling, but they didn’t protest. With one last glance at you, Jinx disappeared as swiftly as she had arrived, the twins safe in her care.

Ekko turned his attention back to Caitlyn and Vi, his protective instincts blazing. “You pointed a gun at my daughters?” he hissed, his voice dangerously low.

Caitlyn stepped forward, guilt etched into every line of her face. “I didn’t know they were yours, Ekko. They were running, and I—”

“That’s no excuse,” Ekko snapped, cutting her off. “They’re kids. My kids. You don’t aim a gun at children, ever.”

Vi, still piecing everything together, held up her hands. “Wait, wait. You’re married? And you have kids?”

“Uh. Yeah, Vi,” Ekko shot back, his tone sharp. “Surprise. Maybe if you and your Enforcer girlfriend weren’t so trigger-happy, you’d probably know that by now.”

“Ekko,” you murmured weakly, placing a hand on his arm. “It was an accident. Please let it go.”

He knelt beside you, his anger softening as he saw the pain in your eyes. “Let it go? She shot you.”

“It was my choice,” you said, your voice firm despite the pain. “I saw the gun, and I jumped. She didn’t mean to.”

Caitlyn crouched down, meeting your gaze with a sincerity that was hard to ignore. “I swear to you, I would never intentionally harm anyone, especially not a child. I’m so sorry.”

Ekko didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tight as he tried to rein in his emotions. Vi stepped closer, her expression more serious now. “Look, I get why you’re pissed. If someone hurt my family, I’d lose it too. But Caitlyn made a mistake. Let us help. We’ll get her patched up.”

You reached for Ekko’s hand, squeezing it gently. “Please, my love.”

He let out a long breath, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Fine. But we’re not done talking about this.”

Vi nodded, offering her hand to help you up. “Fair enough. Let’s get you somewhere safe first.”

Later, back at the Firelight hideout, Ekko hovered over you as you rested on your shared bed, the wound bandaged but still tender. The twins were with Jinx in another part of the hideout, their giggles faintly audible through the walls.

Vi and Caitlyn stood nearby, both uncharacteristically quiet. Ekko finally broke the silence, his voice low but firm. “You’re lucky she’s okay. If she wasn’t…”

“I know,” Caitlyn said softly, her usual confidence replaced by remorse. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

Vi crossed her arms, glancing at you. “For what it’s worth, you’ve got guts. Jumping in like that? Not many people would do that.”

You managed a small smile. “Not many people have kids like mine.”

Ekko sat beside you, his hand resting over yours. “They’re lucky to have you as their mom.”

Despite the lingering tension, the room felt a little lighter. Jinx’s voice suddenly called out from the other room. “Hey! The mischievous one is trying to climb the wall again! Who taught these kids to be such little daredevils?”

Ekko sighed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I wonder where they get it from.”

You laughed softly, wincing as the movement tugged at your side. “Maybe their dad?”

taglist. @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @annybah @niredsw @stqrlxght @kriss-w @marilovz @blkmystery @multiverse-fandoms-2001 @turquoizxe @mishellii @kor-0suu @feelya @theamazingmilli @multim00n @m00nd0v3 @sodavrr @maialublmere @radtragedyarcade @spiderhook @night-fall-moon @ekkosh @hoonobono @bandletale @thesecondhandwoman @alientee @duchessmoooon @lilbunny1sworld @lil-kpopstan @mbekgsv @lulumallow @ametheslime @sunshiines-stuff @lolana101 @jadeash434 @hobieeeloverrr @misonesaturou @serene6728 @hellokittyfeenie

banner. @anitalenia art. not mine

[miserycanary]

MY HELL FOR YOUR LOVE ᡣ𐭩

♡⃛ ‘A Fixed Heart in Your Hand' alternative ending

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: alternative ending because I feel bad for hurting y'all

tags: hurt/COMFORT, fluff

"Sir? Sir!”

Ghost flinches as he realizes he’s been spacing out, the florist now looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Are you going to buy something or not?” she snaps, motioning at the display of bouquets. “Uh, yeah. Give me something with hyacinth and baby breaths,” he mutters, handing her a 100 bill. “Hyacinth? Never thought I’d see a day where a man knows a different flower aside from roses, tulips, and sunflowers,” the vendor chuckles, arranging the flowers neatly and covering them with a brown printed paper tied with a twine. “Ah,… if I know something, it’s about her.” The florist smiles, handing Ghost the bouquet and his change while saying, “Well, I can see that you love her dearly.” With a soft smirk, he replies, “That I do.”

You’ve always had a love for flowers. Going as far as to even beg him to make you a flower bed. Ghost didn’t like doing physical labor with him already getting beat from training at the base, yet when you flashed him that smile (and gave a toe-curling blowjob), how could he refuse? Since then, flowers as gifts have been rare between you two. Instances where he’d give you one are when you’re on a terrible period day or during milestones (the flowers coming from the patch he secretly planted months before).

It’s been two days since you’ve left the apartment, staying at your friend’s house, but Ghost insists on having you keep some of your stuff in the unit because, “well, you technically have ownership of the place since we shared the payment for this month.” It was a poor excuse, really, but it worked. Ghost knows you well enough to know that you haven’t broken up with him despite what you said. Leaving and staying somewhere else is something you do when you’re hurt and need space, and he knows that deep inside, you’re waiting for him. 

Don’t get him wrong. He doesn’t think you’re “easy to get” and he did really regret everything. The last 2 nights without you knocked some sense into him. The night felt colder, somber, and… lonely. Something he thought he would never complain about. I mean, this man has been through worse situations and he prefers solitude, but not if it’s solitude without you. You’re the one thing he can’t live without.

He has sent you multiple voicemails, messages, and even money as an apology. He’d always drop off by your friend’s place with some poorly attempted home-cooked meal of your favorite dishes. Sometimes he’d be able to steal a glance at you when he saw you coming up to the unit right before he arrived, sending flutters to his heart and butterflies in his stomach like a high school boy with a crush.

Now he stands by the door, hoping he’d leave the place with you in his arms, and him in your heart again. Three knocks (you always say less or more than that are for psychopaths) and a call of your name. Simon couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard your familiar cry, probably from rushing and stumbling. The wooden door cracked open, and the adrenaline that rushed through his nerves just from seeing you again could knock the man dead. He couldn’t even say anything except literally melt and give you the warmest smile. “Hi,” he softly greets, pulling the bouquet out of the paperbag and handing it to you with another gift. It was a charm... a tree bark with your initials engraved. You chuckle, pulling out the letter sticking out. 

One thing you learned about your Simon was that he’s not entirely good at conveying his feelings. I mean, that’s literally the reason for this fight. Yet he got out of his comfort zone, wrote you a fucking letter.

You look at him, tears in your eyes before jumping into his arms.

“I fucking missed you, pretty girl,” he mutters, holding you up by your ass and pressing a deep kiss on your lips. God, you taste like heaven; you taste like salvation. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pushes you closer, afraid you’ll slip from his fingers again. 

From that day on, Simon learned one thing. That he would rather go through the depths of hell (talk about his feelings) than go through a day without your love. 

| The letter: 

‘To my darling flower, I’m sorry for even hurting you. I’m sorry I was a shit-ass about how I processed my emotions and got you involved. You’ve always told me that you’re there for me but I didn’t want to burden you. I always want you to be happy but my actions just did the opposite. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything that day. That I didn’t even ask you to stay. I’m sorry for being a coward. I’m sorry that I let you go. 

With this letter, I ask for your forgiveness and for you to have me back. I will be better because I cannot afford to lose you for you have my heart and soul. You are my whole life. You are the thing that makes surviving each day worth it.’

꒰ა ☆ ໒: Now you guys know why Ghost calls Y/N ‘flower’. This the comfort alternative ending because it was also requested. 📩

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist: @softestqueeen

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[fr0stf4ll]

A court of Shadows and Moonlight - Part 4

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the wake of looming war and changing traditions, a gifted healer returns to the Night Court after centuries of wandering the continents. Tasked with stepping into Madja’s legendary role, she must guide reluctant healers, soothe wounded warriors, and face the entrenched prejudice of Illyrian leaders. But as she mends torn wings and broken spirits, an unexpected bond awakens between her and the Night Court’s enigmatic Spymaster. With rivalries simmering and a dangerous threat looming on the horizon, she must reconcile duty and desire, learning that true healing can extend beyond flesh and bone—if she dares to embrace the light hidden among the shadows.

word count ; 4k

Trigger warning; Blood, pain, injuries.

notes; Hello everyone! I'm super exited on how this story is going to turn (and let me be honest it's probably going to be long, at least longer than the Forger of starlight for those who read it). Still I hope that you are going to enjoy this chapter ! Don't hesitate to comment <3 See you soon !

Link; Part 3

---

The next morning’s light cast a pale glow through the clinic’s windows, the faint scent of antiseptics and dried herbs greeting you as you unlatched the doors. You tried to steady your breathing, tried to keep your mind on the tasks at hand rather than on the unsettling knowledge lodged behind your ribs. A mate—Azriel was your mate. Even thinking the word sent your pulse skittering.

One of the healers—a younger fae named Elira, with cropped auburn hair and warm brown eyes—stepped inside just as you finished propping the doors open. She paused, studying your face with a hint of concern. “Morning, Y/N. Are you all right? You look… tired,” she said gently, pulling her shawl tighter over her shoulders. The morning still carried a chill, and you realized you’d barely felt it through the fog in your head.

You mustered a weary smile. “I’m fine,” you lied, voice quiet. The words felt brittle, and you suspected Elira might sense the untruth. But you couldn’t burden her with the chaos pounding in your skull. “It was a long night. Emergencies.”

Elira nodded, sympathy softening her expression. “Did something serious happen?”

“Serious enough,” you answered vaguely. “I managed it, but… I’m still recovering.” You forced your shoulders to square, as though you could physically straighten your resolve. “Do we have the morning’s patient lists ready?”

Elira didn’t press further—perhaps sensing you weren’t ready to talk. She offered a tentative smile and said, “I’ll sort the files. You should rest, even if just for a few minutes.” There was kindness in her voice, a gentle understanding that you were carrying more than you cared to say.

Rest. The suggestion sounded laughable. There was no rest in sight, not with the secret you held, not with Azriel’s bandages and salves waiting for you at the House of Wind. But you nodded anyway, grateful for Elira’s compassion. “Thank you, but I need to tend to something first,” you managed, grateful that she didn’t look offended. Instead, she nodded and moved toward the record room, leaving you to your own thoughts.

For a moment, you lingered by the door, one hand still on the frame. The clinic hummed softly as healers arrived, exchanging greetings, setting up their stations. Usually, this hum would soothe you, give you purpose. Today, it only reminded you that you were somewhere you once felt safe—somewhere you now felt oddly displaced.

You inhaled, drawing in the scent of herbs and polished wood. It was time to go back. Time to face Azriel again, to apply the ointment and ensure his recovery progressed smoothly. Your heart fluttered with a mixture of dread and longing. How would you act in his presence now? Would he sense the shift in your energy, even unconscious as he was?

Stepping out into the crisp morning, you let the door close gently behind you. The sound of the city waking up drifted through the streets—vendors setting out their wares, the faint laughter of children, distant footfalls of those heading to their day’s work. You pulled your cloak tighter, the weight of your responsibilities and secrets pressing against your shoulders.

With determined strides, you set off toward the House of Wind, each step both too quick and not quick enough. You wanted to get this over with, to fulfill your duties, to reassure yourself that he was alive and healing—and yet every pace brought you closer to him, and to the golden bond you didn’t know how to handle.

In the rising daylight, Velaris shimmered with quiet beauty. Its peace mocked your turmoil, but you kept walking, forging ahead, praying the trembling in your chest would ease before you reached the High Lord’s halls and the wounded spymaster waiting within.

With quiet steps, you entered Azriel’s room at the House of Wind. The morning light streamed through the tall windows, illuminating the space in pale gold. You had your supplies in hand—a jar of ointment and fresh bandages, carefully prepared in the clinic’s familiar hush. Your heart gave a nervous flutter at the thought of approaching him again, but duty called, and you pushed forward, easing the door open with a soft creak.

At first, you saw only Azriel’s still form, cocooned in blankets, his wings carefully arranged to avoid pressure on his healing injuries. His dark hair fell over his forehead, his lashes resting against his cheeks. He looked peaceful, his pain soothed by rest and the remedies you’d applied before dawn.

But then your gaze caught movement. Someone else was here—a young woman seated by his bedside, her head bowed slightly as if in prayer or silent plea. She had delicate features, long brown hair cascading around her shoulders. A gentle profile that, when she turned, revealed a face not unlike Feyre’s—similar bone structure, the same warm eyes, though softer in hue.

Your footsteps faltered. Your mind flashed with questions: Who was she? Why was she here? Azriel was asleep, unaware of your arrival. You swallowed hard, feeling the tension coil in your stomach. The golden thread of the bond still lingered in your mind, making the sight of this unknown woman’s hand resting lightly on Azriel’s arm feel like a knife twisting in your chest.

As you approached, the woman looked up, startled yet hopeful. You noticed the worry etched on her face, a sorrow and concern that spoke of care and affection. Without hesitation, she stood, moving gracefully toward you.

She offered a trembling smile, eyes bright with tears unshed. “You must be the healer,” she said, voice quiet and earnest. “I’m Elain. Elain Archeron.” Her gaze flickered to Azriel’s sleeping form, then back to you. “Feyre’s sister,” she added gently, as though knowing her connection might reassure you.

Elain reached for your arms in a gesture of gratitude and relief. Her touch was soft, tentative, but sincere. “Thank you,” she said, and her voice caught. “Thank you for saving him. I-I’ve only just heard what happened. If not for you, he might have…” She trailed off, unable or unwilling to complete the grim thought.

Your heart twisted at her obvious worry, and despite the turmoil inside you, you forced yourself to remain composed. She was worried for Azriel, nothing more. Any sting of jealousy or fear you felt was misplaced, you told yourself. You were here to help, to heal. That was all.

“I’m glad I could be there,” you managed, voice quiet. Your eyes drifted to Azriel’s face, the rise and fall of his chest steady and sure. “He’s stable now, and with proper care, he’ll recover.”

Elain’s grip tightened slightly on your arms, as if finding comfort in your words. “He means so much to all of us,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “We were afraid—” Another half-spoken fear cut short. She swallowed, releasing your arms and folding her hands together. “I won’t keep you from your work.”

You nodded, steeling yourself, and moved closer to the bedside. The world narrowed down to the tasks at hand: checking Azriel’s bandages, applying ointment, ensuring his wounds were clean and healing as intended. Behind you, Elain hovered, her presence a soft reminder that you were not the only one who cared about this man’s survival.

The ache in your chest remained, but you channeled it into precise, gentle care, grateful that Azriel slept on, oblivious for now to all the unspoken emotions filling the room.

As you carefully lifted Azriel’s wing to apply fresh ointment along the fragile membranes, the door opened. Looking up, you expected perhaps Feyre or Cassian, but it was Rhysand who stepped quietly inside. He halted at the sight of Elain, surprise flickering across his features. She stiffened, then dropped her gaze and slipped past him without a word, leaving the room as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Her sudden departure hung in the silence, unanswered questions lingering in the space she vacated.

You remained focused on your work, smoothing the ointment gently and checking for any sign of infection. When you were done, you lowered Azriel’s wing back onto the soft padding you’d arranged. He stirred slightly, but remained in a healing sleep. The faint hiss of his steady breathing was the only sound until Rhysand approached, stopping a respectful distance away.

“How is he?” the High Lord asked, voice low. His violet eyes held concern and relief in equal measure—he clearly trusted you, but he needed reassurance. You wondered if it was strange for him to stand here, watching you care for one of his closest friends, after seeing how you worked miracles with moonlight just hours before.

You inclined your head, wiping your hands on a clean cloth. “His vitals are stable. The bleeding has ceased, the stitches and salves are holding up. He will heal, but it’s going to take time.” You glanced at the bandages, ensuring everything was in order. “For the next two or three weeks, he should be extremely careful. Any strain could reopen those wounds, especially where the wings are concerned. If he follows instructions, he should make a full recovery.”

Rhysand exhaled quietly, tension easing from his posture. “Thank you,” he said simply, yet the depth of gratitude in that single phrase was undeniable. He stepped closer, examining Azriel’s peaceful face, the neat wrappings. “I know you’ve done more than what could be expected.”

You offered a faint, professional smile. “He responded well to the treatments. I’ll check on him regularly. With proper rest and caution, he’ll be back on his feet soon.” You paused, hesitant, then added, “He might chafe at the restrictions. I trust you and the others can help ensure he doesn’t push himself too hard.”

A hint of wry amusement touched Rhysand’s lips. “Oh, that will be a battle,” he said, a spark of humor in his tone. “Azriel’s not exactly fond of lying in bed. But we’ll manage.”

As you turned away to rinse the cloth and reorganize your supplies, the High Lord lingered, watching over his friend. The hush in the room was gentler now, as if the worst of the night’s nightmares had passed. In the corridor outside, you heard distant murmurs—life carrying on in the House of Wind, even as Azriel slept through his healing pains.

In a few hours, you’d return with more salves, check the stitching again, monitor his temperature. The routine would help ground you, a steady path forward as you navigated your new role and the unsettling bond you’d discovered the night before. For now, Azriel’s safe and stable state was a small victory, one you both needed.

After you finished tending to Azriel and making certain he was resting comfortably, Rhysand gently guided you from the room. In silence, you followed him through the House of Wind, eventually arriving at his office. It was a spacious chamber lined with shelves full of books and maps, and a large window offered a breathtaking view of Velaris and the mountains beyond.

He gestured for you to sit in a chair opposite his desk and took his own seat with a measured elegance. You settled into the soft cushions, mind still churning with the events of the night before and the morning that followed. Rhysand allowed a brief moment of silence, his violet eyes studying you with calm interest. You appreciated the courtesy he afforded you—allowing you to compose yourself, if only for a breath.

“There is some business we need to discuss,” he began quietly, resting his forearms on the desk’s smooth surface. “Specifically, Illyria.”

Your heart sank a fraction, remembering the plight of the Illyrian females. The clipping of their wings, a barbaric tradition meant to keep them grounded, powerless, had long stained the culture of the mountain camps. Anyone who’d lived in the Night Court knew about it—knew the cruelty it entailed. It made your stomach knot, the injustice of it all. But Rhysand’s gaze was steady, his tone matter-of-fact. He didn’t need to explain the tradition or its brutality to you. You already knew.

He continued, “We’ve made strides in changing policies and punishing those who practice clipping, but traditions die hard. There’s a deep-seated reluctance in some of the camps to embrace new methods, to trust outside help. And while we can enforce laws, people need more than punishment—they need healing. Not just in body, but in mind and culture.”

You nodded slowly, understanding the layers to his request. Illyria was a complex knot of pride, pain, and ingrained habits. Simply banning clipping hadn’t eradicated it overnight. Change would require education, trust, and time. As a healer, you might wield some influence. Heal their wounds, show them better ways, and perhaps, over time, their hearts could soften.

“You’re aware of the situation,” Rhysand acknowledged, reading your thoughtful silence. “I know you’ve only recently returned and you have your hands full with Azriel’s recovery and the transition of your role. Still, I must ask: would you be willing, sometime in the coming week, to travel to Winghaven? Begin there. Examine their current medical facilities—or lack thereof—and train some of their healers. Introduce new methods. Show them what can be done, especially for those who’ve suffered under these old customs.”

You caught his eyes, the sincerity and gravity in them. This wasn’t a small favor. It was a step in a long journey of reform. “I know Winghaven,” you said quietly. “They have rudimentary healers, but nothing on par with Velaris. The conditions are… difficult.”

Rhysand inclined his head. “Indeed. Start there, build rapport, and then move on to the other camps in the following weeks. A thorough evaluation, some training sessions, maybe even demonstrations of advanced healing techniques. Whatever you think might help them trust and adopt new methods.”

Your pulse fluttered, considering what this meant. You’d travel again, but within the Night Court’s borders this time, extending the reach of your healing and knowledge to places that desperately needed it. It was daunting, but also a chance to enact real change. Madja had chosen you not just to heal wounds, but to heal a culture’s mindset if possible. This could be the first step in doing just that.

“I can do it,” you answered softly, your voice firming as you spoke. “I’ll need a day or two to prepare. I should bring some portable tools, samples of herbs, and notes to leave behind. And I’ll finish stabilizing Azriel’s condition, make sure everything here is organized before I leave.”

A hint of relief, and perhaps admiration, touched Rhysand’s features. “Thank you,” he said. “I won’t pretend this will be easy. You may face skepticism, even hostility. But we’ve set certain laws in place—call on them if you must. Cassian, in particular, is familiar with Winghaven and can advise you on how to approach certain leaders.”

At the mention of Cassian, you nodded again, making a mental note to consult him. His insight could help navigate the subtle power dynamics and stubborn pride of Illyrian warriors.

You exhaled slowly, embracing the weight of your new mission. Healing was never just about wounds. It was about hearts, minds, and cultures. It was about offering better ways to live, even to those who resisted. You’d do what you could, and hopefully, over time, your efforts would take root.

“I’ll do everything in my power to make a difference,” you promised, voice steady despite the uncertainty that loomed ahead.

Rhysand’s smile was small but genuine, a touch of warmth breaking through the High Lord’s composed demeanor. “That’s all anyone can ask.”

The hush of the office fractured abruptly by muffled commotion from down the hall. Your conversation with Rhysand froze mid-sentence, both of you snapping your heads toward the door. There was a look in his violet eyes—concern and a steeled readiness—that mirrored your own. In a heartbeat, you rose from your chair, following him at a brisk pace down the corridor.

The sounds led you back to Azriel’s room. The door stood ajar, and you entered to find Elain near the bed, wringing her hands, her face stricken with alarm. Azriel lay on the mattress, his breathing ragged, his skin flushing and mottled as if reacting violently to something.

Elain’s voice quavered, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she pleaded, voice trembling. “He seemed uncomfortable, in pain, and I just thought—my salve… I didn’t know—”

Your heart pounded with a hot surge of anger. This was exactly why you insisted on careful protocols and avoiding any unapproved treatments. “What were you thinking?” you snapped, too concerned to temper your tone. “Applying something else without knowing its properties? Mixing plants can cause severe reactions!” Your voice cracked through the tension in the room, startling her.

Elain’s lower lip trembled as she retreated a step. She looked horrified and remorseful, but you had no time for comforting her now. Azriel jerked under the covers, his wings twitching fitfully. You needed to move fast.

“Get out,” you ordered, pointing to the door. Your command was clipped, professional, but unyielding. Elain let out a small sob and stumbled back, leaving the room in a blur of skirts and regret.

Azriel’s breath came in short, pained pants, his eyes half-lidded. You tossed your head toward Rhysand. “I need you to hold him down,” you said urgently, dropping to your knees beside the bed and flinging open your medical kit. “If he thrashes, he’ll make it worse. I must flush this foreign salve from his system.”

Rhysand stepped forward without hesitation. His presence, calm and contained, would help keep Azriel still. With a nod, he took position near Azriel’s shoulders, pressing down firmly but gently, careful not to aggravate existing wounds. Az let out a ragged moan, wings scraping restlessly against the blankets.

Your hands moved quickly, selecting herbs and tools you’d never intended to use twice in one day. You measured doses with exacting care, mentally reviewing which compounds countered which toxins, which would draw out the harmful concoction Elain had unwittingly introduced. The scent of your preparations soon filled the air—bitter, pungent, but necessary.

Biting your lip, you applied a cleansing solution around the affected areas, your fingertips deft and gentle despite your racing pulse. Rhysand’s voice was quiet, murmuring something soothing to Azriel, trying to keep him calm. Your own heart ached to see him like this, so vulnerable and in pain, especially after what he had already endured. But you banished the ache and focused on your role as healer.

The minutes stretched thin. You worked methodically, using a special wash to neutralize the reaction, applying cool compresses to reduce inflammation. Outside the room, you could still sense Elain’s presence in the hall, her quiet weeping. You pushed that distraction aside, refusing to look anywhere but Azriel’s face and the wounds you tended.

“Stay with me, Azriel,” you whispered as you worked, your tone softer now, though he might not be lucid enough to understand. “I’ve got you.”

Behind you, Rhysand’s gaze bore into your back, silent trust and support emanating from him. He kept his hold steady, ensuring Azriel didn’t thrash off the mattress and disrupt the delicate mending you were attempting.

Slowly, the color in Azriel’s cheeks began to normalize, the flush fading as the compounds took hold. His breathing, labored and strained, began to even out, shallow gasps replaced by steadier inhalations. It would take time, more careful applications, but you could see the signs of the countermeasures working.

It wasn’t over yet, but you’d gained precious ground. You adjusted your grip on another vial, heart pounding with renewed determination. You wouldn’t let him slip away, not now, not after everything.

“Hold him just a moment longer,” you said to Rhysand, voice steady once more. “I’m almost done.”

Once you were certain Azriel’s condition had stabilized, you stepped out of the room, still breathing heavily from the tension of your work. You found Elain in the corridor, lingering where you’d left her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, tear tracks staining her cheeks, her posture slumped with remorse. But right now, you were too furious, too rattled by the near catastrophe, to offer comfort.

You closed the distance between you and her in quick strides, the echo of your footsteps making her flinch. “What were you thinking?” you demanded, voice low and tight. “You are no healer, Elain. You had no right—no right—to apply anything without my approval.”

“I-I was just trying to help,” Elain stammered, voice quavering. Her hands twisted in her skirts, knuckles turning white. “He looked like he was in pain, and I had this salve that’s helped me before—”

“Stop,” you cut in sharply, and she recoiled as if struck. “This isn’t about your intentions. It’s about what could have happened. I’ve seen lives lost because someone thought they knew better than the professionals. A bad mix of herbs, a plant reacting poorly with other treatments—and a patient dies. You could have killed him.”

Tears welled again in her eyes, her breath coming in shaky gasps. “I… I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice barely audible.

You tightened your jaw, fighting to keep your emotions from spilling over into cruelty. “I don’t care who you are to him, or what you think you can do. Right now, Azriel is my patient. My priority is saving his life, not sparing your feelings. And if you ever pull a stunt like that again…” Your voice trailed off ominously, anger vibrating in your throat.

“Elain,” came a quiet voice from behind you. Rhysand’s hand settled gently on your shoulder, the subtle pressure a reminder that you’d made your point. You breathed in slowly through your nose, attempting to calm the fire in your blood.

Elain looked at Rhysand as if searching for reprieve, but found little. His face was composed, yet stern. “It’s best you return to the townhouse,” he said calmly. “We cannot afford any more risks to Azriel’s recovery. Until he’s better—fully better—I’m afraid you’re not allowed in the House of Wind.”

She opened her mouth to protest, then closed it, shoulders slumping further. With a trembling nod, Elain turned away, tears still glistening on her cheeks. She moved off down the corridor, footsteps fading into silence.

You let out a shaky breath, shoulders still tight with residual fury and fear. Rhysand’s hand remained on your shoulder a moment longer, a silent token of understanding. When he removed it, you stood there, heart pounding, your mind already shifting back to Azriel’s condition. He was stable for now, but you would have to keep a closer eye on him than ever.

No more unnecessary risks. No more interference. Not while his life hung in the balance and your responsibility, as his healer, demanded unwavering vigilance.

———

Back at the clinic, the familiar hum of voices and quiet steps on wooden floors welcomed you like a gentle embrace. You’d returned not long ago, having decided you wouldn’t check on Azriel again until the next day. He was stable, and after the emotional whirlwind of the morning, you needed to focus on your other duties, regain your footing in the place that felt most under your control.

The other healers had noticed your tension, though none had dared comment openly. But as dusk settled, while sorting through jars of herbs in the storage room, you found yourself beside Elira—the same young healer who had noticed your fatigue earlier. She had a careful way about her, kind but never intrusive, and you appreciated her steady presence.

She glanced at you from the corner of her eye, tightening the string around a bundle of dried leaves. “Everything all right?” she asked softly, as if testing the waters. “You seem… troubled.”

You exhaled slowly, considering how much to share. “There was an incident,” you admitted, voice low. “I had to step in this morning to save someone who was already on the mend.” You paused, picking through lavender stems. “Let’s just say someone interfered with the treatment, and it nearly cost him dearly.”

Elira’s eyebrows rose. “That sounds serious. Did they mean harm?”

You shook your head, remembering Elain’s tearful face. “No, I think she meant well. But intentions aren’t enough. She mixed treatments without understanding the consequences.” The words tasted bitter, like you were defending your anger yet again. You looked at Elira more directly. “I might have been harsh, but… there was a real risk.”

Elira nodded slowly, a knowing sympathy in her gaze. “It’s never easy when outsiders meddle. Most don’t realize how delicate the balance is, or how small a mistake can undo hours of careful work.”

You busied yourself with organizing a stack of bandages. “What’s harder is… I’m curious about who she was to him. The patient, I mean.” The admission made you feel exposed, but you pressed on. “I know she’s related to the High Lady—her sister, Elain. But what about her relationship to him?” You pursed your lips, scanning Elira’s face for any sign of judgment. “I can’t help it,” you added softly, as if apologizing for your curiosity. “I saw the way she looked at him, how worried she was. It… made me wonder.”

Elira seemed thoughtful. “I’ve only heard rumors,” she said carefully. “He’s one of the High Lord’s closest advisors, part of that inner circle. They’re all very… intertwined. Friends, allies, perhaps more sometimes. Elain is well-known as someone gentle, kind, a bit shy. She’s close to all of them, I think. There’s talk that Azriel and Elain… share a bond, but nothing confirmed.” She shrugged lightly. “You know how rumors are.”

You nodded, your stomach twisting. A bond. The word reverberated in your mind, tangling with your own secret discovery. Could it be that you weren’t the only one feeling something unexpected? Or perhaps Elira had it wrong, and it was merely idle gossip. Regardless, your heartbeat fluttered nervously at the thought.

“I’m not one for gossip,” you said evenly. “I just… I need to understand the dynamics so I can navigate these situations better in the future.”

Elira gave you a small smile. “Don’t fret too much. Relationships in that inner circle are complicated, from what I’ve gathered. All you need to focus on is healing and doing what you do best. The rest will fall into place, or so I’ve learned over the years. Fate has a way of showing us truths when we’re ready.”

You pressed the bandages into a neat stack, forcing a steady breath. “You’re right. I shouldn’t get tangled in their personal affairs.” But even as you spoke the words, you knew the tangled knot in your chest was not so easily undone. If a bond truly existed—be it gossip or reality—you’d have to face it in your own way, in your own time.

For now, you settled for the comfort of the clinic’s routine, and the quiet solidarity of another healer who understood that sometimes, wanting answers was part of the human—fae—condition. You’d return to Azriel the next day, as promised, focusing on his recovery and ignoring, for a few hours more, the silent questions that thrummed under your skin.

Night had fully fallen, and the hush that blanketed Velaris seemed deeper than usual. In your small apartment above the clinic, a lamp cast a gentle glow over the modest furnishings. You sat curled on your couch, cradled under a thick cover, a warm cup of tea balanced on your knee and a book open in your other hand. The scent of chamomile and honey rose with the steam, comforting and mild.

A soft, muffled tap came from the window. You paused your reading, glancing up just in time to see Ydil—the eagle who’d followed you through countless journeys—perched on the sill. His feathers ruffled slightly in the night breeze, and his keen eyes shone with recognition. Without hesitation, you set the book aside and rose to open the window. The chill of the winter air nipped at your cheeks as Ydil hopped inside, letting out a small, happy sound—a rough, throaty chirr of delight.

You closed the window with care, sealing out the cold. Ydil nudged at you with his head, as if in greeting, his beak gently tapping your arm. The affection was unmistakable, and a tender smile curved your lips. “Hello, old friend,” you murmured quietly, stroking the smooth feathers along his neck. He had traveled with you through distant courts and unknown lands, watching over you as you honed your healing craft, bearing witness to triumphs and losses. Now, here he was, comforting you in this new chapter of your life.

You settled back onto the couch, rearranging the cover so that it would fall partly over your lap and leave room for Ydil. He hopped closer, tucking himself beside you with a small flutter of wings, drawn to your warmth and the promise of quiet companionship. The lamp’s glow highlighted the subtle patterns in his feathers, the soft shine in his dark eyes. He was safe here, as were you.

Reclaiming your mug, you took a slow sip of tea, the sweet warmth settling in your chest. The book rested on your lap, its pages waiting patiently for your attention. But for a moment, you just breathed, listening to Ydil’s faint rustle as he positioned himself more comfortably, feeling the soft weight of the blanket, and smelling the gentle floral notes of your tea.

Outside, the night carried on in hushed whispers. The starlight and the faint hum of distant laughter from the city below reminded you that life went on, despite all your questions and uncertainties. You would face them—tomorrow, the next day, whenever fate demanded. For now, you had this peaceful moment: a warm couch, a loyal companion, a cup of tea, and the quiet promise that you weren’t alone, not tonight.

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. One moment you were reading, the gentle rustling of Ydil’s feathers at your side, the soft lamplight glowing over the pages of your book; the next, your eyelids grew too heavy, and your mind drifted into a gentle haze. The mug in your hand grew tepid, and the words on the page blurred. By the time your book slipped from your grasp and settled lightly against your lap, you were already lost in quiet slumber.

Ydil noticed immediately. With a soft, rustling sound, he slipped out from under the cover. The eagle cocked his head, studying your face as though ensuring you were truly at peace. You looked so tired—no wonder you had succumbed so easily after the long, restless night before.

He hopped lightly onto the arm of the couch, where the lamp rested on a small side table. Balancing his weight with delicate precision, Ydil stretched out and pressed the lamp’s switch with his beak. The soft glow vanished, leaving only the faint silver gleam of moonlight filtering through the window. In that gentle darkness, the world felt hushed, a cocoon of calm around you both.

Carefully, the eagle tugged at the blanket’s edge with his beak. Bit by bit, he pulled it higher until it covered your shoulders, ensuring you would remain warm against the night’s chill. Satisfied, he settled himself beside you again, his head turning as if listening to your steady breathing.

Ydil tucked his wings close, sharing the silence and stillness. Outside, Velaris slept, stars glittering softly in the winter sky. Inside, the quiet companionship of bird and healer spun a fragile moment of comfort—no demands, no urgent calls to duty, no doubts hovering at the edge of your mind. Just rest, and the gentle presence of an old friend looking after you in the deep hush of the night.

----

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Touch of Sweetness 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Loki Laufeyson

Sister series to mob!Thor

Summary: you make a new friend, but that’s not all. (short reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You park among the rows of cars as you vibrate with excitement. You asked Jada one last time if she wanted to come. When you told her Thor would be there, she scoffed and said you’d come back crying when you got stood up.

Silly her, it’s not a date. Derrrr. 

Your mom said it sounded fun but also declined your invitation. Something about the allergies you never knew she had before. You didn’t bother even telling your dad. He doesn’t care much what you’re up to. 

Still, they can’t rain on the day. It’s so sunny and bright and you’re going to have a lot of fun and make a new friend. You hope it’s not awkward. You would hate to be a third wheel. 

You get out and follow a family through the archway that denotes the entrance. You pay your entry fee and they put a red wristband on you. You smile and turn, squeeing as you see the best sign you’ve ever seen in your life; Bunny Patch. What’s that? 

You rush over to the pen of bunnies, between the pie vendor and the berry lemonade stand. This is a lot more than you expected. You fawn at the furry little creatures, some hopping, some lazing around, others chewing on carrots and lettuce. You like the ones with the long hair on their cheeks. So, cute. 

“Sweetness,” the thunderous voice scatters the children at your side. 

You turn to face Thor as he marches toward you, his hand around that of a pretty woman in a red dress. It’s sophisticated and cute with bows on the straps. You’re a bit insecure about your own choice of pink capris and a polka dot blouse with heart buttons. 

“Ah, there she is. Kitten, this is the friend I spoke of. Sweetness, this is my beloved, Queenie,” Thor gestures between you. 

“Hi,” you open and close your hand in an awkward half-wave, suddenly nervous. 

“And...” Thor continues then searches behind him. “Brother, what are you doing?” 

“It smells like rabbit droppings,” a voice slithers behind him. 

“Hm, yes, that would likely be the rabbtis,” Thor tuts. “Here,” He reaches behind him and pulls a man up next to him. An inch short and more than a few less horizontally. The man is lithe, like a cat, his black hair as sleek as his suit. “I’ve brought a fourth to even out our party. My brother, Loki.” 

The man’s green eyes narrow on you and he looks you up and down. He turns to his brother with a crinkle in his nose. He rips his arm from the other man’s grasp roughly, “you’ve brought me to this place for what? To stain my hands on crushed berries?” 

“I brought you here to have fun,” Thor deepens his tone. “So, you will behave and be nice.” 

“Yes, mother,” Loki rolls his eyes. He crosses his arms and turns his chagrin upon the bunnies. “Ugh, filthy animals.” 

You look at the other woman and she seems just as unsettled by the whole affair. “Look at that one,” you step closer to the pen door. “The black one. He looks soft.” 

“Ah, reminds me of you, Loki,” Thor slaps his back as he drags the woman at his side up to the stall. “Look, he even glowers like you. Likely why the others keep their space.” 

Loki huffs and doesn’t say a word. You glance over at the other woman and smile at her sheepishly. She looks back at you with a hollow smile of her own. 

“I like your dress,” you say. “The bows are pretty.” 

“Oh, thanks,” she peeks up at Thor. “It was a gift.” 

“Oo, nice.” You say, “um, are you excited to pick berries?” 

“Yeah, sure, I suppose... it’s nice to get out,” she nods. 

“Go on then, we’ll catch up. Save some room in the baskets,” Thor bends to kiss her cheek then lets her go. “I think my brother needs some of that berry wine to loosen his collar.” 

You smile at them. Thor returns the sentiment but Loki just shakes his head. The latter is led away by a large hand on his shoulder. You exhale and return your attention to the other woman. 

“Have you known Thor a very long time?” You ask. 

“Oh, erm,” she shrugs, “we just... it’s new.” She peers around and points toward the table trading baskets for money. “Let’s go get some berries.” 

“Right,” you agree. 

You cross the dirt and wait your turn in line. You’re a bit awkward. It’s just that new people make you nervous and you didn’t expect Loki too. 

“Have you known Thor a while?” She asks you suddenly. 

You blanch at her, “oh no, I met him the other day. He told me... he wanted me to meet you. That you needed a friend.” 

“Oh, he did? I guess I do,” she says thinly. 

“I’m sorry. You know? If this is too much. If you don’t want to know me.” You sink your chin down. “My own sister doesn’t even like me.” 

“Hm, mine either,” she says. “It’s not your fault. Don’t be sorry.” She sniffs and lets out a sigh. “I really could use a friend.” 

“Me too,” you trill. “What are you going to do with your berries? I wanna try making jam.” 

“I don’t know. Didn’t think about it,” she says. 

“Well, you can think as we pick,” you grab her hand and pull her up to the table as your turn comes. 

You get your baskets and head off into the rows of berries. You scavenge a mostly untouched patch at the far end. You tell Queenie about your sister and her friends. She doesn’t say a lot about herself though. 

“Ah, and have we a full harvest?” Thor stamps onto a bunch of berries and they burst into the dirt. He lifts his foot with a guilty, “oops.” 

“Do watch where you step, brother,” Loki sneers. 

“I find it hard to concentrate with such pretty women around,” Thor turns and squats next to Queenie. He picks some berries and drops them into her basket. “Mother always made a nice strawberry rhubard, didn’t she? She might show you the recipe, kitten.” 

Queenie nods. Loki stays standing, right beside you. You look up as his silhouette darkens in the sunlight. He huffs and says nothing. 

“Brother, you should join in. It’s rather fun. I feel as if I am a farmer in the old days,” Thor muses. 

You take a lush berry and admire the redness. You smell it and take a bite, tasting the sweetness. You hum and another scoff comes from above. 

“What are you doing? That is unwashed?” 

You peer up and chew, swallowing abruptly as you hide the uneaten leaves in the basket. “Nothing,” you lie. 

Thor chortles and murmurs something you can’t make out to Queenie. 

“You will get a parasite,” Loki insists, “you should wash all fruit before consuming.” 

“Can you blame her? She is picking all alone. She needs the sustenance for all her hard work,” Thor taunts. 

Loki flicks his fingers at his brother. He stares down at you tersely. You look down then lift another berry, raising your chin at the same time, “try one.” 

“Are you mad? I just told you. You’ll have worms crawling in your brain.” 

“Hm, well, worth it,” you bite the berry. “They’re yummy.” 

“Don’t--” He bends his knees and swats away what’s left in your hand, “that’s dangerous.” 

Thor purrs under his breath as he reaches across Queenie to dump a handful into her basket. You peel your eyes away from the intimate moment. You shrug and look at Loki. 

“I’ll be fine.” You grab another berry and he catches your hand before you can raise it to your mouth. You turn the berry between your fingers and aim it at him. “Try it.” 

He narrows his eyes. You smile. He lets you go and snatches it. He stares it down and takes the smallest bite of the tip. 

“Tastes like dirt,” he flings it away. “Told you, they need to be washed.” 

“Hmm, well, once we fill the basket, I’ll be sure to do so,” you hold up the wicker. 

He gives it a dull look then reaches to collect berries, pinch by pinch until he has a handful. He tosses them into your basket. You put your focus back to the tangled leaves and stems. This isn’t so bad. Better than Jada and her insults. 

[nina-ya]

Happy Birthday - Law Edition

A/N: this is single-handedly the most self indulgent fic Ive done in a while so uh yeah anyways bye Pairing: Law x Reader CW: None WC: 2k

“Happy Birthday!” 

The joyful shout rang through the room, jolting you awake from your mid-day nap. Your eyes fluttered open to the smiling faces of your crewmates who gathered around your figure with infectious grins. 

You blinked, trying to make sense of the scene before you. Streamers in vibrant shades of various colors draped from the ceiling, balloons bobbed merrily in the corners, and confetti showered down on you, all combining to paint the room in a riot of colors.

“What–?” you began, your voice thick with sleep, but your words were swallowed by the laughter and sound of a party horn. The atmosphere was alive and filled with excitement, the joy emanating a celebration that was crafted only with love and care.

Bepo, with his furry face beaming, bounced on his toes, eyes sparkling as he spoke, “We couldn’t wait for you to wake up on your own,” he said, voice filled with eagerness. “We’ve been planning this for weeks!” 

Ikkaku handed you a steaming cup of coffee as she said, with a grin stretching across her face, “We just wanted to make sure you felt celebrated.”

“And it looks like Law is waiting for you with your first gift,” Shachi said, excitement evident in his tone.

The mention of Law piqued your curiosity, and you quickly set down the mug, eyes darting around the room for him. “Law? Where is he?”

Penguin sat on your bed beside you, nudging your leg playfully. “He’s been waiting for you to get ready. He should be somewhere on the deck.”

Surprised flitted across your face, and you scrambled out of bed, dashing to the small bathroom of the Polar Tang to quickly toss yourself together. A few hurried adjustments later, you made your way to the deck, spotting Law standing near the railing. He turned as you approached, a shadow of a smirk playing on his lips as he watched your excited figure approach.

“Hey,” he greeted, voice as steady as ever. “I wasn’t sure what to get you, so I thought it would be best if you picked something out yourself. How about we spend the day shopping?”

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the idea, “Really? You didn’t have to do that, but I would love to!”

Law nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. “I figured it would be more enjoyable if you chose something you really like. Plus, I thought it would be nice to spend some time together.”

With a nod, you fell into a step beside him as you left the Polar Tang, and made your way into the inner city of the island. The marketplace of the island was alive, filled with stalls that offered various trinkets and items. You meandered through the endless rows of vendors, each presenting their products with enthusiasm. Street performers drew crowds to their lively performances, the smell of the street food wafted through the air making you salivate with an eagerness to try everything. As you explored, you found yourself drawn to a smaller shop brimming with trinkets and Law watched as you admired all the handcrafted figurines and jewelry. 

The hours passed, the sun already inching across the sky by the time you both made your way back to the Polar Tang. The day had been nothing short but delightful. You carried a small bag filled with a few selected gifts, all paid for by Law, of course. 

You inched closer to the ship and you noticed the crew’s unusually quiet demeanor. You were curious, but brushed it off as nothing more than fatigue from the day’s tasks. Law walked beside you, his expression unreadable, though there was something in his eyes that suggested he knew something more than he was letting on. 

Upon entering the ship, you were greeted by darkness, and as you descended deeper into it, the lights suddenly flickered on, and a chorus of voices erupted in unison yelling, “Surprise!”

The crew transformed the Polar Tang into a vibrant celebration space, adorned with those same streamers and balloons that you had woken up to, along with a large banner stretching across the ceiling, reading “Happy Birthday!” in bold letters. You spotted a table filled with nothing short of a feast, and music began to play as the festive atmosphere was cranked up to a maximum. 

The party got underway and laughter and conversation filled the air. You were swept up in the festivities, moving on from one group to the next. At one point, you found yourself pulled into a less-than-graceful dance with Bepo. The two of you twirled and spun around the submarine, your laughter ringing out over the music as your fellow crewmates clapped along. It was a moment of pure unfiltered joy.

Everywhere you turned, there were reminders of the thoughtfulness that had gone into the celebration. The party soon moved to the deck of the ship, now laughing and enjoying the festivities under the moonlight.

As the night wore on, you felt a gentle tug on your arm. You turned to find Law standing there, his expression softened by your unbridled happiness. ”Mind if I steal you away for a moment?” he asked, voice raised to carry over the lively chatter. 

You nodded, and Law gently tugged you away from the buzz of the birthday festivities, leading you to a quieter and more secluded corner of the ship. The lanterns that hung off the side of the Polar Tang enveloped the two of you in a warm, ambient light as the laughter and chatter of the party grew distant.

You glanced around, every nerve in your body alight with happiness. “This has been the best birthday I’ve ever had, without a doubt,” you began your voice becoming thick with emotion as you spoke. “I’ve never had anything like this before. It feels… It feels like a dream. I never knew how much I needed this, how much I needed all of this.” 

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions as you continued, “It’s overwhelming. I don’t even know how to put it into words. This whole day, everything… It’s been perfect.” Your voice had cracked slightly, and you wiped at the corners of your eyes, trying to keep those tears at bay. “It’s as if I was drowning, and being with everyone, with you, is just like coming up for a breath of fresh air. I-I don’t even need anything more. This has been just a perfect day.”

Law watched you, a soft, almost wistful smile on your lips. The sight of you so vulnerable and so emotional just pulled on his heartstrings. You were absolutely precious to him and he couldn’t help but want to protect this version of you. To keep you this happy forever. “I wanted to give you something,” he said, his voice quieter as he seemed to dive into something more personal.

You looked up at him, curiosity panging at you alongside the rest of the overwhelming mix of emotions that were about to spill over. “Wait, wait, I thought the shopping spree was your gift to me.” 

“Did you really think I wouldn’t get you a proper gift?” he asked, chuckling.

“I- You… you didn’t have to get me anything,” you whispered, your voice breaking. 

Law reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box wrapped in a red wrapping paper with your name inscribed right in the center. As he handed it to you, your fingers brushed slightly against each other, the contact sending goosebumps up your arms. The sight of the gift caused the tears to start falling, the dam of emotions finally bursting. 

“Hey hey,” he said softly, a chuckle escaping his lips as he watched you with mild concern. “You haven’t even seen the gift yet, and you’re already crying. Am I really that bad at this?”

You laughed through your tears, embarrassment evident in your response. “It’s not you. It’s just… everything. It’s too much”

Law’s grin widened, and he shook his head, urging you to unwrap the gift. “Well, I’m glad I could make you cry, I guess. Here-- open it before you become a total mess.”

You looked down at the box and your tear droplets had stained the wrapping paper a deep maroon. Carefully, you began unwrapping the gift at the seams, revealing a small, black box. You opened the box to reveal a bracelet, its delicate silver chain catching the soft light and shimmering against the velvet interior. 

Law took the bracelet from the box with careful fingers, and you extended your wrist towards him. He gently wrapped the bracelet around your wrist, the cool metal contrasting the warmth of his fingers as he fastened the clasp, the charms tinkling softly as they settled into place. “Everyone got to help pick out some charms,” Law said, holding up your wrist and gently rotating it to show off the bracelet. You looked closely and saw the array of charms, each one a gift from your found family. There was a polar bear, a whale, a penguin - each representing some of the members of the crew - and others that you realized reflected your personal interests.

“These I picked myself,” Law continued, pointing to three charms that lay by each other. He grew a bit shy as he started to explain their significance. “The national flower of the island where I first met you,” he said, pointing at a floral charm. “A firework, for the night at that festival where I took you because you begged for days on end,” he added with a small smile, pointing to the second charm. Finally, he gestured to the last one, a tiny depiction of a moon. “The phase of the moon when we first kissed.”

You looked up at him, sniffling as confusion overtook your teary features. “First kiss? What? I’m confused.”

Law glanced up at the sky, prompting you to follow his gaze. There, hanging in the night sky, was the moon in its waxing gibbous phase, mirroring the smaller charm on your bracelet. The pieces started to click in your head as you looked back at him, realization dawning.

He spoke up, his voice soft yet steady. “Tonight. If you’ll let me.”

You blinked, caught between disbelief and the rising emotions that made your heart race in your chest. The realization of what he meant – what he was offering – washed over you and it was as if the universe had aligned for this one moment. 

His eyes met yours and there was a vulnerability present, the unanswered question hanging between the two of you. You found yourself nodding, and without breaking eye contact, Law took a small step closer, the space narrowing until you could feel the heat radiating off his body and the scent of him overcoming your senses. His hand reached up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing lightly against your tear-dampened skin. 

Law leaned in slowly, giving you time to close the gap if you wished, but you eagerly met him halfway, your lips lightly brushing against his in a gentle touch that sent shivers down your spine.

The kiss was soft at first, a hesitant exploration of each other. But, as you leaned into him, your hand having found its way to the nape of his neck to tangle in his hair, it deepened, the initial hesitancy giving way to something more fervent.

The gift box in his hand dropped to the ground with a thud, and he circled his arm around your waist, pulling you close. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, time standing still, as the kiss unfolded. His lips were soft against yours, moving with a gentle insistence that left you breathless and demanding more, the taste of him intoxicating, making your head spin.

When you finally broke apart, the need for air becoming unignorable, you both lingered for a moment, foreheads resting against each other as you caught your breath. The night was alive around you, the sounds of the party fading back into awareness, but for that one moment, there was only you two.

“Happy birthday,” he murmured, a soft smile playing on his lips as he leaned in once again, capturing your lips in another kiss that was more heated than the last. 

This certainly was the best birthday ever. 

[inkspiredwriting]

A Day with Uncle Klaus

Five Hargreeves x reader

A/N: I hope you forgive me that this little story is more about Maddie and her uncle Klaus. Can you imagine how sweet Klaus would be to his little niece?

Warnings: None

Maddie Hargreeves, the six-year-old daughter of Five and Y/N, was a bundle of energy. She had inherited her father's curiosity and her mother's kindness, but she also had a unique gift of her own: the ability to make things float. Today, she was set to spend the day with her favorite uncle, Klaus, known for his mischievous charm and penchant for chaos.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Y/N asked, her eyes filled with a mix of amusement and concern.

Klaus waved a dismissive hand. "Please, I've dealt with spirits, apocalypses, and your husband. How much trouble can one little girl with telekinesis be?"

Y/N chuckled, giving Maddie a kiss on the forehead. "Have fun, sweetie. And listen to Uncle Klaus, okay?"

Maddie nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Okay, Mommy!"

As they set off, Klaus and Maddie walked hand in hand, ready for their adventure.

Their first stop was the local market. Klaus thought it would be fun to show Maddie around the bustling stalls, filled with vibrant colors and delicious smells. As they wandered through the market, Maddie's eyes grew wide with wonder.

"Can I make things float, Uncle Klaus?" she asked, her small hand tugging at his sleeve.

Klaus grinned. "Of course, just be careful not to cause too much of a scene."

Maddie nodded, concentrating hard on a bunch of apples at a nearby stall. Slowly, they began to rise into the air, floating gently above the vendor's head.

The vendor looked up, eyes wide. "What in the world?"

Klaus quickly stepped in, snatching the apples from the air and placing them back on the stall. "Sorry about that! Just a little magic trick."

The vendor, still bewildered, shook his head but eventually laughed it off. Klaus winked at Maddie, who giggled.

Next, they headed to a nearby park, where Klaus had brought along a kite. As they found a clear spot, Klaus handed the kite to Maddie. "Want to see if you can make this fly without any wind?"

Maddie nodded eagerly, gripping the kite string tightly. She focused, and the kite began to lift off the ground, soaring high into the sky.

"Look, Uncle Klaus! It's flying!" Maddie exclaimed, jumping up and down with excitement.

Klaus laughed, clapping his hands. "That's amazing, Maddie! You're a natural."

They spent the next hour making various objects float around the park, much to the amazement of passersby. A couple of ducks quacked in confusion as they found themselves hovering a few inches above the pond, and a group of kids cheered when their soccer ball started floating in mid-air.

As the afternoon wore on, Klaus decided it was time for a treat. They went to an ice cream parlor, where Maddie insisted on trying the most colorful flavor available. They sat outside, enjoying their ice cream and watching the world go by.

"Uncle Klaus, do you think Daddy can make things float too?" Maddie asked between licks of her cone.

Klaus chuckled. "No, your daddy has other cool powers. But you're special, Maddie. You've got a gift."

Maddie beamed, her face covered in ice cream. "I like my gift. It's fun."

Their final stop was a little craft store where Klaus had promised Maddie she could pick out something special. Maddie chose a set of colorful beads and strings to make bracelets. As they paid and left the store, Maddie couldn't resist making the beads float in a sparkling, swirling dance above their heads.

People around them gasped and pointed, but Maddie just giggled, enjoying the spectacle she was creating.

"You're causing quite a stir, Maddie," Klaus said, grinning. "Let's get home before we end up on the news."

When they finally returned home, Y/N and Five were waiting, curious to hear about their day.

"Did you have fun?" Y/N asked, pulling Maddie into a hug.

Maddie nodded vigorously. "It was the best day ever! We made apples float, flew a kite without wind, and even made ducks hover!"

Five raised an eyebrow at Klaus. "Ducks?"

Klaus shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Hey, it was all in good fun."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "Thank you, Klaus. It sounds like you both had a wonderful day."

Maddie yawned, her energy finally waning. "Can we do it again, Uncle Klaus?"

Klaus smiled, giving her a gentle hug and a kiss on the forehead. "Anytime, kiddo. Anytime."

As Maddie was tucked into bed, her eyes already closing, Five and Y/N looked at each other and smiled.

"She had a great day," Y/N said softly.

Five nodded, wrapping an arm around her. "Yeah, she did. Thanks to Uncle Klaus."

In the living room, Klaus settled onto the couch with a contented sigh. He might have been the family wild card, but today, he felt like a hero in his niece's eyes. And that was more than enough.

[d-targaryenshoe]

Market Hearts - Benedict Bridgerton

Word Count: 1751

Summary: When one notices their lover's joy in a rather odd place, why would they not join in on the feeling?

Benedict Bridgerton, the second son of the Bridgerton family, had never imagined himself spending a morning in the bustling streets of the London market.

It was an unconventional activity for a gentleman of his stature, but then again, you were anything but conventional.

Y/n Bridgerton, you were a woman of singular character.

You possessed a spirit as free as the wind and a heart as generous as the summer sun.

From the moment Benedict had laid eyes on you, he had known that his life would never be the same.

Marrying you had been the easiest decision of his life, but understanding the full depth of your soul was a journey he was still on.

This morning was to be another chapter in that journey.

“Benedict, you don’t have to come with me,” you said, your eyes sparkling with amusement as you adjusted the basket on your arm.

The sunlight streamed through the windows of your house, casting a warm glow on your hair.

Benedict, already dressed in attire more suited for a morning ride in the park than a trip to the market, shook his head with a smile.

“Nonsense. How can I resist seeing where you disappear to every week? You speak of the market as if it were some magical land.”

“In a way, it is,” you replied, your voice softening. “It’s full of life and color, of people with stories etched into their faces. It reminds me of how fast the world is.”

Benedict studied your face, noting the earnestness in your eyes.

This was not merely a chore for you, it was an adventure, an exploration of humanity that fed your soul.

It was one of the many reasons he loved you so fiercely. How could he not join you on this journey, even if only for a day?

“Then lead the way, my love,” he said, offering you his arm.

You walked through the streets of Mayfair, a picture-perfect couple that turned heads wherever you went.

Benedict, with his tall, lean frame and dark, wavy hair, cut a dashing figure in his tailored coat and polished boots.

You, on the other hand, were the epitome of grace and beauty.

Your gown, a simple yet elegant affair in pale blue, highlighted your form and the natural radiance that seemed to emanate from your every pore.

As you moved further away from the more affluent parts of town, the cobblestones grew uneven, and the scent in the air shifted from the delicate aroma of roses to the more earthy smell of baked bread and fresh produce.

The market was already bustling with activity, despite the early hour.

Stalls lined the streets, filled with everything from ripe fruits and vegetables to bolts of colorful fabric and handmade trinkets.

Benedict quickly noticed how out of place he was.

Gentlemen of his rank did not frequent such places.

He could feel the curious glances of the vendors and the wary looks of the other shoppers, but he paid them no mind.

His focus was on you.

You greeted the stall owners by name, engaging them in friendly conversation as you perused their wares.

Benedict watched as you haggled over the price of a plump tomato with an elderly man, your laughter infectious as you bantered back and forth.

It was a side of you that he rarely saw—a side that was not burdened by the expectations of society, a side that was free and unguarded.

“Y/n has a way with people,” the voice of an elderly woman cut through his thoughts.

Benedict turned to find a small, wizened woman standing beside him, a knowing smile on her lips.

She was dressed in a simple brown dress, her hair hidden beneath a white cap.

Despite her humble appearance, there was something regal about her bearing.

“Indeed she does,” Benedict replied, his gaze drifting back to you, as you were helping a young mother choose a handful of carrots while keeping the woman’s children entertained with a funny story.

The old woman chuckled. “She has the gift of seeing people, really seeing them. It’s a rare thing, especially among those who live in the world you come from.”

Benedict studied the woman, intrigued by her words. “And what world would that be?”

“The world of titles and wealth, where appearances matter more than hearts,” the woman said, her tone gentle but firm. “Your wife, she sees past all that. She sees the soul.”

Benedict felt a stirring in his chest, a mix of pride and something deeper—something almost like reverence.

The old woman’s words rang true.

You had always had an uncanny ability to connect with people, to make them feel seen and valued, no matter their station in life.

“She is my sunshine,” Benedict found himself saying, the words slipping out before he could think better of them.

The old woman smiled, a twinkle in her eye. “And you, young man, are her moon. You reflect her light and give it back to her when the night comes.”

Benedict looked at the woman in surprise, but before he could respond, she gave him a small nod and shuffled away into the crowd, leaving him standing there, contemplating her words.

He had always known that you were special, but seeing you here, in your element, made him realize just how unique you truly were.

You were a beacon of light, brightening the lives of everyone you encountered.

And it was his duty, his privilege, to protect that light.

As you continued your journey through the market, Benedict found himself more and more in awe of you.

You moved with a grace that belied the chaos around you, your laughter like music amidst the cacophony of voices and sounds.

He saw how the sellers’ faces lit up when they saw you, how the children gathered around you, drawn to your warmth like moths to a flame.

But he also saw the challenges.

There were moments when your cheerful demeanor was met with coldness or indifference, when your attempts to connect were rebuffed by those who were too hardened by life’s difficulties to appreciate your kindness.

And it was in those moments that Benedict felt a fierce protectiveness rise within him.

He had always been a man of action, a man who could solve problems with a few well-placed words or a deft stroke of his pen.

But here, in this vibrant, unpredictable world, he realized that there were some things that required more than just his influence or his name.

Here, it was you who held the power, and all he could do was stand by your side and support you in whatever way he could.

“Benedict,” your voice brought him back to the present.

You were standing in front of a stall selling flowers, a small bouquet of wildflowers in your hand. “Aren’t these lovely? They remind me of the fields near our home.”

Benedict smiled and took the bouquet from you, bringing it to his nose to inhale the sweet scent. “They are lovely, but not as lovely as you.”

You blushed and playfully swatted his arm. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Only because you inspire it, my dear.”

As you continued to browse the stalls, Benedict felt a growing sense of contentment.

This was what life was truly about—these small, precious moments shared with the person he loved more than anything in the world.

Eventually, you made your way to a quieter part of the market, where a small café sat tucked away between two larger buildings.

You led him inside, where you found a cozy table near the window.

The owner, a rotund man with a jolly face, greeted you warmly and quickly brought you a pot of tea and a plate of freshly baked scones.

“I come here every time I visit the market,” you explained as you poured the tea. “It’s my little retreat, a place to sit and think.”

Benedict looked around the café, taking in the simple yet charming décor.

It was a place that perfectly reflected your personality—unpretentious, welcoming, and full of warmth.

As you sipped your tea, Benedict reached across the table and took your hand in his. “Thank you for bringing me here today.”

You looked at him, your eyes filled with love and affection. “I’m glad you came. I know it’s not the sort of place you’re used to, but it means a lot to me that you wanted to share it with me.”

Benedict squeezed your hand, his heart swelling with emotion. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

You sat in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying each other’s company.

Benedict found himself reflecting on the events of the morning, on the way you had moved through the market with such ease and grace.

He realized that you had a rare gift, one that went beyond your beauty or your charm.

You had the ability to bring out the best in people, to make them feel valued and appreciated.

And it was a gift that he was determined to protect, no matter what.

When you finally left the café, the sun was high in the sky, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets.

Benedict and you made your way back to your home, the basket of market goods in tow.

As you walked, Benedict wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

“You know,” he said, his voice thoughtful, “I’ve always considered myself a man of the night. I find solace in the quiet, in the solitude.”

You looked up at him, your eyes curious. “And now?”

Benedict smiled down at you, his heart full to bursting. “Now I know that the night is only beautiful because of the sun. You are my sunshine. You bring light to my life in ways I never imagined.”

Tears glistened in your eyes as you leaned into him, resting your head against his chest. “And you are my moon. You are the one who gives me the strength to shine, who reflects my light when I cannot see it myself.”

You continued your walk in silence, the weight of your words hanging in the air like a blessing.

Benedict knew that life would not always be easy, that there would be challenges and obstacles ahead.

But as long as he had you by his side, he knew you could face anything together.

You were his sunshine, and he was your moon.

And together, you would light up the world.

[reallyromealone]

Ganon omegaverse 3

Fandom: the legend of zelda

Warnings: omegaverse, male reader, Zelda isn't good in this

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

(name) wasn't sure what to do, with these new freedoms he previously lacked back at Hyrule Castle, Ganon letting him wander around the palace AND THE CITY! With guards of course but still! He wasn't allowed to leave the grounds back home... Well he supposed this would be his home now.

That was something to get used to, things he was noticing back with his sister that left a sour taste in his mouth...

Why did she do what she did?

Why did she lock him away the way she did?

(Name) didn't know if he would get the answers he wanted to know or at least honest ones...

"Over the years we have expanded the town, it's not as big as Hyrule Castle town but it is impressive on its own" a guard explained as she showed him around the merchants row, before the palace entrance that surprised (name) at how accessible it was "unlike Hyrule Castle, we firmly believe the people should not be barred from visiting the palace-- of course there's times where it's not possible such at night but closing the palace from its people seems unreasonable to us"

"We believe in transparency to the people, of course they can't go anywhere they want in the palace but they are welcome to visit the throne room or see the public areas with the understanding of respect"

(Name) was fascinated by this information, the palace he knew was very closed off and from what he knew, very different from the rest of the kingdom in terms of wealth, the valley was much more forgiving and attentive to their people.

Zelda was a good queen, he knew this but he also knew she often focused on her own adventures and left the responsibilities to her second in command.

"There's so much I must learn..."

"And you will in time, you will have the rest of your life to learn" (name) nodded as he was slowly brought to the private dining area, unlike back home it wasn't stiff and cold, regal still but it felt....warm.

There was a low table with many bowls and plates with delicious looking foods as Ganon waited for his fiance to join him "how was your day, my star?" Ganon had grown to call (name) pet names, my beloved, my star... Many sweet words that made (name) flustered, his body warm with each sweet word.

"We went throughout the city today, one of the vendor ladies gave me this! I tried to pay her but she refused, she said "a gift to our future queen" the piece in question was one the made Ganon nearly blush, it was a fertility amulet.

"It looks very lovely on you" Ganon said as he led the Omega to sit in his lap, the Hylian dwarfing in comparison as they began eating, (name) finding he quite enjoyed spicy foods that the desert offered "try this!" Ganon already knew what all the foods presented tasted like but gave into his mates whims, eating the food presenting "very good, my love" his words rumbled through (name)s body, Ganon liked having his omega perched in his lap, so small and cute...

Ganon liked having (name) accompanying him during his royal business, include him on things and let him know how things worked And have an intimate knowledge in Ganons life.

"Our trade routes should alternate to this come winter months" Uberosa pointed to the map, an alternative map to get to the Bazaar "the merchants coming from the east have been notified through notices at inns and ranches" she explained as (name) looked curiously at the large map "This will also be the route we take for the wedding, I assume?" The concept of the wedding was both nerve-wracking and exciting at the same time, to think they should have been married for much longe...

Ganon gently pumped out pharamones as to calm the Omega, knowing he was nervous about his sister but Ganon knew she wouldn't try anything as to not disrupt the peace.

Going to war with the Guredo was a death wish after all.

"The wedding will be held at the temple of time now that it's been restored" Uberosa pointed to the map and (name) seemed excited, having never gotten to see it repaired.

Ganon worried (name) would grow bored when Ganon had to leave him, but the Alpha was pleasantly surprised to see (name) helping the teachers with the pups, the little girls wanting (name) to play with them the second they saw him as he was the only Voe outside of Ganon himself who they were allowed to look at, omegas were always deemed safe to the Guredo people.

"He will make a fine dam, brother" Uberosa said as Ganon gazed from a window, a soft look on his face "he will raise wonderful children if they get his attitude... God help if they turn out like you" the elder teased as Ganon huffed with false annoyance "he will be wonderful"

"Any word from the princess?"

"She's been quiet, she made many people upset with her actions and is most definitely doing damage control" he said methodically and Uberosa laughed slightly "she could have started a war, thankfully her brother is less selfish"

"His priority is always those around him, like a true Omega"

"You better spoil him to make sure he cares for himself"

"I already have things on the way"

Ganons clothes were going missing, mainly his shirts, thankfully he had an abundance due to needing to change from the heat.

Something Ganon took notice of was that (name) hadn't started nesting while here, weeks passing and the Omega seemed nervous when offered nesting materials "I-im allowed...?"

"Why wouldn't you be allowed, little one?" Uberosa asked the other who bit his lip, Ganon having a bad taste in his mouth as (name)s words confirmed his suspicions "w-wouldnt it be an inconvenience? I'm a royal Omega, it's unsightly for us to nest, no?"

"(Name), nesting is a basic instinct for all omegas, it doesn't matter what status you are, not nesting can affect your physical and mental wellness" Uberosa knelt down to the sitting Omega who seemed uncomfortable "I... I just don't want to inconvenience you all with my Omegan problems..."

"You have never and will never be a problem to us" Ganon was serious as he was half ready to start war over this but knew better, soon (name) will never have to deal with that again, he would be free to do as he pleased.

It took another week for (name) to try and make a nest, shy and nervous about it though happy Ganon gave him a spare room connecting to the bedroom "such a beautiful nest my Star" Ganon comforted (name) who looked at him for approval, his mood something new to Ganon compared to the others he was used to "we will get you even more nesting materials if you desire" he would have the finest materials sourced for his mate, anything for him.

[w1w2]

A Holiday to Remember

Huh Yunjin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 3,5k

Synopsis: In the magical glow of a snow-covered holiday town, Y/N and Yunjin prepare for their first Christmas together.

Note: Have a great Christmas babes! Thank you so much for your support and kindness, it truly means the world to me. 🥹 I hope you enjoy this magical time, surrounded by love, laughter, and all the things that make your heart happy.

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The small town looked like it had been plucked straight from a Christmas card. A fresh blanket of snow sparkled under the glow of twinkling fairy lights strung between lamp posts, their warm yellow hue casting a golden glow over the cobblestone streets. Storefronts were decked out in holiday displays: miniature Christmas villages, red and gold ornaments, and faux snow glimmering in the soft light. The faint aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg wafted from a nearby bakery, mingling with the brisk, frosty air. Somewhere down the street, a group of carolers harmonized to the gentle melody of Silent Night, their voices as soothing as a crackling fire.

Y/N strolled through the bustling town square, her cheeks flushed from the cold and her scarf wrapped snugly around her neck. The energy of the holiday season buzzed all around her, but her mind was focused on one thing or rather, one person.

“This is going to be the most special Christmas ever” she thought, her heart fluttering at the thought of Yunjin. It was their first holiday season as a couple, and every little detail felt significant. Y/N had spent weeks daydreaming about the perfect way to celebrate, imagining cozy nights by the fire and stolen kisses under the mistletoe. But today, her mission was clear: finding the perfect gift for Yunjin.

As she weaved through the cheerful crowd, Y/N couldn’t help but smile. This town had always felt magical during the holidays, but this year, it was different. Everything seemed brighter, warmer because she had someone special to share it with. She paused by a street vendor selling handcrafted ornaments, her gaze drawn to a delicate angel carved from wood.

“Would she like this?” Y/N muttered to herself, tilting her head as she examined the tiny figure. But then she remembered something Yunjin had said in passing a few weeks ago I love gifts that come from the heart. They don’t have to be expensive, just thoughtful.

The memory sparked a mix of excitement and nervousness in Y/N. It was sweet of Yunjin to care more about the meaning behind a gift than its price tag, but it also meant the stakes felt impossibly high. She wanted her gift to be perfect, something that would show Yunjin how much she truly meant to her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a child’s laughter as a snowball fight broke out nearby. Y/N chuckled, the sound lifting her spirits. She adjusted her coat and decided to keep looking. Somewhere in this picturesque little town was the perfect present.

“Alright, Yunjin,” she whispered with determination, “you’re getting a Christmas gift you’ll never forget.”

With that, Y/N set off down the street, determination settling in her chest like a warm ember. The twinkling holiday lights above her seemed to cheer her on as she made her way toward her next destination. She’d heard about the bustling holiday market in town, a place filled with unique treasures that might hold the perfect gift for Yunjin.

The gentle hum of Christmas carols grew louder as she approached, and soon, the vibrant scene came into view.

Y/N pulled her coat tighter around herself as she stepped into the heart of the holiday market. The place was buzzing with life, vendors calling out to advertise their goods, couples strolling hand-in-hand, and kids gleefully tugging their parents toward colorful stalls.

Each booth was a treasure trove of unique, handcrafted items: delicate glass ornaments, cozy knitted scarves, wooden toys, and candles in every imaginable scent.

Her eyes flitted from stall to stall, her thoughts consumed by one question What would Yunjin love the most?

She stopped at a booth displaying an array of intricate ornaments. One in particular caught her eye, a frosted glass globe painted with a snowy forest scene. It was stunning, and she reached out to pick it up carefully. Or at least, she tried.

The ornament slipped from her fingers and tumbled toward the ground. “Oh no!” Y/N yelped, her heart skipping a beat. She winced as the glass shattered into tiny pieces at her feet.

The vendor, a kind-faced older woman, waved it off with a warm smile. “Don’t worry about it, dear. It’s just a sign that you’re meant to find something even better.”

Y/N let out a relieved laugh, crouching down to help clean up the mess. “I’m so sorry. I’m a bit clumsy sometimes.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” the woman said, placing a comforting hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “Take your time. It’s not about the first thing you see, it’s about the one that feels right.”

Thanking the vendor, Y/N moved on, her cheeks still pink from embarrassment. She turned a corner and found herself at a quieter stall selling antique trinkets. Her gaze landed on a small music box nestled among the clutter. She picked it up and wound the key, and as the melody played, her heart swelled.

It was their song, the one Yunjin had sung softly to her on a late-night walk months ago, when they’d first started falling for each other. Y/N closed her eyes, letting the tune wash over her.

“This could be it,” she murmured. But doubt crept in as quickly as the excitement. "Is it too simple? Too small?" She hesitated, unsure if the music box alone would be enough to express how much Yunjin meant to her.

She pulled out her phone, scrolling to a familiar number. “Sakura Unnie” Y/N said as soon as the call connected. “I need your help.”

Sakura’s teasing laugh rang out on the other end. “This is about Yunjin, isn’t it? You sound lovestruck.”

Y/N groaned. “I’m serious! I found something, but I’m not sure if it’s the right gift. I mean, it’s cute and meaningful, but what if—”

“Y/N,” Sakura interrupted, her tone affectionate. “You’re overthinking this. Yunjin loves you, and she’s going to love whatever you pick as long as it’s from the heart. Just go with your gut.”

Y/N sighed but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re right. Thanks, Unnie.”

“Of course I’m right. Now stop panicking and focus on making her happy,” Sakura said, and Y/N could hear the grin in her voice.

Ending the call, Y/N felt her determination solidify. She decided to buy the music box, tucking it safely into her bag before heading to her next stop. The cool evening air nipped at her cheeks as she walked down the festive street, her thoughts racing ahead to where she might find something else that would speak to Yunjin’s heart.

She passed a row of brightly lit shops until her eyes landed on a boutique with a chic display of accessories in the window. A glimmer of inspiration struck her, and she pushed open the door, a small bell jingling softly overhead.

The boutique’s interior was sleek and modern, with soft jazz playing in the background and rows of beautifully displayed accessories. Y/N wandered through the aisles, her eyes drawn to a delicate gold necklace with a charm shaped like a star. It was elegant, timeless, perfect for Yunjin’s sophisticated side.

But then, she spotted something equally tempting: a pair of quirky earrings shaped like tiny microphones. They were playful and fun, just like Yunjin’s sense of humor.

Y/N stood frozen, holding one in each hand. “Why is this so hard?” she muttered, biting her lip.

“Having trouble deciding?” a friendly voice asked. The shopkeeper, a stylish woman with a sharp eye for detail, smiled knowingly.

“Yeah,” Y/N admitted. “I want to get my girlfriend something special, but I can’t pick between these two.”

The shopkeeper chuckled. “Let me tell you a secret. The best gifts aren’t about how they look, they’re about what they mean. Think about what each piece says about her and your relationship. Which one speaks to you?”

Y/N stared at the necklace and earrings for a long moment before the answer became clear. She smiled, thanking the shopkeeper as she made her choice. With her purchase carefully tucked into her bag alongside the music box, she stepped back out into the chilly air.

The streets were quieter now, the golden glow of the setting sun casting long shadows across the snow-covered ground. She checked her list one last time, a new idea forming in her mind as she recalled a little craft store she’d passed earlier.

By the time Y/N reached the craft store, the sun was beginning to dip low in the sky, casting the snow-covered town in shades of orange and pink. Inside, the store was a riot of colors, bins of beads, shelves of glitter, and racks of paints lined the walls.

Inspired by the shopkeeper’s advice, Y/N decided to make part of Yunjin’s gift herself. She picked out supplies for a small photo frame: pastel paints, a handful of tiny star-shaped beads, and a glittery gold ribbon for finishing touches.

As she paid for her items, Y/N could already picture how it would look: a simple, heartfelt frame to hold a photo of one of their favorite moments together.

Back at home that evening, after Yunjin had returned to her dorms, Y/N spread her supplies across the kitchen table. It was her turn to pour her heart into something special. As she painted and glued, she accidentally spilled an entire tube of glitter across the floor.

“Oh no!” she laughed, watching the sparkly mess spread with every movement. Her laughter turned into a full-blown giggle fit when she realized the glitter had gotten into her hair, shimmering under the soft light.

By the time she finished, her fingers were sticky with glue, and the photo frame sparkled under the light. It wasn’t perfect, but it was hers and she couldn’t wait to see Yunjin’s reaction. With a contented sigh, Y/N carefully set the frame aside to dry and glanced at the clock. She still had a few more stops to make before the day was over.

Next day while Y/N was out putting the final touches with her gift, back at her apartment, Yunjin had been busy with her own preparations.

The soft glow of fairy lights bathed Y/N’s living room in a warm, golden hue. A freshly decorated Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner, adorned with delicate ornaments and shimmering tinsel. Yunjin stepped back to admire her handiwork, her lips curving into a satisfied smile. She had insisted on decorating the tree herself, wanting everything to be perfect for their first Christmas together.

Yunjin had perched on the couch in Y/N’s apartment, letting out a content sigh as she surveyed her handiwork. The Christmas tree twinkled softly in the corner, the fairy lights casting a golden glow over the room. Cozy blankets were draped over the couch, and she had even set out mugs for hot cocoa to complete the scene.

Every detail was wrapped in anticipation of seeing Y/N’s face light up later that evening. Her gaze drifted to the small pile of wrapped gifts under the tree, and her chest tightened. Among the presents was her main gift: a hand-written song.

The idea had come to her weeks ago, during a sleepless night at the dorms. Writing it had been cathartic, every note and lyric spilling straight from her heart. But as she sat there in the quiet warmth of Y/N’s apartment, doubt began to creep in.

What if it’s not enough?

Yunjin ran her fingers through her hair, her mind replaying moments from the past year. She thought back to a chilly evening in spring, when they’d walked by the river after a particularly grueling day. Y/N had noticed her quietness right away, wrapping her arm around Yunjin and insisting they take a detour to get hot chocolate.

“You don’t have to pretend everything’s okay,” Y/N had said softly, her warmth cutting through the chill.

Yunjin had opened up that night in a way she rarely did with anyone, and Y/N had listened,truly listened without judgment or interruption. It was one of the many moments that had made Yunjin realize she’d found something extraordinary in Y/N.

How do you put all of that into a gift?

The memory lingered as Yunjin reached for her guitar, which she had brought along to finalize her song. Her fingers brushed over the strings as she hummed the melody, letting the words come naturally

"In the glow of your smile, I find my peace,

Every moment with you feels like a masterpiece.

Through the highs and the lows, the laughter, the tears,

You’re my constant, my comfort, my reason to cheer."

Her voice faltered, and she frowned. Is this enough to show her how much she means to me?

Yunjin leaned back, the guitar resting on her lap. She thought about adding something else to the song, a special touch to make it feel even more personal. Maybe a custom necklace with their initials? Or a small charm that symbolized something only they would understand.

She closed her eyes, letting the melody play in her head again. The lyrics weren’t perfect, but they were hers. Every word carried the weight of her feelings for Y/N, and deep down, Yunjin knew that was what mattered most.

A knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts. It was Y/N’s neighbor, stopping by to drop off cookies they’d baked for the holiday. Yunjin thanked them with a polite smile, tucking the tin away on the kitchen counter. As she returned to the couch, her mind drifted back to the song, her fingers instinctively strumming the chords again.

She pictured the way Y/N’s eyes would light up when she heard the first notes, the way her hands would clasp over her heart as the lyrics unfolded. The thought made Yunjin’s lips curl into a soft, almost shy smile.

“Okay,” she whispered to herself. “This is going to be perfect.”

With her resolve firmed, Yunjin placed the guitar back in its stand and got to work. She rewrapped one of the smaller gifts, adding a bow for extra flair. She adjusted the fairy lights to ensure they cast the most romantic glow. Every little detail, every touch, was for Y/N.

As the evening deepened, Yunjin curled up on the couch, her heart fluttering with equal parts excitement and nervousness. This Christmas wasn’t about extravagant gestures or lavish presents, it was about the love and connection they’d built together.

And as far as Yunjin was concerned, there was no greater gift than that.

The evening air was crisp as Y/N climbed the steps to her apartment, her bag tucked under one arm and her breath visible in the icy cold. From outside the door, she could already see the soft glow of fairy lights spilling through the windows, casting a warm and inviting light into the winter night. Her heart raced, not just from the cold but from anticipation.

She fumbled with her keys, and as she opened the door, the sight inside made her breath catch.

The living room was nothing short of magical. The Christmas tree stood tall, its ornaments glittering in the light of the fairy strings that wrapped around it. Cozy blankets were draped over the couch, and candles flickered gently on the coffee table, filling the room with the comforting scent of vanilla and cinnamon. Yunjin stood in the center of it all, a wide smile spreading across her face as she caught sight of Y/N.

“Welcome home,” Yunjin said, her voice warm and tender. She crossed the room in a few quick strides and pulled Y/N into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around her as though she’d waited all day for this moment.

Y/N melted into the embrace, her nerves and the stress of the day evaporating instantly. “You’ve outdone yourself,” she murmured against Yunjin’s shoulder.

Yunjin pulled back just enough to meet Y/N’s gaze, her eyes twinkling like the lights around them. “It’s our first Christmas together. I wanted it to be special.”

“It already is,” Y/N whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Yunjin took her hand and led her to the couch. They sat down, their knees brushing as Y/N set her bag beside her. The room felt like their own little world, safe and warm, insulated from the chilly night outside.

“I have something for you,” Y/N said, her voice soft but excited. She reached into her bag and pulled out two carefully wrapped items: the handmade photo frame and the music box.

Yunjin’s eyes widened as she accepted the gifts, her fingers brushing over the wrapping paper. “You didn’t have to get me anything,” she said, but her tone betrayed her eagerness to see what was inside.

“Open them,” Y/N urged, biting her lip nervously.

Yunjin unwrapped the photo frame first. She gasped softly when she saw it, a small but beautifully decorated frame that sparkled with tiny star-shaped beads and gold accents. Inside was a photo of the two of them from a day they’d spent at the park, their laughter frozen in time.

“Y/N,” Yunjin said, her voice trembling slightly. “This is... it’s perfect.”

Y/N smiled, her cheeks glowing pink. “I wanted you to have something personal, something that reminds you of us.”

Yunjin placed the frame carefully on the coffee table before unwrapping the music box. The familiar melody filled the room as she turned the key, and her expression softened even more.

“This song,” Yunjin said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s our song.”

Y/N nodded, her heart swelling with affection. “I heard it and immediately thought of you. I couldn’t resist.”

Yunjin set the music box down and reached for Y/N’s hands, her grip gentle but firm. “You have no idea how much this means to me,” she said, her eyes glistening. “Thank you.”

Y/N was about to respond when Yunjin stood abruptly. “Wait. I have something for you too.”

She disappeared briefly into the bedroom and returned with her guitar slung over her shoulder. Sitting back down, she looked at Y/N, her expression a mix of excitement and vulnerability.

“I wrote you a song,” Yunjin said shyly, her fingers lightly brushing the guitar strings. “It’s not perfect, but it’s... it’s everything I feel for you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as Yunjin began to play. The melody was soft and sweet, wrapping around them like a blanket. Yunjin’s voice was steady but emotional, every note carrying the depth of her feelings.

As the song went on, Y/N felt her eyes sting with tears. The lyrics told their story. The quiet moments they’d shared, the ways they’d lifted each other up, and the undeniable love that had grown between them.

When the final chord faded into the air, Yunjin looked up, her cheeks flushed. “So... what do you think?”

Y/N couldn’t find the words. Instead, she leaned forward and cupped Yunjin’s face in her hands, pulling her into a kiss. It was slow and tender, a silent answer to the question Yunjin had asked.

When they pulled back, Y/N rested her forehead against Yunjin’s. “I think it’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever done for me,” she said, her voice shaking with emotion.

Yunjin grinned, her confidence returning as she wrapped her arms around Y/N. “I’m glad you like it,” she said softly. “Merry Christmas, love.”

“Merry Christmas, Jen” Y/N replied, her heart feeling impossibly full.

The two of them stayed curled up on the couch, their gifts sitting nearby as silent witnesses to the love they shared. The night stretched on, filled with quiet laughter, whispered words, and a sense of peace neither of them had ever known before.

And as the snow continued to fall outside, it was clear that this Christmas Eve would be one they’d remember forever.

The morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Snowflakes drifted lazily past the window, creating a serene winter wonderland outside. Y/N stirred awake, snuggled beneath the warm blankets. The scent of fresh coffee and something sweet wafted through the air, pulling her from the haze of sleep.

She turned her head and smiled at the sight of Yunjin sitting at the edge of the bed, holding a steaming mug. Yunjin was still in her pajamas, a cozy set of red flannel and her hair was slightly mussed from sleep.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Yunjin said, her voice soft and teasing. She handed Y/N the mug, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Good morning,” Y/N mumbled, sitting up and wrapping her hands around the warm cup. She took a sip, humming in delight. “Coffee and kisses first thing? I could get used to this.”

Yunjin laughed and pulled Y/N to her feet. “Come on, I made breakfast. Let’s eat before it gets cold.”

The two of them made their way to the kitchen, where the table was set with stacks of fluffy pancakes, a bowl of fresh fruit, and a small pitcher of syrup. They sat across from each other, sharing bites and stealing glances, the kind of quiet intimacy that only mornings like this could bring.

After breakfast, they bundled up in coats and scarves, ready to brave the snowy outdoors. The fresh snow crunched beneath their boots as they stepped outside, the cold air biting at their cheeks.

Yunjin bent down to scoop up a handful of snow, forming it into a ball with practiced precision. “You better run,” she warned playfully, her grin wide and mischievous.

Y/N yelped, ducking behind a tree just as the snowball whizzed past her. “Oh, it’s on!” she shouted, grabbing her own handful of snow and launching it toward Yunjin.

The quiet street filled with laughter as they chased each other through the snow, their cheeks pink from the cold and the effort. At one point, Yunjin caught Y/N off-guard, wrapping her arms around her waist and pulling her into a hug.

“No fair,” Y/N panted, giggling as she tried to catch her breath.

“All’s fair in love and snowball fights,” Yunjin teased, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on Y/N’s frostbitten nose.

They ended their snowy escapade by building a tiny snowman together, decorating it with pebbles for eyes and a twig for a smile. Y/N pulled out her phone, and they snapped a series of selfies, some cute, some silly to commemorate the morning.

Back inside, they warmed up with mugs of hot cocoa, their legs tangled together under a shared blanket on the couch. The Christmas tree lights twinkled softly in the background, casting the room in a golden glow.

Y/N rested her head on Yunjin’s shoulder, sighing contentedly. “This Christmas has been perfect.”

Yunjin kissed the top of her head, her voice quiet but firm. “It’s not the gifts or the snow or the decorations. It’s you. You make it perfect.”

Y/N tilted her head up, meeting Yunjin’s gaze with a tender smile. “And you make me feel like the luckiest person in the world.”

They sat there in comfortable silence, watching the snow fall outside. This Christmas wasn’t about the gifts they’d exchanged or the moments they’d captured in photos, it was about the love they’d shared, the memories they’d created, and the promise of many more holidays to come.

As the day stretched on, they stayed wrapped in each other’s warmth, savoring the simple, beautiful magic of being together.

[themultifandomgal]

Tommy Shelby- Christmas Shopping

Day 3

The streets were alive with the spirit of Christmas, twinkling lights draped over shop windows and the scent of roasted chestnuts wafting through the air. YN and Tommy walked hand in hand, both on a mission. YN always loved Christmas she was the embodiment of holiday cheer, while Tommy had allay been the complete opposite, maybe that’s why they worked so well together

"Do you think he’ll like it?" YN asked looking at a bright red wooden toy truck displayed in a nearby shop window. It reminded her of the one her brother had when they were kids, a nostalgic piece that tugged at her heartstrings. Tommy shrugged, his expression unreadable. He loved his kids sure, but Tommy was never one for spoiling them

"It's not about what they like," it's about what they need. Kids want everything, but they don't always know what's best for them. Clothes might be more practical”

YN paused, considering his words. It was true; children often desired the flashiest toys, but what they truly needed was love and guidance.

“You're right. But I think a little magic wouldn't hurt either," she said with a playful grin “after all, it's Christmas."

They ventured deeper into the market, where laughter echoed and carolers sang familiar tunes. YN's heart swelled with joy as she watched children darting about, their faces alight with wonder. Tommy, on the other hand, observed the scene with a guarded demeanor, his mind perhaps wandering to darker places. Yet, something about the holiday spirit seemed to soften his edges, if only for a moment

"Look over there!" YN exclaimed, pointing to a stall adorned with handmade ornaments “those would be perfect for your aunt. Or for the kids. We could make a tradition out of decorating the tree together, each year buy a new ornament”

“Come on let’s have a look” Tommy knows there’s no point in grumbling, he was the one who offered to join YN with Christmas shopping for the children and rest of the family. As they approached the stall, an elderly woman greeted them with a warm smile

“Welcome, dears! Looking for something special?"

YN picked up a delicate glass ornament shaped like a snowflake, its intricate design glinting in the light

"These are beautiful! I think our daughter would love this" Tommy watched YN's excitement with of admiration

"Let's get a few," he said, surprising himself "one for both of the children, one for aunt pol and one for Ada”

YN's eyes lit up, and she beamed at him

“Really? That's a great idea!" She turned back to the vendor, her enthusiasm infectious. As they selected ornaments, Tommy felt a strange sense of fulfillment. It was foreign but welcomed.

After leaving the stall, they wandered through the market, their arms laden with gifts. YN spotted a booth selling cozy scarves and hats, the perfect addition to their shopping spree

“What do you think? The kids would look adorable in these and they’ are practical” she mused, Tommy chuckled, a sound that surprised even him.

“Yeah, they would. I never thought l'd be out Christmas shopping”

"Life has a funny way of surprising us” YN replied, her eyes twinkling “you know I think this is the most fun I've had in a long time” Tommy glanced at his wife

"Yeah, me too”

[merry-kuroo]

Rook's Birthday - A Lucanis x Rook Birthday Fic

Hello everyone :)

Today is my birthday and I decided to gift myself a Rookanis fic :)

Characters will probably be OOC and if any of the Dragon Age lore is wrong...I apologize. I just got into Dragon Age in June so I still get information mixed up.

Okay I hope you all enjoy <3

Thank you @thebookworm0001 and @tkwritesdumbassassins for the support

Warnings? Uhhh may be some grammatical errors or weird sentences since I didn't get to spend time editing this like I wanted. Maybe some spoilers?? No Spite...sorry y'all :( He'll be included in my future Rookanis fics.

Words: 3,576

Lucanis Dellamorte had experience wrapping presents. Vials that released poison once the box was opened, making the target suffer a slow and painful death was a assassination method for the Antivan Crows. It wasn't his favorite or preferred method, but it got the job done in certain situations. During one job, he watched Illario wrap a box to look like a present, but it was empty except for an ominous note warning of the target's impending death –a flare for the dramatic that was Illario’s idea. The wrapping looked like shit, so Lucanis tore the wrapping paper off and redid it. 

This present was different. 

Lucanis couldn't make a decision about the wrapping paper color, the size of the bow, and whether he should add curling ribbon. The other members of the Veilguard–Harding, Neve, Bellara, Emmerich, and Taash–were in the library wrapping their birthday gifts for Rook. He occasionally heard some laughter from the room. Lucanis decided to wrap Rook’s presents in his room.   

Lucanis opened up the slate gray jewelry box and stared at the large, silver hoop earrings lying within. When he and Rook went shopping at a night market in Rivain a couple of weeks prior to her birthday, she had stopped at a jewelry stand and marveled at the earring's simplistic yet elegant hoop design. They were shaped like ovals.  Lucanis was sure she would buy them–she touched her empty ear lobes as the vendor tried to goad her into buying them. Being a member of the Lord of Fortunes, Rook had a penchant for jewelry and anything that looked shiny and valuable. She always wore earrings, bracelets, necklaces, and anklets. 

She considered the earrings for another moment or two then declined and hurried away from the vendor. On the way back to the eluvian that would take them back to the Crossroads, then the Lighthouse, she hardly spoke. Lucanis knew she was upset, but he didn't think they were close enough for him to ask her why she was upset. 

When they were back in the Lighthouse, she admitted to him that the earrings were the same kind her mother wore and that had brought up a homesickness for her village, her family, and friends she grew up with. Later on that evening, when Rook was distracted by teaching  Manfred a complicated card, Lucanis used the eluvian to go back to Rivain and buy the earrings from the night market vendor. 

“I’m glad you’re buying something for your wife. Sometimes it's nice for a husband to buy his wife something pretty,” The vendor said as he placed the earrings in a box. “Do you want me to wrap this for you?”

“She isn’t my wife,” Lucanis said, much harsher than he intended. The vendor swallowed and gave Lucanis the box before he attended to the next customer. 

That’s right. Rook–Ava– was his companion. She led the Veilguard and he owed her a debt for breaking him out of the Ossuary. She was also helping him find Zara Renata. She was a good person and a good leader–something that Lucanis was happy to see her keep balanced despite all the hardships they’ve faced for the last few months. It was exactly for that reason why his eyes lingered on her a little longer when she was done speaking, and why a burst of joy sparked in him when she praised his cooking and demanded seconds. It felt like a balancing act. He felt like he’d known Rook all his life and yet he didn’t know anything about her. 

It was Bellara who announced that Rook’s birthday was coming up and that they should do something for her. Hence why he was obsessing over wrapping paper and ribbons and bows of all things. Maker, spare him…

At least Rook wasn’t here. Davrin had volunteered to distract her and take her away from the Lighthouse so everyone could wrap their gifts. After Lucanis was done wrapping the gifts, he’d have to start making a cake, but he’d only do that after Rook went to bed. If she came back from her excursion with Davrin and caught him baking a cake, she would insist on staying in the kitchen as “the chef’s taste tester”. 

Lucanis finally settled on purple wrapping paper and a green bow and ribbon. Rook had mentioned to him once that purple and green were her favorite colors, which is something he didn’t expect because she always wore blues, reds, and yellows–the typical colors of the Lords of Fortune. 

Night fell and Davrin and Rook came back. She announced that she was going to bed early and bid everyone goodnight. Everyone else had finished wrapping their presents before she came back and placed the presents in their rooms. Lucanis began baking a vanilla cake with a cinnamon sugar filling and icing. He used the icing pipe to draw a Rook on the cake. Once it was done, he put it in an ice box. Lucanis’s eyes found themselves looking at Rook’s present again. A pair of earrings didn’t feel like enough. What the vendor at the market said bothered him. Something pretty…the earrings were simple, but pretty. Rook loved jewelry, she made that very clear with the way she wore different necklaces and bracelets everyday and the studs and dangling earrings that started in her earlobe and traveled up her ear. 

Wait. Didn’t she like…

 Lucanis went to his trunk and pulled out a silver dagger. One day when he was cleaning his daggers, Rook had wandered into the pantry for a snack and she saw him. She didn’t say anything as she sat on the floor with him and watched him meticulously clean each dagger. Rook touched one that had a dark blue gemstone embedded in the center of the hilt. She ran her fingers over the gem, smiled, and said, “This is beautiful.” 

Rook never used daggers in combat, but  she was proficient in using a sword and shield. Maybe giving her a dagger so she could have another weapon on hand wasn’t a bad idea. Lucanis placed the dagger back in the sheath and placed a bow on it. He grabbed the earrings and dagger and headed towards Rook’s room. 

Once he arrived, he lingered at her door. It was past midnight meaning he could wish her a happy birthday now. The plan was for everyone to give their gifts to her tomorrow morning. He didn’t want to give his gifts in front of other people. Lucanis rarely felt embarrassed, but Rook brought these feelings to the surface. He sighed and placed the presents in front of her door. She’d see them first thing in the morning. He didn’t place a namecard with his signature on the presents, but he hoped that she would know it was from him.

Lucanis turned away and headed back to his room, hoping to get a few hours of sleep before Rook’s birthday celebration began. 

—------

Ava was still awake in her room. She twirled a pen around her fingers and stared at the strip of paper she had torn off her journal. 

When she was a child, her parents would have her write down her birthday wish on a piece of paper then she'd place it under her pillow. Her mother said her wish would come true if she slept on it. It was a silly thing she did as a child and she hadn't done it in years. But this year had been a lot–the elven gods broke free of the Veil, she was leading a group of people from different factions to fight these beings, and her mother was sick. Her mother was sick but Ava couldn't afford to take care of her because of all the aforementioned reasons. 

Ava sighed. She was thankful for the Crossroads and the eluvian that took her to Rivain and teleported her close to where she grew up. Because she did check up on her family when time allowed, maybe she could be a bit selfish with her birthday wish tonight. 

Ava wrote her wish down on the slip of paper and placed it under her pillow. She was going to be thirty years old tomorrow. Her 29th year in this world had brought hardships, but it also blessed her with incredible companions. 

Her thirtieth year may be even more tumultuous but she was confident it'd be okay as long as she had the Veilguard with her. 

—-----

Taash volunteered to get Rook from her room when everyone arrived in the dining room with their presents. Everyone sat at the dining room table, leaving the spot at the head of the table available for Rook. Lucanis sat at the far end of the table. Neve took a seat across from Lucanis and Davrin sat to his right. Lucanis started bouncing his leg.

Neve looked under the table, then looked back up at Lucanis and smirked. Lucanis’s leg stopped moving. “Nervous?”

“No.”

She chuckled. “If you say so.”

Before Lucanis could ask her what she knew, a blindfolded Rook walked into the dining room. She was holding Taash’s hand and frowning. 

“Taash! Seriously, where are we going?” Rook whined. 

“Okay, take your blindfold off,” Taash said. 

Rook pulled it down and everyone said, “Happy birthday, Rook!”

She gasped, then began laughing. Her dark brown eyes shined with amusement. “Thank you everyone! You didn’t have to do this.”

“Well, I know how crazy things have gotten with fighting the elven gods and dealing with darkspawn, Venatori, Antaam…” Bellara counted the adversaries they faced in the last few months on her hand. “But it’s always good to take a breather and celebrate something, right? So we didn’t want to miss the opportunity.”

Rook wiped a couple of tears from her eyes. “Thank you all. I’m so lucky to have you all.”

“Okay, okay, enough with the sappy shit. Come open your presents,” Taash said as she led Rook to the head of the table. She was seated between Harding and Bellara. 

Lucanis noticed her bare earlobes, and he pushed the disappointment aside. Was it wrong to think she would have put them on first thing in the morning? He watched Rook take Harding’s present and shake the box lightly, trying to guess what was inside before she opened it. 

Neve cleared her throat. Lucanis felt a small box and a dagger sheath being pushed into his hand. “Give it to her in person. Don’t just leave it in front of her door. That’s not how you’ll get her to like you back,” Neve whispered. 

Davrin turned towards them and nodded his head in agreement. He whispered to Lucanis, “Assan had the presents in his mouth when I woke up this morning. Even he knows you need to give these to Ava in person.”

Ava. 

It wasn’t a secret that Rook and Davrin were close, but he didn’t expect him to call Rook by her real name. Lucanis thought about calling her Ava too, but she seemed comfortable being called Rook. But did she like it when some people called her by her real name? Lucanis's frown deepened. 

The sound of wrapping paper being shredded snapped Lucanis back to the present moment. This was about Rook and celebrating her thirtieth birthday, not him and his feelings. Rook smiled as she opened Harding’s present–a blue scarf to wear since the weather was becoming colder, bath salts, and lotion. Bellara handed her present to Rook next. Rook unwrapped it to reveal a fluffy pink blanket. Rook immediately wrapped it around her shoulders and sighed contently. 

Emmerich passed her his present. The present elicited an excited squeal from her. It was a gift basket filled with Rook’s favorite coffee and tea flavors from Rivain. She stood up and hugged Emmerich while thanking him profusely. Lucanis suddenly found the notch on the table very interesting. 

Taash gave her a bracelet, also from Rivain. It contained her birthstone in the middle and Rook immediately slipped it on to her left wrist. Neve gifted Rook the next installment of her favorite detective romance novel series. What made Rook emotional was that it was translated into Rivaini and not the trade tongue, which Rook had been reading most of her novels from recently.

“Thank you. I’ve missed reading books in Rivaini,” Rook said as she flipped through the pages. 

Davrin’s present was a wooden carving of Rook, who looked like a little girl, and she played with a dog. Rook had a dog in Rivain and she had mentioned multiple times that she missed him. Rook hugged Davrin, and a flash of irritation ran through Lucanis. He ignored the knowing look Neve gave him. One again, Lucanis found the notch on the table very interesting.

Then everyone was staring at him. Waiting for him to give Rook her presents. He had no doubt Davrin and Neve told Harding, Bellara, Emmerich, and Taash about him leaving Rook’s presents in front of the door. They all looked at him knowingly, and Rook looked at him…expectedly. Then a flash of hurt appeared on her face. His hesitation made her think he didn’t have a gift for her. He would give her the gifts, but now wasn’t the time. It didn’t feel right.

“I made you a cake,” Lucanis said, cutting through the awkward moment. He pushed Rook’s presents into Davrin’s lap with a little more force than he intended. He stood up and walked to the ice box to grab the cake. 

He brought it to the dining room and Rook’s eyes lit up. “Wow. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a cinnamon sugar cake. Thank you, Lucanis.”

The back of his neck grew warm. He didn’t respond as he placed the cake on the table. Emmerich and Neve brought the plates and cutlery from the kitchen. The first and largest slice of cake went to Rook. She placed a spoonful of cake into her mouth. 

A moan escaped from her lips and she closed her eyes. Lucanis almost dropped his plate. Maker, the sound that came out of her was…Lucanis swallowed and he said through a thick voice, “I guess you like it?”

“I love it,” Rook exclaimed. She took another bite and moaned again. “I’m going to eat this for lunch and dinner.”

“Hey, save some for us too–” Taash said as she cut a large slice as well.

“Taash, that’s like half of the cake!” Bellara protested. “Cut that in half.”

As the Veilguard tousled over the exact cake proportions, Lucanis’s eyes stayed on Rook. She ate slowly, savoring the cake. Her fingers were sticky from the cinnamon sugar. She put one of her fingers in her mouth, licking the sugar off. His heart skipped a beat and his stomach flipped. What was this? Excitement? Dread? 

This was ridiculous. Was he really this happy just from seeing Rook happy?

His thoughts were cut short by Davrin shoving the presents back into his lap. He nudged Lucanis and tilted his head towards Rook. Rook was currently in an animated conversation with Harding and Emmerich. 

The moment still didn’t feel right. He realized what he wanted. He wanted to make her smile and laugh–and for no one else to see a moment meant just for them. 

Lucanis gripped the presents under the table and tried to enjoy the rest of the party.

—-----

Rook’s birthday was almost over. 

Lucanis found himself outside of her door again holding her wrapped presents. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. He heard the squeak of the bed and soft footsteps pad across the floor. Rook opened the door and Lucanis took in the sight of her in pajamas. She wore a pink top with thin straps and a matching pair of pajama shorts. A black silk robe was tied around her waist, but hung loosely off her shoulder. Her black hair was pulled into a bun. She always wore her hair down or in a ponytail. Her hair pinned up looked nice. 

“Good evening Lucanis,” She said. “Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“Oh, then do you need something?”

Lucanis pulled the presents from behind his back and handed them to Rook. “Happy birthday.” His voice sounded strange and thick like it did earlier. His nerves were growing worse as he anticipated Rook’s reaction.

Rook looked surprised–not happy like he’d imagined. Was he wrong to think the presents could make her happy? That he could make her happy? Lucanis was about to excuse himself when Rook held the door open wider and beckoned him inside. Lucanis stepped into her room and felt himself being overcome by a multitude of senses. Lots of floral and vanilla scents. They were coming from the perfume jars on her dresser. 

Rook sat down on her bed and began opening the presents. The first thing she grabbed was the dagger. She slid it out of its sheath and turned the blade over, admiring it. She touched the blue gem in the hilt, just like she had weeks ago. “This is beautiful,” Rook said. “Is this the dagger you cleaned a few weeks ago?”

“Yes,” He answered. He was so nervous that he couldn’t string together a coherent sentence. Rook still wasn’t smiling, but she wasn’t frowning either. What was going on in that head of hers?

She placed the dagger back in its sheath and grabbed the second present. She opened it up and held up the silver hoop earrings. “Lucanis,” She said, surprised. “This is–”

“You were looking at them the other day at the night market in Rivain. I went back and bought them. I thought you wanted them. I–”

“I did,” Rook answered, her voice thick with emotion. “I really did. But looking at them made me miss my mother so much.” She held the earrings up, her eyes shining. “That was silly of me. I love these earrings so I should wear them, right?” 

Rook undid the clasp of the earrings and slipped them into her earlobes. She touched the hoops and smiled at him. “How do I look, Lucanis?”

“Beautiful,” He said. A strong, clear thinking Lucanis wouldn’t have said that. However, this day had been strange for him and he wasn’t used to feeling all of these emotions at once. The nerves were making him act this way. 

A smile finally appeared on Rook’s face. She stood up and walked over to him, and enveloped him into a hug. He was taken aback. By the time he realized he should be hugging her back, she was already pulling away. A small noise of disapproval escaped from him.

“Lucanis, I’m going to ask you something and I want you to be truthful.” She took a deep breath. “You and me. We’re friends, right?”

“Yes, I consider you a friend,” Lucanis answered. His feelings for Rook were blossoming into something else, something he couldn’t control. But at this moment in Rook’s bedroom with no one else to see them…he could let himself admit that he had these feelings and as their mission to bring down the blighted gods continued, he knew these feelings would grow. His feelings for Rook may never disappear. 

Ava gave him a sly smile. “That’s good. I consider you a friend too.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “A good friend would show me how to use that fancy dagger over there. If you don’t, I’ll have to use it as a decoration and place it next to my perfumes.”

“What a waste,” Lucanis murmured, which made Rook laugh. 

“You know what else good friends do?” Rook laughed. “They give birthday presents to each other in person and not leave them in front of doors or hide them under the dining room table.”

“How did you know?” Lucanis sighed. 

“I’m very observant,” Rook said. “I thought about calling you out in front of everyone earlier today, but I didn’t want to embarrass you. I knew I’d get my presents eventually. I just needed to wait.”

“And…was it worth the wait?”

“It was.”

Lucanis wanted to stay–wrap Rook into his arms and listen to her talk. He could fall asleep to the sound of her voice. But he didn’t want to cross that boundary. Perhaps he never would. Right now, this moment between them in her bedroom was enough. Seeing her wear the earrings he bought her was enough. Spending time with her to teach her how to use a dagger was enough too. If he got too greedy, then they would both get hurt. 

“Goodnight, Rook,” Lucanis said as he headed towards the door. “I’ll show you how to use the  dagger tomorrow morning after breakfast.”

“Call me Ava.” She cleared her throat and rubbed the back of her neck. “We’re friends, aren’t we? You can call me Ava too when we’re alone–I mean when we’re just talking casually, ya know?”

“I’ll do that then. Goodnight, Ava,” Lucanis said. He stepped out of her room and closed the door behind him. 

What Lucanis didn’t see was Ava Laidir jumping up and down in a quiet cheer. She went to the mirror over her dresser and looked at the earrings Luanis gave her. 

Beautiful. 

Lucanis called her beautiful.  Perhaps her love wouldn’t stay one sided for long after all. It looks like the birthday wish she wrote down last night–Grow closer to Lucanis Dellamorte– came true after all.

[midniiights-garden]

Christmas Special!! - Mizu x Fem!Filo!Reader

(A/N: LMAO SORRY I KINDA DIED GUYS BUT IM BACK AND HERE'S MY GIFT TO ALL OF Y'ALL <3)

Summary: The snow paints the landscape a pearly white. For once, Mizu isn't alone. Not anymore. And as the snow falls down on her, she finally gets married to the love of her life.

Possible TWs!!!: Mentions of Mikio (I'm gonna stab him), Period typical homophobia, racisim and mysogyny

~~~

The last time Mizu had worn bridal clothing wasn't a happy time. And for a long time the idea of marriage wasn't one she fancied very much, much less having to dress up again. Memories of Mikio's betrayal, his disgust at her strength and all of the misunderstands flashed before her eyes whenever she saw a bride. How unfortunate. Yet here she was, once again wearing bridal clothing. The silky white kimono felt heavy against her body, an unusual luxury. She was dressed as a woman, her hair pinned up with pretty pins that Akemi had gifted to her at the news of her marriage.

Mizu looks at herself in a mirror, startled to find herself smiling. She looked at herself and found herself remembering the words of her soon-to-be wife when they first met. *"You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen,"* you had said. It was in Tagalog, of course, but you later translated it for her as your relationship grew. For once Mizu felt beautiful. Felt loved. When she looked into your eyes it felt overwhelming. Mikio never looked at her like that. He only looked at her like that when he believed she was someone else. But you...

You had seen all of her. Her rage, her bitterness, her anger and her fear. And you stayed. You stayed no matter what. You always reassured her, always held her even if she had insisted she was fine. You were her everything. That idea scared and thrilled her all at the same time. And now here she was, wearing a wedding kimono with her makeup done, her heart pounding in excitement and fear.

Swallowing her feelings she finally emerges to begin the ceremony. Said ceremony was agreed to be outside due to many (all) vendors not wanting to host Mizu and her soon to be wife. Typical. Of course two women getting married wouldn't go down well. So, outside it was. Mizu began the walk to the makeshift altar, a mix between your culture and hers. The snow was falling, gently though. Like little bits of glitter in the sky, as if the very world were rejoicing in Mizu's marriage. When Mizu looks up to meet your gaze she nearly starts bawling.

There you are, looking beautiful as ever. Your hair pinned up nicely, white gown blending into the snow seamlessly. You seemed cold, the tip of your nose and the apples of your cheeks red. But the minute you saw Mizu your eyes lit up, all signs of discomfort gone in an instant, promptly replaced by a look of complete adoration. It made Mizu fall in love all over again. She continues to move forward, trying her best to hold back her tears and you do the same. Mizu looked so beautiful, ethreal, like an angel. As she finally made her way to your side she gives you a weak smile, wanting nothing more than to just get it over with and cry in your arms out of pure joy. She finally had her happy ending.

And as the snow falls around the both of you a silent promise is formed.

"In this life and the next, I will always love you."

(A/N: HAPPY HOLIDAYS FUCKERSSSSSS)

[wonlvures]

— A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE — PARK JONGSEONG

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, romance

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you and Jay celebrate christmas together!

𝐀.𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: sorry i haven’t been posting ! i’ve been very lazy 😞

It was Christmas Eve in Seoul, and the city was alive with holiday cheer. The streets shimmered with dazzling lights, and snowflakes gently fell from the sky, blanketing the sidewalks in soft white. The scent of roasted chestnuts and fresh pine mixed in the air, and everything seemed to glow under the light of the festive decorations. People bustled around, shopping for last-minute gifts and sipping hot drinks from street vendors.

Inside a cozy little cafe on a quiet corner of the city, Y/N sat by the window, a warm latte cradled between her hands. The holiday season always filled her with a sense of wonder, and tonight, something felt even more special. Perhaps it was the quiet beauty of the snow, or perhaps it was the anticipation of seeing someone very important to her—someone who had become much more than just a friend over the past few months.

Her phone buzzed on the table, breaking her out of her thoughts. She looked down to see a message from Jay, the charming and kind-hearted lead vocalist of ENHYPEN.

"I’m outside! Can you come out?"

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as she quickly stood up, her eyes lighting up. She’d been looking forward to this all week. Tonight was a chance to spend some quiet time with him—just the two of them, away from the chaos of the world. Grabbing her coat, she slipped into the cool winter air and stepped out of the cafe.

There, standing under a streetlamp dusted with snow, was Jay. He was dressed warmly in a thick, black jacket and a soft, checkered scarf, his hands tucked into his pockets. His breath formed small clouds in the chilly air, and as soon as he spotted her, his face broke into that signature grin that always made her heart race.

"Hey, you made it!" he said, taking a step toward her. "Sorry if I kept you waiting."

Y/N smiled, shaking her head. "No, I just got here. It’s so beautiful tonight, don’t you think?"

Jay looked around at the snow-covered streets, the festive lights strung across the buildings. He chuckled. "Yeah, it’s like a Christmas movie. I’m glad we’re spending it together."

There was a softness in his voice that made Y/N's heart flutter, but she quickly shook it off, attributing it to the magic of the season. "I’m really glad, too. So, what’s the plan?"

Jay grinned mischievously. "I was thinking we could walk around, look at the decorations, and maybe grab some hot cocoa or something. Just enjoy the night."

Y/N nodded enthusiastically. "That sounds perfect."

The two of them wandered through the streets, walking side by side as the city’s Christmas lights sparkled around them. Every now and then, Jay would playfully flick snow at Y/N, causing her to laugh and retaliate with a small snowball of her own. It felt like the world had faded away, leaving only the two of them in their own little bubble.

After a while, they found themselves in a nearby park, where the trees were decked out in thousands of twinkling lights. The peaceful quiet of the place, with the soft crunch of snow beneath their feet, made it feel like they had stepped into a winter wonderland. The only sound was the gentle rustle of the branches in the wind and the occasional giggle between them.

They stopped in front of a large Christmas tree in the center of the park, its lights glowing brightly. Jay took a deep breath, looking at the tree in silence before turning to face Y/N. His expression had softened, and his usual playful energy seemed to have mellowed.

"You know," Jay began, his voice quieter now, "I’ve been thinking about this moment for a while."

Y/N tilted her head curiously. "What do you mean?"

He took another deep breath, as if gathering his thoughts, then looked into her eyes with a seriousness that surprised her. "I just… I’ve been so busy with everything lately, with ENHYPEN and all the craziness that comes with it. But every time I see you, I feel like I can finally breathe. You make everything feel so much better. And I realized tonight that it’s not just about having fun or spending time together. It’s something more."

Y/N’s heart raced, her breath catching in her throat. She wasn’t sure where this conversation was headed, but the air between them felt thick with unspoken feelings. She looked down at their feet for a moment, trying to steady herself.

Jay reached out, gently lifting her chin so that their eyes met once more. "Y/N, I think... I think I’m falling for you."

The words hung in the air, and Y/N’s heart seemed to stop for a moment. Was she hearing this right? Her mind raced as she looked up at him, trying to make sense of what he had just said.

Jay looked at her with those warm, dark eyes, waiting for her response. "I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now, but I didn’t know how… or if you felt the same way."

Y/N felt a wave of emotions wash over her—surprise, joy, and a little nervousness. She’d always known there was something special between them, but to hear Jay say it out loud made everything feel real.

"I… I think I feel the same," she whispered, almost too quietly to hear. "I’ve always cared about you, Jay. More than I realized."

A soft smile spread across his face, and he gently pulled her into a warm hug, wrapping his arms around her as if he never wanted to let go. Y/N melted into the embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her chest. The world seemed to fade into the background, and for that moment, it was just the two of them, surrounded by the magic of Christmas.

When they pulled away, Jay’s face was flushed, but his smile was brighter than ever. "So, we’re each other’s Christmas miracle then?"

Y/N laughed softly, her heart full. "I think so."

Jay’s eyes softened as he stepped closer, his hand gently cupping her face. "I’m really glad we’re here, Y/N. This is… this is everything I’ve wanted."

Before she could respond, he leaned down, pressing his lips to her forehead in a tender kiss. The moment felt like a dream—a perfect, serene memory that she would cherish forever.

As they stood there, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, the snow continued to fall around them, adding to the magic of the night. The twinkling lights on the Christmas tree reflected in Jay’s eyes, and Y/N felt as though she had stepped into her own little holiday fairy tale. The love she’d always hoped for had found her, and it was here, under the snowy sky, with the person who made her heart feel like home.

As they walked back through the park, hand in hand, the city lights guiding their way, Y/N knew that this Christmas would be the start of something beautiful. Something lasting. And no matter what happened in the future, she would always remember this night—the night she and Jay found each other, wrapped in the warmth of the season and the magic of a Christmas miracle.

[small-z24]

One-Shot: Secrets in the Night

Summary:

Azriel and the bat boys visit a night market where Azriel is captivated by Y/N, a kind-hearted vendor who impresses Rhysand with her handmade jewelry. Despite his shyness, Azriel later surprises Y/N with a thoughtful gift during Winter Solstice, revealing their mutual admiration and hinting at a blossoming romance.

Word Count: 1743

Warnings: None

The night market in Velaris was alive with color and sound. Lanterns hung from every stall, casting a warm glow over the bustling crowd. The scent of spiced cider and freshly baked pastries filled the air, mingling with the laughter and chatter of the shoppers.

Azriel walked alongside Rhysand and Cassian, his eyes scanning the stalls. They were on a mission to find the perfect gifts for the women of the Night Court. Azriel’s mind was only half on the task at hand; the other half was consumed by thoughts of Y/N. He had first seen her at a café in Velaris, drawn to her kindness and the warmth of her smile. Since then, he had found himself inexplicably captivated by her.

As they walked, Azriel’s shadows whispered around him, alerting him to a familiar presence nearby. He turned his head and saw Y/N standing behind a booth, her hands deftly arranging a display of intricate jewelry. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her, but he quickly averted his gaze, hoping to avoid drawing attention.

“Az, you seem distracted,” Rhysand remarked, a knowing look in his eyes. “Something on your mind?”

Azriel shook his head, forcing a casual tone. “Just looking for the right gift.”

Cassian grinned, clapping Azriel on the back. “You always were the thoughtful one. What are you looking for, exactly?”

Azriel hesitated, not wanting to reveal too much. “Something special.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Something special, huh? For someone special, perhaps?”

Azriel’s jaw tightened, but he kept his expression neutral. “Just a friend.”

Cassian and Rhysand exchanged a glance, their curiosity piqued. “Well, let’s see if we can help you find this special something,” Cassian said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

As they moved through the market, Azriel couldn’t help but steal glances at Y/N. She was beautiful, her face illuminated by the warm light of the lanterns. He wanted to go to her, to talk to her, but he knew now wasn’t the right time.

They approached Y/N’s booth, and Rhysand’s eyes immediately caught sight of a striking black and gold necklace. “This would be perfect for Feyre,” he murmured, picking it up to examine it more closely.

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting Rhysand’s with a friendly smile. “That piece is one of my favorites. I made it with the High Lady in mind.”

Rhysand’s smile widened, clearly impressed. “You have excellent taste. I’ll take it.”

As Y/N wrapped the necklace, Cassian and Azriel browsed the other items on display. Azriel’s heart pounded as he stood so close to her, the scent of her perfume mixing with the spices of the market.

“You make all of these yourself?” Cassian asked, genuinely impressed.

Y/N nodded, her hands working quickly. “Yes, I do. It’s my passion.”

Azriel picked up a delicate silver bracelet, admiring the craftsmanship. “This is beautiful,” he said softly, unable to keep the admiration from his voice.

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting his for the first time. There was a moment of silence, and Azriel felt as if the world had stopped. “Thank you,” she replied, her voice gentle. “I’m glad you like it.”

Rhysand, ever the observer, noticed the exchange and couldn’t help but smirk. “Azriel, you should get it. It would make a wonderful gift.”

Azriel’s heart raced, and he quickly placed the bracelet back on the table. “Perhaps,” he said, trying to sound casual.

Cassian chuckled, clearly enjoying Azriel’s discomfort. “Don’t be shy, Az. If you like it, you should get it.”

Azriel shot Cassian a warning look but managed a small smile. “I’ll think about it.”

As Rhysand completed his purchase, Y/N handed him the wrapped necklace. “I hope she likes it,” she said with a warm smile.

Rhysand nodded, his eyes twinkling. “I’m sure she will. Thank you, Y/N.”

As they walked away from the booth, Rhysand leaned closer to Azriel, his voice low. “She’s lovely, isn’t she?”

Azriel glanced back at Y/N, who was already attending to another customer. “Yes, she is.”

Cassian clapped Azriel on the back again. “You should ask her out. It’s obvious you’re into her.”

Azriel clenched his fists, struggling to maintain his composure. “I told you, it’s not like that.”

Rhysand laughed softly, shaking his head. “Whatever you say, Az. But maybe it’s time to stop admiring from afar.”

Azriel knew they were right, but the fear of rejection and the desire to keep his feelings hidden weighed heavily on him. As they continued through the market, he resolved to find a way to speak to Y/N again—soon. For now, he would hold onto the hope that there was a chance for something more.

Winter Solstice had arrived, and the House of Wind was filled with festive cheer. The Night Court gathered to celebrate, exchanging gifts and sharing stories around a roaring fire. Azriel, however, had only one thing on his mind: finding a way to see Y/N.

The night was lively, with laughter and merriment echoing through the halls. Feyre and Rhysand were at the center of it all, their joy infectious. Cassian and Nesta were engaged in a playful argument over who had given the better gift, while Elain moved gracefully through the crowd, her presence a calming influence.

Azriel stood on the periphery, his eyes flickering to the clock. He had managed to find the rare book Y/N had wanted, wrapped it carefully, and planned to slip away to surprise her. But every time he moved to leave, someone called him back.

“Az, come join us!” Cassian shouted, waving him over to where he and Nesta were sitting. “We’re about to start the gift exchange.”

Azriel sighed inwardly but forced a smile as he approached them. He handed out his gifts, his mind only half on the festivities. His eyes kept darting to the door, hoping for an opportunity to slip away unnoticed.

“Azriel, you’ve been awfully quiet tonight,” Rhysand said, appearing at his side with a knowing look. “Something on your mind?”

Azriel shook his head, masking his impatience. “Just enjoying the evening.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “Well, don’t be a stranger. It’s a night to celebrate.”

As the night wore on, Azriel felt the frustration building. Every time he tried to make his exit, someone else drew him back into the festivities. Feyre called him over to admire a painting, Elain asked for his help with a particularly tricky gift wrap, and even Amren engaged him in a conversation about strategy for their next mission.

Finally, as the clock struck midnight and the celebrations began to wind down, Azriel saw his chance. Most of the guests were starting to leave, and the attention had shifted away from him. He slipped the wrapped book into his coat pocket and quietly made his way to the door.

“Azriel,” Cassian called from across the room, “where are you off to in such a hurry?”

Azriel turned, trying to keep his tone light. “Just need some fresh air.”

Cassian’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Fresh air, huh? Sure you’re not sneaking off to meet someone special?”

Azriel’s heart skipped a beat, but he forced a casual smile. “Just needed a moment to myself.”

Rhysand, who had been watching the exchange, gave Azriel a long, appraising look. “Don’t stay out too long. It’s cold out there.”

Azriel nodded and quickly stepped out into the crisp night air, his breath visible in the chill. He walked briskly through the quiet streets of Velaris, his thoughts focused on Y/N. He hoped she hadn’t given up on seeing him tonight.

When he finally reached her shop, he saw a soft light glowing from inside. Relief washed over him as he knocked gently on the door. It opened almost immediately, and Y/N stood there, her eyes lighting up with joy and surprise.

“Azriel,” she breathed, stepping aside to let him in. “I didn’t think you’d make it.”

He smiled, pulling the wrapped book from his coat and handing it to her. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Y/N took the gift, her fingers brushing against his. “Thank you. Come in, it’s freezing out there.”

He stepped inside, the warmth of her shop enveloping him. She led him to a cozy corner where a small fire crackled in the hearth. They sat together, close but not touching, the intimacy of the moment palpable.

Y/N unwrapped the book, her eyes widening with delight. “Azriel, this is perfect. Thank you.”

He smiled, watching her as she carefully turned the pages. “I’m glad you like it.”

She looked up, her eyes filled with emotion. “I got you something too.”

She reached behind her and brought out a small, intricately wrapped box. Azriel took it, his heart swelling with anticipation. Inside, he found a finely crafted leather bracelet, adorned with subtle engravings that seemed to shimmer in the firelight.

“It’s beautiful,” he said softly, slipping it onto his wrist. “Thank you, Y/N.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the warmth of the fire and the soft glow of the lanterns creating a cocoon of peace around them. Azriel felt a sense of contentment he hadn’t known in a long time, simply being in her presence.

Finally, he broke the silence. “Y/N, I… I’ve been wanting to tell you something.”

She looked at him, her expression open and encouraging. “What is it, Azriel?”

He took a deep breath, gathering his courage. “I’ve admired you from afar for a long time. Your kindness, your smile… they drew me in. I’ve found myself thinking about you more than I care to admit.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, and she reached out to take his hand. “I’ve felt the same way, Azriel. I just didn’t know if you felt the same.”

Relief and joy surged through him as he squeezed her hand gently. “I do. And I want to get to know you better, if you’ll let me.”

She smiled, her eyes shining with happiness. “I’d like that very much.”

As the fire crackled and the night deepened, Azriel and Y/N sat together, their hearts beating in unison. The journey ahead was uncertain, but in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the fire and the comfort of each other’s presence, they felt a glimmer of hope—a promise of something beautiful yet to come.

[sequinsmile-x]

Routine

A typical Sunday for the Hotchners.

-x-

Hi friends!

This is a birthday gift for my dear friend @hancydrewfan ! Thank you for being you, for always encouraging me with my slightly mad ideas, and for loving my cat as much as you do! I hope the next year is as lovely as you <3

I really hope you enjoy this - it's soft and everything they deserved in canon.

-x-

Warnings: Pregnancy, so fluffy it should probably come with a high sugar content warning.

Words: 2.6k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She isn’t entirely sure why she enjoys it so much. 

It was a tradition that had started by accident early on in her relationship with Aaron. They’d been at her place, curled up together in her bed on a Sunday, Jack with his grandfather for the weekend, with nothing to do. Neither of them did well with long stretches of time with no plans, an unease that would settle under their skin if they were idle for too long. 

It was Aaron who’d suggested the farmers market. 

He’d found it online, a soft smile on his face as he said it was within walking distance of her house, the place in Dupont Circle she almost hadn’t bought when the idea of staying was too much. Now it was their home. A place she shared with Aaron and Jack, now her husband and son, the two of them moving in with her a step they’d taken naturally when the discussion of living together came up less than a year into their relationship, back when Aaron had a ring hidden away in his sock drawer and Jack still called her Emily. 

She’d fallen in love with the simplicity of it that first Sunday they went. She enjoyed walking from stall to stall, with no real aim other than exploring. Aaron’s hand in hers as he ran his thumb back and forth over her wrist, his eyes always fixed on her whenever she looked at him, his smile full of the love they hadn’t admitted to each other yet as they did something as achingly domestic as walking around a farmers market. 

They went as often as they could. Would spend time just the two of them, or with Jack in tow if he wasn’t with Jessica or Roy, wandering from vendor to vendor, idly planning what ingredients they’d need for their meals that coming week. If she really thought about it, that’s why she enjoyed it. The normality of it. The beauty of having a life where she could do something as simple as this with her husband and little boy. The extraordinary, ordinary existence that she, not that long ago, would have said was beyond her. 

Jack sighs dramatically next to her, huffing like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders as his parents look down at him. She reaches out and ruffles his hair, pushing her fingers through the sandy locks, smiling when he shies away from the touch.

“Everything okay, sweetie?” She asks, and he huffs again, his body almost thrumming with the need to run around and burn off energy. 

“I’m bored,” he exclaims, like there was nothing worse that could happen to him, and she smiles softly. Aaron squeezes her hand and when she looks at him he has a slightly stern look on his face, an expression that never fails to make her stomach flip. 

He raises his eyebrows at Jack, “Jack, Mom likes it here so you’ll have to manage okay?” He says, as close as he ever came to scolding the young boy, “Do you think she enjoyed every second of the aquarium yesterday?” 

She absolutely hadn’t, but she’d never tell Jack that. Going to the aquarium was one of the first things they’d done as a trio when she started dating Aaron. It was more nervewracking than her actual first date with her now husband, her awareness that Jack had to like her for it to work, Aaron’s constant reassurances that Jack loved her of no use. She soon found she’d been worrying for no reason. Jack had immediately asked her to pick him up, and he’d sat on her hip as he told her every fact he knew about every fish and shark. 

She never told him that she hates fish, that their eyes freak her out and she hates how they just float around the tanks. She pushes past it every time for him, for the little boy she knows she couldn’t love more if she’d carried him herself, and sometimes she was sure that in itself was the very cornerstone of motherhood.

Jack nods, kicking his foot against the path a little as he looks down, “Sorry, Mom.”

“It’s okay, Jackie,” she says, pushing her fingers through his hair again, winking at him when he looks up at her. Her heart swells when he smiles at her, “That ice pop stand you like is right ahead, why don’t you go see what flavours they have today?”

He nods enthusiastically and runs off, only slowing down when Aaron warns him not to go too far and to stay in sight. As soon as he’s out of hearing distance Emily turns to her husband, a soft smile on her face as she raises her brow at him. 

“He’s allowed to be bored,” she says, smiling as she leans in to stamp a kiss against his lips, the action lost when he smiles too, “I would imagine a farmers market isn’t exactly thrilling for a 7-year-old.” 

Aaron hums and kisses her cheek, the hand not linked through hers landing on her curved stomach, smiling when he feels their daughter shift beneath his palm, “He’s got to get used to not always getting his way, sweetheart. He’s not going to be an only child much longer.” 

She was 6 months along and there were still moments when she found it hard to believe, the constant roll of her daughter under her skin a much needed reminder that she did actually have everything she’d ever wanted. After her injuries from Ian, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to successfully get pregnant, and neither were her doctors. She and Aaron had talked about it, at length, and they decided to try, their futures laid out in two separate paths that ran alongside each other until they knew for sure. When she found out she was pregnant it was as if everything had fallen into place, the last puzzle piece falling into its spot with a satisfying click. 

Her pregnancy hadn’t been without its complications, her blood pressure, her age and her scar tissue meaning she’d been classed as high risk from the start, but she’d still enjoyed it for the most part. Every difficult moment, such as being regulated to desk duty before she wanted to be, outshone by the amazing ones, the look on Aaron’s face when they found out they were having a girl something she’d remember forever. 

She hums and shifts back and forth on her feet, redistributing her weight, “I wonder if she’ll hate the farmers market too.” 

He shakes his head immediately, his lips against her cheek, “I think she’ll be exactly like you,” he says, his smile wide at the thought of a mini Emily, all dark brown eyes, wildness and stubbornness she’d inherit from the both of them, “Just think, in a few months, she’ll be here with us.” 

The thought makes love bloom in her chest, the mental image of her walking these same paths with her baby strapped to her chest, a tiny hat on her head to protect her from the sun, enough to steal the breath from her lungs, love and joy and happiness in its place. 

“Yeah,” she says, placing her hand on her bump, “She will be.” 

___

She’s exhausted when she gets home, her energy levels completely depleted from an activity that she used to do without thinking.

“Your kid is draining all the energy out of me,” she mumbles, her face pressed against his neck as they snuggle on the couch, both of her arms curled around one of his as she sinks deeper into his side. She nuzzles her nose into his neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne, grateful that she was long past the early days of her pregnancy when the smell of it would make her feel sick, “Remember when I used to be able to stay awake all day.” 

“You are growing a whole new person, Em,” He chuckles and kisses her temple before he encourages her back just enough to look at him and he presses his forehead against hers, “That’s pretty exhausting.”

She laughs dryly, her breath skipping over his skin, “You’re telling me. She’s worth it though.” 

“You’re an amazing mom,” he says, smiling when she rolls her eyes at him, although he knows her well enough to know she doesn’t want him to stop, that she wants to drown in his affection, “Jack is so lucky to have you,” he places his hand on her bump, “So is this little girl.” He kisses her cheek, then her nose, then her other cheek, dodging her attempt to capture his lips until she rests her hand on his neck and pulls him in. She sighs into the kiss as she cups the back of his head, her fingers running through his hair. When they pull back he tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

She sinks her teeth into her lower lip as she thinks about it, before she nods slowly, “You could always rub my feet? They hurt like hell.” 

He doesn’t need asking twice. He helps her resettle on the couch, a large cushion behind her back as she rests her feet in his lap. He starts rubbing one of them, immediately pressing his thumbs into the areas he knows cause her the most pain, smiling when she groans. 

“I don’t know if I’ve got it in me to walk to and from the market anymore,” she says, wincing as he rubs a sore spot in one of her heels, the thought of it making her sadder than she thinks it should, “Baby girl is making it hard.” 

“Then I’ll drive us.” 

He says it so simply, that it makes her laugh. She’s convinced it’s a joke until she looks at him, her laugh dying in her throat when she sees how serious he is, “Aaron, honey, this is DC traffic we’re talking about. It will take us twice as long to drive as it would to walk.” 

He shrugs, gently laying her foot back down before he reaches for the other one, starting up his ministrations again, “I know, but you love it, Em. And I’d give you a piggyback all the way there if I could,” he says, smiling when she rolls her eyes at him, “But I think the baby would be in the way. So driving is our best option,” he says, love for her overwhelming him like it always did, a feeling he knew he’d never get used to in a thousand lifetimes, “And, when you’re so pregnant you can’t even walk around the market I’ll go and Facetime you as I walk around, so you can still get all the things you want without leaving the comfort of our home.” 

She has to press her lips together to stop her smile from getting any wider. She isn’t surprised by the tears that press at the back of her eyes, not this far into her pregnancy, but she still shakes her head at herself, wiping them away as they fall onto her cheeks. She reaches forward, leaning as closely to him as she can with her bump, and she cups his cheeks, cradling his face as she strokes her thumb back and forth over the slight scruff he has from not shaving all weekend. A part of her not so secretly hopes the beard will grow out properly once the baby is here, that he’ll be so exhausted from the early, challenging, amazing, days of parenting a newborn that he simply won’t have the energy to shave. 

“You, Aaron Hotchner, are the sweetest guy I’ve ever met.” 

It was a side of him she’d protect with her entire being, a soft, gentle part that she cherished. She knew it was hard won, a part of him he’d fought to protect, to keep in place no matter what life threw at him. She knew from personal experience how hard it was to stay soft, to not let circumstance harden you, to not let sharp edges form and cut through anyone who tried to get close. It felt like a privilege to see this side of him, to have this side of him, and she knew she’d never take it for granted. 

“Well,” he says, his cheeks going warm beneath her palms before he turns his head to kiss her hand, his lips catching the space where her wedding rings would be if her fingers weren’t so swollen, “You can’t tell anyone. I have a reputation as a hard ass to uphold.” 

She laughs as she settles back down, her hands coming to rest on her bump as he continues rubbing her foot.

“Your secret is safe with me, honey.” 

___

They spent the rest of the day relaxing. She ends up napping on the couch, a cushion under her belly and her head in Aaron’s lap, lulled to sleep by his fingers trailing through her hair and the low hum of the television, the sound of Jack’s favourite movie the soundtrack to their afternoon. 

She cooks them dinner, a nice quick meal of chicken and asparagus they’d bought from the farmers market, followed by dessert. She and Jack manage to sweet-talk Aaron out of a second serving of ice cream, claiming dinner was healthy so they deserved it, wide smiles he could never say no to across their faces as he rolls his eyes and heads back to the kitchen. 

By the time they get into bed she’s exhausted, her body heavy and slow as she sinks into the mattress.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” 

“I’m okay. Just tired.” She nods as she looks over at Aaron, not bothering to cover a yawn as he climbs into bed next to her, pausing to place a kiss against her belly before he curls up around her, his chest against her back and his hand on her stomach, his fingers slipping under the material of her shirt. They both chuckle as the baby kicks, “I think I’m in for another long night.” 

Aaron kisses her shoulder, his lips against her soft skin where her t-shirt, one that used to be his, had slipped down, “I’m sure your boss wouldn’t mind if you had a lie in tomorrow,” he says, his smile still pressed against her shoulder, “I hear he’s quite fond of you.” 

She places her hand over his on her belly, linking their fingers together before she starts to stroke the back of his hand, her thumb moving back and forth over the soft hair there. She turns her head just enough to kiss him, capturing the corner of his lips before she settles back down. 

“He’d better be, it’s his daughter whose giant feet are on my bladder,” she quips, smiling when he holds her even tighter. She looks down at their hands, marvelled at the difference in size as she always was. She imagines for a moment how small their daughter would look in his arms and it warms her from the inside out, excitement and love spreading through her veins like wildfire. She links their fingers together and lifts their joint hands to her lips and she kisses his knuckles, pressing love into the scars he’d gained in honour of the last woman he’d loved, “Today was a nice day.” 

“It really was,” he murmurs against the back of her neck, stamping a kiss there before he shifts so her head is tucked beneath his chin, their bodies intertwined, “Same again next week?” 

She hides her smile against their joint hands and then tucks them against her chest, her eyes drifting closed as she sinks into the feeling of him pressed up behind her and the roll of their daughter in her belly. 

“I’d like that.” 

-x-

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